Skip to content

First Post

Who is this Spirit-Anointed Champion?

The Baptism and the Temptations go hand in hand.

Just as Israel passed through the waters and into the wilderness (and this was a baptism - 1 Cor 10:1ff), so the True Israel, Jesus, would pass through the waters of baptism and into the wilderness.  Note also that the Spirit takes charge in both cases (see, for instance, Nehemiah 9:19-20.  Interestingly the Spirit and the pillar are mentioned in the same breath...)

The devil's fiery arrows are aimed directly at the baptismal declaration.  The Father had said:

"This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased."

The devil keeps asking, "If you are the Son of God..."

So what does it mean to be the Son of God?  Well the words at baptism are reminiscent of at least three OT Scriptures.

First, Genesis 22:2

God said, "Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about."

The beloved son is to be the atoning sacrifice on the holy hill.

Second, Psalm 2:6,7

"I have poured out my King on Zion, my holy hill."  I will proclaim the decree of the LORD : He said to me, "You are my Son; today I have become your Father.

The beloved son is to be the King poured out like a drink offering on the holy hill.

Third, Isaiah 42:1

"Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him and he will bring justice to the nations.

The beloved son is the suffering servant who will bring justice to the world through weakness (see the rest of the servant songs).

The devil's words in the wilderness go to the heart of Christ's identity as Son of God.  Satan - ever the theologian of glory - tempts Jesus to be the Son of God who avoids sacrifice and weakness.  Jesus - the true theologian of the cross - embraces this sacrifice and weakness precisely because He is the true Son of God.

As we'll see...

(next post here)

.

18

In Matthew 4:1-11, Christ is driven by the Spirit into the desert. In His battle with Satan, Christ is like Adam, like Israel and like David.

Like Adam, the devil confronts Him with audible temptations to doubt God's word and eat.  And like Adam the fate of humanity rests on His shoulders.

Like Israel, He is called 'Son of God', and goes through the waters straight into a wilderness trial.  Where they caved in to temptation over 40 years, Christ would be the true Israel, resisting temptation over 40 days.

Like David, He's just been anointed and now faces a giant, man-to-man, whose 40 days of taunts reproach the God of Heaven.  And like David, Christ's victory would mean victory for His people.

Adam failed.  Israel failed.  But Christ, the anointed King goes to battle for His people.  He steps up as Adam - the True Man.  As the Son of God - the True Israel.  As David - our Spirit-filled Champion.  And through apparent weakness He slays the giant who has dismayed and defeated us at every turn.  His triumph is our triumph.

Christ's temptations are not in Scripture to model for us a three point primer in spiritual warfare!  They narrate for us the actual victory of our Anointed Champion.  This is not Jesus your Example.  Not primarily.  This is Jesus who has taken your humanity to Himself, who has become Himself the true people of God and who has waged war on our behalf.

If you only see  'Jesus our Example' you lose the gospel and put yourself at centre stage.  If you see 'Jesus our Champion' you get the example thrown in.  But fundamentally your eyes are taken from yourself and fixed where they should be:

When Satan tempts me to despair

And tells me of the guilt within

Upward I look and see HIM there

Who made an end of all my sin

.

Christ in the Wilderness 2

Christ in the Wilderness 3

Christ in the Wilderness 4

Christ in the Wilderness 5

.

Since the earthquake - more than one million have died worldwide.  150 000 per day.  Every day without fail a Haiti-sized disaster strikes.  This is not to play down the horror of this crisis.  It's to awaken us to a daily horror that we accept all too readily.  56 million people - that's almost the whole UK population - return to dust every year.  And I will be one of those statistics.  Sometime this century.  I live on a fault line every bit as treacherous as the Enriquillo-Plantain Garden fault zone.  No house could ever be structurally sound enough.  This world will be the death of me.

'Not one stone will be left on another, every one will be thrown down' said Jesus about the house of God (Mark 13:2).  This was just the start of a top-down judgement.  First the flesh and blood House of God was torn apart on the cross.  Then the brick and mortar house of God in AD70.  One day it will be God's house - the whole cosmos - that comes crashing down.  The stars from the heavens, the sky torn in two, the moon turned to blood.  It's scheduled for demolition.

Can you imagine how the disciples would have viewed the temple after Mark 13?  For the next 40 years they would visit the temple (e.g. Acts 2:46) but they would never again be taken in by its 'massive stones' and 'magnificent buildings (Mark 13:1).  They knew it was about to be shaken to its foundations.

We know that earth and heaven will be shaken (Heb 12:27-28).  And in the meantime, we see portents.  Earthquakes (Mark 13:8).  This is the world that we know.  Tsunamis destroy, volcanoes erupt, plagues devour, cyclones flatten, wildfires rage and the very earth upon which we stand quakes.

But here's a surprise.  Jesus doesn't call these 'death-throes'.  He calls them 'birth-pains'. (Mark 13:8)  Because the demolition to which we are heading is, in fact, a palingenesia - the renewal of all things. (Matt 19:28)  This top-down judgement is for the sake of a top-down resurrection.

We're heading towards 'the end' - the goal of all things (Mark 13:7,13); summer (v27); the cloud of His presence (v26); gathering (v27) and the power and glory of the Son of Man (v26).  We're heading for a new heavens and new earth - a kingdom that 'cannot be shaken' (Heb 12:28).

May this earthquake awaken true compassion in us - (here are some places to give money).  May the Body of Christ speak boldly of the Redeemer from all evil (Genesis 48:16) and demonstrate His suffering love in the midst.

But may we also reconsider our own precarious position.  This ground is not solid.  Not right now anyway.  It will be shaken and it groans under the weight of sin and curse.  It will rise up to strike me down and swallow me whole.  Yet so often I marvel at the 'massive stones' and' magnificent buildings' of 'this present evil age.'  I cosy up in the demolition site.

May we wake again to the reality of a whole world under judgement.  May seeing these deaths re-ignite our hatred of death.  Every day the tragedy of Haiti is repeated the world over.  But mostly we try to ignore that the last enemy is swallowing everything we love!  Let us wake up and snort with indignation at the grave the way Jesus did (John 11:33-38).

And then, through the lens of His resurrection may we look to the most audacious hope - a new Haiti, secure, prosperous, radiant, gathered under the wings of the Son of Man, every tear wiped away by the Father Himself.

The non-Christian can hope for nothing greater than 'safer' buildings on the same old fault line.  And as they labour admirably for this, many will ask why God does not seem to be cooperating with their desire to pretty up the demolition site.  They plan to build some lovely houses on this sand and they imagine God to be standing in the way of their saving purposes.  Of course it's the other way around.  And of course it's we who have a small view of redemption.

The Lord has a salvation so audacious He can call earthquakes 'birth-pains'.  (As can Paul - Rom 8:22).  Certainly they are birth-pains.  But they are birth-pains.  Jesus has a redemption so all-embracing that it will include even these evils.  It won't simply side-step Haiti, or make the best of a bad situation, it will (somehow!) lift Haiti through this calamity and birth something more glorious out of the pain.

We know this because Jesus began the cosmic shake-down with His own destruction.  And He was perfected through this suffering (Heb 2:10).  His death (Matt 27:54) and His resurrection (Matt 28:2) were attended by earthquakes - they were the original earth-shattering events.  And through this death and resurrection was birthed a new creation reality beyond death and decay (1 Cor 15:54-57).  Where the Head has gone, we will follow, and the whole creation with us.  And as Christ bears and exalts the wounds of His own suffering into eternity, somehow the evils of this last week will also be caught up into resurrection glory.

I don't pretend to know how and I don't pretend that this answers our grief or our questions.  It's the answer of faith and not sight.  But, unlike the answer according to 'sight', this answer takes us deeper into the tragedy - we all face this fate (Luke 13:4-5!).  And it points us much higher to its redemption.

.

.

My sermon on Mark 13 from last year

.

.

I was recently discussing original sin with some people who disagreed with it.  It seemed to them something like the doctrine that 'God hates babies'.  Fumbling around for what to say, I eventually settled on this.

If you buy into the 'born neutral' position, you're living in a world in which performance is everything.  God's waiting with a clip-board to assess how you develop the 'blank slate' He's given you.

If you go for the 'born in sin' position, you're living in a world in which God's grace to sinners is everything.  It's all about His forgiveness, not our good behaviour.

The bible says "God has bound all people over to disobedience so that He may have mercy on them all." (Romans 11:32) Original sin is actually all about the mercy of God.

Initially original sin may sound like the harsh option.  Actually the 'born neutral' position is the really harsh doctrine.  Especially once you become aware of your own sin.

If I've failed to convince you that 'original sin' is what the bible teaches, can I at least convince you that ongoing sin is true in your own life?  And if you realize that ongoing sin is a problem for you, let me ask you which world you'd rather live in - the world of performance or the world of grace?

.

Last week at youth club it was pandemonium.  We had to ban 3/4 of the kids for this week.

So tonight we were expecting small numbers.  But not as small as it turned out.  Only four turned up.  And three of them had actually been banned the week before and should not have been there.  The one legitimate member was desperate that we let in her three mates.

What should we do?  Should we let them all in even though word would get around that our 'no' doesn't mean 'no' (these kids really need to learn boundaries!)?  Or should we stand on principle, keep the three out and admit the one girl who really didn't want to be the only kid in the club?

Well the other youth leaders know I'm a soft touch, so before I caved in and let everyone come they issued a firm 'no' and we ran the club with five leaders and one youth.  The one youth was not happy.  She neither spoke nor joined in any of the activities.  Sigh.

It was only as we left that I realised the right course of action.  See as we left, the three banned youth were still hanging around church property - they had nothing else to do on a Thursday night.  And then it struck me - I should have gone out and joined them in their exile.  Wouldn't that have been the Christmas thing to do?

Wouldabeen great!  We would be telling them, Our no means no - they can't come in.  But nonetheless, I will go out to them.  If they can't come in to hear the word of life I'll go out into their cold, dark banishment and bring it to them.

And so I kicked myself all the way home.  Why didn't I think of that earlier?  But as I was berating myself, a plan began to form...  In future, I'll ban 'em all just so that the following week I can join them in it!  Cunning huh?

Which brings me to the moral of this story: Don't trust the supralapsarian youth leader.

.

.

Last week at youth club it was pandemonium.  We had to ban 3/4 of the kids for this week.

So tonight we were expecting small numbers.  But not as small as it turned out.  Only four turned up.  And three of them had actually been banned the week before and should not have been there.  The one legitimate member was desperate that we let in her three mates.

What should we do?  Should we let them all in even though word would get around that our 'no' doesn't mean 'no' (these kids really need to learn boundaries!)?  Or should we stand on principle, keep the three out and admit the one girl who really didn't want to be the only kid in the club?

Well the other youth leaders know I'm a soft touch, so before I caved in and let everyone come they issued a firm 'no' and we ran the club with five leaders and one youth.  The one youth was not happy.  She neither spoke nor joined in any of the activities.  Sigh.

It was only as we left that I realised the right course of action.  See as we left, the three banned youth were still hanging around church property - they had nothing else to do on a Thursday night.  And then it struck me - I should have gone out and joined them in their exile.  Wouldn't that have been the Christmas thing to do?

Wouldabeen great!  We would be telling them, Our no means no - they can't come in.  But nonetheless, I will go out to them.  If they can't come in to hear the word of life I'll go out into their cold, dark banishment and bring it to them.

And so I kicked myself all the way home.  Why didn't I think of that earlier?  But as I was berating myself, a plan began to form...  In future, I'll ban 'em all just so that the following week I can join them in it!  Cunning huh?

Which brings me to the moral of this story: Don't trust the supralapsarian youth leader.

.

.

Imagine you're in a conversation with someone of another religion.  At some point you might ask them: "Are you sure of heaven/Valhalla/getting beamed to the mother ship?"  (delete as appropriate).

This is a good question because no other god actually saves.  They might talk a big game but they can't be counted on to do the business.  And so the follower of this other religion will be forced back on themselves.  They'll either openly confess 'No' or they'll be full of bravado and demonstrable good works but the most they can say is, "I hope so." And when they confess their lack of assurance it's enough to bring you to tears.  What wicked demon has ensnared you that you may even kill yourself in its service yet have no hope of its favour!?

Well don't we see the same thing with the carbon-cutting gospel?  I receive emails from an old university friend (I'll bet many of you get the same ones - his global advocacy group has become massive).  But for all the candlelit vigils, the millions strong petitions, the vast sums raised and ambitious goals - the lack of assurance is palpable.  Every email ends "with hope."  But you just wonder don't you.

It seems to me that even the most committed activist working to tax carbon into oblivion doesn't really think their gospel will deliver.  The most optimistic talk of the climate campaigner sounds so much like the devout Mormon who 'hopes' they'll make it.  Maybe I'm reading things in here, but I get the distinct impression that deep down their whole fear-driven carbon-cutting works both hide the fact and spring from the fact that they don't think it's going to happen.  Not deep down.

Oh they hope so!  And they hope it enough to wear themselves out in anxious labour.  But there's no assurance.

So how do we preach to the climate campaigner?  Let me suggest not by agreeing with their apocalyptic, pseudo-messianic gospel and then adding in a few Jesus extras to get the job done.  (You're correct in your assessment of the planet's destiny and true rulers, but let me add in Jesus who helps us to be the saviours!)

No, that's not the way.  But not because we have no compassion.  We do.  It is desperate to see them so harassed and helpless like sheep without a Shepherd.  And so the way forwards is to teach them (Mark 6:34).  And perhaps especially we might paint for them a cosmic picture of the new heavens and the new earth, the home of righteousness.  Not just a reduction in the number of hurricanes, but a crystal sea like glass!  Not just preventing the displacement of people groups but their planting in the land!  Not just the protection of the trees but their joyful worship!  Not the maintenance of adequate food supplies but the richest of meats and wine dripping from the hills!  Not alleviation of drought but the Lamb shepherding us to streams of Living Water!  Not simply the preservation of lions and lambs but their reconciliation!   And a little Child will lead them.  We introduce them to this Child and He will calm all fears.  Because He is able to deliver on this future.  He guarantees it.

Maybe we need to be saying to our climate believer friends "After all this effort, are you sure the planet's going to be ok?  Cos I am."

.

By the way, Paul Huxley speaks much sense on the reasons for scepticism here.

.

Walking through a London train station yesterday I had to weave my way through hundreds of protestors.  Their favourite placard seemed to be this one:

photo from here

The message reads: Our climate is in our hands.  And at least 20 000 gathered in the capital to remind us of this: we've got the whole world in our hands.

Maybe it's coincidence but it's pretty close to a Guardian headline this week that said, regarding Copenhagen,  "Our destiny is still in our hands."

Wouldn't we love that to be true!?  How we long to be this world's solution!  And therefore, however costly it might be, we are eager to cast ourselves as the problem.  (See this former post entitled 'Anthropogenic')

The cost we seem willing to pay to keep ourselves at the centre beggars belief.  The Spectator reports the cost of making good on pledges agreed at the G8 summit:

A high global CO2 tax starting at $68 could reduce the world economic output by a staggering 13% in 2100 - the equivalent of $40 trillion a year.  That is to say, it would cost 50 times the expected damage of global warming. (Bjorn Lomborg, The Spectator, 5/12/09)

But hey - that's the price you pay when you take your destiny into your hands.  And you pay it willingly and with self-righteous zeal.  Because you are coming of age.  To this you were born.  We are the ones we've been waiting for, and all that.

But Christmas tells a different story.  He is the One we were waiting for.  And the government is upon His shoulders. (Isaiah 9:2-7).

Yet whenever we turn from Him we become slaves to the devil's lie: 'Be like God'.  And the result is a captivity to fear and an incessant struggle to make the world work.  We end up as slaves and we willingly pay for the honour.  Eventually in blood.  But no cost is too dear in order to secure our own messianic delusion.

I don't know about the science involved here.  But if you ever wonder whether a skeptic's approach to the debate could  account for the so-called scientific consensus on warming or why people would be willing to pay so much if it's unnecessary - I think the gospel has ready answers for this.

.

Walking through a London train station yesterday I had to weave my way through hundreds of protestors.  Their favourite placard seemed to be this one:

photo from here

The message reads: Our climate is in our hands.  And at least 20 000 gathered in the capital to remind us of this: we've got the whole world in our hands.

Maybe it's coincidence but it's pretty close to a Guardian headline this week that said, regarding Copenhagen,  "Our destiny is still in our hands."

Wouldn't we love that to be true!?  How we long to be this world's solution!  And therefore, however costly it might be, we are eager to cast ourselves as the problem.  (See this former post entitled 'Anthropogenic')

The cost we seem willing to pay to keep ourselves at the centre beggars belief.  The Spectator reports the cost of making good on pledges agreed at the G8 summit:

A high global CO2 tax starting at $68 could reduce the world economic output by a staggering 13% in 2100 - the equivalent of $40 trillion a year.  That is to say, it would cost 50 times the expected damage of global warming. (Bjorn Lomborg, The Spectator, 5/12/09)

But hey - that's the price you pay when you take your destiny into your hands.  And you pay it willingly and with self-righteous zeal.  Because you are coming of age.  To this you were born.  We are the ones we've been waiting for, and all that.

But Christmas tells a different story.  He is the One we were waiting for.  And the government is upon His shoulders. (Isaiah 9:2-7).

Yet whenever we turn from Him we become slaves to the devil's lie: 'Be like God'.  And the result is a captivity to fear and an incessant struggle to make the world work.  We end up as slaves and we willingly pay for the honour.  Eventually in blood.  But no cost is too dear in order to secure our own messianic delusion.

I don't know about the science involved here.  But if you ever wonder whether a skeptic's approach to the debate could  account for the so-called scientific consensus on warming or why people would be willing to pay so much if it's unnecessary - I think the gospel has ready answers for this.

.

As soon as I posted Two Ways to Pastor I thought - I'm missing a third way.

And I can do no better in describing it than to show you this clip from the film "Friends with Money."  The movie feels like it was written by a 1st year psychology student.  And while there are a few interesting examples of relationship dysfunctionality, the denoument to which the whole slushy mess has been heading is this heart-to-heart between Jennifer Aniston and her new man.  Previously, when she'd worked as his maid, he had scrooged her out of full payment and now it's revealed that he's actually stinking rich.  The cad.

No doubt interrogation units are using this film to extract information from suspects around the globe.  The simultaneous urge to laugh, shriek and vomit is wildly disorienting don't you think?

Here is the third way to pastor.  We say to each other, "I've got issues.  (Commitment trouble.  Sex addiction.  Difficulty getting close.  Need for control.)  Don't dig too deep.  Not here.  Just admire the complicated splendour.  Don't confront.  There's no need, I'm seeing a therapist.  We're working it out far away from the actual relationships my sins are destroying.  You have 'issues' too?  Aren't we interesting!"

What's wrong with this model?  Well, cutting to the chase, Jesus didn't die for 'issues'.  He didn't die for your commitment trouble.  He didn't die for your weirdness around women/men/money/authority/food.  He died for your sin.

Therefore, cross-centred pastoral care is not about diving into the dark and alluring waters of Lake You.  We don't plumb the depths to generate labels for our dysfunctions.  No, we uncover depths of feeling, thinking and acting because we're exposing sin to the Light. In the therapeutic world the 'inward look' actually serves to obscure.  It's these labels that justify my sin, not Christ.  In the gospel we aim to diagnose the problem so radically that Christ alone is the solution. In this way 'the look within' is only meant to serve 'the look up'.  (See the cross diagram of the last post)

If you hear me reacting against Pharasaical pastoral care and think I'm capitulating to therapeutic wallowing, rest assured.  I am not interested in 'sharing' for sharing's sake.  I want to flag up here and now that looking beneath surface behaviour is not good in and of itself.  There is an 'inward look' that is pure introspection.  And in the end it serves to hide sin and deny Christ.

But there is another kind of 'inward look' which serves to drive us to Jesus as beggars.  That's what I am arguing for.  My dyfunction (if you want to call it that) is not that 'social situations make me anxious' - my problem is that I'm a sinner and in myself the wrath of God is against me.  Rightfully so - I have developed and nurtured complex, chosen, self-protective, self-promoting, Christ-denying matrices of sin.  And it's not mysterious or brave or profound - it's ugly.  Wrath-deservingly ugly.  And I can't hide it, I can't justify it, I can't atone for it.  All I can do is, in fellowship with you, come into the Light, 'and the blood of Jesus purifies us from all sin.' (1 John 1:7).

This is what a look 'below the waterline' is about.  It's not about nodding sagely to each other's 'issues'.  It's confessing our sins to each other.  We'll be thinking more about this soon.

But for now I just wanted to throw into the mix this therapeutic way to pastor.

So... there's the Pharasaical world, the therapeutic world and the gospel world.

More to follow...

Twitter widget by Rimon Habib - BuddyPress Expert Developer