The Obvious Happened. What Now?

The University of Toronto, in good progressive fashion, started using "gender-neutral" bathrooms in some dorms. You will no doubt be shocked to find out that college guys like looking at naked girls, and some particularly sleazy ones decided to do so without the girls' permission.

So what do we make of this? It's tempting to start with "I told you so" and "How could they not see this would happen?", and plenty of good folks are already on that train. The point needs to be driven home that this result is entirely predictable, and this foolishness needlessly puts women and children in harm's way.

There's one problem nagging at me, though. I have a hard time buying the underlying assumption - that the people responsible for these asinine policies couldn't see this coming. These are generally people with advanced degrees - no matter how worthless those degrees may be, they require some intellectual acumen to obtain. Am I really to believe they are capable of academic achievement, yet utterly ignorant of what could happen when young males are granted free access to naked vulnerable women?

Of course they knew what would happen. They don't care. Advancing the progressive agenda is much more important to them than frivolous concerns like the safety and purity of women and children. There are goals to accomplish, and if some women and children have to be sacrificed - through sexual assaults, being torn limb from limb inside the womb, whatever - along the way, that's collateral damage they're willing to live with. Eggs and omelets and all.

The ultimate goal isn't feminism or 'equality' or a gender-free society or any small potatoes like that. Those are mere means to their doomed-to-fail end: the eradication of God. It's the same goal humanity has shared since Genesis 3, when our father Adam rebelled against God and exalted his own creaturely wisdom above that of the Creator. Following Adam's sin-corrupted nature, we rebel against God and fight against all that necessarily flows from Genesis 1:1. God created, and therefore has all sovereignty and right to define. We want to rule, so we do all we can to defy God.

And so we have these projects to cast off what God has said is good. God created male and female, so we invent the choose your own gender adventure society. God rules over life and death, so we claim for ourselves the right to kill at any time, for any reason; people are only alive when we deem them worthy of life. God created man in His image and gave him dominion over animals, so we imagine man in the image of ancient apes, just another animal, one the world would be better off without. There is no truth so obvious that we won't overturn it to send the message, "We are in charge here!" There is nothing so good that we won't destroy it to spite God.

The problem isn't ignorance, but wickedness. The cure is not common sense (though a dose of common grace sure wouldn't hurt!), but repentance. Foolish policies like the gender-neutral dorm bathrooms come from despising the obvious, but not merely the obvious about boys and girls. It comes from despising the obvious truth that God created and rules over us; we have sinned against Him, and deserve nothing but the harshest judgment. Our only hope is to repent and turn in faith in Jesus Christ, trusting his propitiatory death for sin and righteousness credited to all who trust in him alone.

Prediction I Hope Will Be Wrong

Sometimes I really, really hope I'm wrong. Now, for instance.

Big news came from Seattle this week: Mark Driscoll is stepping down as pastor of Mars Hill. Well, for six weeks, anyway. Serious charges have been brought against him, and he will go on vacation or something while the Mars Hill elders weigh the charges.

Now it should go without saying that we all hope this is a true church discipline process resulting in his repentance. Unfortunately, I suspect the whole thing is a traveshamockery. My prediction I seriously hope is wrong is this: no positive change will come out of this, and in fact I believe this will only make things worse.

Why do I think that? Start with his positively Clintonian statement, carefully crafted to give a façade of faux-repentance without actually repenting, twisting the facts, and making sure everyone knows the real villains are the people who have an issue with him.

Now consider the upcoming process and who will be administering it. Over the last few years, Driscoll has systematically eliminated elders who dare to disagree with him, smeared them as "divisive" per Titus 3:10-11, and stacked the elder board with personally-chosen sycophants. Now this collection of yes-men will choose between these "divisive" former brothers and their meal ticket. Pardon me for being a wee bit skeptical of the legitimacy of this process.

My prediction is that they will function like a "Blue Ribbon Panel" in Washington. Their primary job is to look like the issue is being taken seriously, give the aggrieved a chance to vent and 'be heard', and make sure no real consequences hit anyone important. They will issue a report vaguely acknowledging "mistakes were made", assuring us all that Pastor Mark is really, really sorry and truly, madly, deeply repentant for his minor imperfections (but reminding us again that those who said anything publicly are a million times worse), making vague claims of continued efforts towards restitution, and then reinstating him without consequence.

But it won't just be without consequence, you see. Now there will be cover as well. When the same things keep happening, and we go through this yet again, the Kool-Aid drinkers will point to this as indisputable, brave, humble repentance, and scold those who dare doubt it. Already instead of thanking those who warned them, the "don't you dare question him now!" scoldings and selective amnesia about their own culpability have flown freely. Next time we go through this, the chorus shouting that we have to pretend nothing before September 2014 ever happened will be deafening.

Again, I hope I'm completely wrong on every part of this. I hope there is genuine repentance, that elders hand-picked specifically for their ability to be spineless yes-men will suddenly become vertebrates and rule justly, and that true restitution is made. But nothing we've seen so far in over a decade of Driscoll makes any of that remotely likely.

Why is this one so special?

In his gospel, Matthew summarizes John the Baptist's message as "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mat 3:2). Then he summarizes Jesus' message the same way: From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mat 4:17). The apostles continued the gospel message of repentance and forgiveness of sins, including both Peter (Acts 2:32) and Paul (Acts 17:30). So repentance must be a pretty significant part of the gospel message.

In Christ we are given new birth, and our repentance is fitting for our new godly nature. Christian repentance involves a change of action - the thief must no longer steal, but work diligently to have more to give (Eph 4:28). But the change is not merely of the external actions, but of the inner desires and attitudes that drive them. The Christian former thief will not only repent of stealing, but of covetousness and dishonesty, to be replaced with ever-increasing diligence and generosity. You may be inclined by nature towards anger, wrath, or malice (Col 3:8), but they are to be repented of, replaced with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience (3:12).

Repentance is not just for actions, but for character, attitudes, desires, inclinations. Jesus illustrates this with murder (Mat 5:21-26); the act is sinful, but so is the inner hatred which produces it, even the thought of demeaning him as a fool. And Jesus makes it abundantly clear that this is true for sexuality as well. Adultery is sin, and so is the inner lust which produces it (5:27-30). It doesn't matter how strong your sexual desire is by nature; lust is sin, and sin must be dealt with through repentance. Even thoughts and attitudes, even those of a sexual nature, even if you were born that way.

Yet for some reason we are supposed to believe that there is one special sin for which repentance is not to be encouraged or pursued - the sin of homosexuality. The assertions span the spectrum from "the desires are OK as long as you don't act on them" to "there's nothing wrong with it at all", but all of them share a common assumption, that this particular sin is so deeply ingrained in a person's nature that repentance is impossible, if not undesirable.

He can't repent. He shouldn't even try to repent. He was born that way.

At this point I can't help but wonder how anyone, especially a professing Christian, could say something so hateful. We would be aghast at a doctor lying to a patient, denying that he needs the one medicine which could (and would be guaranteed to) save his life. How much more reprehensible is it to deny a man the sure and only hope for his soul!

The biggest problem with the "born this way" exemption from repentance is that we are all "born that way". That is, we are all born sinners, dead in our trespasses and sins, children of wrath. Our sinfulness may manifest in different acts or lusts in each of us, but we all have the same core problem - we are vile sinners who will be judged by a holy God. And the only hope - the only hope - any of us has is the atoning work of Jesus Christ, who was put forth as a propitiation by his blood, who was delivered up for our sins and raised for our justification, who became sin on our behalf so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. In his great mercy God saves those who have faith in Christ, raising them to newness of life, forgiving their sin, sanctifying them, granting them repentance. To deny this possibility to anyone - to lie to them and tell them they don't need it - is beyond cruel.

Brothers, let us have faith that the atoning work of Christ is strong enough to redeem the vilest sinners. Even homosexuals. Even you. Even me. Let us not deny anyone the glorious hope held out by 1 Corinthians 6:9-11.

"Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God."

Jesus Don't Care About Your Feelings

If you've been a Christian for long, you've probably heard something like this before. Someone points out that X is a sin, and an objection is raised that saying so makes people who engage in X feel really bad. A Christian responds with any of a number of correct analogies - a doctor hurting your feelings by saying you have cancer or are on the verge of a heart attack, drill sergeants breaking down recruits to make them good soldiers, a personal trainer insulting you to get you to lose weight, warning people to get off the trains to concentration camps, etc. All of these share a common theme - the goal is so important, obstacles must be smashed, even if that involves hurting your feelings in the process. It would hardly be 'loving' for a doctor to spare your feelings and never tell you that you're a fatty fat fatty and need to lose a bunch of weight, so you die of a massive heart attack at 27. Similarly, it's not loving to let someone coast to hell - even with self-esteem intact - because you didn't want to hurt their feelings by confronting their sins and idols that separate them from Christ.

Like I said, you've probably heard something like that before. But something I've heard a lot more recently is the idea that Jesus would never hurt someone's feelings. So if you're willing to call X a sin even though it makes X-lovers feel bad, you're being un-Christlike. This is supposed to trump the argument without needing to address it - since, you know, the argument is fairly obvious and universally acknowledged in any other sphere of life, and to try to counter it would be plainly silly. So instead we get the ultimate trump card - Jesus wouldn't do that, so why do you?

The big problem with this objection is that it's demonstrably untrue. When someone is in danger of hell, Jesus is all too willing to hurt their feelings, to expose the sins they're the most ashamed of, and to crush the idols that keep them from faith and repentance.

Consider the twin evangelistic encounters of John 3 and John 4. In the first, Jesus confronts Nicodemus, a teacher/scholar and one of the most educated and powerful men in Israel, and essentially calls him a worldly-minded ignoramus. In the second, he cuts through the Samaritan woman's political/social/theological banter by going straight to confronting her promiscuity. Nicodemus was no doubt crushed to have his ignorance exposed, and the Samaritan woman was obviously ashamed that he knew the truth about her. In both cases, it was necessary to destroy their idols and walls, because they were keeping them from seeing Jesus and being saved. So he did what was necessary to get their attention, despite how it would make them feel, because the stakes were way too high to do otherwise.

Even more directly, consider the astonishing encounter in Luke 11. First, Jesus unleashes a series of condemnations against the Pharisees. A lawyer heard what Jesus said, and thought it maybe hit a little too close to him and his kind. He pointed this out to Jesus: "Teacher, in saying these things you insult us also.” Now surely, if our objector is correct, Jesus would stop to explain that he didn't want to offend anyone, maybe even apologize for any offense taken. But what did Jesus actually say? “Woe to you lawyers also!" And then he launched into a series of condemnations of them as well. Far from backing off to make sure nobody's feelings were hurt, he went out of his way to make sure they didn't miss the insult!

Were there times that Jesus cared about how people felt? Sure. When someone was hurting, such as Mary when her brother Lazarus died, he wept with her and comforted her. And that's when we should care about feelings as well. People who are hurting are to be comforted and helped. But defiant rebellion against God is not to be pampered - it is to be confronted and repented of, lest it last until it is ultimately crushed. That is what Jesus did, and so must we, if we want to love as Jesus loved.

One More Night With The Frogs

Have you ever noticed this in Exodus? The second plague God unleashed on Egypt was to completely overwhelm it with frogs. Pharaoh had his magicians try to help, but all they could do was replicate the problem and make it marginally worse - they were utterly powerless to stop it. Finally, Pharaoh gives in and decides to axe Moses for help...

Then Pharaoh called Moses and Aaron and said, "Plead with the LORD to take away the frogs from me and from my people, and I will let the people go to sacrifice to the LORD." Moses said to Pharaoh, "Be pleased to command me when I am to plead for you and for your servants and for your people, that the frogs be cut off from you and your houses and be left only in the Nile." And he said, "Tomorrow." Moses said, "Be it as you say, so that you may know that there is no one like the LORD our God. (Exodus 8:8-10)

Wait, what?

Tomorrow?!

What about, oh, I dunno, right now?

Pharaoh had a thoroughly disgusting problem he had exactly zero hope of solving, and a standing offer of help from the only person in the entire world who actually could stop it. And he decided to spend one more night with the frogs.

When it comes to dealing with sin, how often do we do the same thing?

Oh yeah, that's me

Read this. Personalize it, because it definitely applies to you. Me, too.

It's real easy to read the Bible and see myself as the good guys (in the places where there are any, of course). I can somehow relate to David, but can't imagine being one of the faithless multitudes cowering because of Goliath. I can see what all those people in scripture did wrong, and wonder how they cold be so foolish. Pointing out people making the same mistakes today? Oh, that's easy - far too easy.

But actually using scripture as a mirror and seeing reflections of my own sinfulness? Now that's a lot more of a challenge - not because it's difficult, but because it's painful. It also happens to be blessed and beneficial.

Sure, it's more fun to read scripture (or an open letter) and think of how awful those other guys are. But it's significantly better to diagnose my own sin, repent of it, and kill it.

Felix's Folly

I just finished reading through Acts, and was really struck by this passage. It describes Paul's interaction with Felix, the Roman governor of Judea. Felix was married to a Jewish woman and was at least somewhat familiar with "the Way". Paul had been imprisoned and was under Felix's authority, and Felix decided to check into this newfangled Christianity he'd heard about.

After some days Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish, and he sent for Paul and heard him speak about faith in Christ Jesus. And as he reasoned about righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment, Felix was alarmed and said, "Go away for the present. When I get an opportunity I will summon you." (Acts 24:24-25)


Fascinating. Felix couldn't wait to hear about this Jesus fellow and all the neat things he did. I bet he really enjoyed hearing about God's love, and all about grace, and how he works all things for good to those who love him, and maybe even about heaven. Oh, how interesting and intellectually stimulating and compelling all this was! Felix may have even been emotionally moved and felt downright 'worshipful'.

And then Paul had to ruin it by bringing up that pesky "righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment". Once the inescapably personal demand for repentance and warning of God's wrath came, Felix was outta there. Not very seeker-sensitive there, Paul.

Obviously Paul did the right thing in preaching the whole counsel of God, the whole gospel. What good would it do to entertain Felix with stories about Jesus, to tickle his itching ears and satisfy his curiosity, if he was never called to true faith and was left dead in his sin? How many of our churches need to follow Paul's example here and resist the temptation to entertain the lost, stop leaving the call for repentance unspoken for fear of offending them and driving them away, and boldly preach the whole gospel?

But this isn't about them. It's about us. You, and me, and everyone who sits in the pews on Sunday and listens to the word of God being proclaimed and expounded. What do we do with it? Do we enjoy it as long as it's an entertaining story, or intellectually stimulating discourse on God's sovereignty and man's responsibility, or a message about God's wonderful promises to his people - and then, like Felix, check out when the demand to repentance and holiness comes? Do we receive the message only until it personally challenges us to get rid of our hidden idolatries, root out our pet sin, and actually obey God by living in radical love? Are we content to soak up the fascinating knowledge of all the deep things of God, so long as it leaves us completely unchanged?

What do we do with a message like this? We can be happy to learn about the theory of being lukewarm, acknowledge the theoretical need to repent, and gain some conceptual understanding of honoring Jesus rather than making him vomit. Or we can examine our lives for evidence of lukewarmness, repent, and live to glorify Jesus. Like Felix, many choose the former. How about you? How about me? We know the truth - what will we do with it?

Thoughts from Isaiah

I've been reading Isaiah the past few weeks. It's got quite a few well-known passages, and this entry isn't about any of them. Just a few reflections on things that caught my eye.

First up, Isaiah 3:9. This verse is in the midst of an orcale pronouncing judgment on Judah:

For the look on their faces bears witness against them;
they proclaim their sin like Sodom;
they do not hide it.
Woe to them!
For they have brought evil on themselves.

This just gripped me. What an amazing description of the depths of depravity they had sunk into. It's one thing to sin. But they had become so entrenched in their sin, they had lost all sense of shame. They even took pride in it - proclaiming it like Sodom. At this point, there's roughly zero chance of repentance. When a conscience is so seared that sin is proudly and openly celebrated, when there's no remorse, no sense that it might even be wrong, the end is imminent. This verse profoundly illustrates just how richly deserved Judah's punishment was.

So the question is, am I like that? When I sin, do I care? Does the shame and sorrow drive me to repentance, or to self-justification? Am I getting so comfortable with my sin that I may one day not even consider it to be sin anymore? Will I reason that it's not really so bad, and then even come to think it's good? Will I, like Judah, and like Sodom, even become proud of my sin, and show it on my face? But for the grace of God...

I'd planned to do two, but I think I'll leave it there for now. Discuss.

How Not To Respond

Last week was the annual Shepherd's Conference, hosted by John MacArthur's church. If you know anything about John MacArthur, you know to expect that this conference exists to proclaim the word of God without compromise. Actually, if you don't know about MacArthur, now would be a great time for you to pick up a copy of The Gospel According to Jesus or Hard to Believe (only four bucks! I may buy a few more at that price just to give away), and just read it. You absolutely will not regret it.

MacArthur believes that the Bible is God's word, and actually acts like it. He preaches like it. And this conference exists to proclaim it. I've heard that Al Mohler's message is a beauty - that's currently downloading for tomorrow's listening pleasure.

The first conference message I got to listen to, and perhaps the most instantly notorious one (for this year, anyway), was a beauty by Phil Johnson. Phil examines what scripture has to say about the recent trend he calls the "pornification of the church", churches using graphic sexual speech (and images) and other gutter language in the name of being relevant. This behavior obviously falls extremely far short of the standard set by scripture, and as expected Phil brings the full weight and authority of the Word to bear against those who shame the church by promoting such filth.

Now, after listening to this message, one of the conference attendees - an audience consisting largely of pastors, mind you - was so furious that he vandalized a bathroom, with some incredibly obscene graffiti. A few questions immediately leap to mind here. Was he just trying to clearly illustrate Phil's point? What exactly was he expecting to hear at this conference, if not the Word of God brought fully to bear on the issues affecting the church? Could there be a worse response when sin is exposed than to revel more fully in it? Am I any different?

OK, that last question might be a surprise. But it's ultimately the most important one, isn't it? See, it's easy to shake my head at this guy, whose response to conviction is frankly beyond parody. I mean, he goes to a conference to hear God's word proclaimed boldly, and when it comes to a part he doesn't like, he flies off the handle and sins boldly and shamelessly. Phil's message was in session 7. I can picture this guy sitting through the first six, cheering on as MacArthur and Mohler and the other speakers bring the word, and call people out for the various ways they fall short of their calling as pastors. One of the speakers tears into emerg*s? You tell 'em! Taking apart easy-believism? Go get 'em, take no prisoners! Soft-peddling the Word, going easy on sin and repentance? Bring it! Keep going, this stuff is great!

Tarnishing the pulpit with filthy language and inappropriate material? Whoa, hold on now, why'd you have to go there? And so when his pet sin is hit, he can either repent or rebel. In this case, he chose to rebel.

Again I ask, am I any different? Are you?

It's so easy to cheer when the preacher brings the Word, when it's something they need to hear. When it's something I don't struggle with, but I see it running rampant in the church or society as a whole, oh yeah, I can listen to that preaching all day. But what happens when he hits my favorite sins? Do I zone out, just sort of skip over that part? Do I seek to self-justify, and explain how scripture doesn't really mean that, and even if it does it's not like what I'm doing is so bad, right? Do I go into full-on rebellion, and flaunt the sin because of my 'freedom in Christ', and take on the "Oh yeah? I'll show you!" attitude of a particularly immature three-year-old?

Or do I accept the Word of God as it is, and humbly confess my sin, and repent of it?

Yes, what this guy did is stupid on so many levels. It's foolish, moronic, disgusting, completely indefensible. But in the rush to (rightly) condemn his sin, let's examine our own hearts and how we respond to conviction. What he's done is obviously shameful. Let's not join him. When sin is exposed, let's repent of it and put it to death by the grace of God.

(Related: I was just cleaning out the RSS feed and saw this. Wow. Now that is how to respond to temptation and conviction of sin! So to sum up: be like this guy, not like vile graffiti guy.)

Reflections on the Weekend

This past Sunday, our church had the privilege of hearing from guest speaker Greg Laurie. He's the pastor of Harvest Christian Fellowship out in California (one of the largest churches in the US), and a prolific evangelist. First we saw a short film that recounts his life story (after watching it, I'll be shocked if I don't wind up reading the book), then he gave a message from Luke 15 and gave an altar call. Here are a few of my thoughts...

1) Greg's story is really amazing. Without getting into too many details, it's hard to imagine a worse childhood - his mother was married at least seven different times (I believe he was from the 4th marriage, when she was still in her early 20's), she was a drunk, there was abuse, Greg had to stop one of her boyfriends from killing her, etc. With so many people blaming their parents/culture for their sins today, or believing that children always necessarily turn out as they are raised (good or bad), it's a good reminder that this is just a general principle, not an absolute rule.

Yes, the sins of the fathers are often visited on their descendants. Yes, good and godly parenting often produces good and godly children. But not always. Sometimes parents can do everything right, and the kid turns out to be a jerk anyway. And sometimes even with the worst parenting imaginable, God intervenes and turns the family around.

2) The way Greg was converted is truly convicting and awesome. He had become a hippie, and in high school he'd been doing some severe drugs. And he didn't care about God in the least. But he did have a crush on this girl who had become a Christian, and she'd gotten involved with the "Jesus movement" at school. So one day at lunch, the group was meeting out on the courtyard, and Greg sat close enough to keep an eye on the girl without being a part of the Jesus meeting.

Then the strangest thing happened. The leader started reading scripture, and explaining what it said. Greg wasn't paying attention, until something caught his ear: "Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters" (Mat 12:30). Not a verse you're likely to find in any evangelistic material. But one that cut him straight to the heart and brought him to repentance. Within a matter of days, he went from pothead Christ-mocking rebel to vocal Christian.

And what brought that radical change about? Nothing but the word of God. Not a message dressed up in relevance, not an attempt to appeal to things he liked, not someone trying to infiltrate his culture, just a man faithfully proclaiming God's word. He just overheard one verse, and the conviction it brought completely changed his life. I feel like there's a lesson in there somewhere...

3) After his conversion, one of the other believers invited him to church. They went to a place called Calvary Chapel, led by a man named Chuck Smith. A lot of the members were converted hippies, youthful, rebellious, not trusting anyone over 30. And this is the guy who led them. That picture doesn't look too much different from the ones of him in the 70's - he was a bald, older dumpy white guy in a suit or polo shirt, with hundreds of long-haired hippies listening to him.

How? How is such a thing possible? After all, nary a day goes by without me reading about how if we want to reach a certain culture, we need to immerse in it. If we want to reach artists, we need to become artists. If we want to reach goths, it'll never happen unless we dress and act and talk like goths. Yet here was a guy who looked like everything the hippies would oppose, yet God used him to bring hundreds of them to faith and repentance. How? Here's a hint: in every clip of him that was shown, he was reading from his Bible. It seems that maybe, just maybe, the key isn't to become more 'relevant', but to faithfully preach the message that applies to all men everywhere at all times, that transcends all racial, ethnic, cultural, socioeconomic barriers, and proclaims the greatest problem we face and God's perfect solution.

Nah. Never get a book deal like that. Who would believe that God's word is actually more imminently relevant than our hairstyles and musical tastes? I must be a crazy fundie or something.

4) Now, about the altar call and invitation. I know these things are controversial and all, but if done properly, they can be very useful and mitigate against the dangers (i.e. false assurance). So anyway, I remember the first time I was at Harvest for one, and frankly it should be its own "Why I Love James MacDonald" post. He was finishing his message and giving the challenge, and started like he was going to do the "every head bowed, eyes closed" thing... then stopped and said "Forget that - every head up, eyes open, look around. If you want to claim to follow Christ, you do it publicly and let everyone know!" Amen to that! No more of these 'I'll just slip my hand up while nobody's looking and I'll be covered' phony professions of 'faith', please. If you're even the least bit sincere, letting the people around you know is the very least you can do.

So anyway, this weekend Greg Laurie gave the invitation to submit to Jesus. He did the typical way, which would've been really disappointing had I not known what was coming. After that, the challenge was issued - if you professed faith, come on down! As he put it, "Put feet to your faith." If you are ashamed to come up front and be seen, that's a really good sign your faith isn't genuine and you can't believe you're saved. No doubt just that simple act caused a few false professors to drop out only a few seconds into their supposed new life in Christ. And no doubt they are better off for it - better to have your 'faith' proved phony right away rather than be deluded about it for no one knows how long.

Next, those who came forward were sent off to meet individually with various ministry leaders - some elders, small group leaders, pastors, etc. Somehow the wife and I were invited to participate as well. We basically met with them just to get a feel for where they stood, make sure they understood what they were doing and its implications, that sort of thing. The aim was to get the point across that this isn't just a one-time purchase of fire insurance. Coming to faith in Christ means submitting to his Lordship in all of life, as long as you live. I pray that this message came across loud and clear, and that these folks are genuine brothers and sisters in Christ gearing up for a life-long journey of sanctification and fruit-bearing communion. The last thing we ever want to do is give someone false assurance, that raising a hand or coming forward or meeting with a counselor, if that's where it ends, is evidence of genuine faith.

5) While I was writing this up, this article came across my RSS. It's James MacDonald's reflections on the news from this weekend, and in the process he lays some serious smack down on the "relevance is everything" crowd. Definitely worth a read. It brings to mind something Phil Johnson has often pointed out - strange how the only 'cultures' worth 'engaging' are the ones they want to be a part of. You never hear one of the relevance warriors talking about engaging the, say, chess team culture, or the Polish polka-dancing culture. No, somehow it's always the cool, edgy cultures that they just need to immerse in. How odd. It's almost like they're less concerned about actually reaching people for Christ, and more in finding a sanctified excuse to do what they really want to do. But.... nah, that couldn't be it. Could it?

Thanksgiving - a Time for Repentance?

I came across this bit from comedian Louis CK. It's pretty funny, which means Dane Cook will probably steal it for his next album.



That bit was rather convicting, actually. It's truly amazing how fast I can start to take for granted things that should amaze me. The example of flight delays really hits home, because I had a stretch recently where ten consecutive flights were delayed. I remember one time in particular when I had a job in the Dallas area, which always makes for a long day as it is. The flight there got delayed, so I was feeling a time crunch on the job, then I got back to the airport in time, only to find out that the return flight was getting delayed repeatedly. I wound up not getting back to Chicago until almost midnight, and started to complain about it.

And then it hit me - even with delays and all sorts of 'problems', I was able to go to Dallas, do a days' work, and get home to Chicago all in one day! What did I have to complain about, exactly? Oh, it wasn't as convenient as I had planned. Big deal. It's utterly amazing what I was able to get done that day - throughout 99% of human history, that roundtrip would've taken months or years, and I was able to do it in hours. And yet I was ungrateful for the wonder of flight, and all the other gifts God has given us that made such a thing possible. Instead of acknowledging God's incredible grace in letting us have such things, I was acting as if it was owed to me, and someone owed me an apology for the inconvenience.

We have a word for people who act like this: ingrate. We all know what it's like to see someone get a gift, something they don't deserve, and treat it with contempt. Few things are more loathsome than a person who takes such blessings for granted, acts like he's owed them, or complains that they're not good enough. And yet, that's exactly what I found myself doing.

Which brings me to Thanksgiving, and the point of this post. We are justifiably angry when someone is ungrateful to us, and hopefully we all try to properly show thanks to others. How much more should we thank God for all the innumerable blessings He gives us? If ingratitude towards another person is despicable, how much moreso is it despicable towards God? And yet, how many of God's blessings do we take for granted every day, as if he somehow owes us, and we even complain if his gifts aren't up to our standards!

I've been slowly reading the book Respectable Sins by Jerry Bridges. It's about the sins that act like they're not all that bad - while it's easy (and right) to condemn adultery, how many even notice or question sins like selfishness or anxiety? Did you even know anxiety was a sin? So the book is about "confronting the sins we tolerate", and it's amazingly convicting. Get it, go through it, and take your time digesting it.

Oh, one of the chapters is on "Unthankfulness". That's the tie in.

So anyway, this Thanksgiving, remember to give thanks. For everything. And don't just do it for one day, but make it as normal as breathing. Because when you look at what we get compared to what we deserve, there's nothing that's not entirely owing to grace.

Lost Sheep and Coins

Since I'm sitting at the mechanic's awaiting repairs, it seems like a good enough time to do some more blogging. And there was much rejoicing (yay!). Last time we looked at the setting of Luke 15, that many people were coming to Jesus, repenting of their sin, and turning to faith in God. The religious leaders, so overjoyed at seeing desperately lost sinners embracing the hope of the gospel, declared a feast throughout the land to proclaim the goodness of God and celebrate his grace. Er, no, that's not right. They actually hated what they were seeing, and started slandering the Lord in an attempt to discredit his ministry. Instead of being overjoyed at the sight of sinners repenting, they were resentful, spiteful, and even jealous. After all, they had worked their whole lives to show how good they were, while these sinners had been... well, openly sinning for so long. Yet Jesus, obviously a man of God, looked past the Pharisees (or even spoke to their condemnation) to bless the 'sinners' who simply repented. How unfair!



Jesus overhears their grumblings, and decides to make a decisive statement showing the full extent of their evil and folly. And he decides to do it by telling a series of parables which illustrate the way God treats repentant sinners - and highlights the wickedness of the Pharisaical response. Today we'll look briefly at the first two, before diving into the last in greater detail later.

So he told them this parable: "What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.' Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

First up, a lost sheep. This parable is pretty straightforward: a shepherd loses a sheep, not an unusual occurrence seeing as how sheep are spectacularly stupid creatures. This would be a pretty clear illustration for the listeners, some of whom would be shepherds, and the others would at least be familiar with the profession. They would no doubt know what you do when a sheep gets separated from the herd: it will never find its way back on its own, so you leave the herd someplace safe and go find it. And when you do find it, you celebrate.

The lesson is obvious. If this is what you would do for something as insignificant as a single sheep out of a herd, and nobody would think it the least bit odd, how much more will God rejoice when something as valuable as one of his lost children is recovered?

One thing in this parable that often gives people problems is the mention of "ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance." Who is Jesus talking about here? From the context, it's clear he's talking about the Pharisees and scribes. But were they really righteous? Of course not, and this is shown very clearly later. At this point in the discourse, Jesus is saying it as a rhetorical device, and possibly sarcastically - they clearly thought of themselves as righteous, and saw no need for their own repentance, so Jesus for the moment takes their assumption and uses it against them. We see him doing the same thing in Matthew 9:10-13, where they complain about Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus responds that since they're apparently well, they don't need a doctor, but these sick people do. Again, Jesus is simply pointing out that, according to their view of things, they have no need for repentance or mercy, so why should they be surprised when he spends time calling those who do need it?

Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.

The second parable makes the point even more clearly. In this parable, the woman is most likely a widow, and all the money she has left is ten coins. Losing one coin - 10% of her entire net worth - is it conceivable that she wouldn't search for it like crazy? And when she finds it, how ecstatic must she be? Nobody would begrudge her for having tremendous joy and sharing that joy with others - she had lost something of tremendous value to her and found it again! How much more should we expect there to be joy when a lost sinner repents and returns to God?

And how wicked must a person be who would see this woman celebrating finding her lost coin, and instead of being happy for her, ridicules her for her joy, or hurls insults at her? Yet this is exactly what the Pharisees were doing with Jesus, who openly celebrated when sinners came to faith. And so in these two short parables, the Pharisees were shown to be thoroughly illogical, and utterly wicked as well.

Next time: we look at possibly the most famous parable (one so famous, people who have no idea what it's about refer to it all the time!), the Prodigal Son. Until then, a few questions for thought. What is your reaction when you see someone truly repent and come to faith? When you hear of thriving ministry at a different church - are you jealous more than you're joyful? Perhaps most importantly, do you remember that you were once the lost sheep or the lost coin, completely hopeless of ever returning to God? Have you forgotten that you once needed to repent every bit as much as the worst tax collector or sinner Jesus ever encountered? If you've come to faith, do you remember that, but for the grace of God, you'd still be lost and helpless, or have you started to think of yourself as if you were never lost and never needed to repent like "those people" do?

Divine 2x4

Do you ever get the feeling that God is trying to subtly get your attention on something by smacking you across the face with a divine two by four? Those times when the same topic comes up several times in rapid succession, and you get the feeling that maybe there's something God wants you to learn right now, and you can't move on until you do? Several weeks ago, my awesome hot wife and I were talking Bible, and somehow it got to Luke 15. That week I had an out-of-town job, and while waiting at the airport as my return flight kept getting pushed back, I went into a bookstore and started reading John MacArthur's A Tale of Two Sons, and exposition of Luke 15. That weekend we went to church to discover that the sermon was on Luke 15. So brilliant man that I am, I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was something in there I needed to get hammered into my skull.

And that seems like a good place to kick off this shiny new blog, while it still has that new-blog smell.

Turn with me in your Bibles or interwebs to Luke 15. Jesus has been in public ministry "preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction among the people", proclaiming the message "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mat. 4:23, 17). His message is one of repentance, forgiveness, and a call to radical discipleship. Contrary to the Pharisaical message that we are accepted by God on the basis of our good obedience (and the "sinners" are in such debt they might as well give up), Jesus was preaching the gospel - that we are all unworthy sinners, but in his incredible grace God has provided forgiveness, demanding repentance from our sin and embrace of the Son.

So we see that the "tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to him". 'Sinners' refers to your general low-lifes; your drunks, prostitutes, and the like. Tax collectors were so low, they aspired to someday be considered sinners. These were the people who sold out their Jewish heritage and aligned themselves with the foreign conquerors, who used the threat of Roman force to extort money from their neighbors. They weren't exactly the most popular folk in Israel. And these were the people who, more than any other, were clamoring to get near to Jesus.

Now why would that be? Perhaps they had been so beaten down by the Pharisees and the reigning religious paradigm that they had given up hope. They knew they were such wretched sinners that they could never make themselves acceptable to God. So when Jesus came preaching the gospel, it gave them hope. Hope that they could be forgiven, accepted by God not of their own accord, but out of God's grace and mercy. For those who had been convicted of the depth of their sin (and make no mistake, there were plenty of tax collectors and sinners who could self-justify and couldn't care less about being forgiven, just as there are today), the gospel was the power of God unto salvation. The hope of forgiveness brought repentance and a joyful embrace of the Son. And when the religious leaders saw all these sinners, the lowest of the low, repenting of their sin and returning to God with such joy and enthusiasm, their response was...

Resentment?!?

Uh, yeah. Resentment. The Pharisees looked on this outpouring of grace, the forgiveness of sinners, the repentance of tax collectors, and they couldn't have been angrier. They began to grumble and complain, and try to discredit Jesus and his ministry. So Jesus told a series of three parables aimed at showing how ludicrous and evil their way of thinking was, each with the themes of loss, recovery, and joy. The final one, the Prodigal Son, adds another element: the resentful self-righteous brother. Next time, we'll look at the first two parables to see what Jesus has to say about heaven's reaction to the repentant sinner.