not another blog, v2.0

Happy 2011.

I’m doing the Bible Reading Plan for Shirkers and Slackers this year — mainly because I tend to shirk and slack. Any reader (or former reader) of this blog can attest to this.

Will you join me?

There will be a fuller post on this tomorrow. Seriously.

Listen here: http://bifrost.bandcamp.com/track/veiled-in-darkness

Veiled in darkness Judah lay,
Waiting for the promised day,
While across the shadowy night
Streamed a flood of glorious light,
Heav’nly voices chanting then,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”
Heav’nly voices chanting then,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Still the earth in darkness lies.
Up from death’s dark vale arise
Voices of a world in grief,
Prayers of men who seek relief:
Now our darkness pierce again,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”
Now our darkness pierce again,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Light of light, we humbly pray,
Shine upon Thy world today;
Break the gloom of our dark night,
Fill our souls with love and light,
Send Thy blessèd Word again,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”
Send Thy blessèd Word again,
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”

(words: Douglas L. Rights, 1915 — melody: “Aberystwyth”, Joseph Parry, 1879)

I’ve been doing some study on the Sacraments lately — particularly on John Calvin’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper — and the often spoken-of concept of “union with Christ” keeps coming up. Most of the times that I’ve heard and read about union with Christ, it’s in one of two senses: either that union that comes when one comes to believe the Gospel (ie: “being saved” or “salvific union”), or that final and full union that believers will experience at Christ’s return and eternally thereafter (“eschatological union”).

Seems to me, though, that there’s a third sense — distinct from, but closely related to, the first — of “union with Christ” that’s rarely spoken of (at least in those terms): that union with Christ that comes by being united to a local church. That union can start at a number of points in one’s life. For some, it begins at infancy when their parents raise them in the church. (And for those of us in the Reformed tradition, that union is signified and sealed at a child’s baptism.) For others, it begins after they’ve been connected to a church through regular participation with them and have formed good relationships with and within that body, whether or not they yet believe. (There’s something to be said for “belonging before believing.”) For still others, it could begin after they’ve already come to faith in Christ (through a parachurch organization or having the Gospel proclaimed to them by a friend), and then they find a church to be a part of.

It’s interesting to me that, in all three of the above examples, this sense of union with Christ is wholly independent of whether or not an individual has yet (or will ever) come to believe the Gospel. If that’s the case, is it really union with Christ?

I’d say “yes.” Union with Christ’s people is indeed true union with Christ. No, it’s not salvific union, just as salvific union isn’t the same as eschatological union… but it’s true union with Christ nonetheless. Maybe it’s a difference of degree — or something like the difference between dating, engagement, and marriage. (Not a perfect analogy, I know.)

Just some scattered thoughts. Am I out to lunch? Is it too confusing to use the term in this way? What do you think?

I am ASTONISHED that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel— not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again…

If ANYONE is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, LET HIM BE ACCURSED.
(Galatians 1:6-9 ESV)

(NOTE: This is a repost of the first and only entry from my “Heidelberg Musings” two years ago. I’m re-starting the series on a one-post-per-week basis.)

–

Q1: What is your only comfort in life and in death?

“Comfort” – in some sense or another, comfort is probably the most fundamental human desire. More fundamental than our desire for love and relationship, for food, for wealth, for pleasure, for anything. In fact, meeting any of these desires is just a means to an end: our comfort. Whether we’re having a long talk with a good friend, popping pills, going to the shrink, or drinking a latté, we’re ultimately doing it for our comfort. We hate to be uncomfortable in any sense, and everything that we do is designed to get us back to that place of comfort. I guess that’s why the writers of the Heidelberg Catechism decided to address comfort in the very first question. It resonated with their first readers in 17th-century Holland, and it resonates with us today.

A1: That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyrrany of the devil. He also preserves me in such a way that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, all things must work together for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit He assures me of eternal life and makes me willing and ready from now on to live for Him.

Jesus, in every sense imaginable, is the definitive answer to our discomfort. We can rest in him, knowing that we are his, our debts are forever paid, and that even in the midst of doubt and suffering, he sovereignly orders our steps (and others’) and works them together for our good and his glory.

Q2: What do you need to know in order to live and die in the joy of this comfort?

It’s one thing to be comforted. It another to have “joy” in being comforted. Joy requires a constant awareness of just how bad-off you were beforehand, and an equally constant awareness of how great your comfort is now. Those two things not only naturally produce joy, but thankfulness.

A2: First, how great my sins and misery are; second, how I am delivered from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to be thankful to God for such deliverance.

Yeah, probably not.  Almost two years ago, I ventured to start a blog series, working my way through the 129 questions of the Heidelberg Catechism, over a series of 52 entries. (The original intent was one-per-day for 52 days.)

I got through one. I’m a slacker, but when I slack, I slack HARD.

Anyway, we’re going to try this again, this time over a period of one year (one entry per week), as the Catechism was designed to be studied. Starting with a repost of that first-and-only entry from 2008, I’ll be posting the comments, meditations, and questions that arise in my mind as I study this great document.

Hope you come along. This time will be better.

(Disclaimer – Unless you’re on the same crazy wavelength I am tonight, parts of this may not make any sense or may be plain wrong.)

I’ve been haunted — nagged, almost — by this idea of “Gospel Transformation” lately. The idea that the Gospel — the Good News that Christ, through his death, burial, resurrection, and reign, is bringing Kingdom of God to fruition — is not just news to be heard, and not even just news to be believed, but news that actually transforms. Instead of waiting to be acted upon, this news acts upon us (and everything around us).

Crazy.

I tweeted some thoughts on this (in 140-character-or-less bites, of course) a little while ago. Some “highlights” . . .

The church — the LOCAL church — is to be an agent of Gospel transformation in the lives of individuals, in the city, and in the world. (#)

“Gospel transformation” is that change that takes place when the Good News of Christ’s Kingdom comes to bear on whatever it will. (#)

“Gospel transformation” is not a one-time change, but a God-initiated, God-advanced, God-achieved process. (#)

“Gospel transformation” is not limited to individual lives & souls, but extends to families, neighborhoods, cities, and the whole world. (#)

“Gospel transformation” (generally) flows, however, from individuals out to further & larger spheres (family->neighborhood->city->world). (#)

As Jesus takes his royal throne in his peoples’ hearts, transforming them, they are then released for mission as his Kingdom agents. (#)

“Gospel transformation” will find its completion in the victory of Christ over his enemies and the full renewal of his people and world. (#)

Until then — the Second Advent of Christ — we work, wait, and say “Come, Lord Jesus!” (#)

At our church, we often say “Grace Changes Everything”. That phrase has become something of a rallying cry for us. Grace — the unmerited, undeserved, unwarranted love and favor that God gives through the Gospel — really does change everything. Not just “us”, though it certainly does change us. It’s only through believing the Gospel that anyone is taken from spiritual death to spiritual life. It’s only through believing the Gospel that anyone is freed from the bondage of sin and freed to LIVE. It’s only through believing the Gospel that anyone will ever be reconciled to God. Grace truly does change us.

I once thought that was the end of the story. Repent of sin, believe the Gospel, Jesus saves you, and now you go on and do the best you can, asking Jesus to forgive you when you mess up along the way until you die and “go to Heaven.”

Wrong. Grace changes everything.

The Good News isn’t just the news that God’s Son died on a cross for our sins and rose for our salvation (though that’s certainly a BIG part of it). The Good News is this — the King and his Kingdom are here. The King and his Kingdom are coming. Jesus wins. Jesus is setting and will set all things right. He is bringing his reign of eternal shalom to bear on all of Creation. And as if this News wasn’t enough, he calls his people to participate in the bringing of this Kingdom to bear! Not that we somehow “partner” with God, as if we’re his equals, but that we — as individuals and as we gather in local congregations — are his agents, affecting this transformation. Through his regenerated people, God is establishing his Kingdom.

Think about it. You, Christian, are working to bring the Kingdom of God when you . . .
- worship with God’s people
- pray
- call an unbelieving friend to repent and believe
- show hospitality
- teach someone viable job skills
- buy a homeless guy a meal
- create something beautiful
- work with integrity
- et cetera and so on

These are ways in which God is making our neighborhoods, cities, and the world look a little bit more and more like the coming Kingdom every day, and he’s elected to use broken, jacked-up imbeciles like us to do it. Crazy.

The Gospel is news that transforms. If Grace has changed you, then heed God’s call to change things.

Z got glasses for school. Turns out she’s a bit nearsighted, so she’s only supposed to wear them to see distant objects (such as her teacher’s writing on the board). But of course, she wants to wear them all the time, because (as she says) “they’re cute!”

I’ve never seen someone so excited to have imperfect vision.

I obviously don’t talk much here anymore, and it seems that when I do, I’m talking about preaching. This is no exception.

Greg, our pastor at Grace Central, has been on a much-needed and well-earned sabbatical for the last couple of months, so preaching duties have fallen to myself and our super-fantastic church planting intern (and new dad), Joe Haack. (This is not a joke. He really is super-fantastic.)

Anyway, this last three weeks of the sabbatical, I’ve taken on a series focusing on Christ’s work as our Prophet, Priest, and King.  Naturally, I’ve bungled the recording of the first two sermons — the first one (“Prophet”), I just forgot to start recording before I stepped up to the pulpit, and the second (“Priest”), I forgot that the MacBook we usually use to record wouldn’t be at the church, so I neglected to bring mine.

So, here’s another sermon manuscript for you, this time on Christ as our Priest. This was preached this morning.
Continue reading →

Last night, I posted this brief, pithy quote on Twitter.

@RaeWhitlock: “The preaching of the Word of God *is* the Word of God.” (#)

After which, I went to the living room to hang out with Amy for a few hours, and then went to bed. What I woke up to this morning on Twitter were a few surprised and surprising responses . . .

@sagethefool: @RaeWhitlock Who in the world said that? In what context could that possibly be true? (#)

@TravisSeitler: @RaeWhitlock That is theologically (and just plain logically) wrong. (#)

@rschmidtberger: @RaeWhitlock do we really want to say that the preacher’s words are Gods words? ideally sermons should be full of biblical truth (#)

Understandable responses, though. A lot of guys (and gals, for that matter) have said some pretty whack stuff under the guise of “preaching”. Surely we don’t want to attribute the words of some of those jokers to God himself, right?

So where’d this audacious and almost-heretical-sounding phrase come from? Glad you asked. It’s from an early Reformed confessional document called the Second Helvetic Confession.

In context . . .

THE PREACHING OF THE WORD OF GOD IS THE WORD OF GOD. Wherefore when this Word of God is now preached in the church by preachers lawfully called, we believe that the very Word of God is proclaimed, and received by the faithful; and that neither any other Word of God is to be invented nor is to be expected from heaven: and that now the Word itself which is preached is to be regarded, not the minister that preaches; for even if he be evil and a sinner, nevertheless the Word of God remains still true and good.

Neither do we think that therefore the outward preaching is to be thought as fruitless because the instruction in true religion depends on the inward illumination of the Spirit, or because it is written “And no longer shall each man teach his neighbor…, for they shall all know me” (Jer. 31:34), And “Neither he who plants nor he that waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth” (I Cor. 3:7). For although “No one can come to Christ unless he be drawn by the Father” (John 6:44), And unless the Holy Spirit inwardly illumines him, yet we know that it is surely the will of God that his Word should be preached outwardly also. God could indeed, by his Holy Spirit, or by the ministry of an angel, without the ministry of St. Peter, have taught Cornelius in the Acts; but, nevertheless, he refers him to Peter, of whom the angel speaking says, “He shall tell you what you ought to do.”

Context makes it more clear. When a preacher preaches Scripture in such a way that is faithful to its true meaning, we can be assured that the Holy Spirit is at work, and that his people are receiving the very Word of God from his mouth. This does not mean that preachers are infallible or incapable of error. By no means. What it does mean, though, is that hearers of that Word can and should be assured that, so long as the Bible is preached faithfully, God himself speaks to them in the preaching event.

Perhaps a way to phrase it that’d be more readily understood by today’s readers would be “The Word of God preached is the Word of God.” I dunno. I like the original phrasing, myself.

Thoughts?