This morning, as I try to do every Monday morning, I prayed in my morning prayers for people I know and love, and who have a variety of needs. Included in them today were four men I know who, having grown up in evangelical, gospel-centred Christian homes or churches, have made the decision to pursue homosexual relationships or lifestyles.
I pray for these four men quite frequently, moved in part I guess by the knowledge of the brokenness of my own sexuality. My prayers are not from a position of superiority. In fact, this morning as I came to prayer I was quite burdened by that sense of my own brokenness. When I came to the names of these four in my prayer diary, I thought "O Lord, how am I going to pray for them when I am so poor myself?" But I did pray for them, and in the prayer a wonderful strengthening happened to me.
The Spirit of God is for the weak and the broken. There is probably nothing weaker in the world than honest praying. I found in praying today that the Spirit of God came to me in a fresh way, lifting the despondancy and bleakness of the sense of my brokenness, and energising me with knowledge of the grace of the Lord Jesus that will guard me and keep me until the great final day of renovation, renewal, restoration. And with that came a renewed resolve to wait faithfully in weakness, not to let the brokenness be the last word, but to live in Jesus Christ, the Lord of grace.
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Loneliness of Revelation
Currently I am reading Helmut Thielicke's collection of sermons entitled, How To Believe Again. I was struck by this section:
'Our text [Matt. 16:13-23] reaches its climax in the words that are now spoken. For Peter feels himself driven to a confession the madness of which (there's no other way to put it) hardly hits us any more because, in the meantime, the words have become all too familiar. They have long since become a Christian cliché. But at the time this confession was uttered, it must have been a powerful shock to those who heard it...
'When Jesus broke the silence that followed this precedent-shattering statement (and there must have been a pause of astonishment and confusion) he explained to Peter and the onlookers that this statement itself was a miracle. It was miraculous that such words could be uttered at all. "Flesh and blood," mere instinct or mother-wit, could not have discovered this secret. For one moment the walls of fog that mysteriously shroud the figure of Jesus of Nazareth are parted, and the eyes of an incomprehensible majesty gaze upon a stunned Peter.
'At that moment Peter is the loneliest man on the face of the earth. He is almost as lonely as the Master himself. Formerly Peter was a man like everybody else. He was a man like you and me. He affirmed God's providence when things suited him, and he protested when they got in his way. He wanted to do the right thing, the consciousness of his sin weighed on him like a millstone. He had not settled matters with his own conscience and therefore, with good reason, steered clear of the circuit of the eternal Judge.
'That's the way it usually is with all of us. Peter was no different from you and me. But now, at one blow, all that changes. Now he is the only one who has felt the scales drop from his eyes. Now he sees that God's heartbeat can be touched and felt and heard, despite all of life's riddles, all the world's horrors, and even judgment itself. You are the assurance (Peter is now able to confess) that there is no "Fate," but that, far above our heads, there are higher and loving thoughts about us. You are the assurance that there is something other than the eternal law of crime and punishment, that there is a Father who forgives our incriminating past and gives us the miracle of a fresh start.'
The loneliness of the discovery of grace—by revelation and not by wit or work—is a loneliness in the world in which we are placed, but which is visited by the presence of God our Father, Christ and the blessed Holy Spirit. Any person who has borne witness to the truth of Christ will know the bitter sweetness of confessing him and having others know nothing of what is shared.
The loneliness of revelation is also part of the impetus for the proclamation of the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Where we forget the loneliness of what we have we may well show that we forget the sadder and deeper loneliness of the person without God, an alien in this creation intended to be his home.
"Oh that world might taste and see the riches of his grace: the arms of love that compass me would mankind embrace... Happy if with my latest breath I might but gasp his name; Preach him to all and cry in death, "Behold, behold the Lamb!"
'Our text [Matt. 16:13-23] reaches its climax in the words that are now spoken. For Peter feels himself driven to a confession the madness of which (there's no other way to put it) hardly hits us any more because, in the meantime, the words have become all too familiar. They have long since become a Christian cliché. But at the time this confession was uttered, it must have been a powerful shock to those who heard it...
'When Jesus broke the silence that followed this precedent-shattering statement (and there must have been a pause of astonishment and confusion) he explained to Peter and the onlookers that this statement itself was a miracle. It was miraculous that such words could be uttered at all. "Flesh and blood," mere instinct or mother-wit, could not have discovered this secret. For one moment the walls of fog that mysteriously shroud the figure of Jesus of Nazareth are parted, and the eyes of an incomprehensible majesty gaze upon a stunned Peter.
'At that moment Peter is the loneliest man on the face of the earth. He is almost as lonely as the Master himself. Formerly Peter was a man like everybody else. He was a man like you and me. He affirmed God's providence when things suited him, and he protested when they got in his way. He wanted to do the right thing, the consciousness of his sin weighed on him like a millstone. He had not settled matters with his own conscience and therefore, with good reason, steered clear of the circuit of the eternal Judge.
'That's the way it usually is with all of us. Peter was no different from you and me. But now, at one blow, all that changes. Now he is the only one who has felt the scales drop from his eyes. Now he sees that God's heartbeat can be touched and felt and heard, despite all of life's riddles, all the world's horrors, and even judgment itself. You are the assurance (Peter is now able to confess) that there is no "Fate," but that, far above our heads, there are higher and loving thoughts about us. You are the assurance that there is something other than the eternal law of crime and punishment, that there is a Father who forgives our incriminating past and gives us the miracle of a fresh start.'
The loneliness of the discovery of grace—by revelation and not by wit or work—is a loneliness in the world in which we are placed, but which is visited by the presence of God our Father, Christ and the blessed Holy Spirit. Any person who has borne witness to the truth of Christ will know the bitter sweetness of confessing him and having others know nothing of what is shared.
The loneliness of revelation is also part of the impetus for the proclamation of the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Where we forget the loneliness of what we have we may well show that we forget the sadder and deeper loneliness of the person without God, an alien in this creation intended to be his home.
"Oh that world might taste and see the riches of his grace: the arms of love that compass me would mankind embrace... Happy if with my latest breath I might but gasp his name; Preach him to all and cry in death, "Behold, behold the Lamb!"
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
What's The Passion About Passion???
Something seems to have happened in the past decade. It seems that everybody in the church thinks that passion is a good thing. People are encouraged to act on the basis of passion; to follow their passions as a basis for the decisions they make in life; to develop a passion; evangelism is seen as the outflow of a passion for the lost. Many new Christian songs take up this basic idea; many books lining the shelves in Christian bookshops will take up the word in the title.
It hasn't always been this way. Where once (in my young adult years, an age not too far gone in the "golden" past) the focus had been on commitment, now the focus is on passion. I am always interested when there is a change in the language of our Christian culture. I wonder where it comes from. (I'm not convinced, by the way, that the focus on commitment was any better, but one thing about commitment was that it had the human will in its focus; passion has human emotion as its focus. See http://www.newcreation.org.au/books/covers/238.html to download Grant Thorpe's really helpful critique of commitment theology.")
There seems to me to be a double origin to this current fad. Firstly, as has often been the case in recent Western church movements, we seem to have borrowed the language of business and motivaton speakers. E.g. “Pursue the Passion follows the lives of people passionate about their careers and encourages everyone to pursue their own passions in life.” - a blurb for a website for a young group of guys travelling the US with their motivational message.
Secondly, we are living in the legacy of a philosophical and social movement called Romanticism. This movement, beginning in the late 1700’s, was a reaction to the scientific and rationalist thrust of the Enlightenment, and placed great emphasis on emotional reaction to the (spiritual) powers of nature as a more authentic truth than the analysis given by the rationalists. Charles Baudelaire: "Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject nor exact truth, but in the way of feeling." This movement has had its most recent flowering in the “hippy” and “new age” movements.
One main effect in the Church of this movement towards “passion” is a shift of emphasis in where we seek for the gospel to make its impact – a shift from the will to the emotions. This is – I believe – a fatal error for strong and vibrant faith in the long run, even though those who operate in this way definitely have in mind the stimulating of vibrant faith. I'm sure that they believe that, by evoking a strong emotional response to some aspect of the message of Christ, people will be motivated towards useful action for the kingdom. In fact, what seems to happen is that people become addicted to the emotional experience, seeking “hit” after “hit” but who rarely are transformed by this experience in such a way that the plaguing temptations to sin that they face are overcome and that they develop a strong and steady faith.
Jesus has a clear thrust in his teaching that emotional and enthusiastic responses to his teaching were not adequate. It is not only those who hear his word, but those who put that word into practice that inherit the kingdom. There will be those who have called out to him, "Lord, Lord!" in this world who fail to enter the world to come, but who rather enter hell. Jesus told a parable about two sons (Matt. 21) who are asked by their father to do a task. The first refuses outright, but then later duty works in him and he goes and does it. The second enthusiastically, passionately responds, but does not do what was asked. Who does the father's will?- clearly the first. (In the parable, it is clear that the work in Jesus' mind is believing in him, trusting in him as the revelation of the grace of God in history,)
Titus 2:11-15 is an important passage in this matter. Here, as in many places in the New Testament, rather than being passionate the focus of exhortation is on Christians being self-controlled (Gal. 5:22-23; 1Thess. 5:6-8; 1Tim. 3:2; Tit. 1:8; 2:2,5,6,12; 1Pet. 1:13; 4:7; 5:8; 2Pet. 1:5-9.) In fact, passion is seen very negatively in the New Testament as whole (Rom. 1:24; 6:12; 7:5ff; 13:14; Gal. 5:16-17,24; Eph. 4:22; 1Tim. 6:9; 2Tim. 2:22; Tit. 3:3; Jam. 4:1; 1Pet. 1:14; 2:11; 2Pet. 1:3-5; 1John 2:15-17.) The usual word for self-control is literally “inner strength” (ενκρατεια) – the idea being that of inwardly-working strength: a person is not ruled by the (emotional) forces (e.g. lust, ambition, fear) found operating within him or her, but rather has these forces in hand. Self-control generally has the sense of either perseverance, steadfastness, or restraint with reference to sexual matters. It has a verbal form that means “to abstain from something.” The word for passion (επιθυμια) has the idea of desire or enthusiasm intensified to be a ruling power. It is this kind of ruling inner power that self-control must take in hand and rule, subjecting it to the will of God.
Paul in this passage makes clear that grace of God teaches or trains us. There is a behavioural outcome to the gospel’s work in us. What God has done for us in Jesus Christ is brought home to us in the work of the Spirit in such a way that we ourselves now submit to and follow the leading of the Lord, rather than the leading of ungodly and worldly passions. Teaching and training is a long-term and ongoing process, not an immediate “download” of material. Self-control is itself taught and learned in a setting requiring persistence and perseverance!
In this passage, self-control (not actually ενκρατεια here but rather σωφρονως) is linked with uprightness (righteousness – carefulness to do the will of God) and godliness (“good religion” – honourable piety.) Self-control is then not simply mastery over oneself, but the determined doing of the will of God.
The grace of God that has appeared in the Lord Jesus Christ – in his incarnation and his resurrection from the dead – is what teaches us to be self-controlled. The very essence of sin is to be driven along by passions. Sin affects us deeply so that not only do we do wrong, but our desires are for the wrong (see esp. Eph. 2:1-3). It is the grace of God which trains us towards a God-pleasing life by changing the heart so that, even though we find sin still dwelling in us, in fact our longing is towards the will of God. Sin still dwells in our passions – and if we give ourselves over to them, even for godly purposes, finally they will lead us astray. The only trustworthy thing in our lives is outside us, the grace of the Lord Jesus. We must keep looking there, learning the depths and nature of that grace, and letting it transform and keep our wills in obedience to the Father. This grace does train our desiring too, so that we say with Christ, “Not my will, but yours be done.”
It hasn't always been this way. Where once (in my young adult years, an age not too far gone in the "golden" past) the focus had been on commitment, now the focus is on passion. I am always interested when there is a change in the language of our Christian culture. I wonder where it comes from. (I'm not convinced, by the way, that the focus on commitment was any better, but one thing about commitment was that it had the human will in its focus; passion has human emotion as its focus. See http://www.newcreation.org.au/books/covers/238.html to download Grant Thorpe's really helpful critique of commitment theology.")
There seems to me to be a double origin to this current fad. Firstly, as has often been the case in recent Western church movements, we seem to have borrowed the language of business and motivaton speakers. E.g. “Pursue the Passion follows the lives of people passionate about their careers and encourages everyone to pursue their own passions in life.” - a blurb for a website for a young group of guys travelling the US with their motivational message.
Secondly, we are living in the legacy of a philosophical and social movement called Romanticism. This movement, beginning in the late 1700’s, was a reaction to the scientific and rationalist thrust of the Enlightenment, and placed great emphasis on emotional reaction to the (spiritual) powers of nature as a more authentic truth than the analysis given by the rationalists. Charles Baudelaire: "Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject nor exact truth, but in the way of feeling." This movement has had its most recent flowering in the “hippy” and “new age” movements.
One main effect in the Church of this movement towards “passion” is a shift of emphasis in where we seek for the gospel to make its impact – a shift from the will to the emotions. This is – I believe – a fatal error for strong and vibrant faith in the long run, even though those who operate in this way definitely have in mind the stimulating of vibrant faith. I'm sure that they believe that, by evoking a strong emotional response to some aspect of the message of Christ, people will be motivated towards useful action for the kingdom. In fact, what seems to happen is that people become addicted to the emotional experience, seeking “hit” after “hit” but who rarely are transformed by this experience in such a way that the plaguing temptations to sin that they face are overcome and that they develop a strong and steady faith.
Jesus has a clear thrust in his teaching that emotional and enthusiastic responses to his teaching were not adequate. It is not only those who hear his word, but those who put that word into practice that inherit the kingdom. There will be those who have called out to him, "Lord, Lord!" in this world who fail to enter the world to come, but who rather enter hell. Jesus told a parable about two sons (Matt. 21) who are asked by their father to do a task. The first refuses outright, but then later duty works in him and he goes and does it. The second enthusiastically, passionately responds, but does not do what was asked. Who does the father's will?- clearly the first. (In the parable, it is clear that the work in Jesus' mind is believing in him, trusting in him as the revelation of the grace of God in history,)
Titus 2:11-15 is an important passage in this matter. Here, as in many places in the New Testament, rather than being passionate the focus of exhortation is on Christians being self-controlled (Gal. 5:22-23; 1Thess. 5:6-8; 1Tim. 3:2; Tit. 1:8; 2:2,5,6,12; 1Pet. 1:13; 4:7; 5:8; 2Pet. 1:5-9.) In fact, passion is seen very negatively in the New Testament as whole (Rom. 1:24; 6:12; 7:5ff; 13:14; Gal. 5:16-17,24; Eph. 4:22; 1Tim. 6:9; 2Tim. 2:22; Tit. 3:3; Jam. 4:1; 1Pet. 1:14; 2:11; 2Pet. 1:3-5; 1John 2:15-17.) The usual word for self-control is literally “inner strength” (ενκρατεια) – the idea being that of inwardly-working strength: a person is not ruled by the (emotional) forces (e.g. lust, ambition, fear) found operating within him or her, but rather has these forces in hand. Self-control generally has the sense of either perseverance, steadfastness, or restraint with reference to sexual matters. It has a verbal form that means “to abstain from something.” The word for passion (επιθυμια) has the idea of desire or enthusiasm intensified to be a ruling power. It is this kind of ruling inner power that self-control must take in hand and rule, subjecting it to the will of God.
Paul in this passage makes clear that grace of God teaches or trains us. There is a behavioural outcome to the gospel’s work in us. What God has done for us in Jesus Christ is brought home to us in the work of the Spirit in such a way that we ourselves now submit to and follow the leading of the Lord, rather than the leading of ungodly and worldly passions. Teaching and training is a long-term and ongoing process, not an immediate “download” of material. Self-control is itself taught and learned in a setting requiring persistence and perseverance!
In this passage, self-control (not actually ενκρατεια here but rather σωφρονως) is linked with uprightness (righteousness – carefulness to do the will of God) and godliness (“good religion” – honourable piety.) Self-control is then not simply mastery over oneself, but the determined doing of the will of God.
The grace of God that has appeared in the Lord Jesus Christ – in his incarnation and his resurrection from the dead – is what teaches us to be self-controlled. The very essence of sin is to be driven along by passions. Sin affects us deeply so that not only do we do wrong, but our desires are for the wrong (see esp. Eph. 2:1-3). It is the grace of God which trains us towards a God-pleasing life by changing the heart so that, even though we find sin still dwelling in us, in fact our longing is towards the will of God. Sin still dwells in our passions – and if we give ourselves over to them, even for godly purposes, finally they will lead us astray. The only trustworthy thing in our lives is outside us, the grace of the Lord Jesus. We must keep looking there, learning the depths and nature of that grace, and letting it transform and keep our wills in obedience to the Father. This grace does train our desiring too, so that we say with Christ, “Not my will, but yours be done.”
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