Pride

I just picked up a book that came out last month called, Why Were Not Emergent. It's by two young evangelicals who voice their concerns and confusions about what's come to be called Emerg(ent/ing) Christianity. I'm only about halfway through it so far, but there are a couple of things that I've found very helpful.

One of the first things that struck me about the book was Ted's (one of the authors) irreverence for what he calls a kind of "groupieism" (p 93). He points out that there are just as many people who come close to idolizing people like John Piper, R. C. Sproul, and Mark Driscoll (of whom I may or may not have from time to time been one), as there are who come close to idolizing people like McLaren, Campolo, and Rob Bell.

I'm very glad that he has pointed this out. It helped me see some of my own hypocrisy, which I've glimpsed before and tried sweeping under the rug.

The other thing that hit me hard was a paragraph in Ted's chapter, "A Funeral for a Friend". In the context of a funeral for a blue-collar teacher which was attended by a diverse audience he make the following observation:

I am reminded that there are still churches and places in this country where one doesn't have to work at being "authentic." Authentic isn't a look you put on in the morning, or a new and snappy way to bathe the sanctuary in "mystery" through the strategic arrangement of candles and projected images. Authentic is bearing one another's burdens. Authentic is people coming to a funeral in their work clothes -- Carhartts, hospital scrubs, etc. -- on a Friday morning.

How often have I striven to "put on" authenticity.

Authenticity was one of the main things that first drew me to the emerging culture. It's something that many people who are drawn to the same see lacking in their own surroundings. And in themselves.

But I don't become authentic by trying to become something new. I don't become authentic by trying, period. I become authentic by being honest with myself. By taking off, rather than "putting on".

But how can such a wicked heart be honest? I know I ought not want to be seen by others. "Seeking glory" is what I think they used to call it.

Later on in the same chapter, Ted remembers a time at a conference where a Christian author takes questions from the typical young, artsy, hip-Christian types. Ted describes the group as trying to "out-deep" each other with their questions. I laughed at myself when I read this. I remember a few years back attending a couple lectures at the Cornerstone Festival in Bushnell, IL. One of them was by Brian McLaren and one was by a professor of philosphy at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School about existentialism and Christianity. Both scenes were similar to what Ted describes. An open air discussion under a tent. The speakers would speak for a while and then entertain questions -- some good and interesting, some reeking of intellectual pretension . . . and some, like mine, trying desperately to sound as deep and discerning as the others.

I can't help it. I like it when people think that I'm smart. I like to feel smart. You see, I'm incredibly egotistical. This is something that God has begun slowly to reveal to me in the past few years. I say slowly because judging by what I've realized so far, I wouldn't be able to believe the depths of my conceit were the blow not softened by incremental revelation. I can laugh about it sometimes, only because I believe God is redeeming me from it. But it is pretty ridiculous.

So then, I do seek glory. Not always, but too often. It just sort of stirs up within me, this desire to be praised. God save me from this.

You say, "It's human!"

It's wicked! It's sin.

I don't want it anymore . . . but sometimes I do.

Who will rescue me from this body of death?

On a Lighter Note . . .

I Want to be Born-Again, But no Matter How Hard I Try . . .

You know you're a nerd when you're combing the internet for sermons and audio lectures to load onto your Zune . . .

About a week ago, I was looking for some good sermons to replace the vacancy left in my routine now that one of my favorite programs, Issues, Etc. has been canceled. I was looking around on SermonAudio.com and found a couple high rated sermons by a guy named Paul Washer. I'd never heard of him and I was a little skeptical, but I figured if his sermon was top-rated, I should check it out.

I gotta be honest, after listening to that first sermon, I was hooked. I love this guy. I don't always agree with everything he says, but he says a lot of things that I certainly need to hear.

This guy knows how to shatter false assurance.

Give him a chance . . .




This video ticks a lot of people off. People don't like to hear that it's difficult to come to Christ. It doesn't groove with their image of a God who is following them everywhere with arms wide open, just waiting for them to give him permission to save them.

I don't know how to come to Christ.

I've been trying to do it for the better part of 23 years. It didn't take long for me to want to. As long as I can remember, I've "wanted" to be good. I've "wanted" to be holy; I've "wanted" to love God. I've wanted to cry out to Christ as if hell (or death, if you prefer) was opening up for me.

I'm trying, but for some reason . . . my efforts don't seem to be getting me very far.

An Evangelical Manifesto

So they rolled out the final draft today.  A committee of Evangelical leaders including the likes of Timothy George and Dallas Willard released their draft of An Evangelical Manifesto.

A couple brief initial reactions as I just finished reading it and am about to head to work:

• My overall reaction positive.  It seems to me that the Manifesto communicates well a desirable reconsideration of Evangelicalism.  I would also say that most people who think of themselves as Evangelicals would have little to say in disagreement with the committee's definitions.  The Manifesto astutely recognizes a few of the major problems within Evangelicalism and its developing trends.  Distancing myself from the label of "Evangelical" for precisely these reasons, I found a smile curling up under my nose as I read the following:
  

  All too often we have trumpeted the gospel of Jesus, but we have replaced biblical truths with therapeutic techniques, worship with entertainment, discipleship with growth in human potential, church growth with business entrepreneurialism, concern for the church and for the local congregation with expressions of the faith that are churchless and little better than a vapid spirituality, meeting real needs with pandering to felt needs, and mission principles with marketing precepts. In the process we have become known for commercial, diluted, and feel-good gospels of health, wealth, human potential, and religious happy talk, each of which is indistinguishable from the passing fashions of the surrounding world. 
  

• It ain't gonna be easy. I can appreciate the goals set forth in the Manifesto, as I'm sure many others can also. The problem is that the Evangelicalism that the Manifesto is confronting is the Evangelicalism that in large part is taught and modeled in most churches – at least in my part of the country. If we are going to have any hope to correct our course, not only will this common form of Evangelicalism have to be confronted at the local level, but people will also have to be taught, at the local level, how to embrace and pursue these goals set forth. We don't know how to do what we haven't been taught. This brings a great deal of responsibility to the local congregations and their pastors. However, it will be worth it. I long for the day when this will be the voice of the majority of Evangelicals:
  

  Unlike some other religious believers, we do not see insults and attacks on our faith as "offensive" and "blasphemous" in a manner to be defended by law, but as part of the cost of our discipleship that we are to bear without complaint or victim-playing.
  

 

Evangelicals have too long been the "martyrs" of American Civil Religion. It's time we suck it up and share in the fellowship of Christ's sufferings along with our brothers and sisters around the world.

 

That last point may be a bit overstated but it's something that jumped out at me as I was reading the document. I'll maybe have more comments as I look through the accompanying study guide – yes, a study guide.

Thoughts on Genesis 3 . . . or “A Man, a Woman and One Unlucky Cow”

So I was reading through Genesis three and every time I do, I come to the same question . . .

What's so wrong with being naked?

I really want to believe that our hang-ups with nudity are cultural, but it seems like there's something more here. It seems like the author is trying to make a point about their nakedness. In my culture, nudity is shunned either because of sexual arousal or because a person is self-conscious about their body. But this couldn't be the case with Adam and Eve. It's not like they were ugly naked, right? I mean what did they have to compare themselves to?

It also seems unlikely that they simply realized that they didn't have anything covering their bodies. They would have known that. Maybe what they realized was the significance of not having anything to cover their bodies. But what was that significance?! Why were they ashamed? After all, this was the state in which God had created them and he said that it was very good. So what changed?

Obviously they were now aware of evil and sin, but how did this relate to their nakedness?

I haven't been able to come up with any very good answers. So far, it seems like the most likely explanation at least relates to the one that I've always heard. It seems obvious that this shame has something to do with their new experience of "evil".

It is interesting to note something new in this story. There was a motif developed in chapter one. The phrase "And God saw that it was good," appears five times in the opening creation poem. And the adjective "good" is used seven times in the chapter to describe God's work. The word for good in these verses is the Hebrew word tov. It is used over and over again in the same formula so that it sticks out in your mind. Then in chapter two, it appears in a new way. In chapter two it is contrasted with another word, ra', the Hebrew word that is translated in chapter two, verse nine as "evil". So after this motif of "good" develops, it is then contrasted with "evil". The two are presented as opposites. A more accurate way to translate the word for evil, ra', may be "badness". In English the opposite of good is bad. So, the opposite of goodness may be said to be "badness". The word ra' does not necessarily denote sin the way that the word "evil" tends to do for us today. Ra' simply contrasts with good. It can also mean destruction, misery, and trouble.

The point is that as tov is used to describe the quality of God's work, the word ra' is used to describe the quality of man's work outside of God's direction. When God works and acts, the result is goodness and beauty. God guides and directs us so that we may also work goodness and beauty. However, when we act outside of God's direction, the result is ra'. It is badness.

So now that ra' has entered the story of humanity, it has somehow changed Adam and Eve and their comfort with nudity. Adam and Eve have experienced evil, and that is why they are ashamed. So why then do they cover their bodies? The reason may be a demonstration of just how differently Adam and Eve and the ancient Israelites viewed the relationship of the body and the soul. If Adam and Eve believed that the body and the soul were truly one, then it would only be natural to cover the body in order to hide the shame they felt. They weren't just covering their bodies; they were covering their whole selves – their souls. They had no way to cover just the spiritual part of themselves; they had to cover their entire selves.

So this is the best explanation I have for why Adam and Eve felt it necessary to cover their nakedness when their eyes were open. I'm not satisfied with it and I'm going to keep digging until I find more, but that's what I got for now.

Now when Adam and Eve make coverings for themselves out of fig leaves, for some reason God did not think that this was enough. Out of his kindness he made garments of skin for Adam and Eve. Now there are a couple places that my curiosity wonders at this point. First, I began (as a result of listening to someone else's commentary on this verse – I don't remember whose) to consider where these skins came from. Where did the material for these garments come from? Was there skin just lying around? Did God create the skin right there on the spot as he very well could have? Or did God kill an animal and skin it, in order to make the garments to cover Adam and Eve's nakedness?

If an animal did in fact die to make the garments for Adam and Eve, there is a wealth of theological significance here. This would be the first example of death coming into the world through sin. It would be by the sin of Adam and Eve that this animal died to provide the skin for their garments, and this would be a significant foreshadowing of Christ who would have to die in order to cover our sin and shame. That is, if an animal had to die.

I say "if" because it seems that if this was the case, and it was such a significant theological point, the author would have mentioned it. But as it is, the author tells us nothing of where the skin came from. Now perhaps the author was recording the history of the event and did not mention where it came from because only in hindsight is it significant that something would have to die to cover the shame of Adam and Eve. So perhaps we cannot be certain whether we are justified in making this assumption.

One thing that we can conclude from this action, however, is that God is infinitely merciful and kind. Even as he banishes mankind from his presence, he provides a covering for them as they go. He does not cast them out to fend for themselves. The great plan of redemption is just beginning to unfold. He will still be their God, and they will still be his people. He will make a way for them to be reconciled to him.

A Scripture Reading for April 23, 2008

Genesis 9:8-17

This is the first time I've posted my SOAP, I was actually going to skip over this one because as I initially read through it, I thought to myself, I don't see how I'm going to really learn anything from this. Believe it or not this happens to me a lot. But when I discovered the gospel in this passage I decided I probably ought to put it up here. You can't hear the gospel too many times, ya know.

Observations:

• Context: Because of the corruption of "all flesh", God has just sent a flood to destroy life on the earth. God chose a righteous remnant in Noah and his family and the accompanying animals through whom to repopulate the Earth. God now blesses Noah and his descendants, reiterating to them the blessings and exhortations he gave to man at creation (providing food, "be fruitful and multiply"). Finally, God establishes his covenant with all life that never again will all life/the earth be destroyed by the waters of the flood.
• "Now behold, I Myself do establish My covenant with you." God requires no stipulations on the part of creation. He is making this promise to us. He requires nothing from us, and there is nothing that we can do to break this covenant, forfeiting the promise.
• "Never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of the flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." There are two aspects to the promise. In Genesis 3, after the sin of man, God explains the consequences of their sin. Both mankind and the earth suffer the consequences of sin. Later, in Genesis 6, God says "I have determined to make an end to all flesh . . . Behold, I will destroy them with the earth." Presumably, as a result of sin entering the world, the earth and all flesh have become so corrupt that God determines to "blot" them both out. Yet after the flood, in chapter 8, God says, "Never again will I curse the ground because of man, even though the inclination of his heart is evil from his youth." In this covenant God is promising to us that, even though we are still sinful, he has purified what we have defiled.
• "This is a guarantee [sign] of the covenant I am making with you . . . I will place my bow in the clouds." The sign of a covenant serves a few different purposes. First, it is a guarantee as the New English Translation puts it. This is similar to the signing of a contract today. The sign of the contract is the signature. The signature guarantees that the contract is agreed to and will be kept. In the same way, God guarantees that he will keep the promises he makes to Noah by placing his rainbow in the clouds. In a way, his rainbow is his signature on this contract or covenant. Insofar as the sign represents a signature which guarantees that both parties agree to and will keep the contract/covenant, it is interesting that God does not require Noah (or all living things) to "sign" the covenant. This goes to show that the covenant which God is making is a promise, not a contract. God requires nothing from Noah (or all living things). Secondly, the sign also serves as a reminder to both parties, of the stipulations of the covenant. God says that when the rainbow appears, he will remember his covenant with Noah and with all living things. But the rainbow does not just remind God, it also reminds creation. Interestingly, God sets his "bow" in the "clouds". There is a lot of imagery behind these two words, particularly since they're being used together. The word for "rainbow" in this passage is qeshet. It's the same Hebrew word that's used to refer to a hunter's bow or a warrior's bow. There is a sense of judgment associated with the bow of God. The same can be said for the use of "clouds". Clouds often accompany God's intervening presence in this world. Clouds are often mentioned in the theophany accounts. They are also used extensively when God describes impending judgment. If clouds provoked the idea of judgment for the Hebrews, then there is much significance in God placing the reassuring sign of his covenant in the "clouds" of judgment.

Application:

• The flood story is a beautiful foreshadowing of baptism. In this baptism of the flood, sin and corruption are figuratively blotted out. Noah points to Christ in this story. Had God not preserved a remnant of humanity in Noah, all humanity would have perished in the flood. But God provides a Savior in the time of judgment. My Savior is Christ. It is in him that I am sheltered from the flood of God's judgment. And now that judgment has fallen on Christ, those who find their salvation in him may share in his promises. And so in this story we see that "all flesh" which found their salvation in the ark also share in the promises God makes to Noah.

• When I think about God, I think about Christ, and when I think about Christ, I think about what man was supposed to be. I am a sinner, I always have been. It's difficult to take an honest look at my sin, not just my sins, but that SNAFU within me that drives me to sin. In part, it's difficult because the very sin that I am trying to take an honest look at actually skews my vision. It hides just how disgusting and heinous the sin within me is. Or maybe it's God's grace that keeps me from seeing how utterly jacked-up sin has rendered me. Maybe if I saw my sin in all its (what's the opposite of glory?) I would find my condition so incredibly corrupt that I would be tempted to doubt the sufficiency of what Christ has done for me.
  

• It's good for me to take time to notice my sin. There are a lot of preachers out there who want to downplay sin or ignore it all together because they think it will bring people down and make them feel hopeless and depressed. They want to be encouraging and uplifting. That's great, but I think it's misguided. The genius of the gospel is in how it is a bridge between the two. I regularly listen to a podcast called Issues, Etc. In a discussion of this sort, the host mentioned that until you preach the law in all of its sternness, you can't preach the gospel in all of it's glory. The idea is that until we're given a proper picture of what sin is and who we are as sinners, we cannot fully appreciate what Christ did for us. It is very scary to submit to the condemnation of the law, but if I do, I know that there is good news on the other side. Christ's life and death was more than enough to rescue me from that condemnation, but if I don't realize what I'm being rescued from, how can I fully appreciate what Christ has done?

The Gospel According to Genesis 9:8-17

When the Holy Spirit convicts us of our sinful condition, we see that we are unrighteous. We face the judgment of God's law. And so we see the storm clouds of the law gathering to bring judgment upon us, but we need not hide from them. We can look right into them and see the sign of his covenant, the cross. When we see the cross, we can know that God sent his Son to live the life that we were supposed to live. When we see the cross we can know that God sent his Son to take the judgment that we have earned. When we see the cross, we can know that while Jesus lived that perfect life, we were in him. And when he died that death that we earned for ourselves, we were also in him. Judgment has come, but it has come to Christ on our behalf. He faced the waters of the flood in our place, and he offers his to us his life in exchange for ours.

So I really hate it when I start to write a short little post about something new that's going on and it just gets longer and longer and pretty soon it's time to go take a shower for work and now I have to save the post as a draft and hopefully when I come back I'll be able to get into the same frame of mind I was before I left so that I can finish the post and have it make sense . . .