That moment when you realize you're an idiot.

Have you ever had one of those “aha!” moments in which an aspect of your own behavior you had thought wise is revealed to be utterly foolish?

Having preached on wisdom this morning from Proverbs 2, this is a particularly embarrassing “aha.” More like an “oops.” Or perhaps a “well, duh!” Maybe even a “you bonehead!”

‘Twill be a bit complicated to unwind this thing, so bear with me. It’s about my books [I write books you’ve never heard of, okay?]. It’s about trusting in the Lord, or rather, misplaced trust. No, I must be honest here: it’s about sheer, fire-engine red, fog-horn-blasting stupidity. On my part.

Maybe I’d better back up and start over. I write books. I like to write. I write great stories [just ask me—I’ll tell you]. But I hate marketing. So I figured to be religious about this marketing business: “If the Lord wants my books to sell, He’ll make it happen.” Sounds very spiritual, doesn’t it? Sounds like real confidence in the Lord, right? It’s super-spiritual, wise serenity, right?

Well, yeah. Of course it is  . . . At least, it sounds that way.

Until we apply that logic elsewhere. Allow me to demonstrate:

“If the Lord wants this field to grow my crops, He’ll plant the seed.”

“If the Lord wants me to pay my bills, He’ll bring in the money whether or not I work.”

“If the Lord wants me to be a marathon runner, He’ll give me the cardio, the leg muscles, and the absolute foolishness [wait, I didn’t actually say that, did I?] to run 26.2 miles. [Don’t forget the point two, otherwise you ain’t crossin’ that finish line, Bubba.]

We pause now for theological identification . . .

The theology in the prior paragraph is known as Keswick theology, and is usually identified by the mantra “let go and let God.” While there is a time and place in which that saying has good credibility (such as, I’m going to let go of my dream of a pain-free life, and let God work through me even in the midst of my suffering), in most cases it winds up meaning, “I’m going to stop sweating it and sit back in my rocker and let God sanctify me.” The problem is that many purveyors of this theology forget to ever get out of the rocker, i.e. they missed the memo that said, “DISCIPLINE thyself to godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7).

We now resume our normal programming . . .

So, there I was, letting go and letting God, trusting Him to not only cause the growth but cultivate and plant the ground as well. I have been doing NOTHING at all about marketing these six excellent stories I have written. It finally struck me the other day that though I profess the biblical view of sanctification, when it came to my books I am a functional Keswicker [is that even a word?].

That’s gonna change. I still HATE MARKETING. But I see now that I need to work hard at it, and THEN trust the Lord for the results. So for the near future, there’s gonna be less writing and more marketing. [Sigh. I really, really don’t like marketing . . .]

A Motivation for the Study of Theology

[From my introduction to the student notes for ATT Session 7, on the Incommunicable Attributes of God]

There is an important lesson waiting for us in Scripture, and it has to do with knowing God. The lesson is this: the true knowledge of God, when wholeheartedly embraced, is in itself sufficient to enable us to meet life's suffering and disappointments. 

We humans get this backwards. In our minds, what is necessary to meet the need of human suffering is human comfort. It certainly is important to care and express human sympathy, support, and compassion. And it is quite right and loving to do so.

But the Book of Job has something to contribute to this discussion of the sufficiency of the knowledge of God. Job suffered as few have. He lost his children, his wealth, and his health. All in a single day. His wife's helpful advice was, "Curse God and die!" (Job 2:9).

Job had three outstanding friends who sought to comfort him, investing a huge amount of time with him, grieving silently with him for seven straight days and nights. Then they sought to help him by bringing some perspective to his suffering. It is easy to blame Job's friends, but you must admit that they had earned a hearing by their obvious care for him. But their attempts at comfort fell short. They blamed Job for sin he had not committed, and Job retreated into self-righteousness, ultimately intimating that God was unfair.

But it was God who brought resolution and comfort to the situation. God sent a young man by the name of Elihu to set the stage by defending God's sovereign righteousness. God Himself then finally appeared and spoke to Job. What God said to Job is jarring to our perception of how a suffering person should be comforted. God essentially said, "Job! Look at me! Are you as great as I am? Can you do what I can do?"

When God was finished, Job repented of his self-righteousness and became satisfied in his God. Did you get that? Job was comforted when he gazed on the greatness of his God!

Think of the Letters to the Seven Churches in Revelation chapters two and three. Each of the churches was suffering some form of persecution. They each were facing certain dangers. But God opens each letter by describing Himself, and closes each by giving them a promise. 

What I am saying is this: we are so designed, so created, so wrought that we find our greatest comfort, satisfaction and delight in knowing truly our God. At the end of the day, your proper knowledge of theology is comforting and sustaining. The Catholic Church has a name for this: they call it the Beatific Vision. The Beatific Vision is said to be the eternal and direct perception of God enjoyed by those who are in Heaven, imparting supreme happiness or blessedness [wikipedia]. But we have the beatific vision now, in a sense, as we see our God through His Son and His Word. And it does indeed impart supreme happiness and blessedness--and comfort in the midst of suffering.

Is there a better reason to study theology?

Review: Killing Calvinism, by Greg Dutcher

This isn’t really a review, it’s more of a brief reflection. Dutcher has identified the weak underbelly of the Young, Restless, and Reformed stream of Christianity today. As with all critiques of this nature, the author is speaking of the movement in general; the reader will always find exceptions in his personal experience. That said, you will do yourself no favors if in quibbling on this point or that you miss the overall thrust of Dutcher’s theme: Calvinistic theology is in danger of being controverted by the arrogance of some of its proponents. I remember once thinking of a bombast I was listening to, “If you are a Christian, please don’t tell anyone else.” One could say the same thing about some of Calvinism’s fans. And there have been times one could say the same thing about me.

Dutcher is not dealing with the arrogance of our opponents or their faults or failures; he’s pointing out sin in our camp. We who love Scripture and thrill in the doctrines of grace and feel deeply the depravity of man should be the very first to recognize—and confess—the scent of that depravity among ourselves—and in ourselves.

Dutcher is not a cheap-shot artist in the tradition of those who find it easier to criticise than construct. He’s rather a voice calling us to repentance, and to love, appreciate, respect, and learn from those who differ. Pick up any good volume on church history and turn to the early church fathers and read what they wrestled with as the orthodoxy of the church was discovered from Scripture over the first five hundred years or so after Christ, before you start slinging around the term “heretic.” Read Augustine, for instance. That godly champion of justification by faith had an amazing amount of residual Roman Catholicism in his belief system. Shall we call him a heretic?

And is it not possible that both we and our brothers and sisters in Christ will experience some recapitulation of “faith seeking understanding” as we wrestle with the meaning of Scripture? How many of today’s enthusiastic Calvinists went through their early Christian life with an essentially Arminian understanding until their ongoing study of Scripture reformed their thinking? I know I did. And are we not willing to give our brothers and sisters the love and respect and time and space to work through the issues themselves, just as we did?

Our church has a two year course in advanced theological training. Dutcher’s book just became part of the required curriculum. I commend it without reservation.

Letter to a Seminary Student

A young man I respect very highly is taking seminary classes and beginning to wonder whether it is worth it. At the graduate level of theological study one gets exposed to much material that is of questionable value in terms of truth, but is necessary simply so that the student is aware of what's going on out there in the theological world. Sometimes it can get a little frustrating. He wrote, and here are snippets of his questions and my responses.

1. I'm noticing that we read and study a lot about the various theories and methodologies used to approach scripture, rather than the content in and of itself. It is feeling like man's words are being elevated above God's. I understand that there is much to be learned from men who God has blessed with scriptural understanding and the ability to communicate that material. I welcome that sort of instruction.

You’ve hit on a perennial problem in theological studies. Do we study the Word, or do we study what others say about the Word?

Some believe it is better to read nothing but the Bible. Anything else is the word of man, and not worthy of our time. On the other hand, no one in their right mind would argue that we should only study what others say about the Word, but in practice that is what some seem to do.

So what’s the answer? Study the Word, or commentaries and theologies? The answer is, “yes.” In other words, we should do both. In fact, God would have us do both.

According to Ephesians 4:11, one of the gifts God has given the church are pastor/teachers. In Acts 13:1 there are teachers at the church of Antioch. Note well: God gave the church teachers, not simply Scripture readers. In 1 Timothy 4:13 Paul instructs Timothy to give proper attention to the reading of the Word. But in the same verse he adds, “to exhortation, to teaching.”

Books written by men about the Bible are nothing other than their teaching ministries put to paper. They may be good teachers, poor teachers, or false teachers but the fact remains—God gives to His church teachers. And if the Lord gifts men for such a role (Romans 12:7), and gifts the church with such men (Ephesians 4:11), one can only assume we should be listening to them (and we should also be discerning who are the bad and false teachers so that we may reject those).

Having established that there is a place for reading the works of men—theologies, for instance—let me advocate a balance. One of the unfortunate tendencies I have seen among Internet theologians is a skillful use of theological terminology and concept, coupled with a shameful ignorance of the biblical text and an inability to deal with it. This is one of the reasons we have started limiting admission to our ATT class to those who have read the entire Bible through at least once. Theological literacy should always follow, never precede, basic biblical literacy.

One of the (many) things I really appreciated about Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia is the mandatory English Bible Exam all potential graduates must take and pass before being granted a degree. Someone wisely realized that it’s possible to produce propeller-heads who are experts in the languages of the Bible, skilled in theological concept and nuance, but basically ignorant of the text. And so the school insists that one must be able to name the Bible books in order, identify which books which texts come from, and other basic facts of biblical literacy before graduating. Unbelievably, there are enough people who fail the test that WTS has a remedial course for those who don’t get it on the first go-round.

Therefore, it is your job to establish that basic biblical literacy as you are taking your classes. If your classes are not requiring a significantly challenging amount of reading in the Bible itself, then you should be doing it in your own devotions. The purpose of a class in theology is to teach you theology: the results of someone else’s systematic, inductive study of the biblical text.

But to conclude that the study of theology is unnecessary is an equally bad mistake in the other direction. Whenever you encounter a verse in the Bible that is hard to understand, your reflexive instinct is to look for other passages dealing with the same period of time, or topic, or context, so that you may compare Scripture with Scripture and hopefully come to a better understanding. This practice has a name: “the analogy of faith.” Your interpretation of a passage needs to be compared with other passages to see that it does not contradict other texts.

Anytime you begin comparing one Scripture with another in order to determine meaning, you are employing a theological system. You may not be aware of it and it may not be a good theological system, but it is nonetheless true. You already have a theological system in place when you first approach the Bible. One of the goals of biblical and theological studies is to refine your personal theological system so that it is informed by the text and accurate in its understandings.

So let’s immediately dispense with the idea that you can read the Bible without doing theology. Not possible. The question is not whether you can dispense with theology (you can’t), but whether your theology is accurate to the text as a whole.

2. Yet, I question the motives of some (they seem prideful). I desire growth in the knowledge and understanding of God and His relationship with men.

Yes, generally speaking what you are seeing is real, and no one is exempt—not me, not you. Pride is a constant problem in theological studies. I think most recognize it and all godly theologians hate that capacity within themselves. Pride is something I struggle with every time I write or speak (and some will question why, seeing as how I have little to be proud about!).

In any sort of advanced theological studies (advanced being that which is done at the seminary level), you are going to be required to read materials you simply detest. There will be some articles and books that cause you to wonder whether the author is even regenerate. This is the price of learning at this level. Yet it will ultimately be helpful as you grow in your capacity to spot error. Someday you may need to be protecting your sheep from that same error, whether you are a pastor, Sunday School teacher, small group leader, or simply an older believer mentoring a younger one.

At BFC I have to edit our children’s church material, to eliminate the Keswick theology it contains. I am asked to identify books that can—and cannot—be used by our teachers for Sunday School. I am constantly asked by earnest believers about this doctrine, and that radio preacher, and this tract or that book. All pastors, counselors, teachers, mentors, are faced with a constant stream of material, some of which may be toxic to the spiritual health of the people for which they are responsible. It’s exposure to the nasty stuff in a seminary-level theology course that will prepare you to identify and reject unbiblical teaching.

3. We focus so much on "scholarly" writing that it is as if my entire purpose is to be published, when all I want is to know God more and be more equipped to share Him and His word with others.

You may never be a writer; but you will always be a communicator. This is the time for you to learn to write well and communicate precisely and clearly. Don’t short-circuit it. There is a certain rigor attached to seminary-level study. Don’t hate it and don’t fight it lest you be miserable.

And think about this: you have always heard teachers say things like, “I never learn so much as I do when I am preparing to teach others.” This is true. The care, time, energy, and sweat you expend to write well is helping you to formulate, clarify, and understand your own beliefs. It is helping you express those beliefs, which is what you will be doing when you “share Him and His word with others.”

Your wrestling coach would say, “Suck it up and just do it!” but since I’m not a wrestling coach and I’m much kinder and gentler, I won’t say that. Even though it is good advice.

4. Am I misunderstanding the point of what I'm reading/writing in these early courses? Are we laying a foundation to build upon? If so, why isn't the foundation the Word of God and not man's?

Yes, yes, and it is.

At every turn in your required reading you should be evaluating the truth/error of what you are being exposed to. You should be doing what the Hebrew believers in Hebrews 5:11-14 did not do, and they earned a rebuke from the Spirit of God for not doing so. In your studies, you are training your senses to discern good and evil (Hebrews 5:14b).

The foundation you are laying is that of the Word of God only to the extent you are evaluating what you are reading, and are comparing and contrasting it with the Bible, and accepting or rejecting it only as it passes or fails to pass the measure of the canon of Scripture.

When I attended Westminster I had to exercise discernment in every lecture and every reading. Most of the professors were godly Christ-honoring men at whose feet it was a privilege to learn. A few instructors were playing fast and lose with the inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture (some have since been dismissed by WTS). I cannot speak highly enough of the value of both: with the one group I learned more of the Word of God and with the other I learned how to be discerning and gracious in what at times was a somewhat adversarial atmosphere. I learned how subtle error can be. I learned to stick to my guns.

5. Are we laying a foundation to build upon?

Let’s get to the bottom line with a closing comment about the difference between classes from the Bible department and classes from the Theology department. There is a difference.

In your Bible classes you are going to be doing a lot more reading of the Bible itself, and gaining a stronger biblical literacy. Your OT and NT survey classes will be among the most helpful, and will probably really scratch the itch you have for the Word of God.

Your Theology classes—depending on their level—are assuming a basic biblical literacy. They are going to be concerned with how the various statements of Scripture can be combined to result in a comprehensive theological sketch of God, man, sin, salvation, etc. Different theological systems will create somewhat different sketches. Covenant Theology and Dispensational Theology are not going to produce identical pictures, for instance.

You need both Bible and Theology to prepare you to serve others. Do you know where my theology gets the most vigorous workout in ministry? It’s not in the Advanced Theological Training classes I teach. It’s in my biblical counseling work. A very wise pastor once said to me at the beginning of my seminary career, “Chris, if you want to counsel, take theology classes.” It was good advice.

So stay the course. You can do it. It will be worth it. And it will equip you to serve Christ by serving others.

Sanctification, Adoption, and Union with Christ

For one whose eyes have been opened by the Holy Spirit such that he possesses saving faith, at first view the Gospel is not complex. Jesus Christ died and rose again for my sins, that I may be forgiven by God the Father on the basis of Christ's sacrifice for me. An elementary school child can grasp the message. An aging person on their deathbed whose mind is clouded by pain and medications can understand it

On the other hand, the Gospel is a message of such profundity and enormous implications, and yes, complexity, that we can never truly exhaust its depths. Any moderate to advanced level of study in the Bible will confirm this. Theological studies will add their 'Amen.'

Sanctification is that process by which we are delivered from the presence of sin. We who know Christ are 'already' sanctified (1 Corinthians 6:11, note the tense), but we are 'not yet' sanctified (Hebrews 12:14; 1 Thessalonians 4:3-8).

Union with Christ is that reality of having been mystically placed into the Body of Christ by the Holy Spirit. Every time you see the pregnant phrase 'in Christ' or 'in Him' in the Pauline letters, you are brushing up against the doctrine of union with Christ. More than any other biblical truth, it is this one that provides for both our present, positional, perfected sanctification as well as the power that we need for the day-to-day ongoing practical sanctification. Through union with Christ that which would have been unthinkable (to share in God's glory) becomes a reality (compare Isaiah 42:8 and John 17:22; Romans 8:17; 2 Thess 2:14). There is a very real sense in which union with Christ has always been the ultimate aim of redemption, in the service of God's glory (see John 17).

Adoption is that doctrine which explains our new position in the household of God. We are sons, and because sons, heirs with Christ. By adoption, God is truly our Father, and by the influence of the Holy Spirit we can cry, 'Abba, Father!' (Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:6). Adoption is also seen as the ultimate aim of redemption.

All three of these realities occur at the instant of salvation. Sanctification is both instantaneous (in its positional aspect) and an ongoing process (in its practical outworking). Union with Christ and adoption are both eternally complete in the initial instant of salvation. Some theologians will try to establish a logical order for these (as part of the ordo salutis), but the important thing to note is that they are eternally complete and assured for the true believer in Christ.

Whereas we found the Gospel to be simple as new believers, now indeed it seems to us as a precious jewel, with countless facets all reflecting together the glory of the Living God. It is an enormous, life-dominating, soul-stirring, intellect-satisfying, saving reality. And, we see that it is beyond simple comprehension.

Isn't God awesome!!!

Book Review: Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God

Packer, J. I. Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2008 reprint. 

To have published a single literary work that becomes a classic is a notable accomplishment. Publishing two gives the writer a corner on contemporary Christians’ reading lists. James Inverness Packer has accomplished just that. Packer is well-known for his landmark book, Knowing God, which first was published in 1973. This is not a review of that book, but if you have not read it you should. Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God (first published, 1961) is the other classic Packer has written, and it punches far above its weight (my copy is a 2008 reprint edition—it’s only 134 pages) in the world of biblically faithful Christian classics. 

The first chapter, Divine Sovereignty, makes the case that all believers adhere to a confidence in God’s absolute sovereignty. Packer calls the average Christian’s prayer life to the witness stand, and the testimony is irrefutable. If you are inclined to question this last sentence, just read the chapter and form your own opinion: it’s only seven pages long.

Next, in Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility, Packer shows that these two poles of activity (divine and human) comprise not a paradox, but an antinomy: the assertion of two statements which seem to be contradictory, but both of which are logically necessary: “An antinomy exists when a pair of principles stand side by side, seemingly irreconcilable, yet both undeniable” [26]. Packer goes on to show, with plenty of examples, that both divine sovereignty and human responsibility are taught in Scripture. His advice regarding how to handle the conflict between the two is wise:

What should one do, then, with an antinomy? Accept it for what it is, and learn to live with it. Refuse to regard the apparent inconsistency as real; put down the semblance of contradiction to the deficiency of your own understanding; think of the two principles not as rival alternatives but, in some way that at present you do not grasp, complementary to each other. Be careful, therefore, not to set them at loggerheads, nor to make deductions from either that would cut across the other (such deductions would, for that very reason, be certainly unsound) [28-29].

In his chapter entitled, Evangelism, Packer answers four questions in the light of the foregoing. “What is evangelism? What is the evangelistic message? What is the motive for evangelizing? By what means and methods should evangelism be practiced” [45]? The bulk of the book is found in this chapter, and it is excellent. Packer fully delivers on the promise to deal with the questions, and in doing so he faithfully and powerfully represents the biblical gospel.

The final chapter, Divine Sovereignty and Evangelism, demonstrates that, far from being a damper on our evangelism, a good understanding of God’s sovereign role stokes the flames of our passion to tell the message. God’s sovereignty is, in fact, a guarantee of our success in evangelism.

Without being disrespectful or polemical, Packer has dismantled the typical Arminian concerns regarding the doctrines of grace, as regards evangelism. This book is not a “gotcha!” to be used to win a debate; rather, it is a powerful, positive, pastoral accounting of what must remain a divine mystery: God’s absolute sovereignty, and our undeniable responsibility to evangelize.

Why study theology?

There is an important lesson waiting for us in Scripture, and it has to do with knowing God. The lesson is this: the true knowledge of God, when wholeheartedly embraced, is in itself sufficient to enable us to meet life's suffering and disappointments.

            We humans get this backwards. In our minds, what is necessary to meet the need of human suffering is human comfort. It certainly is important to care and express human sympathy, support, and compassion. And it is quite right and loving to do so. To do otherwise certainly would not express the love and kindness of God.

            But the Book of Job has something to contribute to this discussion of the sufficiency of the knowledge of God. Job suffered as few have. He lost his children, his wealth, and his health, all in a single day. His wife's helpful advice was, "Curse God and die!" (Job 2:9).

            Job had three outstanding friends who sought to comfort him, investing a huge amount of time with him, grieving silently with him for seven straight days and nights. Then they sought to help him by bringing some perspective to his suffering. It is easy to blame Job's friends, but you must admit that they had earned a hearing by their obvious care for him. But their attempts at comfort fell short. They blamed Job for sin he had not committed, and Job retreated into self-righteousness, ultimately intimating that God was unfair.

            But it was God who brought resolution and comfort to the situation. God sent a young man by the name of Elihu to set the stage by defending God's sovereign righteousness. God Himself then finally appeared and spoke to Job. What God said to Job is jarring to our perception of how a suffering person should be comforted. God essentially said, "Job! Look at me! Are you as great as I am? Can you do what I can do?"

            When God was finished, Job repented of his self-righteousness and became satisfied in his God. Did you get that? Job was comforted when he gazed on the greatness of his God!

            Think of the Letters to the Seven Churches in Revelation chapters two and three. Each of the churches was suffering some form of persecution. They each were facing certain dangers. But God opens each letter by describing Himself, and closes each by giving them a promise.

            What I am saying is this: we are so designed, so created, so wrought, that we find our greatest comfort, satisfaction and delight in knowing truly our God. At the end of the day, your proper knowledge of theology is comforting and sustaining. The Catholic Church has a name for this: they call it the Beatific Vision. The Beatific Vision is said to be the eternal and direct perception of God enjoyed by those who are in Heaven, imparting supreme happiness or blessedness [wikipedia]. What I am telling you is that we have the beatific vision now, in a sense, as we see our God through His Son and His Word. And it does indeed impart supreme happiness and blessedness as we glorify Him by knowing Him properly. Is there a better reason to study theology?

[This post comes from my introduction to Session 7 of our Advanced Theological Training course at BFC.]