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3

This time of year I always feel guilty.  When it comes to the end of May and the weather turns nice, there’s a feeling I get.  A rising panic has dawned on me ever since I was a teenager.  You know the feeling - you step out into the sunshine feeling free and all of a sudden it hits you: I SHOULD BE REVISING!

Are you the same?

I haven’t sat any exams for years.  But the weather turns nice and instantly I feel burdened by the weight of exam season.

It's a horrible feeling.  And it's exactly like living under law.  Let me list some similarities between being in "Revision Mode" and living "under the law."

In revision mode...

  1. You never know if you've done enough.  Until you see the exam you can't know what you should have been revising.  Therefore, no matter how much revision you do, you could always be doing more.
  2. If you blow off your revision and enjoy the sunshine you never really enjoy it.  The knowledge of your coming exams overshadows any fun you might have.
  3. If you stay in and study you spend the whole time feeling like you're missing out.  Everyone else is having the summer of their lives, and you're stuck in the library.
  4. Negotiating the exam becomes the whole point of study.  Not learning.  Not love of the subject.  Everything is reduced to these arbitrary hoops through which you must jump.
  5. Techniques become almost as important as understanding.  In exams, the ability to conceal ignorance is every bit as useful as actually knowing stuff.   Being good at exams can be worth more than being good at your subject.
  6. The end results for which you aim are all about personal advancement - getting the job or university place that's best for you.

Living under the law is exactly the same.

  1. The relentless drum beat that drives you is guilt.  'Do more, do more, do more' says the law.  And more is never enough.
  2. You can ignore the law's demands and 'cut loose' in sin, but unless you've been set free by Christ you won't enjoy it.  There'll always be the lurking feeling that you should be shackled in religion.
  3. On the other hand, you can clutch those shackles to yourself in self-righteous pride, but only you know how jealous you are of the cool kids cutting loose.  Resentment is rising in you, even (and especially!) as you resolve to be good.
  4. Loving your neighbour in self-forgetful joy is not your heart-beat.  Instead you need to be told what to do.  In measurable, manageable, bite-sized chunks.
  5. Concealing your badness is just as important as showing your goodness.  Keeping up appearances is everything.
  6. The end goal is not Christ's love shared, but your status secured.  Your goodness is all about you.  Which means it's not actually good after all.
What's the answer?
Well at some point our exams come to an end.  There's that beautiful moment when the invigilator says: "Please finish the sentence you’re on...  PENS DOWN!"  And right there - the summer holidays begin.  What a moment!

In Galatians 3 Paul likens the Law to "a strict governess in charge of us." (Gal 3:24, JB Phillips).  But now we've graduated. Christ has passed our exams for us and earned us the A* (Gal 4:4).  The Law has done its job for us and now goes into honourable retirement (Gal 3:25).  We can still learn much from its wisdom, we can still consult the old lesson plans.  But we're not in revision mode.  It can't give us a detention.  And its grades no longer apply.

School's out for summer!  We're free.

Like the graduate who picks up a book for love of learning, now we can actually pursue the life of Christ without fear, pride, pressure or guilt.   Now that there's nothing we have to do we're finally in a position to actually do good!  Now that all judgement has been cleared away, altruism is possible!  For the first time in our lives genuine love can begin.

The Christian lives under the banner of John 19:30: "It is finished!"  So no more "revision mode" spirituality.  You've passed the test - with flying colours.  Let the summer begin.

8

Isaiah warned us and Jesus repeated it - it's hypocritical to honour the Lord with your lips while your heart is far from Him (Isaiah 29:13; Mark 15:8).  It's something I pray about every Sunday, "As I preach or pray or sing, may my lips and my heart be set on the Lord Jesus."

But there's another danger.  We can react the other way and disdain anything 'external'.  We say to the world: "I reject 'works', I'm all about the inward life."  And so we're constantly taking our spiritual temperatures.  We neglect ritual (as though it always leads to ritualism).  And we start to think of faith as a thing - the one really meritorious work!

The faith-works polarity becomes, in our thinking, an internal-external polarity.  Internal - good.  External - bad.  We start to imagine that mental acts are good old grace while physical acts are nasty old law.

But that's not how it is.  There can be a crippling legalism of the heart (ever felt it?) and there can be a wonderful liberation in gospel rituals (ever experienced that?).

Take communion.

Please.

No but seriously, take it.   Because here is a gospel ritual which, because it is external, brings home the grace of Jesus all the stronger.

We are not (or at least we should not be!) memorialists. Jesus has not left us a mental duty with the bread and wine as mere thought prompters.  We have been left a meal.  To chew.  And to gulp down.  There are motions to go through.  And they are the same motions we performed last week.  And the week before that.

But here's the thing - these motions are means of God's grace and not in spite of their externalism but because they are external.  Here is a gift that comes to you from outside yourself.  And it comes apart from your internal state.  But nonetheless it is for you - sinner that you are.

So take it regardless of whether your heart is white-hot with religious zeal.  Take it regardless of whether you are really, really mindful of the gravity of it all.  And as the minister prays the prayer of consecration and your mind wanders... oh well.  Don't ask him to start again.  Go through the motions I say.  Your heart is meant to catch up with the motions.  That's why the motions were given.  Because our hearts are weak and not to be trusted.

So allow the Word to come to you from beyond.  Allow Him to love you first. Don't disdain 'going through the motions.'  For many on a Sunday -  those grieving or sick or gripped by depression - they need to be carried along by these motions.  And for all of us - if we're going to be people of grace, we need these externals.

10

After yesterday's post I remembered this sparkling gem from Mike:

We are not saved by grace

John Bunyan believed that Christians are saved by grace. Of course. It was what everyone seemed to say. The thought left him pretty miserable, though. In fact, when he really thought about it, it left him profoundly depressed. God is gracious, he knew: but how gracious, exactly? And that made him wonder: ‘my peace would be in and out, sometimes twenty times a day; comfort now, and trouble presently’...

...For all that we speak of grace, and however strongly we speak of it, we will remain prisoners of spiritual insecurity for as long as we imagine that we are independent islands. And rightly so: all spiritual blessings are to be found in Christ alone. Just read Ephesians 1 for an avalanche of verses to prove that. There is no hint of salvation to be found anywhere else. God only ever blesses through Christ. He is the vine of God’s blessing. And the only way to be blessed is to be grafted into him.

It's only short, read the whole thing.

5

Recently I read an internet discussion on how much "grace" we should preach.  You know, as opposed to preaching the life of the kingdom, the demands of discipleship, missional living, that kind of thing.  One side said they'd like to see more grace, another side said they'd like to see less.

Perhaps you're thinking "I know which side Glen would take."  Don't be so sure.  I think they are falling off either side of the wrong horse.

Let's call one side "the more grace people."  These were keen to argue that none can perform the works of the kingdom without the empowerment of "grace."  The "less grace people" kept saying "Yeah, but, c'mon.  Commands are there.  Loads of them.  Stop sidelining half the Bible!"

And back and forth it went.  The more I read, the more I wondered whether I'd stumbled across some intramural Roman Catholic dispute.  Whatever differences they thought they had, both sides seemed to assume that grace was a substance.  Both spoke of the empowerment and encouragement of 'grace', but the real concern of both parties seemed to be our life of discipleship.  Thus, it was really a discussion about motivational techniques.  Some thought that carrots are better, others reached for the stick.

On this view, "grace" is like the cheese sandwiches which David brought to his brothers at the front line (1 Samuel 17:17-19).  Here grace is an encouragement and empowerment from the christ to go out and fight the good fight.  The christ gives you strength, victory is down to you.

And if that's grace, then naturally, some people think David should make some really tasty sandwiches, top quality pickle, mature cheddar, olive focaccia bread and plenty of it.  Other's say, "Don't stuff the troops, keep 'em lean and mean, teach 'em how to fight!"

Now if that was the dispute then, really, I have no desire to weigh in on the optimum  cheese-sandwich / military-briefing balance.

What I want to declare to both sides is the true meaning of grace.  Grace is not David's sandwiches, grace is David's victory.  Grace is David volunteering to fight for his doubting and disdainful brothers.  Grace is David delivering the killer-blow for troops who would otherwise be slaughtered.  Grace is David himself, the anointed champion, doing everything to win the day.  To put it another way - "grace alone" is just another way of saying "Christ alone".

Once you see that, you, your Champion and the whole battle has been shifted.

Suddenly we've been plucked from the front-lines, our lives in the balance, and now we find ourselves caught up in a victory we could never have won.  Now we're shouting with joy and advancing on the Philistines to plunder them.

And yes, at this point, both sandwiches and briefings come in handy.  But they must be rightly related to David's victory.  Without it, David's sandwiches may as well be poison.

And if anyone thinks they can ignore the victory of our Champion and move straight to the 'battles we must fight' they've completely misunderstood the gospel.  Yet I find that both the sandwich people and the pep-talk-people do this.  Both the "more grace people" and the "less grace people" carry on as though David's victory can simply be assumed and the Christian life boiled down to our attempts at plundering.

The real distinction is not between gracious or legal motivations towards our work.  The real distinction is between Christ's work and our work.   Which battle do we think we're in?  Are we facing down Goliath or are we victors already?  That really is all the difference in the world.

You might say: But Glen, we all know that we're victors through Christ, let's get on and tell people how to plunder.  I say: Really?  We know we're victors through Christ?!  Not even "the more grace people" seem to know it!

7

Our home group Bible study were finishing off Hebrews last night.  We did a bit of an overview and I asked  what we'd all take away from the book.

One person said that the warning passages leapt out at them.  Things like:

We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.  (Hebrews 2:1)

Another person said they were struck by the once-for-all finished-ness of Christ's work.  Jesus - our Brother - has become our High Priest and accomplished it all on our behalf.  Amazing grace!

So there I was, leading the study, sat between these two reactions to the Letter.  How would I acknowledge both these realities?

Here's one option:  "Indeed, you both make excellent points.  We need to balance the warning passages against the grace passages.  The grace stuff is nice, but the warnings prevent us going too crazy with the grace thing."

Have you heard that kind of teaching?  It comes from people who have a high view of the Bible.  They want to honour both strands of teaching and for that we can commend them.  But...

Isn't there another way of taking both elements seriously?

Imagine if the warnings are grave admonishments not to forget the grace of Christ?  Imagine if the thing we're tempted to drift towards is legalistic, ritualistic, earnest spiritual points-scoring?  Imagine if Christ's finished work is the truth we're always forgetting?

Well then... be warned - Christ alone has achieved salvation, by grace alone, received by faith alone.  Be warned!  If that's true then there is no spiritual life to be found in any other message, any other system, any other life.   Return at once to this hope:

Let us flee to take hold of the hope offered to us [that we] may be greatly encouraged. 19 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, 20 where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever.  (Hebrews 6:18-20)

We must beware.  All of us naturally drift in the Christian life.  We must flee from those temptations.  We must take hold of true gospel hope.  But remember - the direction in which we're tempted to drift is towards earnest spiritual endeavour.  When the Bible says, "Don't drift!" it's not trying to bring you back to serious-minded religious behaviour, it's calling you from it.

Don't drift!  Open your Bible and return to your true hope - Christ alone.

PS - in this light, you might like to consider Dan Hames' post on Lent

 

4

Jonathan Edwards here speaks of God's pleasure in creation:

"the pleasure God hath in those things which have been mentioned, is rather a pleasure in diffusing and communicating to, than in receiving from, the creature. Surely, it is no argument of indigence [i.e. neediness] in God that he is inclined to communicate of his infinite fullness. It is no argument of the emptiness or deficiency of a fountain, that it is inclined to overflow."

God creates from fullness not need.  His glory is not about demanding but giving.  From the Father's eternal begetting of the Son comes the logic of creation's in-time manufacture.  Creation is not the first time God has to relate to another.  Instead, creation finds its origin in His already-outgoing nature.

Creation is, therefore, birthed in self-giving love, not willed out of any necessity.  We can rest assured - God has not called us forth to gain from us, but to give to us.  In this sense we are "created for His glory."  We exist precisely because it is His glorious nature to give life.

The Father has eternally poured life and blessings onto and into His Son by the Spirit.  He continues to express this glory by pouring out life to the world through His Christ.  In this way creation will be glorified, as the Lord gives of Himself, even to the depths of the cross.

Or to say it how Jesus did: "He who loses his life will find it." (Luke 17:33).  First it is God who finds His life in losing it.  He is who He is as He gives Himself away for the world.  Therefore Jesus does not call us into anything He hasn't eternally and originally been part of.  But now, through His invitation, we get to share in it.  Glory!

9

Melancthon wrote to a guy called Brenz to clarify the difference between the Protestant position on justification and Augustine's.  The difference is vital!

Luther being Luther, he couldn't help adding a P.S. to Melancthon's letter:

And I, dear Brenz, in order to get a better grip on this issue frequently imagine it this way: as if in my heart there is no quality that is called faith or charity, but instead of them I put Christ himself and say: this is my righteousness; He is the quality and my formal righteousness, as they call it. In this way I free myself from the perception of the law and works, and even from the perception of this object, Christ, who is understood as a teacher or a giver; but I want Him to be my gift and teaching in Himself, so that I may have all things in Him.  So he says: I am the way, the truth and the life. He does not say: I give you the way, the truth and the life, as if He worked in me while being placed outside of me. He must be such things in me, remain in me, live in me, speak not through me but into me, 2 Cor. 5; so that we may be righteousness in Him, not in love or in gifts that follow.

7

I was recently asked the old question: "But if we're in Christ forevermore, why be good?"

Any number of counter-questions might be appropriate:

Is fear of consequences really the only reason for avoiding sin?

Isn't unconditional love most likely to elicit a good response? 

Why is being good the ultimate arbiter (rather than relationship with God)?

Others?

But as we spoke it seemed clear to me that the big misconception behind it all was a view that says: The Christian life is really, really, really hard and the only reason to live it is because there are other, basically unrelated, spiritual rewards.  Take away these carrots and sticks and of course you'll sin. Because, you know, sin is really great.  It's so great that God has to threaten us with hell to stop us having fun.  Offer free grace and there'll be pandemonium.

As though the way of Jesus is stifling.

As though sin is life-giving.

As though God's a cosmic kill-joy.

As though only eternal damnation balances the scales enough to make Christianity the clever choice.

As though Jesus said "My yoke is hard, but hell is harder."

But what if Jesus really brings life and sin only brings death?  What if Christ's yoke really is the easy one - the only one that properly fits?  What if you don't have to dangle people's feet over the pit to get them to behave?  What then?

Well you tell them "You're in Christ forevermore, why be bad?"

 

 

 

 

From Spurgeon's book: All of Grace

Do not attempt to touch yourself up and make yourself something other than you really are, but come as you are to Him who justifies the ungodly. …The Gospel will receive you into its halls if you come as a sinner, not otherwise. Wait not for reformation, but come at once for salvation. God justifieth the ungodly, and that takes you up where you now are; it meets you in your worst estate. Come in your disorder. I mean, come to your heavenly Father in all your sin and sinfulness. Come to Jesus just as you are: filthy, naked, neither fit to live nor fit to die. Come, you that are the very sweepings of creation; come, though you hardly dare to hope for anything but death. Come, though despair is brooding over you, pressing upon your bosom like a horrible nightmare. Come and ask the Lord to justify another ungodly one.

.

And here's a paper I wrote on how to preach evangelistically to sinners without demanding repentance first.

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On Friday I posted a video of Jason McElwain.  He's the autistic kid who set the last four minutes of a high-school basketball game on fire.

As his six 3-pointers sail in, the crowd go absolutely bananas.  It's exhilerating and heart-warming and all kinds of wonderful.

But then I watched this video.  Same kid, same game, but it left me with a very different feeling...

I'm probably making far too much out of this (tell me if you think so), but this video makes me worry for young Eric.

  --  'They expected Eric to love the game.  They didn't expect him to have autism...'

  --  'Terry Connolly has big dreams for Eric...'

  --  'Just maybe we can hold onto the hope that Eric can play basketball one day, it might only be for 10 minutes but... maybe one day...'

Leaving aside the point that Jason only played for four minutes... what's happening here?  Jason is being celebrated as a champion yes.  But very quickly, the hope he provides is turned into a model for emulation.  And the impression that's left (on me at any rate) is that Jason begins as a hero to rejoice in, but soon becomes a standard to meet.

There is a question for Eric's parents.  How will they 'preach Jason' to their son?  You see Jason's efforts could be used just to ramp up levels of expectation for Eric (which would do neither him nor the parents any good).  Or Jason could liberate the family through their joy in another's success.  Which is it to be: Law or Gospel?  Role model or Champion?  Pressure or Freedom?

If they leave Eric, ultimately, with Gospel who knows what he might achieve.  Literally, who knows?  That's the point of 'gospel preaching' - it liberates a person into any number of unforeseen paths.  He might even take up a proper sport, like cricket.

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