BibleDriven

“A manner worthy of the calling …”

“I call you my brothers, and count it my privilege and joy to serve with you. And to you and this common cause in which we stand I give my life. I will go anywhere with you, and face anything, to the end of finishing the mission we’ve been given—faithfully, fully, courageously, and honorably, so help me God.”

As I listened to these words—from my Platoon Sergeant to her soldiers—I longed for them to be the words and the heart found in our churches. Alas, that it’s so rare.

Let’s commit ourselves altogether again to “walk in a manner worthy of [fitting, proper, of comparable value to] the calling” to which we’ve been called (Ephesians 4.1).

“The culmination of all things is near. So be self-controlled and sober-minded for the sake of prayer.

Above all keep your love for one another fervent, because

love covers a multitude of sins.

Show hospitality to one another without complaining. Just as each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of the varied grace of God. Whoever speaks, let it be with God’s words. Whoever serves, do so with the strength that God supplies, so that in everything God will be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen” (1 Peter 4.7-11, NET).

Bumper sticker

I was just on the way from the church over to my little “reserved” table at Starbucks for an afternoon of java and jotting some notes on the history of Christian thought when I noticed, on the car in front of me, this remarkable “thought”—Jesus is coming … look busy!

Aaauuugghhhhhh!! Now, if I’m not completely mistaken, that’s a quote from George Carlin—not really the best source of theological reflection, you know.

And I don’t know if the little lady driving this car was a Carlin fan (if so, I would never have guessed it), or whether perhaps she thought that this “thought” had some merit, but its message is fundamentally unbiblical and the attitude behind it dismissive and dangerous.

Here’s what I mean. Jesus is coming … that’s absolutely true. God “has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness” by this man whom he’s appointed, and of this he has “provided proof to everyone by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17.31). The appeal that flows from that truth, though, is not “Look busy!” but “Repent!” The Judge of all the earth will not be fooled by “looks.” Oh no! “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ …” (2 Corinthians 5.10), and the word Paul uses there for “appear” is actually passive voice, and means “be made known, be revealed, be brought to light, be seen through,” i.e. for who we really are.

“Looking busy” when Jesus comes won’t make any difference. What’s the hope of the hypocrite—the one who pretends to be other than what he or she is— when Jesus comes? None!

Jesus is coming! Repent! Be faithful unto death! Hold fast to our confession and to the hope set before us! Don’ t grow weary in doing good!

“We must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for us, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12.1-2).

But what we must not do is just try to “look busy”!

Life-shapers

Biographies—good biographies (or perhaps I should say biographies of good people)—are always heartening, motivating, and edifying. I’ve recently been reading (slowly, for effect) Alan Jacobs’s good work entitled The Narnian: The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis. It’s one of those books … a page or two (sometimes a paragraph or two) and then lots to think about.

This morning I read where Owen Barfield was introduced into Jack Lewis’s life. World War I had just ended and both were back at Oxford, where they met through a common friend (Leo Baker), when each was about twenty-one years old. Owen Barfield “would become one of the most important people in Jack’s life” (90). In fact, Jacobs concludes, “it is Barfield, and Barfield alone, without whom we could not imagine C. S. Lewis as we now know him” (91).

That set me to thinking. We’ve all known some one or two or so folks like this in our own lives—life-shapers for good! I c an think of, oh, m

aybe a handful of friends, some formal and some informal teachers, who have had a life-shaping impact on me for good. My shortcomings and failures are no reflection on them, but much of what is good in my life has some direct connections to their having been in my life. Friends like these are great mercies of God.

Think a little today of those who’ve had such an impact in your own life, and thank the Father of every good and perfect gift for their faithful and fruitful friendship.

New Testament Manuscripts

For those of you interested in matters related to ancient manuscripts of the New Testament (including digital photos of many manuscripts), check out The Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts. I have the privilege right now of helping the Center to index a number of manuscripts that have recently been photographed (which is sharpening my Greek some but also straining my little eyes). This project as a whole should prove a tremendous boost to New Testament manuscript study around the world.

Kudos to Dr.

Daniel Wallace, et al.

for undertaking this important work.

Great question from D. A. Carson

Carson began the devotional with this true observation: “When people know little about the God who has actually disclosed himself, it is terribly easy for them to sink into some perverted view of this God, until the image held of him has very little to do with the reality.”

He concluded with this troubling illustration: “Yesterday I received in the mail a letter from one of America’s premier television preachers, inviting me to send money and offering me in return a Christmas tree ornament of an ‘angel’ with a trumpet, to remind me that God had commanded the angel looking after

me to blow a trumpet

to celebrate me.

What kind of pared-down and domesticated image of God do such leaders hold that they should utter such nonsense?” (D. A. Carson, from the August 14 Devotional, For the Love of God)

Indeed!

Finally … some vindication

Please read the article entitled “The day the circus came to church” written by Pastor Don Hattaway (Tabernacle Baptist Church, Cartersville) and appearing in The Christian Index (July 30, 2009). In case there’s not a copy of The Christian Index at hand, the article can be read online HERE. More and more voices are beginning to cry in this ecclesiastical wilderness,

and my hope is that the Lord is about to do great and mighty things for his church in our place and time.

“Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts …” (Hebrews 3:15; 4:7).

One Name Comes to Mind …

Back on Christmas Eve, I stopped at one of the local coffee shops (imagine that) for a good cup o’ joe and to read a while.

When I went in I was greeted by a young man I had met there before … and he looked serious, intent, concerned. He leaned over and said, “We still need to believe.” And I said, “Yes we do!” He then told me that he’d been thinking that morning about the state of things—the world, our nation, the economy, people’s lives—and he was burdened about it all and about the fact that so much skepticism and pessimism and fear of the future and all that kind of stuff was what occupied people’ s mind’s every day.

So, he said, he wanted to make a difference, to change the way people think about life, to help them through trouble and trial and sorrow. And to that end, he’d sat down that very morning and written a reflection, an exhortation, on “Why We Should Still Believe.”

He gave me a copy.

Then he gave me a lot of copies and asked me to give them to folks at church if we had a Christmas Eve service. I took them and told him I’d give it a look. He went on about his “work” and I grabbed my coffee and sat down in the corner at a table, and started to read:

“The world today has become complicated and full of negativity,” he wrote. “You look at the headlines on the newspapers and the front page is consumed with financial scandal and war.” I couldn’t argue there. Then he wrote, “Realizing this I start to think about what is missing, what is strong enough for us to go back to a time of simple innocence.” I was hopeful. He went on, “As my mind races looking for an answer, one name comes to mind, Santa Claus.” I nearly fell out of my chair. His conclusion? “The world today needs Santa Claus more than ever … On this Christmas I have one wish, that we all start to believe in Santa Claus again.”

And in that instant, my heart was broken, not just for him but for a whole culture and a world so desperately empty, rudderless and adrift that people look for hope and help in a fable they know to be false, grabbing for anything they think will help keep their heads above water, longing for some lost innocence, some moment of inspiration, some little anticipation for a better world. I looked around for him, but he was gone. I wanted to say, “Yes, we do still need to believe, and there is a Name that comes to mind, but it’s not Santa Claus. It’s the Lord Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, God the Son born under the Law to redeem us from the Law, Redeemer, Mediator, the One that Christmas celebration is all about, the only One who has done something about all that’s wrong in our world, who is taking all who believe in him not back to innocence but on to holiness and glory, who has promised not just a better world, but a new heaven and earth! In him we have life, in him we have hope, in him we find joy, in him we’re given peace that passes understanding and hope here and hereafter.”

And that’s no fable!

The Communion of Saints

My wife, Allyson, and I had the opportunity to be in Louisville this weekend (13-14 DEC 2008) for the wedding of a very good friend. And on Sunday, there was occasion to attend worship services in two very different churches.

The first was a non-traditional community church—laid back sort of dress, a rockin’ band, a largely young-in-age congregation, meeting in a very nicely renovated school building.

The second was a very traditional Baptist church—casual business sort of dress, a pianist and choir with director, an older-in-age congregation, meeting in an older and stately church building. The music in the first was contemporary (maybe even cutting-edge); in the second it was conventional and time-honored hymns. In the first we sang from words displayed on a number of plasma screens mounted from the ceiling around the room; in the second we sang from hymnbooks and lyrics printed in a program. In the first we sat in cushioned chairs; in the second on standard pews.

On the surface, things couldn’t have been more different.… but both were the communion of saints!

In both, our songs praised the Lord who saved us.

In both, the Word of God was read, and heard, and proclaimed with power and proportion, but without apology. In both, Christ was exalted as Savior and Lord, Redeemer and King, God and man, the Word made flesh. In both, there was fellowship and prayer. And in both, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper in unity, remembering his first coming and anticipating his second coming. Together, though in very different ways methodologically, we were part of something much larger—the communion of saints—and the glory is the Lord’s!

Prince of Glory, gracing heav’n e’er time began,
Now for us embracing death as Son of Man.
By your birth so lowly, by your love so true,
By your cross most holy, Lord, we worship you!

We’re all Christians, but …

“All my family are Christians …” That’s how the woman with whom I was having an intriguing chat at the coffee shop began her next story. She’s a spry and inquisitive lady of nearly 70 years, well-read

and well-traveled, and an absolutely delightful conversationalist. We’d talked about seeing the country by train, about her late husband and friends she’ d known in other places. She’d told me of times spent in London and Scotland, of an opportunity missed to visit Japan, and of a Lutheran pastor she had once that, for just a moment, I reminded her of.

Then she leaned forward and began, “All my family are Christians …,” and I wondered what would follow. Her next words gave me pause: “… but we’ve all taken so many different routes.”

“Do you mean different routes to becoming Christians?” I thought.

But before I could ask, she made clear that she meant that they each had such different ways of “being” Christians. One, she said, was a “religious fanatic,” another a good and kind person, but who “never went to church,” yet another had decided that her Christianity and heavy drinking were quite compatible. She herself, she noted, was “spiritual” and a “Christian” but not much of a church-goer, and really quite comfortable with people believing whatever they liked as long as they didn’t judge her.

And it hit me hard. There, right in front of me in the person of this charming and entertaining and interesting older lady, sat the embodiment of much American religion — moralistic, therapeutic, deistic, consumerist, individualist, neo-gnostic, postmodern, pluralistic, and completely self-assured and self-satisfied. This is all that many folks — even many church members — have. It is their own little religion, their own unique route and journey, for sure, and they really like it. But it is not biblical nor h

istoric Christianity, nor is it good news in the end.

These are strange days. Therefore, “… be alert, with all perseverance and requests for all the saints.

Pray for me also, that I may be given the message when I begin to speak—that I may confidently make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may be able to speak boldly as I ought to speak” (Ephesians 6:18-20, NET).

Pastoral ministry is hard …

Harder than most people know. Much harder than I ever suspected, I think.

Oh, it’s not the study that’s difficult. It can be demanding, yes, but it’s also very rich and rewarding — intellectually stimulating and spiritually satisfying. And it’s not the teaching and preaching that take a toll at last. Any pastor worth his salt loves to teach his people and loves to preach God’s Word. It’s not the long hours that are exhausting, or the many things that have to be done — meetings attended, visits made, calls returned, emails answered, folks counseled, problems solved, friends walked with, and so on. None of that is what makes ministry hard, at last.

No, what makes it hard are the responses to the work, which (with seemingly few exceptions) are generally things like indifference, boredom, persistent disapproval, criticism, disrespect, insult.

Some of the latest figures I can find indicate that 80% of pastors (and 84% of pastors’ spouses) live in a relentless state of discouragement. There was a time in our country, not too long ago, when the pastoral profession was held in some esteem, both in the church and in the community. Now pastors are among the least honorable, and 70% or more of pastors surveyed say that pastoral ministry has depleted their sense of self-worth and confidence. Fifty percent of pastors say they would leave the ministry tomorrow, if they could, but they have no other way to make a living. The majority of pastors’ wives surveyed said the most destructive event that has occurred in their marriage and family was the day they entered the ministry!

I wonder what the symptoms of burn-out are. Some days I just weep, and I don’t know why. Sometimes I fantasize about running away, and I wonder if it would even matter. I feel exhausted. I never sleep too well. My blood pressure is elevated. And I just may be self-medicating on caffeine!

Pray for my family, and for me. Pastoral ministry is hard!