A Note for Preachers (and the rest of us as well!)

"Expound the law truly, and open the veil of Moses, to condemn all flesh, and prove all men sinners, and all deeds under the law, before mercy have taken away the condemnation thereof, to be sin, and damnable; and then as a faithful minister, set abroach the mercy of our Lord Jesus, and let the wounded consciences drink of the water of him. And then shall your preaching be with power, and not as the hypocrites. And the Spirit of God shall work with you; and all consciences shall bear record unto you, and feel that it is so. And all doctrine that casteth a mist on these two, to shadow and hide them, I mean the law of God, and mercy of Christ, that resist you with all your power."

I recently came across this quote from the English Reformer William Tyndale, and I was moved by the clear and convicting thesis: we must teach the law of God fully (to expose the sinful) and we must teach the mercy of Christ fully (to heal the repentent).

Inevitably, when I hear a sermon or a testimony that omits or dilutes one or the other of these two doctrines, heresy follows close behind. And, no, that is not too strong a word. If the grace of God is offered to or "accepted" by a person with no real sense of their sinfulness and enmity against a holy God, it is cheap grace only, and cheap grace does not save. If the law of God is proclaimed to the exclusion of the grace available for all who thirst for it, the convicted hearer will depart shamed into believing that God's forgiveness must be earned through penitential deeds. Both extremes are heresy indeed. Cheap grace denies the weight of the Cross; legalism denies its power.

So, whether from a pulpit or over a water-cooler, remember that the Gospel is not just, "God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life!" Nor is it, "Thou shalt not..." The Gospel is the presentation of both the law of God and the grace of God. The one drives us to our knees; the other drives us to our Savior.

In the Dark

I will trust You in the dark when I’m blinded by the rain
That pours down in my soul…
I will see with spirit eyes, see You right here by my side
You hold me. Yes, You hold me…

Oh, I know You let the darkness fall to draw me close to You
And You use what seems impossible to show what You can do
When I trust You in the dark.

I will trust You in the dark when I feel I’m all alone
And no one understands…
I will choose to find my joy in the glory of Your grace
That saved me. Yes, You saved me!

Perfect love casts out fear and Your love for me is perfect
Darkness flees at Your command so I won’t be afraid!

Oh, I know You let the darkness fall to draw me close to You
And You use what seems impossible to show what You can do
When I trust You in the dark.

The Loving Judge

The story is told of a young woman standing in court, charged with speeding well above the limit. The law required a sentence of either three days in jail or a $500 fine. The judge, being just and fair, imposed precisely such a sentence upon the teary-eyed woman. Then he did something quite remarkable.

Rising from behind the bench, he removed his judicial robe and stepped down to the clerk’s desk. He reached into his pocket for his billfold, and paid the fine for the girl! Why did he do such a thing? Well, he was her father. You see, he had no choice in imposing the sentence demanded by justice. He did, however, have the freedom to satisfy the sentence himself.

So it is with our loving Father. His justice demands that sin be punished with death. So, like the judge, God the Son rose from his place of honor, clothed Himself in humanity, and came to a manger in Bethlehem – born to die. That was His whole purpose (John 18:37). He came to satisfy the righteous demands of His own justice, so that we would escape wrath. “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly ... While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6, 8, NIV).

May we never forget that the Almighty God is the Judge of all the world. May we also never foget, however, that He is also a Father Who loves His children - so much so that He would pay the highest price that they might enjoy Him forever. Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God! (1 John 3:1)

Contemplate the Cross

I came across this quote from the Reformed theologian, Francis Turretin. I couldn't help but think that were we to spend more of our time contemplating The Passion, we would be less concerned and driven by our own passions - whatever they may be.

"As the suffering of Christ is the principal part of the ransom paid for us by him and the special foundation of our confidence and consolation, it should also be the primary object of our faith and the theme of meditation, that with Paul we may count all things for loss but the knowledge of the crucified Jesus. We should attend to it more diligently as Satan the more impotently rages to obscure the truth of those sufferings and to deprive us of their saving fruit.”

- Francis Turretin

The Father's Heart

A poll was taken, a few years back, which asked the respondents to designate the most pleasing phrases they ever hear. The pollsters then compiled the data, and reduced the answers to the top three. Here they are:

I love you.
You’re forgiven.
Supper’s ready.

Surprised? Do those three simple sentences do anything for you? Actually, they aren’t really all that simple. One requires an open heart (love won’t flow from a closed one); one requires a big heart (forgiveness takes up a lot of room – it has to swallow up anger, selfishness, and pride); and one requires a working heart (preparing a meal is an active response – anyone can say that they love you).

The call of God, the call that echoes through the canyons of time and rolls from horizon to horizon and from pole to pole, offers those sentiments to all who respond.

I love you, says God. So much so that I’d rather die than live without you.

You’re forgiven. What sin? He asks. When He looks at His children, He sees no sin – only the beauty and righteousness of Christ.

Supper’s ready. And what a feast it shall be! The Lord of all the universe has made a way for filthy, sinful humanity to be restored, and we shall celebrate this restoration forever in His presence.

In Ephesians, Paul reminds us that “…we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (2:10). The Greek word translated as “workmanship” here is poiema. This word literally means “that which is made” but has inherent in it the idea of creativity and craftsmanship. In fact, poiema came into English as “poem.” In the beginning, we were created in the image of God, and He declared His work “very good.” Those who are recreated, through faith in Christ, may once again experience that Divine craftsmanship in all of its exquisite perfection. What a privilege, what a delight to be God’s poem! How astounding to begin to grasp that we have been conceived in His mind, created by His Word, and redeemed from our rebellion by the blood of His Son. And soon – soon! – it will be “suppertime!”Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Prayer: The First Resort

I was struck the other day by the way in which a pastor made reference to prayer. Almost in passing, after hearing of a tragedy in someone’s life, he said, “Well, all we can do now is pray.”

All we can do?

Still, such a dismissive attitude toward prayer is all too often the norm – in practice, if not in theory. When we are confronted with a problem, we would much prefer to have the money or the wisdom or the medicine to correct it ourselves. We seem a bit dismayed when prayer is “all we can do.” Yet ought that not be the absolute highest and primary method of dealing with a difficult situation?

Prayer is too often regarded as a “last ditch effort” to deal with a problem. In reality, it ought to be our chief concern. From a broad perspective, prayer is an event of indescribably magnificent dimensions: for it is communion with the Almighty God of the universe. It is His world, after all, and our obstacles, while insurmountable in our own strength, are certainly no challenge to Him. And His Word makes plain His desire that we “cast all of our cares upon Him.” And how do we do that? With prayer, of course.

From a narrower and far more personal perspective, prayer is one of the most common and essential elements imaginable: it is the sustaining breath of spiritual life. To deny the soul prayer is akin to denying the body oxygen. Without it, the believer withers; with it, however, the child of God is more than a conqueror indeed. By grace (and by grace alone), we have been granted access to the One who holds the answer to every question, the solution to every dilemma. His answer, of course, may not always be the answer we want to hear. Perhaps that is why we so often try to solve the problems ourselves first. That way (we erroneously think), we might get the results we think are best. But we cannot solve anything ourselves – at least not rightly or for very long. We are helpless and hopeless apart from Him.

So prayer is, in the first instance, an act of humility. By its very nature, it is a confession: a confession that we acknowledge where the power lies. We accept that the One to whom we pray can actually do something about whatever it is that we are struggling with. However, true and effective prayer demands something else. We must not simply acknowledge that the power is His; we must admit that the authority is His, as well.

He may intervene – or not – in accordance with our best laid plans. We must not come before His throne in prayer dictating, but humbly petitioning - all the while acquiescing to His will and His purpose. Coupling this humble submission to His authority with the confession of His power will lead to an acceptance of His will for – and His work in – our lives. Prayer may effect change in our circumstances. But it will always effect change in us. Let us eagerly approach prayer as the first resort, trusting that He who loves us most knows us best and has only ultimate good in store for us.

Sola

I trust in grace alone;
It's all I've ever known
That could heal my soul
And make me whole;
I trust in grace alone.

I run to Christ alone;
His Word to me has shown
Salvation sweet
And life complete;
I run to Christ alone.

I live by faith alone;
For I could not atone
For all the wrong
That I have done;
I live by faith alone.

I worship You alone;
I bow before Your throne;
I'll fill my days
With endless praise;
I worship You alone.

The Spirit-Filled Life

In a particularly vivid illustration, Jesus spoke of the relationship of believers to the source of all our nourishment and strength: Christ Himself. Eleven times in John 15:1-17, the Greek word meno, translated abide or remain, is recorded to emphasize the importance of utter dependence upon God for our spiritual well being.

In comparing our relationship to a vineyard, we are told that Christ is the vine and we are the branches. This beautifully demonstrates the helplessness we experience without a vibrant, intimate union with the Lord. For apart from the vine with its lifegiving and life-sustaining nutrients, the branches will wither and die. Further, only insofar as the branch is receiving the flow of life from the vine can there ever be fruit. Likewise, a believer who, through active sin or passive indifference, quells the steady rhythm of nourishing power emanating from a Spirit-filled life will exhibit a life with no evidence of triumph over temptation or effective exhortation and ministry (though there must be some fruit, or the very justification must be doubted).

In this illustration, Christ says that the Father prunes all the branches that do bear fruit. The Greek word for prune can also mean “to clean.” In other words, as a particular branch dips down into the mud, the Father, as Gardener, picks it up, cleans it off, and ties it ever closer to the vine. And He prunes it. He trims back the tips of the branch that are scarred or damaged. The snip of the sharp blade of correction is often painful, but remember this: the Gardener is never closer to the branch than when He is pruning it. When God must reprove (prune) us, He doesn’t do it from the far reaches of heaven; He comes right up to us, in the Person of the Holy Spirit, and lovingly convicts, gently reshapes, and so crafts our lives to take full advantage of the flow of life from the vine: the life that was given to us when we believed the gospel of Christ.

Without the pruning of God, without the constant and abundant filling of our lives by the Holy Spirit, we may sprout a few leaves, but very little fruit. Yet we were saved “unto good works” – that is, fruit. That is what God intends to see manifested in our lives. The beauty of grace can be realized in this picture: for what role does the branch play in receiving life from the vine? Jesus could have used a different illustration. He could have said, for instance, that we are travelers in a desert and He is the oasis, thereby emphasizing the idea that we had better get to the water and be filled before we die. Instead, He used a beautiful description of total reliance upon His strength, His care, and His provision. Our role? Faith.

We are conjoined by our faith to a life that pulsates with the energy of God’s Spirit. We are reminded by our faith that whatever the circumstances – however painful the pruning process – the Gardener is at work in our lives to bring about the results He desires. And we are rewarded by our faith when our desperate longing for His presence and His power is realized. As we examine ourselves, do we find such a faith? A faith that confidently relies upon the Spirit-filled life that God has prepared for us? It is His promise to those whose lives have been formed by the Spirit that they shall be filled by the Spirit that we may exhibit a life focused on the Spirit and His marvelous plan for our lives.

The Spirit-Formed Life

I am not what I ought to be,
I am not what I want to be,
I am not what I hope to be in another world;
But still I am not what I once used to be,
And by the grace of God I am what I am.
-John Newton



To see the kingdom of God, Jesus said “...you must be born again (John 3:7).” When asked how this was possible, He responded that it was a work performed, not by man, but by the Spirit: “... the Spirit gives birth to spirit (3:6, NIV).”

Who is born again? Jesus answered, “Whoever believes in Him (3:16).” He is not saying: believe on Him and you will be born again. He is saying: if you believe on Him, you have been born again. Thus, the inevitable result of the new, Spirit-formed life is belief.

However, the belief that Jesus was speaking of here is no mere intellectual assent (i.e., a belief that) or profession which lacks conviction. He was specifically referring to a personal belief in His redeeming work on the Cross, followed by the victorious work accomplished by His literal, bodily resurrection from the dead.

A “personal belief” says not just that Jesus died for the sins of the world but that Jesus died for my sin. A personal belief humbly confesses guilt and ardently clings to mercy. A personal belief recognizes, in the blood of the Man on the Cross, the cleansing torrent of forgiveness and grace. Such who believe have truly been born again; such are truly “Spirit-formed.”

This belief, this inward conviction of truth, serves to remind us that we have indeed been born again by the Spirit of God. We were dead, but the Spirit gave us new life! We were unjust, unholy, and children of wrath; but through His grace, God gave us the righteousness of Christ and the accomplished atonement of His death and resurrection so that we might be called just, holy, and the children of God! All by His grace; all for His glory.

The king is dead. Long live the King!

With the passing of Michael Jackson yesterday, I couldn't help but notice the incessant use of the appellation "king" to describe the admittedly legendary pop icon. I was especially shocked, however, to hear the occasional reporter attempt to add a superlative adjective to the used-so-often-it-became-humdrum moniker. Some actually employed the phrase "king of kings." As a Christian, and as a wobbly follower of the true King of Kings, Jesus Christ, I was struck by how ludicrous it was to ascribe to a mere mortal - any mere mortal - such an honor. For there was, is, and ever will be only one King of all Kings. He will never be rushed to an emergency room. His "heart" will never fail.
So while so much of the world laments the passing of a man whose highest aspirations were nevertheless bound by the confines of the mortal coil off which he has shuffled, I rejoice in the knowledge that my King forever lives, forever reigns!