Knight of the Living God

Words are Not Morally Neutral

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 22:24:00 +0000

“To believe that all swearing is wrong, you also have to believe that our culture is right. Social customs define what’s taboo. Therefore, saying taboo language is uniformly sinful implies that our social customs uniformly align with God’s will.”

In other words, as some of my friends tweeted: “To believe all swearing is sin, you have to be OK with culture being the arbiter of right & wrong.”

My response?

No you don't.

First of all, contemporary culture is perfectly fine with swearing. Since when does culture denounce swearing (or anything for that matter) as right or wrong? Modern Christianity and some more conservative circles may put restrictions on swearing, but culture doesn't. Watch television, celebrities, politicians, and people in everyday conversation. They swear a lot. In our culture, swearing is far from taboo.

Secondly, as representatives of Christ on earth, we want to speak in a way that is loving and respectful, not filthy. Culture doesn't pronounce that certain words are wrong; culture associates certain words with concepts that, when normally used, mean either sexually descriptive or hatefully slanderous things. The words have been given negative connotations; they are the verbal equivalent of a tight tank top and low riding jeans on an immodestly dressed girl. Immodest clothing may cause your brethren to stumble. So may immodest words cause your brethren to become confused and return to hateful or wrongheaded thoughts.

Scripture says that your words always proceed from your heart, thus the words that a Christian uses in speech give the world a picture of what that Christian thinks in his heart. Will you represent your heart with wisely chosen words or words that culture has associated with banality, filthiness, hate, and / or lust?

We are mistaken if we think that words are morally neutral and that they do not have connotations or associations that are harmful and ungodly. I doubt that any Christian would walk into a public place and proclaim proudly that he is a pedophile. The Greek roots of the word give it the meaning “friend of children.” The modern association of the word gives it a new meaning: “perverted sex predator.” A guy using the word might intend it the first way, but he’s a fool to think that anyone else but himself will interpret it that way. Try explaining that one in court.

To just say that accepting word associations means that culture is dictating morality is over-simplification: culture, civilizations, and society always give meanings to all words. That’s how we communicate. Communication is a central part of civilization. This is basic stuff. The English language wasn’t spoken down to us from heaven, it was developed through centuries by the communications of sinful people. Thus, certain words are used for good things, and certain words are used for sinful things.

Racist words, for example, are wrong not because the culture says so, but because they have become associated with hatred of certain people groups. Sexually explicit terms are not only used in hateful ways but are also part of the lingo used by the modern porn industry to promote their products. These words are “taboo” (and I use that term loosely) not because the culture simply doesn’t like them, but because the words are associated with hurtful, greedy, selfish, and sinful things.

Supposedly Paul used an equivalent of the s-word once somewhere in Scripture. Once. Elsewhere, on numerous occasions, the Bible denounces the use of filthy, vile, and hateful speech: Psalm 10:7, 37:30; Proverbs 10:31-32, 15:4; Matthew 15:10, 18-20; James 3:10-13. The Bible warns Christians to be gentle in speech, to rule their tongues with wisdom, and that every spoken word comes from the heart.

Will you base your understanding of the proper use of the tongue on one single Greek word used by Paul, that may or may not mean something more than “waste,” or will you base it on Scripture’s teaching as a whole? The s-word has connotations in our day of demeaning, hateful speech, and is almost always used in a negative way. To say that the word Paul used in a different language and a different culture and a different society is the exact equivalent of the s-word seems more like wishful thinking than an honest reading of Scripture.

When we go before a crowd of people to speak, especially if the crowd is full of dignified persons like professors, scholars, politicians, pastors, and such, we dress nicely and formally so that we may make a good impression. We do not wear tank tops and jerseys, sweat pants or low-riders. At least, we shouldn't. Not because society is the arbiter of right and wrong, but because we, as Christians, are walking representations of the Gospel to the world around us, and we want to present the Gospel in a way that is wise, dignified, pure, holy, and thoroughly wholesome and good. Let the Gospel and the words of the Bible offend the world, rather than using the crude, rude, and dirty words of the world to offend Christ and your Mother, the Church.

Edit: I would like to clarify that I love and respect Abraham Piper and my friends, and that I only wish to critique the argument as it stands, rather than those who made the argument and who are in many ways wiser than I am.

A Theology Poorly Lived

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 04:18:00 +0000

In Reformed circles especially, theology can become sport of sorts. The mind gets its workout through reading the heavy-weights like Calvin, Van Til, and others. Then the Christian goes out and flexes his intellectual muscles with offhand theological comments, or critiques of the latest sermon, or diatribes on what is wrong with the Church today. This gives the Christian a popularity boost amongst those who don’t know as much theology. “What a godly man,” these people think. Indeed, the Christian begins to think this himself.

The Christian soon finds that theological debate is particularly exciting. He builds up his arsenal of Bible verses and keeps them in his mind like well-practiced fencing moves, always available for use in a witty riposte. Arminianism seems all too easy for the new Calvinist to debunk, and with the proper Bible bullets in hand he can confuse and obliterate his theological opponent and look good at the same time. The opponent is not a brother in Christ; he is a rival.

And when something tragic befalls the community, the armchair theologian is there to eloquently remind people of the providence of God and of how these sort of things were predestined to occur. “God uses evil sometimes to bring about good,” he might say, and then proceed to reassure everyone that this is part of God’s plan.

The theologian’s theology may very well be correct. The problems that he calls “heresies” may very well be heresies. The truths that he proclaims may indeed be insightful; he indeed may be a theological genius. The problem with the picture I have painted above is not in the theology per se; it is in the theologian.

What occurs in this situation is a frightening, subtle pride. The theologian understands the Gospel, theology, and even the nature of sin very well. He has all the facts down and all the theological terms memorized. He seems holy and pure in his worldview and in his everyday speech. Indeed, how could we think that this man is not a Christian? Surely such a thought is absurd! Surely this man is a part of Christ’s kingdom!

Herein lies the problem: all men have knowledge of God. Everybody. Is this not what Romans 1 teaches us? Has God not revealed Himself through creation? By sin, in his total depravity, man has suppressed this knowledge. He knows that God exists and he hates that reality, so he lives as if God does not exist. He reasons God away, philosophizing until he thinks his beliefs are valid. This is all a subconscious part of the fallen human nature; deep down in his soul, man knows that God is there, but his mind and his deeds are working hard to keep that knowledge down in the depths.

For certain men, the problem is harder to see. They know theology well and they even admit that God exists. And yet, this knowledge is in some sense suppressed. Impossible, you say? They are so enlightened, you say, that their minds cannot be darkened?

Cornelius Van Til notes that theology and love are not separable. The unbeliever may spout forth theological truths; but these spoutings may originate in a soul that is suppressing the truth. Hear Van Til on this:

"It will not do to separate the logical powers of man from his moral powers and say that though man is morally unwilling to serve God, he can intellectually know God aright. It is true, of course, that when Cain left the face of the Lord, he in a sense knew God just as well as he knew him just before.

It is true also that there is a sense in which Satan knows God now as well as he knew God before he fell. In a sense, Satan knows God better now than before. Did not God prove the truth of his statements to Satan thousands of times? But herein exactly lies the contradiction of Satan’s personality: that though he knows God, he yet does not really know God. His very intellect is constantly devising schemes by which he thinks that he may overthrow God, while he knows all too well that God cannot be overthrown.

What else can this be but a manifestation of the wrath of God? Yes, it was the natural consequence of sin, but this is itself the wrath of God, that sin should be allowed to run its course.”

(Quote from An Introduction to Systematic Theology by Cornelius Van Til. 2nd ed. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2007. Page 164)

Satan is at once both one of the greatest intellects in God’s creation, and at the same time an incredible fool. The fool, after all, has said in his heart that there is no God. The fool lives as though God can be overthrown, as though God does not exist. The Pharisees were theologians who intensely studied Scripture and committed it to memory, who discussed the finer points of theology and carefully observed God’s law, but in the end they were criticized for their pride and they did not recognize their own God when He spoke to them face-to-face.

True, unsuppressed theology is driven by love. The Christian life must be driven by love. Jesus Christ’s first response to tragedy was not to wax eloquently about the sovereignty of God and about predestination. Jesus Christ’s response to the pain and sorrow at Lazarus’ passing is to weep. Jesus wept. He knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the grave in the next few moments, and yet he wept. He reassured Mary and Martha concerning the bodily resurrection, but he also wept. He was moved. He shared our sorrow at the horror of death and the effects of sin upon the world. Jesus wept. How many of us do not follow His example, and proclaim the theology without the weeping, and without the compassion?

Previously, I typed up a brief biography of Abraham Kuyper and titled it “A Theology Well Lived.” I noted that Abraham Kuyper was fondly remembered as a loving, compassionate man. Herein is the point: when you meet up with the Arminian, or the Roman Catholic, your fellow brothers in Christ who greatly disagree with you on matters of theology that are admittedly of great import, is your first reaction to pull out your theological warguns and start blowing things up? Or do you feel genuine compassion and love for your brothers and sisters in Christ, who have been baptized with the same baptism by which you were baptized?

I tremble to think about all the times I have expounded on theology haughtily, or reveled in a theological tome and then treated a fellow brother or sister with disdain. There are many people in the church who are different from me; many people who even get under my skin. When I meet them in the hallway or the grocery store, shall I think “This person is so wrong in their Christianity!” and smugly rest assured in my own theology? Or shall I press myself with the biting question: “Would I die for this person?” If the answer is “yes,” then I love them, despite the theological differences.

I tremble to think of how I have often lived life sinfully, in rebellion; living as if God did not exist. My theology was in my mind, but not in my spirit. I understood theology, but I did not love it. It is good and right to be excited about theology and about God’s word, but that sort of excitement must come from a love for God, and not a love for self.

Let us think about these things and be humbled by them. It is all too easy to sit down at one’s blog, post something intensely theological, get some comments and site hits, and feel good about ourselves as if we have accomplished something worthy of praise. A blog itself is a risky thing: it can express theological knowledge, but can it express love? My fellow Christians, your theology is dangerous. True, Reformed theology is dangerous. It you are unfaithful, it will condemn you.

Let us think about these things and be humbled by them, and tremble at the thought that there will be many who do great things in Jesus’ name, but to whom Jesus will say “I never knew you.” Why? Because they did not clothe the poor, or show kindness to the widows and orphans. They did not practice love.

They knew their theology, but they did not know it. They did not live it.

I'll Stick With Van Helsing

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 07:20:00 +0000

The Vampire is a literary symbol, in many ways, for the anti-christ. Whereas Christ gave life through the giving of His blood, thus changing those that He saves into living children of God; the vampire takes life through the taking of blood and transforms those he bites into walking undead. The only objects that can harm a vampire illustrate this point as well: the stake, not unlike the nails that pierced Christ; the crucifix, the very symbol of the Gospel and Christ’s victory; the sunlight, the symbol of God’s grace and powerful holiness; the sacred holy water, used for the baptism of God’s people; all these things mean death for the vampire. The vampire is in many ways Satan himself, the archenemy of Christ and the Church.

Abraham Van Helsing, who defeats the demonic vampire Dracula, is amongst other things a professor of theology (and a Dutch theologian at that!). He alone, and not the doctors who study bacteria under microscopes, understands the threat of an affliction that is not physical but supernatural. Whereas the vampire Dracula is sexually promiscuous and lust-driven, Van Helsing is the model of marital fidelity. Even after his wife has become insane, Van Helsing refuses to divorce her, remaining faithful to a wife who, in the eyes of the world, is as good as a dead woman.

Our society has a morbid fascination with vampires and other images of the occult. All too many books and movies portray vampires, dragons, and witches as good characters who are simply misunderstood. This is partly due to readers today having no comprehension skills. Having not read widely and deeply in good quality literature, these readers soak up skewed symbols and think “oh, how romantic.” A knight saving a maiden from a dragon, as Christ saves the Church from Satan, is romantic. A schoolgirl falling in love with a vampire who sneaks into her room and watches her sleep is not.

In the old days, people read books and were discerning enough to understand what these symbols meant and what the author was driving at. Books were not fluff either; any idiot can write a book these days, but back then books had substance and meaning. No one wants to think while reading a book. They’d rather have thoughts stuffed into their heads.

As for me, I’ll stick with Dr. Van Helsing, The Red Crosse Knight, and Aslan. The rest of the world can keep Eragon, Edward Cullen, and the like.

Saving a Dying Planet

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 20:43:00 +0000

In many ways, the environmentalist movement often exhibits a sort of human self-loathing. Look at what we are doing to the planet, with all of our emissions and SUVs and landfills. Just think of the world we will be leaving to our children! Won’t anyone please think of the children?

Christians get caught up in this craze as well. They emphasize stewardship heavily; we are to be good caretakers of the earth. In some sense this is a healthy view to have. We should be good stewards of our houses, our money, our country, our health, etc. Few of the things that I have listed, however, receive the amount of “stewardship” attention from Christians that the planet earth receives. There is a green letter Bible for environmentalists; I’ve yet to see the American Flag Bible with red-white-and-blue lettering.

This is possibly because this movement of environmentalism is so guilt-laden because of “global warming.” Christians feel like they have failed; they need to preserve the earth as best they know how. And yet, their attempts are, for the most part, futile and pointless.

The earth will be regenerated. It will be resurrected, in a figurative sense. It will be a new earth, the book of Revelation tells us. The problem in the thinking of many Christians on this subject is that there is some subtle, subconscious assumption that the problems with the environment will either bring about Armageddon or will become too severe for God to fix. We like to wallow in our own sin-guilt and fancy that God will not forgive us, despite His promises, so likewise we like to think that the earth will become dangerously beyond repair. Self-loathing.

I'm not arguing for antinomianism in this area, but I am arguing against a sort of works-righteousness. What this loathing leads to is a sort of environmental legalism. The earth will be saved by works, the environmentalist Christian thinks, and man must save the earth. What the Christian fails to recognize is that the earth has already been saved. Sure, the fullness of that salvation is not yet apparent or present, but nonetheless the earth has been saved. Creation is going to be remade. The remaking has already begun – the Church is the firstfruit of this new creation.

Christians like to cling to the old things, especially the treasures of this world. In this case, the old treasure is this world. Yet our real treasure is the new world, where the kingdom of God will reign. There is the rub: stewardship of what has been given is a good thing; obsession is not. We are not to treat what we are given lightly, but we are also not to cling to and fawn over it fanatically. Somewhere in between is the Golden Mean.

Taste and See that the Lord is Good

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 15:34:00 +0000

In my last post I pointed to Gnostic tendencies in evangelicalism. No denomination in particular has wholly escaped these tendencies; Gnosticism is dangerous because it appears wholesome and holy, but in reality it undervalues creation as God created it.

The same sorts of Gnostic tendencies can influence our view of the Lord’s Supper. We may undervalue the Eucharist as something merely done in remembrance, or as a simple sign only. In reality, however, partaking of the Eucharist is partaking of the new creation. In an already, not yet sense the Eucharist is the final Wedding Feast, it is the celebration of the new creation and all of its splendor. It is the King’s table, amid the people of a kingdom that has already come, but is not yet fully present.

Sursum Corda: lift up your hearts. Know that when you dine with the saints you also, in a mysterious way, dine with Christ and feast yourself apon Him. The great spiritual feast is given physical meaning through this sacrament. The Eucharist destroys Gnosticism, for when we feast on the thanksgiving bread and wine we truly get to taste and see that the Lord is good.

I'm Not Going to Heaven

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 23:39:00 +0000

Many Christian hymns portray the Christian’s eternal destination in wrong and (dare I say) Gnostic terms. Consider:

“I’ll fly away, O glory! I’ll fly away…”

“In mansions of glory and endless delight, I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright…”

“Oh, home of my soul, In that far away goal…”

And yet, in reality, I am not going to fly away when I die, nor shall I appear in some ethereal, mystical place up in the fluffy clouds.

Let me clarify: I believe that Jesus took the penalty for my sins, and thus has saved me from hell and damnation. When I say that I’m not going to heaven, I don’t mean I’m going to the lake of fire – I mean what the Bible teaches, that I am part of a new creation.

Allow me to give you a brief Biblical Theology of the New Creation. This is a lot to handle in one blog post, so get out your Bibles and fasten your seatbelts.

In Genesis 1, when the world is created, we are told that God created the heavens and the earth. Two distinct realms are brought into existence: heaven is the realm of the angelic beings, while earth is the dwelling place of humanity. Because of the Fall, the earth is cursed, the created order is disrupted, death enters the cosmos, and creation groans in agony (Genesis 3; Romans 8:21-22). The universe was originally pronounced to be good (Genesis 1:31) but now it is slowly dying.

However, Christ has come to redeem the world. He did not merely come to save the Church but to save the entire cosmos. This is why the people of God are described as the firstfruits of a “new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Gnosticism, as those who have read their church history know, downplays the physical aspects of human nature and elevates to importance the spiritual aspects, creating a dangerous dualism. Christians are not ghostly specters longing to be angels; Christians are physical beings having eternal souls in physical bodies. These physical bodies will be resurrected in the last day, not because the body is unimportant, but because it is extremely important and is part of how God created us (Daniel 12:2; 1 Corinthians 15:12-26, 50-57). The flesh has been corrupted by the Fall, but shall be raised incorruptible. Our souls have already been regenerated through the Holy Spirit, but our bodies will not remain unregenerate.

Dispensationalists, because of their eschatology, believe there is a special inheritance for the people of Israel and that the Abrahamic promises will be fulfilled because Israel will rule Canaan in the end times. What they miss is that the Abrahamic promises are far grander than that: the people of Israel (or the New Israel, the Church) will inherit the entire world, and that world will be a recreated, restored, perfect world. Abraham himself understood that the promises of God were promises of a new creation – of a resurrected cosmos (Hebrews 11:15-19). Jesus Himself reiterates this promise (Matthew 5:5).

Note in Revelation that, when this promise comes to pass, a new heaven and a new earth are created, and the old heaven and old earth pass away (Revelation 21:1). Earth has been made anew, and so has heaven, which had its own corrupting Fall (Revelation 12:3-4, 7-9). Heaven has been created anew for the angels, and earth for humanity. But that is not all, they are no longer separated – heaven is united with earth. This is the kingdom of God, the kingdom of heaven ( Matthew 19:28-30; 24:30-31; 25:31-40; Mark 1:14-15; Revelation 21:2-7).

Christ Himself ascended into heaven with a redeemed body. He will return in the flesh as well. In fact, right now Christ’s heart is pumping blood as he sits at the right hand of the Father. This is the beauty of the Incarnation. Christ did not dissipate into the ether upon reentry into heaven, rather he remained in the flesh that he might be our great High Priest.

You are, in Christ, the firstfruits of a new creation. The old is passing away, behold, the new is coming. I am not floating off to heaven; heaven is coming to me. God will dwell with us and we shall inherit the earth. This is the mind-boggling, enormous promise in Scripture. In an Already / Not Yet sense, the new creation is already here. So how then shall you live, as part of this new creation?

More can, and will, be said on this subject.

The Victorious Feast

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 15:49:00 +0000

In most stories, evil is often defeated by symbolic instruments. A vampire may fear a crucifix; the aliens in the movie Signs are defeated by water; the aliens in the War of the Worlds are defeated by bacteria (and, it is alluded, by God’s providence); Saruman’s fortress at Isengard is drowned in a deluge and Sauron’s Mordor is overcome by fire from heaven. Evil is represented as being defeated by the very representations of divine victory.

In a similar sense, when we come to the Lord’s table, when we feast upon the Eucharist, we proclaim the divine victory right in the face of the forces of evil. The Eucharist is a celebration, a wedding feast, and the wedding feast cannot occur unless the bride has already been rescued from the dragon. We give thanks for the Lord Jesus Christ’s victory, both in the already and in the not yet. In times of great suffering, this meal reminds us that the suffering brought by sin’s curse upon this world will soon pass, and the splendor of a new creation will be upon us.

In the darkest hours, let the church come together for the communion of the saints, and in doing so show that we fear no evil, for God is with us.

Just to Make it Official

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 06:15:00 +0000

This blog is on a posting schedule of "when I can." My attempts will be to do two posts a week, but sometimes I'll have whole weeks where I'm busy and there won't be postings. On other weeks there might be four posts in one week. Its going to be erratic, but life is busy right now and blogging (while I love it) it not really in the top 10 priorities.

Just wanted to let everyone know.

"The Questions Run So Deep, for Such a Simple Man..."

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 05:59:00 +0000

In 1979 the band Supertramp released a song called simply, “The Logical Song.” The song is quirky and dry-humored, as well as catchy. The most interesting thing that the song expresses is a sort of postmodern mindset – a confession of bewilderment and longing. The song opens:

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful
A miracle
Oh it was beautiful, magical

The opening lyrics express a longing for the pristine innocence of childhood. As the song moves on, the lyrics explain how this child was sent away to school to become “logical.” The child is thrown into education to become an intellectual, to learn all that science, logic, history, mathematics, etc. have to offer.

But, as the lyrics express, the learning leaves him empty. He does not feel enlightened. Questions have now been raised in his mind – questions for which he has no answers. When he was a child, he did not care about questions of philosophy, theonomy, ethics, ontology, cosmology, and the rest. He did not even know such questions existed. Now he asks:

Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned
I know it sounds absurd
Please tell me who I am

Before, as a child, he was in an environment of innocence, play, and imagination. Now he lives in the real world – the adult world – and the innocence is gone. All he feels is confusion. He asks “what have we learned?” The implicit answer is… nothing. Despite all the gathered facts, all the data, all the scientific experiments, all the scholarly writings and journal articles, man still cannot even define himself and his place in the universe. Man has still not found his purpose. Whatever that purpose is, it is not kiddie play. And yet, nevertheless, he wants to return to childhood – to simply ignore the problems and the unanswered questions, and to act as if they do not matter. He wants to ignore the logic and the science, and to throw the baby out with the bath water in a desperate attempt to escape reality, acting as if it does not concern him.

This is the postmodern mindset.

What the character in the song does not realize is that there is an answer to who he is – there is a purpose to everything, a universal truth holding together all the seemingly incoherent parts. Learning is not a fruitless endeavor - not if you have a worldview that admits that man shall never have all the answers, but that God is the ultimate answer and the Creator of all truth. Secular, “Enlightened” man has tried lighting up candles one by one in Plato’s proverbial cave in order to discover meaning in the universe, all the while ignoring the sunlight outside. The postmodern man also ignores the sunlight, but he has lost his faith in the candles. He knows that the scientists and logicians do not have enough wax.

In the academic setting that I have come into contact with recently, postmodernism is treated as a big issue. It is popular these days for Christians to discuss how to best answer this problem. If you have postmoderns who won’t even be… well, reasonable, how do you proclaim the faith?

The Gospel, however, is not dependent on our reasonings or our logical defenses. The Gospel is not a contradiction, it is not illogical; but the reason the Word of God is true is simply because God spoke it, not because man thinks he has somehow logically verified it. When we place our epistemological presuppositions in science and logic ultimately, rather than in Scripture and God’s inspired Word, we really become no better than the Enlightenment man. “Well, if we light one more candle, maybe then he’ll see that God’s Word is truth.” You don’t need a candle to see the sun.

Christians who have become dependent on evidential and classical apologetics wring their hands at the “postmodern” problem. Presuppositional apologists, I think, should see this postmodern movement as a grand opportunity. Postmodernists gave up hope, saying that the experts will never learn enough to provide us with the ultimate truth, with the real answer. We simply need to share the Gospel with them, and bring them into an encounter with the living God, the author of all truth, and all true answers. The postmoderns are a step ahead of the moderns – at least they’ve lost their faith a bit in themselves and in their methods. Time for the Gospel and the Spirit of God to shake them further – to the core.

Once they see that God is the author of all truth, perhaps they won’t be as hesitant to be “logical.”

Hurry Up and Wait

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 14:20:00 +0000

I think hardly anyone would argue that “instant gratification” is not a current flowing through this modern culture. Nonetheless, despite the fact that we all recognize the problem, we are all affected subtly by that sort of mindset. It seeps into our worship and our faith... it is in the air we breathe.

Let’s say someone is going through a period of depression and darkness. They just do not feel the presence of God. They feel alone. They also expect that they can make this problem go away instantaneously. I know I’ve been there before, and I’ve done that. Perhaps by singing a particularly emotional praise song, or hanging out with some vivacious fellow believers, they can escape this pit. So they think.

Don’t get me wrong: worship songs and fellowship are supposed to strengthen and encourage the believer, in times of both joy and sorrow. Yet, the strengthening is not instantaneous, and we should not treat these things as “get out of sorrow quick” cards.

Let’s say someone is single, and feels very lonely as he or she watches other happy couples. Desiring intimacy but unsure of where to find it, this person may turn to a bad relationship or to pornography. I believe it is wise to be very careful in whom you “ask out” as a single, and I think many of you would agree. Nonetheless, the urge to get into a relationship with some cute girl who you hardly know, who could or could not be a Christian, is an urge that is palpable.

In short, this sort of impatience, no matter how well-meaning or innocent it may seem, is dangerous. It presents the Christian with at best a false hope, and at worst a dark pit to fall into. King David had a wiser life-system. He said, in Psalm 25:1, 3-5:

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. Indeed, none who wait on you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.”

Psalm 25 is one of spiritual turmoil – David feels guilt because of his sins, and he is “lonely and afflicted.” Despite this, however, he injects the Psalm with a brilliant light of hope, showing his faith in the God who keeps his covenant promises. (vv. 9-14)

David reveals in the Psalm that he does not know what God’s plan is concerning the things that are going on in his life at the time, but he nonetheless trusts God and is willing to wait and see how God’s plan comes about.

David is willing to wait on the Lord.

David knows that God will redeem His people. He knows that God is the deliverer. He knows that God is the comforter. He knows that God will destroy His enemies. Yet, just because God doesn’t do it at the very moment David wants him to do it is not a cause of concern – David knows that God’s plans are better than David’s plans, and that the covenant promises will be fulfilled.

David is not waiting on an emotion. He is not waiting to “feel” that God is with him. He knows by faith that God is with him, even though the enemies pressing around him might mock him and say otherwise. He is willing, despite the shadows over his soul, to wait for God’s glorious redemption. He knows that “Post Tenebras Lux” is true for God’s children.

Note that David’s waiting is not inactive. He is repenting of his sins and asking for forgiveness. He is singing a psalm in worship. He is praying to God in desperate times. Yet, throughout these acts of worship, he displays his willingness to wait on the Lord – to not seek spiritual instant gratification but to wait.

To wait on the Lord and is to love the Lord and His ways more than we love our own satisfaction, need, and greed. The gifts of the Lord are to be waited upon; the promises of the covenant are fulfilled in the timing of God and not of man. Instant gratification may be sweet for the moment, but it fades quickly; the joys of the Lord, though waited for long, are eternal and everlasting.

Christ is coming soon, to rescue His bride. Let us wait on the Lord.

Have any insights on this? Personal experience? Other, related sections in Scripture? Make a comment below.

The Master of Ancient and Modern Myth

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 19:26:00 +0000

J.R.R. Tolkien’s latest posthumous release is “The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun.” The tale doesn’t take place in Middle-Earth, which may disappoint some, but Tolkien never ceases to excel my expectations. Tolkien adapted a classic, old epic into a majestic poem, masterfully using alliteration and imagery to weave together the saga of Sigurd.

Somehow, Tolkien can subtly mix intense emotion and deep, resonating themes. Rarely can so much meaning be found in so few words – I have read some reviews of the release complaining about how short the text is, but those reviews miss the point. Tolkien can speak a thousand words with ten, and that is why no other modern fantasy author copycat can compare to him – they want to write like him, but Tolkien doesn’t just write epic sagas – he breathes them. Even his prose could be poetry... and his poetry is beyond description. Storytelling runs in his veins. His stories aren’t just empty sword-and-sorcery, rather, they are myths for the modern man.

The amount of Biblical imagery presented in “The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun” is staggering as well, especially since Tolkien is noted to have previously claimed to not care for allegory. If you don’t believe me, then take a look at this stanza from the poem:

If in day of Doom
One deathless stands,
Who death hath tasted
And dies no more,
The serpent slayer,
Seed of Odin,
Then all shall not end,
Nor Earth perish.

Though Sigurd’s story is ultimately tragic, nonetheless it is he who, according to prophecy, will return at the end of time at the battle of Ragnarok and defeat the Giant Wyrm. The poem is full of this sort of imagery, which made it all the more meaningful. Just as Christ returns at the end of time to defeat the Dragon, Satan, so also Sigurd returns in this myth (and Turin Turambar, similarly, returns to defeat Morgoth). Of course, these themes were already present in the original Viking saga, but I doubt Tolkien could resist making them a bit more overt and a bit more parallel to the Biblical story.

Some might argue that, with these repeated posthumous releases, Tolkien Estate is trying to make as much money as possible and take advantage of Tolkien’s good name, but I don’t think this is the case. The Foreword and Appendices written by Christopher Tolkien are heartfelt and full of love for his father, and the text itself is so well written that it clearly deserved to be published. In these days when anyone can write a book and slap it together quickly to make some quick cash, “The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun” rises as an instant classic. The shallow-minded may soak up the soft drink that is the "Twilight" series or the "Inheritance Cycle", but Tolkien’s writing, like a fine wine, refreshes those looking for deeper, more meaningful fare.

Highly recommended.

From Castles to Home

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 05:42:00 +0000

I have returned from my vacation to Ireland, and new posts are on the way.

Aragorn Returns

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 05:25:00 +0000

I did not write a post for today. Mostly because I was too busy watching the new Lord of the Rings film. The film is unofficial, so it is free to view on youtube - and it was made by independent filmmakers. The result is pretty - well, cool. Check it out below. It is quite faithful to what I remember from Tolkein's Unfinished Tales.

Click here for The Hunt for Gollum, a Lord of the Rings Prequel.

Quotes from Calvin that the Members of the "New Calvinism" Movement Won't Like

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 14:10:00 +0000

Here comes quote #2 from Calvin's Institutes. Lest readers think I am including these quotes to be spiteful, let me assure them I am not - I deeply respect most of the people involved in the New Calvinism movement.

What I am trying to do, however, is create an awareness of what real Calvinism is actually like - I am giving every one small portions of Calvin so that they will realize that the theology of John Calvin is not limited to five points. Those are only the starting points.

"Our souls are fed by the flesh and blood of Christ in the same way that bread and wine keep and sustain physical life... even though it seems unbelievable that Christ's flesh, separated from us by such great distance, penetrates to us, so that it becomes our food, let us remember how far the secret power of the Holy Spirit towers above all our senses, and how foolish it is to wish to measure his immeasurableness by our measure. What, then, our mind does not comprehend, let faith conceive: that the Spirit truly unites things separated in space.

Now, that partaking of his flesh and blood, by which Christ pours his life into us, as if it penetrated into our bones and marrow, he also testifies and seals in the Supper - not by presenting a vain and empty sign, but by manifesting there the effectiveness of his Spirit to fulfill what he promises. And truly he offers and shows the reality there signified to all who sit at that spiritual banquet, although it is received with benefit by believers alone, who accept such great generosity with true faith and gratefulness of heart." [IV. XVII. 10.]

The Warmth and Comfort of Liturgy

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 19:00:00 +0000

The best works of fiction are the ones you can read over and over again. These aren’t the thrillers or novels that you read once or twice or thrice. These are the books that you read continuously, almost as if it is a ritual.

Take the Lord of the Rings for instance. About every two years, I take the plunge into Middle Earth. That isn’t the only Tolkien work I’ve read multiple times. The Silmarillion, The Children of Hurin, and The Hobbit all get read about every two or three years. I reread the Chronicles of Narnia regularly too.

I’m sure most of you have books that are your particular favorites that get reread. Why? Why not just read these books once and be done with them?

One reason is that they offer a sense of comfort. A good book is like a good friend, as it is said. Every time I read the Chronicles of Narnia, I remember the first time that my father read them aloud, when I was very young. It brings back feelings of nostalgia, good feelings of my childhood, of hearth and home. When I first entered Narnia, I was far too young to understand more than basic themes, and then only subconsciously – but the seeds were planted in my mind, and the imagery penetrated my soul. The imagery of the books became familiar and meaningful.

Understanding this imagery is the second reason: each time I reread the books growing up, I found new imagery and came to understand the symbolism in new ways. Even now, whenever I reread the Chronicles of Narnia, I find something new and meaningful and stirring in the books. The imagery was always there, but I never noticed it before. The books are examples of good writing because they aren’t something that you simply read – rather they grow in you, and you grow through reading them.

I was thinking about this yesterday and it hit me – the same is true about liturgy. The regular practice of confession, the Gloria Patri, the speaking of the Word, the receiving of the sacraments, the order of worship – these are things that I did not understand completely when I was young. As I grew in it and it grew in me, however, it began to hold new meaning. The meaning had always been there, but I had never seen it before.

Those who view liturgical worship as stagnate, repetitive, and boring do not know the beauty of it. If I am a traveler who has been on a long, wearying journey, my refreshment is found upon my return home. For weary pilgrims in this world, the liturgy is just that – a return home and a bit of rest and renewal for the journey ahead.

The world wants constant “newness;” it is not enough to simply write a successful book and stop. An author must write a sequel. Constant novelty is required in our culture. If it isn’t new, it isn’t exciting, and it is a waste of time. This way of thinking, however, throws men into a desert, where they run to brook after brook only to find that all the water has been a mirage, and they have been drinking naught but dust. Ultimately, all the new things are great experiences, but they are gone in an instant, whereas the old, the liturgical, and the repeated work their way into our marrow, and are carried with us for the rest of our lives.

On God and Superman

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 18:34:00 +0000

Who would not like to use the Force to levitate objects, or be able to climb walls like Spiderman, or have superhuman strength and invincibility? Seven superhero films lit up theatre screens in 2008 alone, showing just how popular the genre is becoming. Even outside of the genre, more and more heroes are being portrayed as the cliched “Chosen One” who will save his people, the planet, or whatever from the villains. Apparently it never gets old...

Take the popular “Eragon” books for instance. Christopher Paolini writes about a simple farmboy who finds out that he is gifted in all the ways needed for heroic deeds. Learns swordplay unrealistically fast? Check. Has extraordinary magical powers? Check. Is taught by the last of the Jedi Knights – er – Dragon Riders? Check. Has a magical dragon who chose him because he is just that special? Check. One bestselling fantasy series, coming right up.

Compare that with Spiderman. A nerdy loser who has always been unpopular but is really good at heart suddenly is gifted with extraordinary powers and fights to save New York city from villain after villain. The stories become a bit more nuanced, but the general idea is the same, whether it is Superman, the Hulk, or the Fantastic Four (I consider Batman to be an exception). A human being becomes god-like and saves the world.

Are these stories mirrorings of the Scriptural stories of Christ the Chosen One, the Messiah? I used to think so. Now I contend that these “Chosen Ones” do not really reflect the Chosen One of Scripture at all – rather, they reflect an ideal: a further evolved human, one step closer to being more like God. Think about how many times you have heard this phrase lately in films (or a phrase similar to it): Your destiny is in your hands. Take control of your own destiny.

God is absent from superhero films because he isn’t needed. Humans can get along fine by themselves, all they need is a few more powers. Perhaps further down the evolutionary road, we can get those powers. Man wants to be at the center of the story. Man wants to be the one saving the world from evil. Man is unhappy with the way he was created – wouldn’t things be so much better if he could shoot lightning from his fingertips? These superheros can leap fearlessly into danger because they supposedly no longer have a reason to be afraid – they become not men but angels, one step up the heirarchical ladder.

I know I m oversimplifying the superhero genre – there are no doubt exceptions to the rule, and readers can feel free to point these exceptions out in the comments. But we live in the real world, where human beings do not have superpowers, and where human beings cannot play God.

Frederich Neitzche formulated the idea of the Übermensch (a German word meaning “Superman”), and stated that it was a goal that humanity should set for itself. The current, finite state of humanity was recognized by Neitzche, and he wanted this state to be overcome. The concept of the Übermensch was directly connected to Neitzche’s “God is dead” philosophy – if mankind could advance towards utopia and towards greater power, the concept of God would be no longer necessary for values, morals, or for the advancement of civilization. Many historians credit the concept of the Übermensch as providing inspiration for eugenics.

I contend that our heroes should not be super in any way. Children should not have heroes who are superhuman, but rather merely human. Take C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series for instance. The main characters are often mere children, who usually show great courage and admirable virtue, but nonetheless have no special powers. The being who is powerful in all the stories is Aslan, the lion who is an allegorical stand-in for Christ.

Or take J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings. The main heroes are mere hobbits, incapable of great feats of war, driven only by their courage, faithfulness, and hope. The movies took characters like Legolas and turned them into uber-warriors (Singlehandedly taking down an oliphaunt? You don’t expect me to believe all elves are that tough!), but the books do not portray the characters so. Gandalf may be a powerful wizard, but he is not at all the central character of the story and merely helps the heroes along rather than stealing the show. Now that's what I'm Tolkien about (pun intended).

Take the Bible as another instance. The characters and figures therein do not overcome challenges by their own strength, but by the power of God. Moses did not part the Red Sea by his own strength. David did not overcome Goliath by his own strength. Isaiah did not prophecy by his own strength. Every Biblical story turns our eyes away from ourselves and our own desires for power, and turns our eyes towards God. Well-written fiction and well-made movies should do the same – the heroes in these films should overcome evil not by their own strength, but by the strength of the Lord.

I think that children, rather than viewing Spiderman or Eragon as heroes (characters who look to their own special abilities to save the day), should look to heroes who are in themselves weak, but are strengthened by their faith in God.

One last thing: God is not a superhuman hero either. He is not man stretched to the infinite. He is the timeless, immutable, all-powerful Creator. Man is a creature, God is the Creator. Man might fool himself into thinking that by gaining power he could somehow be like God, but when he starts thinking this way he forgets that the difference is not merely finitude – the difference is in being.

I know I've barely scratched on what could be said on this subject. So... do you agree or disagree with me on superhero films?

Quotes from Calvin that the Members of the "New Calvinism" Movement Won't Like

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 04:16:00 +0000

In celebration of Calvin's 500th birthday, I will be posting every Friday a quote from Calvin's Institutes. These I call "Quotes from Calvin that Members of the 'New Calvinism' Movement Won't Like." From my observations, these so-called "New Calvinists" aren't really Calvinistic at all. They believe in the 5 points, and for most of them that is as Reformed as they get. Thus, I feel I should warn them that they may not enjoy all of these quotes from Calvin.

[Warning: Some of the quotes that will be posted may contain harsh, biting critiques of theology. These quotes may not be for the faint of heart or for the easily offended teary types. Calvin often spoke with the severe language that was characteristic of his day.]

"It behooves us to note what Satan is attempting with this great subtlety of his. He is trying to take away from us the singular fruit of assurance and spiritual joy which is to be gathered from it, and also to diminish somewhat the glory of the divine goodness...

It is precisely this which Satan is attempting in assailing infant baptism with such an army: that, once this testimony of God's grace is taken away from us, the promise which, through it, is put before our eyes may eventually vanish little by little... Unless we wish spitefully to obscure God's goodness, let us offer our infants to him, for he gives them a place among those of his family and household, that is, the members of the church." [IV.XVI.32]

Delays, Delays, Nothing But Delays

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 04:09:00 +0000

Greetings, Knights and Maidens.

Sorry for the posting delay. I haven't been able to type up anything since my hard drive is giving me problems and needs to be replaced. I hope to return to posting this weekend, using a different computer temporarily.

A Scottish Lad and Lass

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Fri, 29 May 2009 02:23:00 +0000

A selection from the book “John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides: An Autobiography.”

Note: Lately I have been reading from the book mentioned above, which has proven to be a great inspiration. It is definitely one of the best books I have read in a long time. I thought I would post this selection from the book. The first chapter of the book is about Paton’s childhood, and he tells of how his parents were very devout and godly. He certainly rises up and calls them blessed. His father was an excellent example of what godly Christian manhood looks like.

[My mother] had gone with her high spirits and breezy disposition to gladden, as their companion, the quiet abode of some grand- or great-grand-uncle and aunt, familiarly named in all that Dalswinton neighborhood “Old Adam and Eve.” Their house was on the outskirts of the moor, and life for the young girl there had not probably too much excitement.

But one thing had arrested her attention.

She had noticed that a young stocking maker from the “Brig End,” James Paton, the son of William and Janet there, was in the habit of stealing alone into the quiet wood, book in hand, day after day, at certain hours, as if for private study and meditation.

It was a very excusable curiosity that led the young bright heart of the girl to watch him devoutly reading and hear him reverently reciting (though she knew not then, it was Ralph Erskine’s “Golden Sonnets,” which he could say by heart sixty years afterwards, as he lay on his bed of death); and finally that curiosity awed itself into a holy respect, when she saw him lay aside his broad Scotch bonnet, kneel down under the sheltering wings of some tree, and pour out all his soul in daily prayers to God.

As yet they had never spoken.

One day she slipped in quietly, stole away his bonnet, and hung it on a branch near by, while his trance of devotion made him oblivious of all around; then, from a safe retreat, she watched and enjoyed his perplexity in seeking for and finding it! A second day this was repeated; but his manifest disturbance of mind, and his long pondering with bonnet in hand, as if almost alarmed, seemed to touch another chord in her heart – that chord of pity which is so often the prelude of love, that finer pity that grieves to wound anything nobler or tenderer than ourselves.

Next day, when he came to his accustomed place of prayer, a little card was pinned against the tree just where he knelt, and on it these words:

“She who stole away your bonnet is ashamed of what she did; she has a great respect for you, and asks you to pray for her, that she may become as good a Christian as you.”

Staring long at that writing, he forgot Ralph Erskine for one day!

Taking down the card, and wondering who the writer could be, he was abusing himself for his stupidity in not suspecting that some one had discovered his retreat and removed his bonnet, instead of wondering whether angels had been there during his prayer – when, suddenly raising his eyes, he saw in front of old Adam’s cottage, through a lane amongst the trees, the passing of another kind of angel, swinging a milk pail in her hand and merrily singing some snatch of old Scottish song.

He knew, in that moment, by a Divine instinct, as infallible as any voice that ever came to seer of old, that she was the angel visitor that had stolen in upon his retreat – that bright-faced, clever-witted niece of old Adam and Eve, to whom he had never spoken, but whose praises he had often heard said and sung- “Wee Jen.”

I am afraid he did pray “for her,” in more senses than one, that afternoon; at any rate, more than a Scotch bonnet was very effectually stolen; a good heart and true was there virtually bestowed, and the trust was never regretted on either side, and never betrayed.

-Selection from “John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides: An Autobiography,” Elibron Classics Series, 2005, pages 12-13.

Paton’s father and mother married, lived a long happy, faithful life together, and enjoyed the blessings of having five sons and six daughters. They were both God-fearing parents who prayed for their children regularly.

For those interested in reading more about John G. Paton, who himself was a great man of faith, I encourage them to read John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides: An Autobiography.

The Triumphs and Failings of Heroes

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Tue, 26 May 2009 19:20:00 +0000

Many ancient myths tell of great heroes and their incredible, magnificent feats – overcoming fierce beasts, romancing beautiful women, being betrayed by sneaky villains, dying heroic deaths against impossible odds, and becoming figures of legend and inspiration to the civilizations and peoples telling their tales. These stories are factually untrue, but they reveal certain truths about the culture and worldview of the storytellers. Such myths do not tell of events that actually happened in history, but they do speak implicitly regarding the minds and imaginations of real historical peoples.

Such ancient myths often also extol immorality, adultery, lust, idolatry, and other egregious sins. The Epic of Gilgamesh is spattered throughout with images of harlots and lust. Others are filled with battles of violence for violence’s sake, and other “heroic” deeds that reveal the storyteller’s own concepts of heroism. The heroes are perfect by their own standard and by the standard of those who tell their stories – they revel in great deeds that are in reality sinful deeds, taking joy in so-called triumphs of the flesh that are truly defeats of the spirit. These myths reveal the paganism and immorality of ancient civilizations.

These stories can be compared to the historical, true stories of the Old Testament. We hear of amazing feats accomplished in the Old Testament era. David, a mere boy, kills a giant who strikes fear into an entire army. Noah escapes a cataclysmic flood in a giant boat. Moses is an exiled prince who returns to Egypt to save his people from tyranny and slavery. Abraham is a wandering lord who awaits the promises of a bountiful land and a great kingdom – who fights battles and wins against the odds, intercedes for cities, and shows his faith in the ultimate test. Yet, these stories, for all their magnificence, are different from the other stories of the ancient world.

How so?

The heroes in Old Testament stories don’t always triumph. Sometimes they fail.

Consider Noah. This was a man who alone, out of all the men in the earth, found favor in the eyes of God. He had the faith to work for about a hundred years on a boat, anticipating a worldwide flood, based on God’s revealed word. Right after what seems to be Noah’s great triumph, we read that –

Noah gets drunk.

How about Abraham? By faith he follows God’s call out into the wilderness, and then into Canaan. He reveals himself to be a man of faith and wisdom and understanding when he takes Isaac onto Mount Moriah, passing the test that God set for him. In between these great, inspiring stories, we read that –

Abraham tried to pass his wife off as his sister and nearly let another man sleep with her and contaminate the promised line. And he made this mistake twice.

How about Moses? He disobeyed God and was not allowed to enter Canaan. How about David? He slept with another man’s wife and then had the man sent into battle to die. He also caused a census to occur which was against God’s will and resulted in much strife.

Time and time again we read about these great heroes of the faith, and they fail. They fail.

What is the significance of this?

First, the fact that these men are shown to fail so often adds credence to the historical accuracy of the text. This wasn’t some overly biased account or a mere myth. Otherwise, all of these shortcomings, sins, and failures would have been omitted from the stories. The fact that these events are present show that the authors of the Old Testament books were deeply concerned with telling the whole story – failures and triumphs both.

Second, these failures remind us that these great men of faith were sinful human beings, affected by the Fall. Those times when the men triumphed? It was not by their own epic strength or heroic prowess. It was through the grace and might of Almighty God. By the grace of God, Noah was saved from the flood. By the grace of God, Abraham was brought to Canaan and made the father of many nations. By the grace of God, Moses brought his people out of Egypt. By the grace of God, David defeated Goliath.

The failings of these great men of faith show us that behind the triumphs, working in the story, permeating and filling the story, is the grace and power of God. These failings remind us that men are imperfect sinners, but God is a sovereign, good God. Even when these men fail, God acts justly in the situation, sometimes delivering them from their failures, while at other times there are consequences. These failures remind us that the successes of these men came about not through their own strength, but through God’s grace.

Great men? They are men of God. They are great because the God they serve is great, and he has shown them His grace. That is why, when they triumph, the glory ultimately goes to Him.

A Culture of Excess

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 25 May 2009 18:52:00 +0000

Beer commercials often politely tell the audience to have designated drivers, or to drive home safely. This is understandable; no one wants a lot of intoxicated drivers on the streets. The companies tell the customers to drive safely, but they do not tell the customer not to get drunk. They want, after all, for customers to buy as much of their product as possible. In these commercials, drunkenness is not viewed as a problem unless the person under the influence is behind a steering wheel.

Similarly, commercials for diet programs merrily promise that you will be able to eat as much of the good food that you want on their diet, saying they have found a secret that will allow you to enjoy your favorite delicacies while staying underweight. Restraint and moderation are not encouraged, rather, these commercials promise a scenario in which you can try to have the best of both worlds – a splurging, excessive lifestyle in private, with the public appearance of one who has a moderated, well ordered lifestyle.

This mindset is present in our spiritual lives as well. Christians may appear devout and well-rounded theologically, and consistently full of the joy of Christ. They may constantly spout out Christian buzzwords in public, creating the appearance of spiritual health and soberness, when on the inside they are rotting away due to secret sins and an excessive lifestyle. In public, these people speak of the things of God. In private, they spend all afternoon watching television, surfing the internet, playing video games, or entertaining themselves in other various ways.

Entertainment itself is not evil – it can be relaxing and refreshing. Yet too many Christians do not practice recreation in moderation. We can easily think, “I’m home from work now, I can do whatever I want.” Reading the Scriptures, praying, fellowship, and time with our families can get pushed aside in the name of relaxation. This is just one example of a disordered life.

How can we overcome this mindset? The Apostle Peter proposes an alternate mindset:

“But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.

Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set on fire and dissolved, and the heavenly bodies will melt as they burn! But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.” (2 Peter 3:10-13).

We must live in the light of the eschaton. Christ’s return is immanent. How then shall we live? What shall we do with our time? How will we give an account of our works? Will we be fat in our own pleasures and malnourished in our works of ministry and righteousness?

Let us cast off this excess of self-centeredness and place all our hearts and hopes on the return of the King. We are, after all, not wealthy barons sitting in a fine estate, but soldiers on a battlefield. Those who are loyal will continue fighting.

A Theology Well Lived

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Sat, 23 May 2009 05:16:00 +0000

Abraham Kuyper was home schooled by his parents for much of his early life. His father was a minister in the Dutch Reformed Church, and had several pastorates. When Kuyper was twelve he had some secondary education at a small school, though his primary education still took place at home. His teachers at school thought he was dull, but he surprised them by going to Leiden University and graduating with high honors. He took classes in a well-rounded variety of topics, including literature, theology, philosophy, physics, and Arabic.

He was promoted to doctor of Theology in 1863 after writing a dissertation in which he compared the views of John Calvin and Jan Łaski, showing preference for the more Liberal Łaski. He was twenty-six when he received his doctorate.

A year later he began his ministry, following in his father’s footsteps by pastoring a Dutch Reformed Church in Beesd. About that same time he married his wife, Johanna, with whom he would have eight children. He met a simple farmer’s wife named Pietje, whose simple Reformed faith inspired him and led him away from his more Liberal tendencies to orthodoxy. He began to dislike that the Dutch Reformed Church was a state Church, and believed the Church was losing its Reformed distinctives. During this time he became editor-in-chief of several newspapers, and his opinions began to become more widely known.

In 1874 he was elected as a member of the lower house of Parliament. He founded the Free University of Amsterdam in 1880. He was having an impact in every sphere in his country – in the Church, in education, in literature, in public speaking, in the government, and in the press.

After a great deal of controversy, Kuyper became increasingly unhappy with the loss of many Reformed distinctives within the Dutch Reformed Church, and left the Church. Hundreds of Christians left with him, forming the Doleantie Churches. Within three years there were over two hundred Doleantie Churches. Kuyper sought union amongst these Churches, and it came about in 1892 and the result was the formation of the Reformed Church of the Netherlands.

In 1898 he visited Princeton Theological Seminary, and gave what are known as the “Stone Lectures.” In these lectures he laid out his conception of a life-system for man that was centered around the truths professed in the Reformed Faith. These lectures were later titled “Calvinism, a Life System”; “Calvinism and Religion”; “Calvinism and Politics”; “Calvinism and Science”; “Calvinism and Art”; and “Calvinism and the Future.”

In 1901, Kuyper became the Prime Minister of the Netherlands, an office he held for four years. Afterwards he spent over a year traveling the world, and recounted his travels in his book “Around the Old World Sea.” The entire first edition of the book sold out before it was even printed. He then became the Minister of State. By this time he was seventy-five, but he was far from finished. He wrote three hundred and six articles over six years in a series he called “Van de Voleinding.” He then started to write once more in a work on the Messiah, but he was unable to finish that work as he died in 1920, at the age of eighty-three. He had written over two hundred works.

Kuyper was such an influential figure in every sphere of life that the newspapers, upon his seventieth birthday, noted that the biography of Abraham Kuyper was in many ways a history of the Netherlands. Kuyper was no fraud or hypocritical celebrity, however. His close friend Dr. John Hendrick de Vries said, “Dr. Kuyper knew something of the holy art of love. . . it is remembered by many with admiration and gratitude, that however pressed by his multifarious labors, he never refused audience to any that came to him for counsel and help.”

Kuyper’s strength and indefatigability came from his understanding that God is the Ruler of every sphere of life. “The whole of a man’s life is to be lived as in the Divine Presence,” said Kuyper. He perceived Modernism to be a counter-life-system that would ruin society, science, education, religion, and every sphere of life. Kuyper believed his own life-system was much stronger: the life-system of Reformed Christianity, what he called “Calvinism.”

(Biography adapted from the Biographical note in "Lectures on Calvinism" by Abraham Kuyper, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1931.)

Summer Time!

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Thu, 21 May 2009 18:20:00 +0000

The Knight of the Living God blog will return to posting tomorrow! See you then!

Intermission

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Sat, 09 May 2009 14:42:00 +0000

As one might note - I had to stop posting. I'm writing several papers for school and they are taking up all my time. I will return to posting in two weeks.

The Revealer

noreply@blogger.com (Shepherd) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 12:30:00 +0000

The Samaritans did not get along well with the Jews.

They viewed themselves as children of God, but only read the Pentateuch and worshiped on their own mountain instead of in Jerusalem. They believed, like the Jews, in a Messianic-type figure who was to come, but unlike the Jews, the Samaritans put an emphasis on this figure’s role as a Revealer. They called him the Taheb.

In John 4, when Jesus encounters the woman at the well, it is likely that she sees Him as this Taheb (in actuality, He is far greater than the expected "Taheb"). This implied identification with the Samaritan savior fits well within the overall theme of the Gospel of John. Christ is the Word – the Word is Revelation – the Taheb was to be the Revealer. The Samaritans viewed their coming savior as a teacher, and Jesus was certainly a teacher. The importance of this identification is subtle but powerful. When Jesus encounters the woman at the well, she recognizes Him as the Revealer.

The Samaritans believed in a coming Messiah... the Taheb

Later, in chapter 8, when Jesus encounters the Jews, they do not recognize Him as the Revealer – they seek to kill Him. Ironically, though “salvation is of the Jews” as Jesus tells the woman at the well, it is the Jewish leaders, the Pharisees, who are in the “darkness” that does not comprehend the light. The woman asks Jesus “are you greater than Jacob?” and comes to recognize him for who He is – the Jews ask Jesus “are you greater than Abraham?” and seek to stone Him. Perhaps a key difference is this: the woman at the well comes to recognize and admit that she is a sinner, even if only sheepishly and indirectly, as she is embarrassed and guilt-ridden. Because she recognizes this, she comes to recognize her savior – she thirsts for the water. Meanwhile, in comparison, the Jewish leaders, who drink of the water of the Torah and call themselves the children of God, fail to see their own sin and the savior.

Christ is much more than the Revealer - He is our savior. He was a Messiah far grander and more majestic than the Samaritans could have ever conceived their "Taheb" to be. He reveals to us the beautiful salvific plan of God, and the grace that God has shown to sinners. Christ is not merely the Revealer - He is what is revealed.

Christ reveals to us our need for salvation; yet He is also our salvation. What hold can sin have over us when our hope is in Christ? Rejoice in the savior, God's revealed Word!