Psalm 44, and a prayer for Afghani believers

On first glance, Psalm 44 seems to have a conflicting message. It begins with praise for God’s work of delivering Canaan into the hand of Israel (vv 1-3) followed by a confession that the psalmist does not trust in himself, but in God for deliverance (vv. 4-8).

But then the psalm takes a difficult twist in verses 9-19, as the psalmist complains that God has nonetheless rejected them (v 9), saying “You sell Your people cheaply” (v 12). God’s actions towards them seem to contrast with their continued faithfulness to Him (vv 17-18).

In the final section (vv 20-26) the psalmist asserts their faithfulness (vv 20-21), even while “for Your sake we are killed all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered” (v 22). The psalm ends with a desperate plea, “Arouse Yourself, why do you sleep, O Lord? Awake, do not reject us forever” (v 23), followed by the petition, “Rise up, be our help, and redeem us for the sake of Your lovingkindness” (v 26).

This is not what we expect to see. Why does God treat His people so, when they are seeking to be faithful? Derek Kidner’s comments on this seemingly conflicted psalm are excellent

“The psalm is exploring the baffling fluctuations that have their counterpart in Christian history: periods of blessings and barrenness, advance and retreat, which may correspond to no apparent changes of men’s loyalty or methods. Although its picture of the sleeping Lord may seem naive to us, it was acted out in the New Testament, to teach a lesson which we still find relevant: cf. verse 23 with Mark 4:38.

But the crux is in verse 22, with the phrase for thy sake. The psalm does not develop it, but it implies the revolutionary thought that suffering may be a battle-scar rather than a punishment: the price of loyalty in a world which is at war with God. If this is so, a reverse as well as a victory may be a sign of fellowship with him, not of alienation.” [Kidner, Psalms 1-72, Intervarsity Press, 2008, p.187. Emphasis mine.]

Paul cites Psalm 44:22 in Romans 8:36 and brings the psalmist’s complaint to its biblical theological conclusion, revealing God’s deeper purposes: “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:35–39)

God was pleased to crush His own suffering Son on the cross (Isaiah 53:10), despite Jesus’ absolute faithfulness to His Father. Jesus Christ was led like a lamb to the slaughter (Isaiah 53:7), to pay for the sins of His people (Isaiah 53:4-6). But that was not the end of the story. By His death, resurrection and ascension to the right hand of the Father, Jesus Christ overwhelmingly conquered death and hell in order to save His precious people. And because of His victory, God’s people likewise overwhelmingly conquer, even in the face of death and intense persecution.

May our faithful God grant to the precious Afghani believers protection, shelter, and safety from raging lion who walks about, seeking to devour them. And when God in His wise and faithful providence determines not to grant temporal protection, may He give His people courage, strength, endurance, grace, mercy, and comfort as they faithfully bear their honorable battle-scars for His name’s sake. He will wipe away every tear.

“After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.” (1 Peter 5:10)

He's not a mere man, Mark 5:21-43

There is an interesting incident recorded in Mark 5:21-43, in which a synagogue official begs Jesus to heal his dying daughter. While He is walking to the man’s house, a woman who was hemorrhaging blood touches His garment, creating a delay—a delay in which the man’s daughter dies. After speaking with the woman, Jesus continues on to the synagogue official’s house, and raises his twelve-year-old daughter from the dead. All three synoptic gospels contain the account (Matthew 9:18-26, Luke 8:41-56).

I’ve always found this account interesting, imagining the agony that father goes through when he sees Jesus delayed by the woman, only to hear that his daughter has died. I have wondered how he responded to that fatal interruption. “If only this woman had not distracted the Teacher, my little girl would still be alive!” Did he then have faith that Jesus could not only heal, but restore life to the dead? The account does not make clear his reaction, other than that Jesus told him, “Do not be afraid any longer, only believe” (Mark 5:36). Jesus then goes on to bring the man’s daughter back to life.

There’s an interesting side story to this, and it revolves around “touching.” There are several references to physical contact in the account. In 5:27, 28, and 30 are references to the fact that the woman touches Jesus. Verse 31 contains the disciples’ exasperated reaction to the affair. Once Jesus arrives at the synagogue official’s home, he takes the little girl’s hand. While Mark 5:41 does not use the verb “touch” it is obviously physical contact with her corpse.

So what’s the big deal? It’s a little subtle, but it is significant. In Leviticus 15:17-27 Moses instructs the people that a woman with a discharge of blood is “unclean,” and anything or anyone who touches her during that time also becomes unclean. In Numbers 19:22 it is clear that ceremonial “uncleanness” is contagious. Anything an unclean person touches becomes unclean, and if someone else touches what the unclean has touched, they, too, become unclean.

Were Jesus a mere man then He would have been made unclean by contact with the woman. As unclean, it is unthinkable that the power of God would have been present with Him to raise the little girl. And by the way, touching the corpse of the little girl would have likewise rendered Jesus unclean (Numbers 19:11).

But Jesus is not a mere man. He is the Glory of God tabernacled among us, as John tells us: “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14, NASB95).

The word “dwelt” in John 1:14 is the verb form of the noun translated “tabernacle” in the LXX, the Greek version of the Old Testament. Jesus Himself is both God’s tabernacle and the final offering made there. And Exodus 30:26-29 tells us that the consecrated articles of the tabernacle are holy—and that anything that touches them becomes holy (Exodus 30:29).

The fact that Jesus did NOT become unclean through His contact with either the woman or the little girl, but rather THEY were “cleansed” through contact with Him demonstrates conclusively that He is no mere man but rather God in the flesh. He is the One who is able to make the unclean, clean, and the broken, whole.

Do Jesus’ actions in the temple condone the destruction of property as a legitimate form of protest?

In recent days our country has witnessed once again that racism still reigns in corrupt hearts. We have seen a recent flurry of horrific injustices being committed against law-abiding black citizens of the US. The most recent outrage was the sadistic murder of George Floyd by a dirty cop, a man wearing a uniform that is supposed to speak of protecting and serving the citizenry, not murdering them. Given the past history of the USA, these evil acts simply reinforce to many people of color the idea that they never will get fairness or justice in a country that nonetheless proclaims on the equality of all men.

All Americans should be concerned about this. All Americans should be heart-broken about injustice of any form, particularly when an entire race is on the receiving end of it. It calls for a continued struggle to enact just laws and to pray that individual hearts are changed by the Gospel of Christ.

One of the dangers when we see injustice is that our righteous outrage can easily become sinful anger—anger that provokes us to respond in a way less than Christ-honoring. I believe that the meme floating around on the web which displays Jesus cleansing the temple is an example of a reaction that does not honor Jesus. The meme implies that since Jesus destroyed property, therefore destruction of property is a valid form of protest.

Because of the gross misrepresentation of Scripture—and of Christ’s actions—such a train of thought presents, I feel it necessary to respond rather pointedly to that meme.

Like most twisted applications of Scripture, the meme ignores the biblical context and amounts to little more than a hijacking of Scripture to assert something that Scripture actually condemns as sin.

The biblical event is recorded in John 2:13-22.

Let’s begin examining the issue by asking some questions, starting with, who is Jesus as compared with who are we? Jesus is God, we are not. As God He can judge, condemn, and punish in ways we cannot. As God, all His ways are just—that is simply not true of us. One of the interesting points from the temple cleansing text in John is that the Jews asked Him by what authority He took action. Jesus answer in verse 19 is instructive: Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” This is essentially a claim of deity: Jesus was claiming to have the power of self-existence, the power of ultimate being. His disciples later understood it properly as a reference to Jesus power to raise Himself from the dead. In other words, Jesus’ claim to the authority to wreak such destruction in the temple was tied directly to the fact that He is God Himself.

Who owns the temple, the tables, the money changers, and the sheep on a thousand hills? Jesus does. It was “My Father’s house.” So Jesus was destroying property that belonged to Him, property that was located in the temple, not out in Jerusalem neighborhoods. That property was only in temporary possession of the money changers as a stewardship (one they were abusing!). It was not a random act of destruction.

Who laid down the law with respect to the proper use of the Temple? Yahweh did, and guess who Jesus is: Yahweh Himself. So in the cleansing of the temple Jesus was punishing the violators of both the sanctity of the temple and the sanctity of the Law. It is clear in the text (vv. 14-16) that Jesus was punishing the specific violators, not random individuals.

In any case, Jesus routinely did things in His earthly ministry that we are forbidden to do, such as forgiving sins (Matthew 9:1-6). While we are enjoined to forgive one another, we ourselves are not the forgivers of injustices committed against God Himself. Jesus could do what we cannot. Notice that Jesus’ action of cleansing the temple was never duplicated by the apostles—even though the temple corruption and money-changing persisted.

Not only is there a deep biblical context to the cleansing of the temple, there is also a contemporary cultural context to posting this meme, and it brings up more questions. What is our contemporary cultural context? In cities across America, random property is being destroyed as people give free reign to their anger at the horrific injustice of the murder of George Floyd. This anger is now manifesting itself in unlawful ways, and is working against justice.

So, what is someone saying when they present this meme on social media, given the current context? Are they simply stating a propositional truth, Jesus destroyed property? Or are they making the claim, Jesus destroyed property therefore it is a legitimate form of protest that aggrieved people can participate in? What is the agenda of posting the meme: the first statement, or the second?

To claim that former is all one means is possible, but what is the point in broadcasting that Jesus destroyed property if there is no larger meaning attached? It’s a little like randomly spouting facts: Jesus walked on dusty paths; Jesus drank water. Light bulbs are sold in Walmart. Uh-huh. So what? Unless you are attaching some theological significance to the statement, such as Jesus is Lord of all, therefore He may do as He pleases when He cleanses the temple, there’s not much point to such a statement.

Given the context of what is happening in America today, most people will read the meme and jump to the second agenda (regardless of what the poster actually intends): Jesus destroyed property therefore it is a legitimate form of protest that aggrieved people can participate in. If that is the subtext of the meme in most cases—and it is pretty obvious that it is—it raises more questions.

If destruction of property is a legitimate form of protest, on what grounds do you decide whose property is to be destroyed? Must the owner be personally connected with the event that caused the aggravation, or is random destruction acceptable?

If random destruction is acceptable, where is the God-honoring justice in that? On the other hand, if the owner (of the property to be destroyed) is guilty of actions that caused the riot leading to such chaos, is that a matter for the law to handle, or for mob justice? Do we really want mob justice? Does not this meme bring to mind that verse in Judges 17:6, “every man did what was right in his own eyes”? Judges was a time of perverse moral chaos. That verse is a rebuke, not a commendation.

One cannot evade these questions. Justice demands an answer. Posting this meme in our current social context at best displays a misunderstanding of Scripture, and at worst a devious twisting of Scripture. The temple text is not teaching us anything about means of legitimate human protest.

When I resort to the destruction of someone else’s property, it is sin. It is not an option for any Christ-honoring believer. Jesus did what He did in the temple because He is God and He owns it all—for Him it was not sin. We are not God, and destroying someone else’s property is the equivalent of theft. Ignoring this crucial distinction not only twists the Scripture in the worst way, the meme encourages more sin and violence from those who now think they have biblical permission to destroy things. What we need to destroy is hatred. What we need to change, are hearts.

The Bible should have the last word: Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men. If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. “But if your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:17–21, NASB95)

The Day In Between

The priests quietly prepared the temple for the morning sacrifice. The silver trumpets sounded, signaling the sunrise and the beginning of the daily ordinances of worship. It was the Sabbath, the calm after yesterday’s storm.

Yesterday was Passover and Jerusalem had been a noisy, busy place, half the people crowding toward the massive temple gates, Passover lambs in hand, even while a Roman execution entertained the other half. It had been chaotic. The Galilean Jews had celebrated Passover two days before in accordance with the calendar observed by the northern Jews, an anomaly tolerated by the priests as it spread the sacrifices over two days, making the celebration easier to manage.

But yesterday. Oh, what a day! The Galilean carpenter had been condemned to the cross, not a week after entering the city to noisy acclaim. And what a week it was. He’d taught daily in the temple, silenced the priests with his answers and riddles, and condemned the corruption of the religious system. Some wondered if he was Messiah. Others thought he was a cheap pretender. It no longer mattered, however, because the Romans had crucified him yesterday. Whatever the Galilean movement was, everyone thought it was over

.

The Garden where He lay was deathly silent. The guard was in place, the seal unbroken. The disciples were nowhere to be found—some said they were in hiding, others that they had fled towards Galilee. A rumor was circulating that He would rise—but it was just a rumor. But some were saying, wait until the third day and then we will know if it’s true.

The priests, on whom the lot had fallen to trim the lamps in the Holy Place, entered the sanctuary and began their duties quietly, until one gasped. They looked at the offender who’d broken the holy silence. With terror in his eyes, he was pointing to the curtain. Turning to look they saw that the great veil was torn and they could see directly into the Most Holy Place, dimly illuminated by the lamplight reflecting off the golden walls. The Mercy Seat was clearly visible.

One fell on his face, overcome by terror. Most of the others fled. One fell to his knees, lifting his hands and face toward heaven, his mouth filled with praise. He’d been listening to the Galilean, and now he finally understood. The final Passover Lamb had been slain—yesterday—on the cross. The Way to Elohim was now open.

Before the Throne of God Above

The Gospel is not merely the starting-block of a relationship with Christ. It is also the track on which we run the race, our sure and certain foundation on which we face the daily vagaries, blessings, and opportunities of life.

A song that explores this truth in theologically precise, poetically beautiful words is "Before the Throne of God Above" by Charitie Lees Smith.

I've posted these words before, but they are just too powerful to ever let them get far from memory.

Before the throne of God above

I have a strong, a perfect plea;

A great High Priest, whose Name is Love,

Who ever lives and pleads for me.

My name is graven on His hands,

My name is written on His heart;

I know that while with God He stands

No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair,

And tells me of the guilt within,

Upward I look, and see Him there

Who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died,

My sinful soul is counted free;

For God, the Just, is satisfied

To look on Him and pardon me.

Behold Him there, the risen Lamb!

My perfect, spotless Righteousness,

The great unchangeable I AM,

The King of glory and of grace.

One with Himself, I cannot die;

My soul is purchased by His blood;

My life is hid with Christ on high,

With Christ, my Savior and my God.

Book Review: Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ

Two things impressed me most about this book: the warmth and engaging call of the gospel in every chapter, and Keller’s skillful way of handling complex theological topics with wonderful precision. Keller’s treatment of the favorite Christmas passages is complete with God’s sovereign grace, man’s corruption and sin, the need to respond in faith, the fact that faith is something only God gives, the Lordship that salvation demands, and on and on. I’ve never seen it put so humbly, so gently, so clearly, so accurately, so concisely. But the average reader won’t even know he’s reading a theological tour de force—it’s just the Christmas story, well told, suffused with the gospel. Keller writes like a modern-day C. S. Lewis, wrapping profound theology in the language of Everyman. There is no jargon in this book.

Keller manages to get beyond the matters that divide in our current social scene and strikes right to the heart of our brokenness and sin. You can hand Hidden Christmas to the most radical leftist, or to a Constitutional conservative, and neither will be offended by anything but the presentation of the cross itself.

I’ve read a few, not all, of Keller’s books. This is the best so far, which is saying a lot since the others have been so good. In Hidden Christmas the author takes the Christmas texts from Matthew and Luke and carefully unfolds their meanings. A Liberty and Westminster grad, I’ve been preaching and teaching since 1978, and in every chapter Keller is writing about things I’ve never noticed in these passages of Scripture, and they are powerful and profound!

Hidden Christmas is the gospel presentation you’ve been waiting for. Get a copy, enjoy it yourself, and then pass it on to a loved one. Highly recommended.

An interesting trajectory

I am reading through the New Testament in my personal quiet time, and was arrested by the first sentence of Mark—which then made me think of the first sentence of Matthew, and then of the rest of the Gospels. More on this in a moment.

Now as I understand it, it is the content of the canon—not necessarily the arrangement of it—that is inspired. Such things as the chapter and verse divisions are not inspired, having been added well after the canon was complete as an aid to study. Nonetheless, the arrangement and items like the chapter and verse divisions often provide interesting observations (though not authoritative in the sense that the content is authoritative).

For instance, the number of books in the English version of the canon is sixty-six. Don’t get too carried away with this, because the Jews considered Samuel to be one book, not two (because it is a long book, it had to be divided into two scrolls, hence “First” and “Second” Samuel). Same with Kings and Chronicles. So the number sixty-six is an artifact of the Christian version of the canon. But even as such, there are some interesting bits of trivia to think about—like the arrangement of Isaiah, for instance.

The English version of the canon has sixty-six books, thirty-nine Old Testament books, twenty-seven New Testament books. Isaiah has sixty-six chapters. Contrast the major emphasis of the first thirty-nine chapters with that of the last twenty-seven. Check out how chapter forty (the first chapter of the final twenty-seven) begins—compare it with Matthew 3. Think about what the last twenty-seven chapters of Isaiah focuses upon. Neat, huh. [I would love to give credit—or blame!!—where credit is due, but I don’t remember how I happened upon this. Someone probably mentioned it in seminary, but I don’t remember.]

So back to the first lines of the Gospels. There’s a trajectory there that is interesting to me. Matthew 1:1 begins by identifying Jesus as the son of David and the son of Abraham—which means He is the heir of the promises to David and Abraham. Then Mark 1:1 identifies Jesus as the Son of God, which more explicitly links Jesus to the promise in 2 Samuel 7:14. But the statement is not necessarily radical, because there’s evidence that the Old Testament Israelites considered their kings to be sons of God—not in the divine sense, mind you—but in the sense that they were the theocratic representatives of the God of Israel.

But the first sentence of Luke is as though the reader is tracking with the trajectory and is getting a sense for where it is going, and is not quite ready for it. The reader steps back and asks the incredulous question, “Wait a minute! Did this stuff really happen in history? Is it for real?” which Luke then proceeds to answer in the affirmative.

And finally, the first sentence of John hits the target to which the other first-sentences were leading. It identifies Jesus as God. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Anyway, it’s not profound, but it is an interesting trajectory.

What's happened to American academics?

One would like to think that advanced educational attainment is not a dominant factor in causing people to lose all common sense, but after this week I am beginning to wonder.

I found myself having a cordial but firm disagreement with a young lady who possesses a Masters and Bachelors in History and who teaches history in a local community college. She was admonishing a young college student who is in my church regarding Islam. She made the claim that “Muslims are not violent. ISIS is not Muslim if you study their history. ISIS is to Islam in the same manner the KKK is to Christianity. Can't label billions for the actions of a few.”

Certainly I agree with her that you can’t label the billions for the actions of a few. But I am astounded that a woman who teaches history would have such an unhistorical knowledge of the background of Islam. A native of Mecca, Muhammad’s new religion was not accepted—at first—by the other tribes around him. They were polytheists and he was selling monotheism. He fled from Mecca to Medina, where he had greater success in building a following. Mecca itself later converted under the threat of the sword in the early seventh century. The rapid expansion of Islam in the entire Mediterranean region occurred primarily by military conquest, or the threat thereof. Islamic violence is not breaking news, it is a deep-rooted part of their history and finds vigorous theological support in the Quran. ISIS is perhaps the most faithful representation of Islamic roots that we have seen in the modern day.

She is correct that most Muslims today do not pursue violent jihad. Some have reinterpreted the Quran to view jihad as a personal spiritual battle in their pursuit of personal Islamic purity. But it will be unhelpful from both a national policy and personal relational standpoint to revise the history of Islam. Relationships built upon falsehoods are inherently unstable and unsustainable.

The second moment of dismay with academics this week also had to do with Islam. According to an article by Jessica Chasmar appearing in the Washington Times(12/16/2015), a “Christian” tenured Wheaton College faculty member said this:

“I love my Muslim neighbor because s/he deserves love by virtue of her/his human dignity. I stand in religious solidarity with Muslims because they, like me, a Christian, are people of the book. And as Pope Francis stated last week, we worship the same God.”

I agree with her that we need to love our neighbor, including and especially our Muslim neighbors at a time like this. And I can grant her the stated reason of “human dignity,” though I would frame it a different way: we should love our neighbor because Christ commands us to and because all humans bear the image of God.

But her other reasons are simply incoherent. By definition a Christian is one who places their faith in the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ for their sins. Muslims don’t believe that Jesus died on the cross, period. Which sort of puts a kibosh on the resurrection, too, you know? In other words, they deny the central doctrine of the Christian faith. Soooo, in what way exactly can she stand in “religious solidarity” with them?

Secondly, they are indeed people of the book. But it’s the wrong book. This is not trivial sectarianism. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING we know about God and redemptive history comes from the Bible. You don’t lose part of it in the Quran—you lose all of it. Soooo, how can this “Christian” professor make such a claim, tell me again?

Third, I am to understand that we worship the same God? Really? In fact, there is no resemblance, neither superficial nor at greater depth. The true God, the Christian God, exists as one God in three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. That truth is abominable to the Muslim. Both Christians and Muslims claim that their God is merciful, so that might be a similarity—until you dig deeper, anyway. Then you find that the true God of the Bible is merciful because it is His nature to be merciful and He always acts in perfect accord with who He is. Allah is not so. Allah is pure will. Islam does not think in terms of the attributes of its deity, only in terms of his will. Allah is only merciful if he decides to be so, and he may decide not to be. There is simply no correlation to be made between the true God of the Bible and the god of Islam—unless one is entirely ignorant of one or the other—or of both.

I applaud this professor’s desire to love her neighbor and to avoid disenfranchising her Muslim friends, and I stand with her in that regard. But if you stop and think about her words for just a moment you’ll realize she has dishonored both Christian and Islamic belief by trying to forge a non-existent via media between two irreconcilable belief systems. I certainly can’t stand with her there.

America once had a great educational system. But the words of these two educators make me wonder, what’s happened to American academics? They are not getting even the most basic facts right.

The sine qua non of knowing God

A condition described as sine qua non is an absolutely essential condition; the expression means “without which not.” The “sine qua non of knowing God” designates an essential condition that must be satisfied in order for one to know God truly.

“He,” said Jesus, speaking of the Holy Spirit, “will glorify Me, for He will take of Mine and will disclose it to you” (John 16:14). “Whatever you ask in My name,” Jesus instructed His disciples, “that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son” (John 14:13). “I have glorified You on the earth,” prayed Jesus to His heavenly Father in John 17:4-5, “having accomplished the work which You have given me to do. Now, Father, glorify Me together with Yourself, with the glory which I had with You before the world was.”

In that most beloved passage about the humiliation and exaltation of Jesus Christ, Philippians 2:5-11, God highly exalts His Son, giving Him a name which is above every name, with the result that at the name of Jesus, every knee will bow and “that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:11).

But what is particularly interesting is the phrase: “to the glory of God the Father.” The Father is glorified when Christ is exalted as Lord; in other words, if I wish to glorify the Father I do so by exalting the Son, worshiping the Son, bowing before the Son as Thomas did and confessing, “My Lord and my God” (John 20:28). To deny the Son is to deny the Father. “He who does not honor the Son,” Jesus asserted, “does not honor the Father who sent Him” (John 5:23). The apostle John proclaims, “Whoever denies the Son does not have the Father; the one who confesses the Son has the Father also” (1 John 2:23).

What a conundrum have they who claim to worship the Father, and yet deny the truth of the trinitarian nature of God—that God exists as three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. For Jesus to recieve worship must of necessity mean that He is fully divine—fully God—otherwise the worship of Jesus Christ is idolatry.

In denying the deity of Christ, one dishonors the Father who sent Christ. No one may approach the Father except through the Son (John 14:6). “You know neither Me nor My Father,” Jesus said to the Pharisees. “If you knew Me, you would know My Father also” (John 5:19).

The Father is not truly known, except through the Son. Knowing and worshiping Christ is the sine qua non of knowing and worshiping the Father. If you don't worship Jesus Christ as God, then you do not truly know the God of the Bible. At least, that's what the Bible says.

Book Review: Show Them Jesus

Show Them Jesus is reputed to be a book about teaching the gospel to kids, as the subtitle suggests. But it’s actually a captivating, practical theology, expanding what it means to be united with Christ through the gospel. The author does an outstanding job of weaving an orthodox understanding of the gospel of grace into an instruction manual for reading, interpreting, and teaching the Bible through the lens of our union with Christ.

As a manual for teachers and parents, it is indispensable. The author provides practical tips in each chapter teaching how to uncover the Bible's emphasis on Jesus Christ in the background of every story. He demonstrates that the gospel is always the point. The moralism that pervades much of modern children's ministry curriculum is exposed as a sterile legalism that perverts rather than proclaims the gospel.

 But suppose you aren’t a teacher, or a parent. Suppose your view of the gospel has been that, yes, I am saved through faith, and now that I am saved God’s love for me and pleasure in me is commensurate with my obedience. That if two pounds of obedience yields two pounds of love from the Father, four pounds of obedience will double His love. Klumpenhower gently dismantles that perspective, showing that the gospel of grace is always the rule through which God views His children. This book is balm to the soul of one who has been raised in a performance-based Christian environment. Using fascinating illustrations from years of communicating the gospel to kids, the author wields an impressive command of Scripture to demonstrate that the Christian is beloved by God precisely because he is in Christ.

For too long the vital doctrine of Union with Christ has been overlooked by the Church. Happily, in our day it’s being rediscovered. This little volume is part of that renewed appreciation. Though there are a few bones I might pick at in chapter nine, I just love this book. Five stars. Ten stars, really. I thoroughly recommend this book—both as an instruction book for parents and teachers, and as a volume useful for counseling someone who’s entrapped in perfectionism or a performance mentality.

The "expulsive power of a new affection"

Iain Duguid is a new Old Testament professor at Westminster Theological Seminary. The school has released a pamphlet written by Duguid, that clarifies the WTS position on Christ in the OT. The reading below is an excerpt from this pamphlet, "Is Jesus in the Old Testament?" and deals with truth that the Gospel addresses our failures to live as we ought.

How do we address this gap between what we know and what we do? Sermons and Bible studies that focus on "law" (the demands of Scripture for our obedience), no matter how accurately biblical in content, tend to simply add to the burden of guilt felt by the average Christian. A friend of mine calls these sermons "another brick in the backpack"--you arrive at church knowing five ways in which you are falling short of God's standard for your life, and you leave knowing ten, doubly burdened.

In my experience such teaching yields little by way of life transformation, especially in terms of the joy and peace that are supposed to mark the Christian life. Focusing on the gospel, however, has the power to change our lives at a deep level. Through the gospel we come to see both the true depth of our sin (and therefore that our earlier feelings of guilt were actually far too shallow), while at the same time being reminded of the glorious good news that Jesus is our perfect substitute who removes our sin and guilt. He lived the life of obedience in our place and fulfilled the relentless clamor of the law's demands, and he took upon himself the awful punishment that our sin truly deserves. As the Holy Spirit enables us to grasp this gospel reality, he frees us from our guilt and refreshes us with a deep joy that motivates our hearts to love God anew. In this way, the gospel begins the slow transformative work of changing us from the inside out. This is what the nineteenth-century Scottish pastor Thomas Chalmers called the "expulsive power of a new affection": the fact that profound change in our behavior always comes through a change in what we love most, not through external coercion.

Amen.

And a little more Tozer!

Lost in today’s religious world is the radical antithesis between the redeemed and the unregenerate. “Coming to church” has become the test of faith, rather than joyful belief in and submission to the pure, unadulterated message of the Gospel. But “coming to church” is a duty attended to by all the world’s religions, and no more makes one a Christian than a visit to a clinic makes one a medical doctor.

Christianity is first and last a relationship with a real, living Person—Jesus Christ, a relationship possible only when one has been regenerated, brought from a state of spiritual death to life. It is not wrapped up in the confession of a concept, the reciting of a creed, the joining of a church, or warm religious feelings. Jesus Christ is the Living God—which means He actually exists as a real person, a thinking, choosing, volitional, emotional Being. He exists wholly independently from creation, from people, from human consciousness. He was before all things, and by Him all things exist.

Any religious sensibility that names Jesus and confesses to love and admire Him yet falls short of a genuine redemptive relationship with Him as a real, living Person is in no way Christian. Tozer’s comments on this sort of “Christianity”—which is essentially unchanged by an encounter with Christ and feels equally comfortable with the world and the Church—are helpful.

It is no more than a religious platitude to say that the trouble with us today is that we have tried to bridge the gulf between two opposites, the world and the Church, and have performed an illicit marriage for which there is no biblical authority. Actually no real union between the world and the Church is possible. When the Church joins up with the world it is the true Church no longer but only a pitiful hybrid thing, an object of smiling contempt to the world and an abomination to the Lord.

The twilight in which many (or should we say most?) believers walk today is not caused by any vagueness on the part of the Bible. Nothing could be clearer than the pronouncements of the Scriptures on the Christian’s relation to the world. The confusion which gathers around this matter results from the unwillingness of professing Christians to take the Word of the Lord seriously. Christianity is so entangled with the world that millions never guess how radically they have missed the New Testament pattern. Compromise is everywhere. The world is whitewashed just enough to pass inspection by blind men posing as believers, and those same believers are everlastingly seeking to gain acceptance with the world. By mutual concessions men who call themselves Christians manage to get on with men who have for the things of God nothing but quiet contempt.

This whole thing is spiritual in its essence. A Christian is what he is not by ecclesiastical manipulation but by the new birth. He is a Christian because of a Spirit which dwells in him. Only that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. The flesh can never be converted into spirit, no matter how many church dignitaries work on it. Confirmation, baptism, holy communion, confession of faith—none of these nor all of them together can turn flesh into spirit nor make a son of Adam a son of God [Tozer, ThePursuit of Man, pp 115-7].

Mine, all mine . . .

Psalm 39 is my psalm.

Sorry, bub; move along; you’re going to have to find your own psalm! Thirty-nine is mine!

Many of David’s psalms I don’t identify with so well. For example, I don’t have any real enemies; at least, I don’t think I do. So the “save me from all my enemies” psalms sort of zoom right past me. The penitential psalms I identify with completely. I’ve had ample opportunity to pray them. But the ones that complain about enemies, not so much.**

Except Psalm 39. You know who the enemy is in that psalm? David is his own enemy. He’s being chastened for sin: Remove your plague from me; because of the opposition of your hand I am perishing. With reproofs You chasten a man for iniquity; (vv 10-11a).

And he’s got his nose bent out of joint about it, so he’s afraid to speak in public: I said I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue; I will guard my mouth as with a muzzle while the wicked are in my presence (v 1).

Ever been in a really bad mood? You know they can read it on your face. And you know your attitude is sinful. And you don’t even want to open your mouth, because you know whatever comes out won’t be in keeping with Ephesians 4:29. Ever been there? Me? Seems like I make a visit there several times every day, at least.

Anyway, David did not want to dishonor God anymore than he already had by his sin (of which we know nothing). So he was keeping his mouth shut. But he knew what was going on: I have become mute, I do not open my mouth, because it is You who have done it (v 9). He knew that his troubles at that moment were from God's chastening rod.

So he’s biting his tongue. In fact, he’s not saying anything, good or bad: I was mute and silent, I refrained even from good, and my sorrow grew worse (v 2).

Finally he’s had enough and gets by himself (I’m reading that into the psalm), and begins to pour out his complaint and seek his God: My heart was hot within me, while I was musing, the fire burned; then I spoke with my tongue: Lord, make me to know my end and what is the extent of my days; let me know how transient I am (vv 3-4).

Are you your own worst enemy? The fact of the matter is, unless you have reached some exalted state of sanctification, you probably are. I know I am. Maybe I ought to speak for myself, though. I certainly don’t know your heart. Don’t even really know mine (Jeremiah 17:9). But this I do know: no low-down, lop-eared, son of a gun gives me as much grief as . . . I do.

Anyway, I like how this psalm runs its course. I can identify with that, too. David’s still struggling at the end of the psalm. He’s not wearing some syrupy sweet grin and a “Smile, Jesus loves you” pin. Instead, he’s still crying out, Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear to my cry; do not be silent at my tears; for I am a stranger with you, a sojourner like all my fathers (v 12).

I can’t really identify with the sentimental “my dear Jesus, sweetest name I know” lingo. I know folks who talk like that and really think like that, and who really do mean it.

I’m just not there, not yet anyway. Terms like, sovereign Lord Jesus Christ, Lord God Almighty, Ancient of Days, and so on, speak far more to me than the personal intimacy stuff. And now, Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You. Deliver me from all my transgressions; make me not the reproach of the foolish (vv 7-8). Now, that’s my language.

Like I said, buddy: move over and find your own psalm. This one’s mine.

[**The main reason for this, I believe, is that Christ faced and defeated those enemies for me on the cross. Those psalms are largely (but not exclusively) Christocentric. I say not exclusively, because when we do find ourselves with actual enemies, we’ll find those psalms on our lips. I expect this is especially true of the persecuted Church. If I ever undergo such persecution, I’m sure that I, too, will identify more closely with those beautiful psalms.]

In what way is Jesus God's Son?

One of the aspects of the mystery of the Godhead is the Father-Son relationship of the first and second members of the Trinity (ie. God the Father, and God the Son). There are are many terms that can trip you up surrounding this topic, such as only-begotten, or firstborn of creation, aside from the term, Son, itself.

The mistake most people make is to assume that these expressions have to do with physical generation (natural birth) as opposed to Jesus' uniqueness, and His positions of functional submission to the Father, heir of the Father, and the preeminent One over all creation.

Recently a sister in Christ had an encounter with a modern-day Arian (aka Jehovah's Witness), and it spurred her to ask a question. You can read the question, and my answer, here.

Immanuel

We know this name! We refer to it at Christmas time; it’s one of the names of Jesus. Matthew makes sure that we non-Hebrew speakers know what it means: “God with us” (Matt 1:23).

Was doing some Bible reading this morning, was in the book of Isaiah. What a great book! Finally understood an odd verse for the first time. In chapter seven, during the days of evil king Ahaz, Judah was invaded from the north by a coalition army made up of Israel (aka, Ephraim, or the Northern Kingdom) and Syria (also known as the Arameans).

The year was 734 BC. There was a fresh, growing power in the north: Assyria. The Assyrian king, Tiglath-pileser, was consolidating his power and doing battle with his opponents to his east, in Urartu. The small kingdoms to Tiglath-pileser’s south, Syria (capital: Damascus, king: Rezin) and Israel (also known as Ephraim, capital: Samaria, king: Pekah) saw this as a good time to form an anti-Assyrian military coalition. They courted Judah (capital: Jerusalem, king: Ahaz), seeking an alliance. When Judah refused, Syria and Israel decided they could not afford to have a possible pro-Assyrian opponent to their rear, and so assaulted Judah with the intent of setting up their own puppet king, Tabeel, on the throne of Jerusalem.

To make matters worse, the Philistines to the west, and Edom, to the southeast, chose just this time to make trouble for Judah as well, with the result that the tiny mountain kingdom was now involved in a hot war on three sides.

Which brings us to Isaiah chapter seven. Reports of the advancing coalition army to the north are brought to king Ahaz and he is scared to death, along with all Judah (7:2). Isaiah is told to meet the frightened king and to encourage him. He is to acknowledge the gravity of the situation, including the intent of the aggressors to depose Ahaz (7:3-6). And then he is to give this message:

thus says the Lord God, “It shall not stand nor shall it come to pass. For the head of Aram is Damascus and the head of Damascus is Rezin . . . , and the head of Ephraim is Samaria and the head of Samaria is the son of Remaliah. If you will not believe, you surely shall not last.” Isaiah 7:7-9 (NASB)

Sounds strange to our ears, does it not? The last sentence we get, because it has to do with faith and we understand faith, as believers in Christ. But, “the head of Aram is Damascus, and the head of Damascus is Rezin.” What’s that all about? And “the head of Ephraim is Samaria, and the head of Samariah is the son of Remaliah [aka, Pekah].” How is that comforting, or encouraging?

Isaiah invites Ahaz to ask for a sign of God’s faithfulness. Ahaz refuses, but Isaiah gives him a sign anyway.

“Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, and she will call His name Immanuel. He will eat curds and honey at the time He knows enough to refuse evil and choose good. For before the boy will know enough to refuse evil and choose good, the land whose two kings you dread will be forsaken.” Isaiah 7:14-16 (NASB)

What is the sign? It is that a young woman, a virgin, will bring forth a child who will be named Immanuel. By the time the boy is old enough to begin distinguishing between right and wrong, the nations behind the invading coalition army will themselves have been destroyed.

Now we are in the position to understand both the odd comfort of 7:8-9 and that of verse 14.

Think! What is the capital of the Aramean army? Damascus. Who rules Damascus, thus providing help and sustenance to the Arameans? Rezin.

What is the capital of the Ephraimite army? Samaria. Who rules Samaria, thus providing help and sustenance to the Ephraimite army? Pekah, the son of Remaliah.

Or to put it another way, who is with Aram? Who is with Ephraim?

Are you seeing it yet?

Who is with Judah? The name of the child is the answer, and comprises the message of comfort for Ahaz: Immanuel, God with us, or as the margin of the NASB puts it, God is with us!

Why is this promise so secure and so powerful? Because Judah is the remnant through whom God’s covenant promise of a Davidic Kingdom will be fulfilled. Which is what makes the occurence of the phrase, “house of David” so interesting. It occurs but three times in the entire book of Isaiah. Two of those occurences are here, in Isaiah 7: once in verse 2 in which the bad news of the invasion is announced, and once in verse 13 in which the promise of deliverance is proclaimed. The promise is secure because God’s covenant with David is secure, and Ahaz belongs to the house of David.

Which is also what makes Isaiah’s child’s name so interesting: Shear-jashub (7:3) means a remnant shall return. God will always preserve His remnant. Isaiah is instructed to take that child with him to the meeting with Ahaz, as a reminder to the beleagured king.

True to God’s promise, Aram and Ephraim are destroyed within a very few years and the Assyrians are the destructive instruments in God’s hands. Unfortunately, Ahaz choses not to believe, and both Judah and he pay dearly for the king’s unbelief.

There’s much more here, but that’s enough for now.

Isaiah 7:14 is not only a Messianic announcement; it’s an announcement with a context, a context that helps us understand the Messiah. When death reigned through sin, God sent Immanuel, who accomplished the impossible and defeated sin and death and delivered us by His sacrifice on the cross, and His resurrection to life.

And again, when surrounded by overwhelming odds and certain defeat, when the Christian is in danger of being overrun by fear, tragedy, suffering, failure, death, there is that name, that reminder: Immanuel, God with us.