This past Saturday, Professor Elliot Greene from Redeemer Presbyterian Seminary taught on “Christ, the Kingdom and History.” One of the quotes that I have been thinking on since then is:

“God has placed us where His love is most potent, in His Son.”

Paul often uses the phrase ἐν Χριστῷ (in Christ) or ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ (in Christ Jesus) to refer to this reality of union with Christ. Though the phrase is used dozens of times, consider just a few of the more widely known passages that express this essential truth.

• Romans 8:1–2 There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. ² For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.
• 1 Corinthians 1:30–31 And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, ³¹ so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
• 2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
• Galatians 3:25–29 But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, ²⁶ for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. ²⁷ For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. ²⁸ There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. ²⁹ And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.
• Ephesians 1:3–6 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, ⁴ even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love ⁵ he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, ⁶ to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.
• Ephesians 2:1–10 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins ² in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— ³ among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. ⁴ But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast. ¹⁰ For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

Righteousness, holiness, justification, and sanctification, God’s love, grace, and mercy, all pardon and hope and promise and boast wrapped up in Christ Jesus. In order to attain them, we must be in Him. Those who are in Him, that is who are united to Him through faith, and only those who are in Him, are beneficiaries of these attributes and aspects of redemption.

Union with Christ is the fountainhead from which flows the Christian’s every spiritual blessing—repentance and faith, pardon, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance, and glorification. Chosen in Christ before the creation of the world, and in the divine mind united with Christ in his death and resurrection, the elect, in response to God’s effectual call, are through God’s gift of faith actually united to Christ. Their union with Christ is in no sense the effect of human causation. “The union which the elect have with Christ is the work of God’s grace, whereby they are spiritually and mystically, yet really and inseparably, joined to Christ as their head and husband” (Larger Catechism, Question 66). By virtue of his actual union with Christ the Husband in his death and resurrection, the Christian, as Christ’s “bride,” is forgiven of his sin and liberated from the law—his previous “husband”—and made capable of doing that which he could never do before, namely, “bear holy fruit to God” (Rom. 7:4–5). To the degree that the Christian “reckons himself dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 6:11), that is to say, to the degree that the Christian takes seriously the reality of his Spirit–wrought union with Christ, to that degree he will find his definitive sanctification coming to actual expression in his experiential or progressive sanctification. The holiness of the Christian’s daily walk directly depends upon his union with the Savior.^[1]

Are you in Christ? Are you taking seriously the singular privilege of union with Him and deriving joy and peace from knowing that you are loved by God in Christ Jesus the Lord?

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Reymond, R. L. (1998). A New Systematic Theology of the Christian Faith (739). Nashville: T. Nelson.

Christ, Sanctification

In my sermon on July 4^th, I quoted D.A. Carson on the danger of spiritual drifting. This is the same quote that Matt has referenced a few times recently and so I wanted to provide that exact quote for those who would like to read it again.

One of the most striking evidences of sinful human nature lies in the universal propensity for downward drift. In other words, it takes thought, resolve, energy, and effort to bring about reform. In the grace of God, sometimes human beings display such virtues. But where such virtues are absent, the drift is invariably toward compromise, comfort, indiscipline, sliding disobedience, and decay that advances, sometimes at a crawl and sometimes at a gallop, across generations.

People do not drift toward holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord. We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance; we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom; we drift toward superstition and call it faith. We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation; we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism; we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated.[1]

I am grateful for this word which beckons us to awaken from apathetic slumber and to pick up the oars and strain hard against the dangerous drift of complacency. As the text says, Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts…

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[1] Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God : A daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. Volume 2 (25). Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Books.

Sanctification

Story:

Driving by DTS last week, I saw a little old lady fall on the sidewalk. Not seeing anyone around to help her, I pulled into the nearest parking lot around the corner and then ran back to see if there was anything I could do. I returned to find two men walking away from her, having obviously helped her to her feet. As I passed the men, I asked if she was okay and they replied, “she thinks she needs to go to the hospital” and then kept walking. I was confused as to why they were not calling an ambulance or helping her any further as I watched her shuffle along, head slumped down, left arm cradled by the right.

Transition:

This image got me thinking about community. Are we like the men who helped the lady to her feet and then left her to fend for herself? Without ultimate concern for her health, without sacrifice of self, there is instead concern merely to do one’s moral duty. We help our “communities” to their feet and then leave them to shuffle along with broken bones, left to fend for themselves.

Biblical Community is authentic.

Authentic means real, genuine, and valid. If there is “authentic” community, then there must be unauthentic pseudo-community, community which shares the name of community, but not the elements which truly highlight that form of fellowship which corresponds to the biblical imperative for community.  What elements distinguish biblical community from its worldly façade?

Though the distinctions are many, we want to focus in particular on vulnerability and accountability.

Vulnerability and Accountability

There is a strange paradox in humanity. Humanity is lonely and hates isolation. We are wired with a communal image from our triune God. Yet, paradoxically, while we hate to be alone, humanity longs to be hidden.

Was this not the first scheme of fallen man? Having tasted of the fruit and fallen from community, where does Adam go but to the bushes and trees? He wants to be hidden. He wants to be covered. But a few dried leaves can never cover guilt and shame.

People have not really moved beyond this proclivity – this tendency toward concealment. All these years later, the flesh loves figs and shrubs.

This inclination is exposed in John 3 where Jesus says that man loves the darkness and hates the light. The only cure for a fallen nature is a new nature that is the entire context of John 3 and Christ’s talk with Nicodemus. What God demands He provides – a heart that finds pleasure not behind plants, but in the cover of the cross.

The gospel calls us out of our fear and into faith. Out of the shadows and into the Light of the Son.

Fear of Confession:

When exposed, many of us still long to hide. We cram our skeletons into our closets and hope no one ever needs to go in there. So no one really knows us; because we have this huge closet full of secrets. Our houses become nicer and nicer on the outside, which only forces us to keep up the game. Those skeletons seem more and more out of place. We can neither give nor accept love. Those skeletons bind us. We can’t leave home for fear that someone will break in and see our past.

We know that honesty is the best policy. We intellectually know that. But fear shackles us. It deceives us. It paralyzes us with persuasive promises of shame and humiliation.

Confession without Repentance:

But that’s not all of us, for many of us, we are okay confessing, but our confession falls flat. So each week we confess the same sins to the same group who perhaps struggles with the exact same sins as well. Round and round we go on an unending merry-go-round of “confession.” We may open the door to our closets, but we don’t stop putting skeletons in there. You might even think we are proud of displaying them. But here’s the point—we are still collecting skeletons.

I think that many of us only confess our sin because we don’t really expect our community to ask us to do anything about it. Truth be told, we cherish our little pet sins. We confess, not to get rid of the sin, but to get rid of the shame. We are not terribly concerned that we have offended God, we are rather bothered by our conscience and simply want to feel better.

Confession of this kind is like going to a doctor and telling him all of your symptoms and before he even has a chance to speak, you get up off the butcher paper lounge chair thingy and say, “there, I feel much better” and just walk out.

This is where accountability comes in. Confession is meant to move us to repentance, not simply ease our conviction. Community does not consist of priests who merely hear confessions, it is instead a group of people who are passionate to shepherd someone toward the light. The goal of confession is repentance. Confession for the sake of confession is worthless. Confession that leads to true repentance results in holiness.

Our communities must not function not merely as confessionals? What good is it to listen to the little old lady ask for an ambulance if you are not going to call for one? What good is it to help her up from the ground only to let her shuffle a few feet and fall again? This time with a broken arm effectively eliminative any opportunity to soften the blow. If she falls, there is nothing to protect her.

Biblical community is a radical commitment to both confession and repentance. Not either/or. Neither is sufficient in and of itself. It doesn’t simply hear the lady say, “I think I need an ambulance” it calls the ambulance and waits with her and talks to her and prays for her. Then it gets in the ambulance or meets her in the hospital. It confronts her when she is tempted to rip out the IV and leave the hospital against the doctor’s orders. It sits in the waiting room and at her side and brings her meals, and reads the Scriptures over her and encourages her with talk of Christ. It stays by her side through rehab and beyond.

Community is not simply a place to share your sin, it is a place to struggle against your sin. It is a battlefield.

The Danger of Drifting[1]

Hebrews 2:1 Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.

What happens if you are driving and take your hands off the wheel? You start to drift. If your alignment is good, you can go quite some ways before the drift is noticeable. For some of you, you are scared to change the radio because your car will end up immediately swerving into a ditch the moment you take your hands off the wheels. Our lives are just like that. There is a very real danger of drifting.

The sermon referenced in the footnote below makes this observation, that our lives are not lakes, but rather rivers. And the rivers are flowing, but the surge of the world is rushing away from God. Ocean tides ebb and flow, but the currents of the flesh always carry us away from Christ. If we simply lounge and allow ourselves to float on the lazy rivers of complacency, we will not drift toward life, joy, fullness, and satisfaction, but rather toward destruction. Drifting is exceedingly dangerous.

Conformity to Christ Accomplished in Community

Hebrews 3:12 Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God.

Chapter 3 contains the same idea as in chapter 2 in regards to the danger of drifting or falling away, but with a twist on the application.

3:13 But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.

Straining at the oars to keep from drifting is no individual struggle. The author clarifies that this is a communal effort. We are to exhort “one another” so that “none of you” may be hardened and fall away. This means that we have a responsibility in the sanctification and perseverance of others. I am accountable to you and you to me. The more our lives overlap, the more responsibility we have to each other to exhort, encourage, warn, correct, discipline, teach, rebuke, counsel, caution, and persuade. Love demands that we not allow our loved ones to drift.

If this is going to happen there must be authenticity. There must be vulnerability. You need to be vulnerable with your community and they need to pay attention so that they can see signs of drifting.

When they see you drift, they can ease you back onto the path. You need to agree to give them that kind of responsibility and they need to agree to guide you slowly and carefully. We’ve all known the guy who sees that he is drifting to one side of the road and so overcorrects by yanking the wheel 45 degrees further than necessary. I have a few friends that I love and appreciate because I am forced to pray and consider my own mortality every time I ride with them.

This extreme overcorrection is not how biblical community should ideally confront sin. It is gentle and yet firm. And here is the great thing—it learns this over time. It matures into course correction. When I first learned to drive I was about eight, sitting in my grandfather’s lap on a deserted road near our lake house. He told me that I could not just keep the wheel in one place, but had to move it from side to side. I nearly caused us to flip right then. It took me a while to learn how to gently and yet firmly stay in my lane and correct my drift. Twenty-three years later, I don’t drive like I did at eight. Community matures and grows into its responsibility toward vulnerability and accountability.

When we say that community is authentic, we mean that it takes seriously the call to consider and clothe ourselves with Christ and crucify the flesh. We really do mean that The Village is a safe place to wrestle and struggle. “It is okay to not be okay, but it’s not okay to stay there.”

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[1] Listen to or read this very powerful sermon on the danger of drifting.

Community, Sanctification

Modesty is a term that is foreign to the vast majority of modern Westerner’s vernacular. Excess and adornment are the preferred couture while simplicity and contentment are perceived as antiquated ideals of an earlier generation. But fidelity to the Scriptures is never obsolete or out of style.

Providentially, I received two separate articles on the subject of modesty within a couple of days of each other. Because one was from Michael Bleecker, Flower Mound Worship Pastor, and the other from Jen Wilkin, who helps lead out in our Tuesday night women’s Bible study, I thought it might be interesting to include them both in one blog in order to get perspectives on the subject from both male and female.

Recently I read an article addressing choice of dress among Christian women.  It was written by a man, so I was particularly interested to hear how he would approach a topic of such delicacy from a male perspective.   What I read was a sensitive, well-presented plea for Christian women to consider the weaknesses of their spiritual brothers when choosing their clothes.  Though many discussions of dress focus on “how short is too short” or “how low is too low”, this one avoided these legalistic pitfalls and took aim for the heart: what is your motive for choosing the clothes you choose?

The plea to bear with our Christian brothers by covering ourselves is an important one for us to hear. Dressing modestly is one of the simplest ways a believer can distinguish herself from the world around her and keep herself free from sin. But any female over the age of eleven can tell you that modesty is not the biggest hurdle to overcome in aligning our fashion with our faith.

The way we dress is a reflection of the extent to which we have embraced the Great Command to love others as we love ourselves.  This is a preferential love: a love that places the needs of others above the needs of self at every possible opportunity.  What is the perceived need a woman seeks to meet when she chooses her outfit each day?  A woman who chooses immodest clothing is clearly craving the attention of men.  Or is she?

Consider the following incident related to me by my thirteen-year-old son:  With summer approaching, the band at his middle school planned a party at a local water park.  Several moms went along as chaperones.  One of the mothers, a woman presumably in her forty’s, chose to spend the day in a very small bikini that showcased her enhanced assets.  As she snoozed in the sun, she became the topic of lively and inappropriate discussion among her son’s classmates.

Wait a minute – didn’t I say modesty wasn’t the biggest struggle for women in choosing their dress?  How can Malibu Mommy possibly support my claim?  I have to ask myself:  Did this woman wake up the morning of the trip and ask “What can I wear today to excite lust among my son’s peer group?”  No, the question she more likely asked was “What can I wear today to impress my own peer group?” – a group in this case, composed not of both genders but of one: other women.

While dressing for the attention of men is problematic, dressing for the attention of other women is epidemic. The question “How do I look?” implies the answering inquiry “Relative to whom?”  The prideful among us may choose clothing to stand out, while the insecure among us may choose clothing to blend in.  Pride and insecurity, the two-headed hydra of self-absorption.

Bikini Mom wanted to be the hottest 40-something woman at the pool. She probably doesn’t love Jesus, so I am going to have to let her off the hook.   But what about me?  How do I compete with other women by the way I dress?  Do I dress to be the trendiest?  The wealthiest?   The thinnest?  The fittest?  The quirkiest?  What about the purest?  In certain circles, even modest dress can be a venue for self-promotion.  There is nothing inherently righteous about a denim jumper or culottes.  Nor is there anything inherently sinful about platform peep-toe stilettos. The problem, then, is not any particular outfit, but my craving for the superlative, the “-est” of any wardrobe choice – a craving rooted in the desire to elevate myself above others.

Godly women do not seek to elevate themselves above others – not by immodest dress, and not by competitive dress.  They seek to provoke neither the lust of men nor the envy of women.  They love preferentially by keeping the focus off of themselves.  Clothed inwardly with the righteousness of Christ, their outward clothing becomes a matter for sober consideration:  How can I best worship God through my wardrobe choices?  May we, as daughters of the Living God, be measured not by our hemlines but by our humility.

-Jen Wilkin

There is not a square inch of our lives – including our closets – with which God is unconcerned.[1]

I’ve thought recently about our attire and how we present ourselves. We are inundated with immodest dress on TV commercials, billboards and magazines, all in the name of fashion.

So what should we wear?  What does the Bible say about the attire of someone who professes godliness?

In reading 1 Timothy 2:9, we see that women should “adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire (this means that women should not dress ostentatiously or seductively), but with what is proper for women who profess godliness – with good works.”

In his blog, “Is modesty an issue in the church today”[2], John Piper writes:

Women should dress in such a way that they draw men’s attention towards their eyes, their face, and not towards the other parts of their bodies.

A woman can test herself in this arena by how she dresses her little girl. What kind of bathing suit do you put on your little two-year-old? Is it a cute little bikini? Or do you begin from the very start to teach this little girl that there is an appropriate way to dress? Are you preparing her so that by the time she is seven, eleven, or fifteen her whole mindset is, I dress appropriately, modestly, and not to entice or flaunt?

1 Timothy 2:9 is written primarily for women, but modesty is still important for men and especially important for fathers, who have the responsibility of raising modest children.  

I want to glorify God with pure hearts, in everything I do – and wear. I want that desire to be in the hearts of other believers as well. Clothing is not necessarily the point here.  You can wear pants and a winter coat and still have a wicked heart.  My hear, our hearts, glorifying God is the main point, but what we wear does reveal our hearts at times.  As C.J. Mahaney points out,

Modesty means propriety. It means avoiding clothes and adornment that are extravagant or sexually enticing.  Modesty is humility expressed in dress.  It’s a desire to serve others, particularly men, by not promoting or provoking sensuality.  Immodesty, then, is much more than wearing a short skirt or low-cut top; it’s the act of drawing undue attention to yourself.  It’s pride, on display by what you wear.[3]

I want to make an appeal to you to think about the heart behind what you wear and whether your wardrobe reveals the presence of worldliness or godliness.  Does your attire bring glory to God?   Men, this may be a great time to sit down with your wife and discuss this. It may be a great time to think about the things you wear as well and whether or not you’re glorifying God with your attire.  Women, thank you for dressing modestly and protecting the men in our church and in our work places.

-Michael Bleecker

My Concluding Thoughts:

Who are we trying to please? Culture or Christ?

Who are we trying to display? Ourselves or our Savior?

Who is informing our understanding of beauty and image? The magazines of the world or the mirror of the Word?

Modesty is informed by the mirror of the Word as humble men and women seek to richly adorn themselves with godliness and good works. Our beauty is the glory of a shining Son, Who is altogether lovely. May we clothe ourselves with the righteousness of Christ and the fruit of the Spirit and not the fading fashions of a fallen world.

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[1] Abraham Kuyper, Sphere Sovereignty (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 488.

[2] John Piper’s Blog “Is Modesty An Issue In The Church Today?”

[3] C.J. Mahaney, Worldliness (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Books, 2008), 120.

Sanctification, Sexuality

I will be taking a short break from the fear series in order to finish up some pressing writing assignments for the church. I should have another fear post available within the next couple of weeks.

Fear, Sanctification

In writing this blog, I have often felt the need to remember that this is not intended to be an “overly academic exercise,” but rather an attempt to take my fears captive to the truths of Scripture in hopes that by exposing darkness to light, I will find freedom. With this in mind, I have been thinking about my list of fears and trying to find a pattern or overarching theme. Here is the sample of the list as a refresher:

• Lizards
• Any body of water in which I cannot see to any substantial depth
• Roller coasters
• Public speaking
• Heights
• Clowns
• People in masks

To be perfectly honest, lizards still throw me for a loop so it is, for now, simply a wildcard that I have yet to really understand. If anyone has some insight, I would love to hear it.

For every other fear I find two major categories: the fear of death and the fear of man.

The Fear of Man:

When I was in undergrad at Texas A&M, I was required to take a public speaking course. I cannot recall the exact number of students enrolled, but I remember it being a rather large classroom. The first few weeks were spent discussing the syllabus, textbook, and various other logistical matters, but sometime after this initial introduction to the course my professor called my name to give an extemporaneous five-minute presentation on Halloween. My hands began to sweat, my mouth suddenly dried up, my stomach temporarily tabernacled in my throat, and adrenaline turned to nausea, dizziness and light-headedness combined with a sudden weakness in my knees as I attempted to stand. I wanted to hide.

As I rose from my desk and began the slow march to the front of the classroom, I desperately wanted to be covered. If only I could stand behind a podium, put on a costume, or speak with an accent, something, anything so that it was not really me up there.

I finally made it to the front of the classroom and stood in front of my classmates, felt the weight of the stares, turned 90 degrees to my left, and walked out of the building and to the registrar’s office. The irony is that in my desperation to avoid the embarrassment of being the guy who rambled for five minutes, I found the humiliation of being the guy who walked out of the classroom without saying a word.

The fear of man is not merely evident in our anxieties over public speaking, but also in the way we dress, the cars we drive, the way we speak, etc. It is also known as “peer pressure,” “people-pleasing,” and “codependency.”

The Lord has been really good to me in progressively sanctifying this area of my life. I still get somewhat nervous in front of crowds, still feel some degree of shame, still care what others think of me, but I am no longer plagued by the obsession that once paralyzed me.

One of the books that we recommend here at The Village is “When People are Big and God is Small” by Ed Welch and I highly recommend it to anyone who is struggling with this fear.

The Fear of Death:

It is not water that I fear and it is not even the things that lurk under the surface. It is not really heights that I fear, but rather the damage done by a fall. It is not really clowns that I fear, but rather homicidal clowns who pull people into sewers and then morph into abnormally large spiders (It sounds rather silly when I write it like that). In some sense I am still afraid of death.

The fear of death is a universal reality. Hebrews 2:15 speaks of the “lifelong slavery” that accompanies this fear, but it also speaks of the deliverance that is found in the destruction of death accomplished by Christ in the cross in one sense (Colossians 2:15; Timothy 1:10) and at the consummation of all things in a final and full sense (1 Corinthians 15:26; Revelation 20:14).

I confess that I still struggle with the residue of slavery here. I know that Christ has defeated death and I know that joy is found in His presence and yet I do not yet feel fully free. For now I struggle: that is, I do not passively accept this fear, but rather actively engage it with the gospel promises.

I wrote last week about the relationship between fear and exposure and I think this link is critical to understanding the dynamics of fear in general and our own individual fears in particular. Within this fallen world we are uncovered and thus exposed: spiritually exposed to a God Who adamantly opposes our sin, emotionally exposed to the prying eyes of our neighbors and physically exposed to the preying forces of nature. Our innate reaction to being uncovered is fear. Fear is thus intended to drive us toward true covering.

One day all fear will be swallowed up in perfect love for God, but for now we are to use it as it is directed to do, to lead us toward this love until we finally find peace and protection there.

Fear, Sanctification

So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths. And they heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden. But the LORD God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” And he said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.’

-Genesis 3:6-10

Imagine the terror that Adam and Eve felt as the weight of depravity bore down upon their consciences. In an instant the only reality that they had ever known fractured. Rhythm and harmony collapsed. Hearts that once leaped in anticipation for the presence of their Creator now lurked in anxiety at the sound of His steps. Trust dissolved into trepidation. They were undone.

They must have felt at least a fraction of what the writer of Hebrews declares, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31). I shudder to think how many times I have merely ignored or suppressed this thought and yet Adam and Eve could not escape or numb the truth of their guilt and shame.

Rather than ridicule Adam for his choice of refuge, I am struck by the thought that his response was actually quite rational (though rational and right are not synonymous). The pursuit of protection is an innate reaction. Fear reveals our vulnerability and we thus naturally seek covering. The one watching the horror film recoils and covers his or her eyes (my sister closes her eyes and covers her ears – she wants no stimuli whatsoever). The child sees the shadows of the approaching monster and pulls the covers over the head. Such cover offers no protection and yet we instinctively cling in vain to our valued refuge.

The problem with Adam’s solution was not his desire for protection, nor his acting upon that desire, but rather the direction in which his desire led. Rather than run toward the One Whom he feared, he ran from Him. Rather than harbor himself within the sanctuary of the Creator, he hid within the shadows of the creation. We all do this. We all suppress the truth of God and worship, serve, conceal and pacify ourselves with the things which He has made (Romans 1). We are just like Adam.

It is interesting to think about life before the Fall. There existed no danger (beyond the possibility of sin) and thus no need for an instinctive reaction to danger. I think therefore that the very desire for protection is God’s gift of grace embedded into the now fallen human nature. This longing for shelter should lead us like Adam to run to a tree, only this tree is covered with blood and not leaves.

Though my intention in this series is to address fear in its negative sense, I think it is helpful to begin with the fear of the LORD, for it is the beginning of all wisdom (Proverbs 1:7) and is the whole duty of man (Ecclesiastes 12:13). Perhaps if I feared the LORD a little more I would fear lizards a little less.

Fear, Sanctification

I struggle with fear. I imagine I always have, but have dwelled in rather ignorant bliss until recently.

I sat down the other day and tried to journal through the things that I fear and here is a sampling:

• Lizards: anoles and geckos in particular
• Any body of water in which I cannot see to any substantial depth
• Roller coasters
• Public speaking: the first time I did announcements at The Village I literally stayed up the night before with nausea
• Heights: not sure when this sprung up, I used to love heights as a kid
• Clowns: why did my parents let me watch It at the age of 12?
• People in masks: they “can’t be trusted” according to The Princess Bride

Some of my fears are completely irrational. I can understand a fear of venomous snakes, but lizards?  Perhaps it was because my brother would allow them to dangle from his ears as a child (if you have never seen this, it is too complicated to explain).  I have no clue why I still fear clowns.  I would have to say that the chances of being lured into a sewer by a carnivorous clown who promises me balloons that float is next to nil and yet…

With these few notable exceptions, most of my fears do relate to some legitimate (if remote) danger. Snakes, alligators, and sharks did inhabit the lakes, bayous, and gulf environment of my youth; roller coasters can jump a track; serial killers do exist; etc. The chances of my being bitten or eaten while in the water, involved in a freak amusement park accident, or stalked by a sociopath are fairly small, but the point is that they could happen. And it is this chance, minute as it may be, that feeds fear. Fear takes possibilities and fixates upon them.

The Scriptures call me to “be anxious for nothing” and yet I am filled with anxiety by these fears.  This is sin.  It needs to die.

The next few weeks will serve as an opportunity for me to think through a theology of fear. It is not an overly academic exercise, but is rather my attempt to consider my fears in light of the gospel.  My hope is that as my anxieties are exposed, I will find greater freedom from the flesh.

Fear, Sanctification

It is a vain thing for any to suppose that they place their chiefest happiness in being forever in the presence of Christ who care not at all to be with him here as they may….and it is an absurd thing for men to esteem themselves Christians who scarce think of Christ all the day long.
– John Owen

(The Grace and Duty of Being Spiritually Minded, from Volume 7 of the Banner of Truth Trust Series, pages 344-5)

This semester I have been reading the works of John Owen (1616-1683) for an independent study at DTS with Dr. John Hannah. Though reading in seminary can sometimes be a laborious endeavor, I have found my time with Owen to be really sweet and life-giving.

For those not familiar with Owen, he was a puritan pastor and theologian who is generally regarded as having written some of the finest treatises on sin and sanctification (On the Dominion of Sin and Grace, On the Mortification of Sin, On Temptation, On Indwelling Sin in Believers). I would imagine that he has been one of the most influential writers in the lives of many of our own pastors as I know that he has been for a number of those other pastor/theologians whom we admire.

Though Owen’s work is beautiful, it is also quite difficult for a number of reasons. First, it is written from the context of the 17th century. Language usage changes over time and that makes reading his stuff somewhat more complex. Second, his writing is so dense. When I think of puritan writings, I think of a lot of adjectives, but succinct is not one of them. Third, modern American evangelicals tends to be pretty ignorant of the Bible and theology and thus have a somewhat casual view of sin as compared to our puritan forefathers. Owen quickly exposes both of those faults and it hurts. All of this is to say that it takes work to follow his mind, but any effort is well worth it.

If you are looking for a bit easier introduction to the writings of Owen, you might check out Overcoming Sin and Temptation which updates the language for the modern reader.

Going back to the quote from above, I hope you ask yourself as I do:

Do you often think of Christ? Do you desire to be with Him now? Does your life evidence this? If not, what are you doing about it?

Read John Owen, he can help you.

History, Sanctification

Matthew 26:40 Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation.

I could have died. It was a few years back and I was driving back to Dallas from a friend’s wedding in College Station. Wanting to enjoy time with my college friends for as long as I could, I decided to start my return trek after they returned—which unfortunately turned out to be a little after midnight. For those unfamiliar with that particular drive through the Lone Star State, that would put me back home sometime around 4:00 a.m. This was not particularly wise for a guy with some moderate sleep difficulties.

For the first hour or so I was still feeling the euphoria of wedding and old acquaintances. I enjoyed most of that first hour in silence, appreciating the moon, stars, and uncluttered highway. I reflected on the past, considered the present, and hoped for the future.

The adrenaline tapered off about an hour and a half into the expedition and I suddenly realized that I was exhausted. Two hours away from home and my body was trying to shut down on me. I was absolutely worn out. Not the temporary waves of tiredness that might wash over you and quickly pass away; I was about to pass out.

I turned on the radio and tried to sing along at the top of my lungs. (BTW, I do that even when I am wide awake…I have this weird disease.) I rolled down the window and literally drove Ace Ventura-style for a few minutes to feel the wind in my face. Nothing helped. I actually slapped and pinched myself a few times just to wake up. I stopped to get some gas station coffee. I tried talking to myself—yelling, holding my eyes open with my fingers. I stayed awake, but the exhaustion was in no way abated. I swerved my way to my desired destination and collapsed into bed.

If you have been driving for any significant period of time you have probably had similar experiences. Hopefully you do not make a habit of sleep-deprived driving, but I would imagine that most of us have crossed that bridge a time or two. We all have our own ritual of coping and staying awake. Some crank up the air conditioning to freeze themselves awake, some call friends to talk to, some follow my preference of the self inflicted face slap. A friend of mine tries to invoke a sugar rush by downing Dr. Pepper and little chocolate donuts. We all have a way to try to beat back the exhaustion.

Rewind two thousand years to a dark night outside of Jerusalem—the moon and stars shining down in a garden on a hill. Three men sit and wait as their friend has disappeared into the olive trees. The long journey to Jerusalem has taken its toll on their bodies. Conversation tapers off until the silence is deafening. One of them yawns and then another yawns. The darkness is heavy in the air. Eyes slowly begin to close and heads sway. Suddenly a voice calls out “So, you could not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation.” They are snapped out of their short lived slumber in a sudden rush of short-lived shame. Their friend disappears again into the trees. But the darkness is so strong and the flesh so weak. Again, one of them yawns and then another. Eyes slowly begin to close and heads sway…

Fast forward to today. Each of us is driving home, but the road is long (some longer than others) and the night is exceedingly dark. Our eyes grow tired, our mind struggles for oxygen and we groan for breath. We swerve and struggle to regain control.

It is here that we must fight to stay alive. How do we ward off the sluggishness of sin and awaken the Spirit? Slapping our faces will not help, the radio is no remedy for our condition and Dr. Pepper offers no cure for what ails us.
God has given us means of grace for the mortification of the flesh and vivification of the Spirit. Not caffeine, nor air conditioning, but prayer and Scripture and fasting and meditation. These are a few of those remedies known as the disciplines. They are not magic, but they help.

Consider the fervency of your fight against fatigue to keep from driving off the road. Apply that same degree of discipline to your spiritual life. Think about how desperately you desire to guard your body, how every thought and movement is directed to one end—the preservation of consciousness for the sake of your life. Multiply that passion in pursuing the good of your soul.
I do not know exactly what refreshes your soul from the fatigue of the flesh, but I know that we must do something. We must watch and pray lest we be overcome.

Sin is real and as long as we inhabit this age, it will seek any foothold which it can gain. It lulls you with the sweet lullaby of slumber, all the while seeking to cast you into the dark precipice which surrounds us. How will we watch and pray? Will we watch and pray? Or will we simply let sin roll over us?

Sanctification, Sin