The author is trying to present both sides fairly on each area of the controversy, and lay out a balanced, faithful approach to each issue.  Someone summarized the book as:

1. There are problems in the English-speaking church.
2. There are fair criticisms of the church.
3. There are faithful solutions to those questions.

If you’re interested in some reviews, check out: (1) A thorough summary & review by Kevin DeYoung (notice the comments left by Jim Belcher).  (2) A review from a hard-nosed conservative, Frank Turk, explaining what’s so good about this book, even though it’s too nice sometimes.  (This one includes an mp3 of a interview featuring both Turk and Belcher on a radio show.)  (3) A negative review from 9Marks.  (4) A response from Belcher, and a response from Frank.

I was assigned to make the summary & discussion questions for the chapter on epistemology–”Deep Truth”.  Here goes!

By the way, if you have any suggestions for more discussion questions, I’d love to hear ‘em.

Chapter 4: Deep Truth

Summary

The discussion has centered on “epistemology” & “postmodernism”–having to do with the nature of knowledge & certainty, and how we know what we know.  But people often work from different definitions of “postmodernism”, or they emphasize & focus on different aspects.  Talking past each other has made it hard to reach a common Biblical balanced perspective.

To traditionalists, “postmodernism” equals the individualistic relativism that flowed out of modernism.  But emergers have focused on postmodernism’s valid critique of modernism–the quest for invincible certainty through rational argument built on unshakable foundations, with all the stereotypes of fundamentalism: Triumphalism, arrogance, closed-off-ness, and dismissing questions.  Some emergers have been too quick to embrace postmodernism’s alternative: Truth is discovered (or constructed) by each community, without accountability from the outside.  But they have not always explained how to avoid relativism.

The deep church stands in humble “proper confidence”–not an unassailable certainty we achieve by our individual, perfect, unbiased study, but confidence in the Spirit’s work to bring us into the truth of the biblical story.  God’s revelation gives us confidence that we substantially know the reality he shows us outside ourselves.  Our knowledge is real without claiming perfect sight that never needs to learn from others.  The deep church’s deepest concern is not guarding the fences that mark the outer boundaries of orthodoxy.  We know & proclaim the Well of life at the center: Christ, drawing thirsty sinners to him through the Gospel.

Main points:

• We seek to avoid the stereotypes of both relativism and fundamentalism.
• We are humbly confident in God’s work to reveal himself, always learning, always gracious.
• Our central focus & confidence is in the Well of life: Christ, drawing thirsty sinners to him through the Gospel.

Discussion:

• How are you used to hearing the word “postmodernism” used?  Have you seen it as a good or bad thing?
• If the Bible says things like “so that you may know” or “the certain knowledge”, how can someone object to the idea of invincible certainty?  Has the quest for certainty ever been a bad thing, or manifested in bad ways?
• Where do we get our confidence?  Where can we be most confident, and why?
• How do we balance humble grace and confident proclamation?
• Update: How should we connect Bible study & theology with community?  Should our Bible study be done in community?  Solely in community? Primarily in community? What about local community vs the broader community of historic Christianity?

The Verse

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)

The Common Interpretation

People read this in the context of evangelism & the gospel.  Jesus is standing at the door with the gospel invitation–just open the door, and he’ll come into your heart.

The Context

14 “And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.

15 “‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! 16 So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. 17 For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. 19 Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. 20 Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. 21 The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”

The Meaning

Jesus isn’t talking to people outside the church–this is one of the messages to seven churches in Asia!  (There’s a question about what exactly “the angel of the church” means in these seven messages, which I’m going to ignore.)  So looking at the context immediately tells you that verse 20 isn’t about general evangelism.  What does it mean?

The first thing that strikes me is this: Christ is inviting people inside the church to let him “come in and eat with” us.  Is this some kind of higher level of intimacy or blessing?  If so, that should thrill us, and make each of us consider carefully.  How is he inviting us? How do we partake?  What’s actually going on?  Are we already there?  If so, who isn’t? (And how do we help our brothers & sisters enter into it?)

Laodicea the Lukewarm Church

Specifically, Jesus is speaking to the lukewarm–churchgoers who do not pursue God with passion & zeal.  Perhaps it’s people who “prayed a prayer” or “joined the group”–but they’re personally apathetic.  Jesus calls them to repent–not from active rebellion & hostility to God, but from lives of comfortable presumption that it doesn’t matter how they live.

Ephesians 2:8-9 is a standard passage in evangelicalism; we love it for the simple statement that we do not earn salvation–we’re saved by God’s grace, through faith, not as a result of our works.  I imagine the Lukewarm are those who bank on those verses, but who want to ignore verse 10–that we are created in Christ for good works, which God prepared beforehand for us to do.  We’re not saved by our works, but we’re saved for them.  The grace of God is not intended to give tickets to heaven to the lazy & comfortable–Christ “gave himself for us … to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.” (Titus 2:14)

Christ died to save us, and to change us, to live lives of reckless abandon for him.  This is what he is calling us toward–opening our eyes to see true riches.  (Not that we do this by our own strength–it’s part of God’s grace in our lives, Phil 2:12-18.)

The Carrot and the Stick

And this is not simply a pleading invitation–there is carrot and there is stick.  There’s reproof here–discipline coming from his love for us, but discipline nonetheless.  Namely: Because they are lukewarm, uncaring, Christ is ready to “spit you out of my mouth”.

It would be inconsistent with the Gospel to say that this means, “Meet a certain standard to earn your continued salvation, or you’ll be kicked out.”  But it is easy to see the connection with the common theme in Scripture of “fruit”.

• That “Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.” (1 John 4:8)
• That real faith shows itself in works. (James 2:14-26)
• That who we are & our relationship to God is revealed by our fruit (Matt 12:33, Luke 6:43-44, 8:9-15, John 15:2, Gal. 5:21-24, 1 John 3:9-10), and every tree that bears no fruit is cut down, because it reveals they do not know Christ (Matt 7:15-23).

So, it is possible that the Lukewarm in Laodicea did not yet truly know Christ.  It’s possible that they know Christ, and this is what God used to transform them.  (Or, if those who think you can lose salvation are right, these could be true Christians in danger of falling from grace.  But I take Rom 8:26-30 to mean that God bends every event in the lives of his children to prevent that from happening.)  I assume that the church would include a mix.

In any case, we’re being called toward what we were created for–the life of joy & passion & love we’re meant to live.

P.S. “Crazy Love”

I haven’t read it myself, but my parents tell me their church is studying Crazy Love, by Francis Chan.  It discusses these issues from Revelation 3, describing both the Lukewarm Church, and a life of “crazy love”.

My favorite comes from Greg Koukl:  “Never read a Bible verse.”

The point being, never read just one verse.  Always read the surrounding verses, too–to get a better idea of the topic, and to help understand what the main point is, and to help figure out ambiguous phrases.  (I wrote a post a couple years ago on this, called Understanding God’s Word.)  Sometimes it’s a jarring experience to read a familiar verse in context–because you discover that it doesn’t actually say what you always thought.  Maybe the idea is still found elsewhere in the Bible (i.e. maybe it’s just a case of “Right idea, wrong passage”)…or maybe not.  Either way, it’s a moment of dissonance.

I’m going to start a series.  Each entry will present a familiar verse from the evangelical world, describe the common interpretation, and look at the context.  Most of these will be very straightforward.

I’d like to highlight both (1) how important it is to be careful about context, and (2) how easy it is to avoid so many mistakes.  (Some things do require deeper study–but you can get a long way with simple, obvious habits. It’s not esoteric.)

Note: An internet friend of mine, Lisa Robinson, was talking on Facebook about doing some posts like this for Parchment and Pen.  So I’m sort of stealing her idea.  But my own blog has so few readers that I don’t think I’ll actually be stealing her thunder.  :)

Well… There’s a lot wrong with the way Christians sometimes interact with each other over differences of belief & practice–at the personal level and at the denominational level, within churches and between them.  We get hung up over small details.  We get defensive and prideful.  We get “factious”, as some translations of Titus 3:9-10 put it.  Individual churches split, whether for good or bad reasons.

And in the past–mostly when the State dipped its hand into the church, or vice-versa–this has led to violence, persecution, and death.  The Spanish Inquisition, the burning of John Huss, the execution of Servetus in Geneva, the persecution of Irish Catholics, or of Anabaptists by both Catholics and Lutherans.  Issues of orthodoxy being settled by the sword.

On the other hand, differences & potential divisions have also been handled with maturity, peace, love, and reconciliation.  Maybe that’s even been the dominant tendency.  (It’s hard to say, since scandalous behavior stands out so much.)  But doing this well is a personal, individual struggle.  It’s something we all must learn, part of our growth in love & maturity.  It’s an area that needs careful attention, with a lot to figure out on resolving conflicts & differences, both the personal & organizational levels.  (It’s what motivates the ecumenical movement–which has its own merits and flaws.)

And as one small piece of the large discussion, I want to ask:  Is the existence of denominations really a scandal, itself?

Denominationalism tends to be a main target any time we critique divisiveness.  After all, could anything epitomize division & separation more than denominations?

And yet… A couple questions:

I’m part of Hope Chapel, a non-denominational church in Austin.  Just down the street, there’s First Cumberland Presbyterian Church.  Does the fact that we’re not the same local church displease God?  The fact that they have the word “Presbyterian” on their sign?  The fact that they’re affiliated with other churches in a large-scale organization–one that doesn’t include us? (Some will say “yes” to the last–it displeases God.)

Is it a scandal that we don’t do everything the same way? As a Presbyterian church, they hold certain things in common with other Presbyterians.  They practice infant baptism, believing that it inducts children into the community of the church.  (My church doesn’t, believing that baptism is something consciously chosen.)  Their church is led by elders/presbyters, both “teaching elders” and “ruling elders”.  (We also have elders, in addition to our senior pastor.)  They believe that local churches should be grouped together in synods, providing oversight & mediation of disputes–and synods grouped in the general assembly.  (My church is independent.)

They hold to these things out of biblical conviction–they think it’s how God wants church to look.  Including the part that involves large-scale organization.  So is it really a scandal for them to group together, and have a name for the group?  Is it a scandal that we’re not part of that grouping, because we don’t do things the same way–since our understanding of Scripture’s guidance is different?

In the perfect world to come, we won’t have those differences.  They’re happening because somewhere, some of us are misunderstanding & making mistakes.  And someday, we’ll be with God more directly and won’t have those problems.  (The differences of principle will disappear, if perhaps not the differences of style.)

But in the meantime, where does the scandal come in?  From the very existence of different denominations?  Or is it possible to have a God-honoring unity in spite of our denominational differences?  A unity rooted in Christ & the Gospel?  A unity reflected in the way we interact with each other, across our denominational lines?

As we seek to treat one another as brothers & sisters in Christ in this world, ridding ourselves of a divisive spirit, will that actually require dismantling denominations?

To encourage Discipline and avoid Discouragement, we have:

1.) My choice:  The Discipleship Journal Bible Reading Plan.  It’s a member of the “read from four different sections of the Bible each day” species of reading plan.  Benefits:

• Scope. I love the read-from-different-sections plans.  Among other things, it makes it much easier to slog through the rougher patches, like Leviticus, Number, & Deuteronomy.
• Flexibility. There are four readings for each day–but you can do just one, or two, or three.
• The most awesomest super-cool feature: Good for slackers! It only has 25 days worth of readings for each month, giving you free days to catch up if/when you fall behind.
• It’s also recommended by both my own pastor, and John Piper. So it’s gotta be good.

2.) Good news for those of us who look to the ESV Bible as the One True Translation™ (I kid, I kid): The ESV.org people have put together a fantastic site with 10 different reading plans.  Including a podcast feature for listening to the readings!  According to Justin Taylor, the plans can be accessed by:

• web (a new reading each day appears online at the same link)
• RSS (subscribe to receive by RSS)
• podcast (subscribe to get your daily reading in audio)
• email (subscribe to receive by email)
• iCal (download an iCalendar file)
• mobile (view a new reading each day on your mobile device)
• print (download a PDF of the whole plan)

Here’s all 10 ESV Reading Plans

JT also explains how to sign up for these plans as podcasts in iTunes.  (They don’t show up in the music store, but you can still easily add them.)

3.) Finally, we  have The Bible Reading Plan for Slackers and Shirkers.  It doesn’t mark the readings by date, so you can never tell that you’ve “fallen behind” if you missed a day.  There’s no such thing as falling behind!

The advantage of this plan is that it provides guidance as we read each day but does not put us on an internal guilt trip if we miss a day – we just pick up with the next reading on the day it happens to be.  Also, this plan allows us to see the many interconnections between sections of Scripture. So, as Margie puts it, on the same day you may be reading about God’s covenant with Abraham in Genesis and a few days later read Paul’s commentary on the Abrahamic covenant in Romans.

4.) A couple other suggestions from Facebook friends:  Jennifer Lawton pointed out that having other people to encourage you can help keep you going.  And LaNette Lathem said that reading from an unfamiliar translation can keep things fresh.  (If you’ve got any other suggestions for avoiding the doldrums–or if you have a favorite plan I missed–then please leave a comment!)

Good luck to you all!  Er, I mean, “Good providential outworking of God’s plan for your life!”

With that in mind, does anybody really think Jesus had to repeat everything from the Old Testament in his teachings–or we can dismiss it?  That would be a pretty odd expectation.

And yet, modern religious discussion seems to have a new trump-card:  ”Jesus never talked about ______.”  If Jesus never talked about [insert traditional/conservative/disliked belief], then supposedly it has no place in true Christianity–it’s just man-made.  (The argument also has a more reasonable form, which I’ll talk about below–but first I want to look at the dismissive form.)

It might be used against any view seen as “traditional”–anything part of widespread assumptions about Christianity.  As an experiment, I googled “Jesus never talked about”.  Six of the first ten results were on homosexuality.  Another says that all sex-related rules are just man-made.  (That one’s odd, since Jesus did talk about sexual morals.)  Another says that Paul can’t be legit, because Jesus never talked about him.  I tried again, excluding “homosexuality” from the results, and came up with:  Original sin, “saying The Prayer”/”becoming a Christian”/”salvation”, legislating morality, and purgatory.

The Problems

Does anyone really think that if Jesus didn’t explicitly, directly mention something, it’s not sin? Did he talk about rape?  Child abuse?  Did he mention the common infanticide practiced in the Roman Empire?  Did he mention bestiality?

We know he spoke about murder, and sexual immorality in general.  But we don’t know that he ever mentioned these.  Does that mean he condoned them?

So where does this thinking go wrong?

The first problem:  The written gospel accounts don’t pretend to record everything Jesus said.  We can’t say, “Jesus never mentioned X.”  We can only say, “The gospel writers didn’t include anything about it.”  Each gospel writer included and emphasized different portions of Jesus’ teaching; they don’t claim to include all of it. (On the contrary.)

Even if Jesus himself actually did directly mention every moral issue during his time on earth, we don’t have everything he said.

The second problem: Red-letter Christianity.

Sometimes, modern printings of the Bible put the words of Jesus in red letters.  And some people view the red letters as the only part that’s really Scripture, really God’s word.  Oddly, people will reject Jesus’ own view of the Scriptures.  He appealed to the Old Testament as the word of God; he affirmed Moses and the Psalms and the prophets.  They spoke by the Spirit of God–the same Spirit by whom the apostles & prophets of the New Testament spoke.

If you try to separate Jesus from the Scriptures, reading only the red letters, you can’t get very far.  You have to excise all the red letters that talk about Scripture and the Holy Spirit.  (That’s exactly what Marcion tried to do.)

And that takes us back to the third problem: Jesus didn’t come to create a new religion.  He’s not dropping in out of the blue and starting with a blank slate.  Jesus is a Jew; Christianity continues & builds on Judaism.  And according to Jesus, he didn’t come to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it.

Jesus’ birth in Israel wasn’t an accident of history.  He’s not a moral teacher who just happened to appear in Israel, and when he spoke about the Law he wasn’t simply commenting on the prevailing morality of his surroundings–he certainly wasn’t affirming some and discarding the rest.  (It’s not as though he set out to ratify the valid parts of Old Testament morality and ignore the parts he didn’t like.)  The Law was from the Father, with whom Jesus is one.  When he criticized the prevailing morality, it was because they departed from the Law for the sake of man-made traditions.  But the Law itself was the word of God.

If we take Jesus in the gospels seriously, we have to take the rest of the Bible seriously.  Jesus, the Word of God, affirmed Scripture as the word of God.  You can’t separate its teachings from his.

On The Other Hand…

More reasonably, “Jesus never mentioned ___” does raise a question about importance and emphasis.  It’s silly to assume that Jesus mentioned every moral issue and theological truth, but he did specifically teach about his purpose in coming, the kingdom of God, and the central meaning of the gospel.  So it seems reasonable to expect that the main things would show up coming from Jesus himself.

It’s a slippery question, but at least it raises food for thought.

Aside from that, the criticisms people are making might still be valid, even though “Jesus never mentioned X” is a bad argument.  Going back to the list from Google, I certainly agreed with some of the critiques–against purgatory, against some forms of legislating morality, against “praying-the-prayer”-as-magical-words-that-grant-eternal-security.

But to make a valid critique on anything, you need a lot more than this argument from Jesus’ supposed silence.

To Sum It Up

Saying “Jesus never talked about ____” isn’t a good trump card.  It doesn’t do much, though it can raise food for thought.

“[The mystery] was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit. This mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” Ephesians 3:5-6

If you say, “Jesus didn’t come to start a religion,” where do you put the emphasis?

Usually, people put the emphasis on “religion”.

1. They might be saying, “I think he was just a good moral teacher”. (In which case they have to disagree with much of what he taught about himself, or dismiss the idea that he really said any of it.)
2. Or they might be evangelical Christians using some form of the saying, “Christianity is a relationship, not a religion.”  (And that saying can be either helpful or inane, depending on how you flesh it out.)

Today, on Christmas, I want to put the emphasis on “start”.  Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion.

Jesus is Jewish.  The Messiah.  Jesus came to inaugurate the new covenant–hinted at in the Torah, foreshadowed in the Psalms, promised in the prophets.  He came to live the life we couldn’t and die our death so we needn’t.  He came to reveal–in the flesh–the mystery of how the Jews would be a blessing and a light to the nations.

Today, we should remember–not the beginning of a religion, but its continuation and gracious expansion.  Today, we celebrate Jesus, our foundation, the cornerstone of inclusion:  The inclusion of the Gentiles into the covenant of the promise made long ago by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  Today, we remember how we Gentiles are grafted in, becoming children of Abraham, God’s chosen people.

Today, we remember:

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands—remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.

And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord.

In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

Ephesians 2:11-22

I think it went well.  It was both easy and difficult to prepare.  Easy, because of some excellent sermons & commentary on the Lord’s Supper that were percolating in my brain.  Difficult, to condense it to a concise, clear reflection.  The material on it in 1 Corinthians 10-11 is fairly rich, and I couldn’t begin to do it justice in 5 minutes.  I focused on an element that has not been emphasized, in my past church experience:  How communion relates to community and love and relationship, and what it means to examine ourselves.

There was so much more, though.  I’d like to do a series of posts expanding on it, from the gospel accounts and from more of 1 Corinthians.  I’ll try to get it done during the month of December.

You can listen to or download the recording at our sermon archive, if you’d like.  Or, here’s the transcript.  Also, here’s the short description from the archive:

What does it mean to examine ourselves, judge ourselves rightly, and discern the body? The answer is rooted in Christ’s physical body–his sacrifice–and in the gathered church as the body of Christ. We unite in love to participate in Christ, proclaiming the gospel and showing its power.

———————————————-
Good morning, Hope Chapel, my name is Tim Margheim.  Please hold the elements until we all partake together.  If you’re a guest, know we invite all Christians to join with us.  Parents, we leave it to you to determine whether your children are ready to participate.

Today I’d like to speak from 1 Corinthians 11, Paul’s discussion of communion, in order to draw out something that wasn’t often emphasized about the Lord’s Supper, in my upbringing.

We know that the Lord’s Supper is a thing of joy and grace.  But Paul wrote in disappointment with the church in Corinth, saying, “In the following instructions I do not commend you, because when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse.”  They were taking this meal in a way that turned it from a blessing to a curse.  He cautioned them, saying,

Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord.  Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup.  For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself. That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died. But if we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged.

So Paul is concerned about the way we approach the Lord’s Supper.  What does it mean to examine ourselves, judge ourselves rightly, and discern the body?

The more familiar part of the answer is that we should take the meal seriously, remembering Christ and his sacrifice on the Cross, in our place, for our sins.  And judging ourselves rightly means that we know we can’t make ourselves worthy.  He didn’t say, “Only come if your life is where God wants it to be,” or “if you pray enough”, or “if you read your Bible enough”, or “if you’ve done enough good deeds”. There is a worthy manner of celebrating, with humble, repentant awareness of Christ’s sacrifice for our sin.  But we come depending on God’s gift, in the middle of our failures.  This is the gospel, the central meaning of the Supper.

But it might be less familiar that Paul’s main criticism was about the way they were treating each other.  He said, “When you come together, it is not the Lord’s supper that you eat,” and “when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you”.  Some ate full meals while others went hungry.  Paul asked, “Do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing?”  They came together, but they came divisively.

In this light, what does it mean to examine ourselves and “discern the body”?

In the fall, our elder Cotton Hance pointed out a double-meaning in the phrase, “discern the body”: On the one hand, there’s Christ’s physical body–his sacrifice.  On the other hand, we are the body.  And when they came divisively, they twisted the meaning of the Lord’s Supper.

If we remember the work of Christ to save us, we should remember what he saved us for.  He died, not just to save us as individuals from hell, but also to bring us together into a family.  He says “discern the body”, and in the very next chapter he says that we are one body, with many members.  That we need each other, and are called into the most excellent way of love–the love of the Spirit, by which all the world will see that we are Christ’s disciples.  We’re called to be servants, opening our lives and surrendering our time, allowing God to knit us together in true relationship–not just here on Sunday, but throughout each week, in Hope groups, in phone calls, in meetings in coffee shops, in inviting each other into our homes to share meals. This love, this community, where God’s kingdom is breaking into the world, is intended to be a light of hope, both proclaiming the gospel and showing its power, to a broken world of sinners in desperate need of salvation.

So now, having come together, let us examine ourselves.  Let us be one, in humble repentance, remembering the gift of Christ’s sacrifice, and rejoicing in the gift of his work among us.  Let’s pray.

Father, we receive, and we thank you for your work among us.  Please Father, continue your work of love.  Give us the peace and freedom of loving each other well.  Help us not to keep records of wrongs, and forgive us for sometimes failing each other, and give us hope for new change.  May we approach this meal today with love, and with openness, and with reverence; it is Christ’s body and blood, for us.  And may we approach our relationships with one other with something of the same importance, because together, we are Christ’s body.  May our lives display the work of your love, and may the world see Christ in us.  May we be quick to speak the words of life, the words of good news, calling the world to repent and receive this gift.   May we have the joy of baptizing many into the body of Christ, to be part of your family, adopted through Jesus.  And Father, may every celebration of this table be a renewal and a reminder and a proclamation of all the grace and peace and truth and love that is in Christ.  In the name of Jesus, as his body, by his work, we pray, amen.

So let us eat together, from Christ’s body, broken on the Cross for us.

And let us take the cup together, and drink from Christ’s blood, the new covenant with God, poured out for our sins.

Self-centered teaching: Go off, think allegedly insightful, ground-breaking, epiphanic thoughts.  Then gather an audience and broadcast your views.  Stop there.  (Analogy:  A radio.  Tossing spaghetti against the wall, but not really caring if it sticks.  Example: Arrogant, unconcerned professors.)

Christ-like teaching: Because you’re motivated by genuine affection & concern for people, you get involved with people’s lives.  You make time.  Intimacy happens.  You might be a lecture-style teacher, or a blogger, or a radio host–but your life also includes discipleship relationships. You meet with people, you know what’s going on in their lives, you’re concerned about them and their growth.  You follow up.

Why this is on my mind: I’ve been realizing that some aspects of my personal relationships really stink.  Or are underdeveloped.  I want to change–to see all my relationships be more natural, friendly, affectionate, generous, discerning, and humble.  In the area of truth/teaching/doctrine/understanding, I want to include a genuine posture of hearing & receiving.  I want my speaking/teaching/encouraging to come out of an integrated concern for people.  I want to be able to talk about these things naturally, conversationally.

Coincidentally, Frank Turk just posted something this morning on a related subject (comment #6).  He included a highly appropriate verse, so here it is:

Paul, talking to his protege Timothy:

The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith. Certain persons, by swerving from these, have wandered away into vain discussion, desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make confident assertions. (1 Tim. 1:5-7)

I love to study.  To read.  To learn.  I’m like many theology-reading, coffee-shop-dwelling, blog-haunting, podcast-devouring twenty-somethings.

It can be a source of pride.  Forget justification by works–we’ve got justification by podcast.  You want to see fruit?  Just look at the list of people who I read & listen to.  Impressive, no?

Studying Well

Do we study to master the information?  To delight in fascinating controversy?  To best opponents?

Or do we study to see God more clearly, to love him more truly?  Know him, to depend on his promises, and to stop living in small-minded, self-centered ways?  Do we study to look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere in pure, undefiled religion before God?  To see and hear Christ, and act?  To rein in spiteful tongues, to speak blessing & encouragement, and to love those who need it most?  (James 1:22-27)

Do we study like this?

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.

[...]

If anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.

So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will.

2 Timothy 2:14-26

The study that God desires is study that bears fruit, in my own life and in others’.

The Test of a Spiritual Gift

I fancy myself as one with the spiritual gift of teaching.  I certainly enjoy knowledge, and I enjoy explaining things.  But why?  Is it because I enjoy the sound of my own voice?  Being recognized and praised?

A spiritual gift, Paul says, is a way that the Spirit of God works through us for the benefit of everyone–encouragement, and comfort, and service, and love, building each other up, caring for one another.  When it involves a talent, it is not simply a talent.  It is a talent harnessed. Harnessed to the work of the Master, the Savior, the Good Shepherd.  The Comforter.  It’s the Spirit, doing his work through us.

I do not want to be a self-involved Explorer of Theology, going out to explore the worlds of thought, bringing back nuggets of conceptual gold to be admired.  Not a mere lecturer.  I want to be a better friend, a true friend.  I want to walk through life with people I love.  I want my study and my teaching to be in a community, for a community.  I want to wrestle together, and to learn from my brothers and sisters.  I want to speak comfort and blessing.  I want to be involved in the lives of my friends.  I want to help where I can, and receive the help I need.

If I must boast or feel pride, I want to measure success in lives.  In my impact on people.  In ministry of grace from God.

That is a spiritual gift.  That is walking like Christ, in the Spirit.

To Sum Up: The Parable of the Ten Minas

Our sermon last Sunday was on a version of the parable of the talents, recorded by Luke, told when Jesus was about to enter Jerusalem.  Jesus spoke about the time we live in now, waiting for the king to return.

Jesus compared us to servants, who were given an amount of money, and told to engage in business till his return.  He showed us that we are supposed to take what God has given us, and put it to work.  To serve God’s interests.  To bear fruit.  To be faithful with what we have.

There’s something ugly about the lazy servant, the useless servant, who did nothing with what he was given.  Who did not serve.  And it’s so weird that we should ever be reluctant.  What could possibly be better & more satisfying than doing things his way?  What could be better than beholding God, worshipping him, and blessing people?