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If at any point you find me annoying, simply scroll down, click your cursor in the comment box and type emphatically “SHUT YOUR MOUTH, BEN!”
Otherwise, I’d like to think just a moment about a sermon I heard recently in my podcast from the well-known president of a well-known Christian college.
The agenda of his message was to explain the purpose, in his opinion, of a Christian college, particularly his College and I went away from those 40 minutes thinking this single question: “How could this sermon do ANYTHING but puff up those students with pride?”
His immediate, initial thrust was to suggest that the Christian college is superior in its provision of sanctification and Christian training than anyone else. He said, there is not a single youth pastor, not a single parent, nor a single other institution that can quite compete with a school like HIS COLLEGE. The spiritual intensity, theological clarity, ministry opportunity, and biblical literacy produce a level of intensified spiritual experience which has no parallel. “We believe that AT LEAST our standard is superior.”
And I was wondering why? What’s the purpose in even saying this?
Like I asked before, can this do anything other than puff up the students with pride? Or maybe this was merely his honest and candid observation, “Look kids, what you’re getting here is better than anything you can get in any church or family, and especially in any other school. Let’s just be honest, yea?”
Well, why would someone who purports to be a Biblical authority ever claim that a Christian College, a parachurch, is superior in spiritual effect than a local church? Can that be biblically supported? Even more, is a College superior in spiritual affect than a godly home, where Christ-centered parents instill biblical values from day one of their child’s life?
I would understand if he was to say that, as a school, they want to both present the student with “such and such” opportunities and effectively equip him or her to perform in those opportunities… but to go beyond that (with what seems to me an extremely arrogant statement) and say, “We will do this for you to a better effect than your own church and family” simply isn’t helpful for those students to hear.
Now for a theoretical criticism:
I may be thinking and ranting uselessly, but I was wondering if these kinds of sermons are given by institutions as a means to secure their own “necessity.” Which is to say, they produce such sermons in order to make themselves appear indispensable to the student. It’s that Mad Max moment “If you want to get out of here, you gotta come to me.” Well, this institution propounds, “If you want the greatest, most Biblical Christian sanctification, you gotta come to me.
It is one of those powerful tools used by the fundamentalist camp, the theological school, and the traditional institution to convince a patron/parishioner that he or she NEEDS that camp, school, or institution.
Maybe I’m wrong. Do they say this out of arrogance and insecurity?
Or is this simply their honest, candid observation?
Thanks for reading this rant,
Ben
PS.
The moral of this note: Don’t let someone manipulate you into becoming arrogant.
And I was hoping to elicit some thoughtful conversation.
“Some desire to know merely for the sake of knowing, and that is shameful curiosity. Some desire to know that they my sell their knowledge, and that too is shameful. Some desire to know for reputation’s sake, and that is shameful vanity. But there are some who desire to know that they may edify others, and that is praiseworthy; and there are some who desire to know that they themselves may be edified, and that is wise.” This was written by Bernard of Clairvaux many, many years ago and if I might add one single line to his, I would have to add this:
“Some desire to know that they might know and love God more deeply, and that is worship.”
Now, having all those sentences up there – I’d like to dig in, because they might strike you as a bit severe (in particular, the first one).
Is it a “shameful curiosity” to know for knowing sake? Let me put it another way: Someone reads just to read? Someone knows just to know? Okay, that’s all fine and dandy, but let’s think about what the word of God can actually do – it can teach us to fear and revere the Lord (Dt 31:12, Dt 4:10) and can transform our lives (Heb 4:12, 2 Tim 3:16-17). God gave us the Bible that we might know him and that our lives might be changed. Since this be the case, if we learn it just to know it, then this is such a gross misallocation of Bible study that it is, at best, shameful.
Not many seek knowledge of God’s word in order to make their fortunes thereby, but these kinds of people are out there – be cautious.
How many of us fall into that third category? the desire to know for reputation’s sake – to be the go-to Bible answer man. How precarious that I should ever have pride if I stand myself next to God. How even more ridiculous that I would inflame my own pride based on how much I know about that God. How cheap is that? It’s like a lazy man who prides himself on holding the most detailed knowledge of the biography and stats of LeBron James. Who’s the celebrity? Be careful – Paul writes that “Knowledge puffeth up.” Knowledge does this by default. If you are learning, and you are not actively seeking humility, then you are, by default, becoming proud.
Learning for the sake of edifying others. This doesn’t mean that I go through and highlight every verse that pinpoints a flaw in my friend or brother. This is learning because of a selfless desire to have a reserve of Biblical knowledge that can be used for encouraging others. Or! Learning the word so that I might refine my character, and become the graceful, loving, Christ-bearer that refreshes the hearts of others. By now many of us ought to be teachers – regardless of that, Paul writes that the word must dwell in us richly if we are to teach and admonish one another with wisdom. Use it for others!
To edify yourself – that’s not selfish. Frankly, the word of God tends to highlight all the ways we ought to mortify the self. And what better way to edify the self than to remove many of the things that drag us into lust, greed, and anger? For an extensive list on the personal uses of Scripture, check out Psalm 119.
To end: learn for worship’s sake.
Jeremiah 9:23-24
This is what the LORD says: “Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,” declares the LORD.
This study is going to be a question for everyone – so I’d like some feedback. I’ve been going through the book of 1 John with a friend (which is related to the gospel of John in so many ways) and we had a question.
1 John 1:5-10
This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.
This is a really convicting passage as well as an incredibly encouraging passage. It’s amazing, but for the sake of our question I’d like to focus in on this statement in verse 8: “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”
Typically, a Christian would never say they don’t sin (most of us are too aware of this verse to ever think we could get away with such a statement). But the question my friend and I were discussing was whether or not someone can “nonverbally” claim to be without sin.
What if we intentionally act and speak in such a way when we’re around other people that we’re actually trying to give off the impression that we don’t sin? If you read John 3 you’ll see how John develops the above concept of walking in the light as opposed to the dark. When you walk in the light, not only do you pursue holiness, but whatever wickedness you were once trying to hide in the darkness is now exposed in full view in the light. Now, the whole point of exposing yourself in the light isn’t to embarrass or shame you. The purpose of being exposed in the light it’s so that people will look at you, and then look at God and say, “Wow, what a kind and gracious God, he saved that person despite their many faults.” This is so that people will plainly see that whatever righteousness you’ve done has been done through God’s work in your life (John 3:19-21, LOOK IT UP).
So maybe we don’t talk about our sin, and maybe we would never actually “claim” to be without sin. But what if, by the way we act, by what we say, and by what we leave unsaid, we purposefully try to keep all our weaknesses still hidden in the dark closet. Sometimes I think that we actually want people to be more impressed with our own holiness than with God’s grace towards a sinner.
We try so hard to appear perfect that we effectively keep our faults covered up under an elaborate display of planned and practiced holiness.
Do you think it’s possible that in so doing we “nonverbally” claim to be without sin? Is that the same as verbally claiming to be without sin? I don’t know, just a thought. What are your thoughts?
John 12:8
“You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
I once heard a talk show host quote this to argue Jesus was a capitalist – I don’t buy it.
Let’s look at the scene:
Once Mary has humbled herself, knelt, worshiped, and bathed the feet of Christ in exotic perfume, Judas has a hissy fit. He scolds her, saying, “”Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.”
Such self-righteousness, huh? I’m convinced that we, as Christians, have a mental Rolodex of stock phrases and cliché ideas that we spout off to others, giving the illusion that we’re holy – to cover up the unrighteous attitudes we hold so dear. (John 12:4-6) We say things like: “I’ll pray for you” – “God is in control” – “I don’t drink!” – “We won’t kiss till we’re married” – “I go to a Christian school” – and my own from personal use, “What about the poor?”
Judas missed a bigger picture – yes, poor people slept in the streets; yes, his money bag and greedy pockets were denied; yes, the funds might have been otherwise allocated – but here’s what he missed: it was not only acceptable to worship Christ with her prized possession, it was necessary.
Look at what He says: “Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. ” It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
Did you catch that? Because of who Christ was/is, and because of what he did on the cross, it was not at all inappropriate to “waste” that perfume in worshiping him. It was intended for the very thing.
But notice how Jesus talked about it. While he was “with them” it was good to use the money and the perfume in such a way. But is Jesus physically with us today as he was then? No, and his statement implies this, “you will not always have me.” When the God of the universe was walking around on earth it was absolutely appropriate to pour out the best perfume on his feet, to spend extravagant money to worship him – HE’S GOD! AND HE DIED FOR US!
Don’t you find it interesting, though, that we no longer “have” Jesus, yet we do still have the poor? And what should we do about that? Did you know that even though we no longer “have” Jesus, he equated himself to the “poor” in Matthew?
Matthew 25:34-40
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’
~
It is true, you no longer “have” Jesus with you – but you do have the poor. And Jesus said, “What you did for the least of these… you did for me.”
What will you now do with your perfume? How do we pour out our riches on the feet of Jesus?
Walk out to the street corners, go under the freeway overpass, find a local shelter, and pour out your perfume there.
I recently got my hands on this book because I wanted something that would coerce me to change.
I’ve lost my taste for philosophical intrigue, for controversy, and for the brand new, iconoclastic ways of approaching scripture. I find that when I read much of what clever pastors and contemporary Christian thinkers write these days I walk away excusing more sin, leading myself into a morass of sadness, and distancing my thoughts from solid Truth.
For that reason, I adore this book, The Reformed Pastor. I think Baxter might write too honestly for many people to really enjoy his advice (a year ago I would have hated this book). He will force you to question yourself, force you to humility, force you to honestly regard the state of your spirituality.
I guess that’s the heart of my new taste for Puritans; they’re more honest about who I am than the newest trends in Christianity tend to be.
Here’s an excerpt:
“Take heed yourself, lest you live in those sins which you preach against in others, and lest you be guilty of that which daily you condemn. Will you make it your work to magnify God, and, when you have done, dishonour him as much as others… If sin be evil, why do you live in it? If it be not, why do you dissuade men from it? If it be dangerous, how dare you venture on it? If it be not, why do you tell men so? If God’s threatenings be true, why do you not fear them? If they be false, why do you needlessly trouble men with them?”
John 12:1-3
Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.
All of Biblical history, and all of human history for that matter, hinges upon a single week of Christ’s life – the week of his death and resurrection. In chapter 12 we’ve entered that week and for the life of me I cannot imagine a more pressing event or moment in the history of the world that can compare to the preeminence of what we are about to study.
This is Jesus, God, the creator and ruler of the Universe, the most powerful, just, merciful, and loving being. To even speak of him is a trying task since he is a being whose definition extends infinitely beyond the capacity of language – we cannot begin to imagine how wonderful, awesome, and worthy he is. Even the words I’m writing now seem trite as I type them out.
Nonetheless, I want you to imagine God, (and that’s difficult because I’m asking you to imagine someone who is incomprehensible, someone who exceeds your ability to imagine) – but imagine him in all his grandeur – and imagine he is reclining at the other end of the room, at a table, eating a meal, and that this night begins the very week of his death.
What would you do? How would you honor him? Would you talk to him? Would you be able to?
I’m a little ashamed, because I feel as if we Christians ought to live in that moment forever; to live as people who stoop to our knees with our greatest possessions that we might bless our Lord at his feet for the work he did on our behalf.
Jesus Christ died for my sin, and I am embarrassed because if I were to be in that room that night, reclining with him at the table, all I would have to bring before his feet is an ever heaping pile of sin, and I wish I could bring him some worship – I wish I could break a jar of expensive nard to honor him. But I think I would come to his feet more like one of his cheapest debtors, turning out my dirty pockets with nothing to show him, asking sheepishly if I could increase my debt just one more time.
Over the next few weeks we’re going to be studying the most important work any man has ever done and I’m hoping this will increase our worship. For that reason I think it’s appropriate to begin the study of this “week” in the same place John does: in this moment where Mary honors him before he dies.
How would you honor your Lord who was about to die for your sins? How could you?
Maybe the better question is: how do you now honor him now?
Luke 22:39-46
Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.
I like that it’s only the doctor, Luke, who records this unique detail: the sweating of blood. I’m not exactly sure what Luke would have called it in the first century or if there was even an awareness of the condition at that time, but today we call this hematidrosis. Due to severe emotional/physical stress the capillaries just beneath the surface of the skin burst, mingling blood in with the sweat glands.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been really struck by this moment in the story of Christ. I’ve been trying to fathom exactly how “stressed out” he must have been.
So what stressed him out so much?
We’d probably assume very quickly that the upcoming brutalities of the cross would cause this strain; that beatings, whippings, mocking, mutilation, humiliation, the nails driven in his hands, and the exposure of his bloodied body to the elements would cause this stress-induced hematidrosis.
But, if that’s all would Jesus really be that stressed out? In the Roman Empire, thousands if not hundreds of thousands of people suffered a crucifixion nearly identical to Christ’s yet how many of them were so stressed they perspired blood? We don’t really know – but do you think it was the cross alone that wearied Christ? Or was it perhaps something worse than the cross that actually stressed Christ so much that he would sweat blood?
I want to suggest that the cross was mere child’s play; to suffer at the hands of men is nothing compared to bearing the wrath of God. Can you even imagine that? There is no human torment that can even begin to resemble the wrath of God. There is no form of torture, no sensation of pain, there is no emotional agony that we experience or execute as human that can compare to what God’s wrath must be.
Honestly, I think that’s what wearied Christ.
And lest we forget, the entire purpose of Christ was to stand in as our substitute – to atone for our sin, to absorb all that punishment onto himself, to suffer the wrath of God in our place. His purpose in coming was to experience the wrath of God so of course he knew what was about to happen – he knew what to expect.
Isaiah 53:4-5,9-10,12
Surely he took up our infirmities
And carried our sorrows,
Yet we considered him stricken by God,
Smitten by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
And by his wounds we are healed.
He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
And with the rich in his death,
Though he had done no violence,
Nor was any deceit in his mouth.
Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him
And cause him to suffer,
And though the Lord makes his life a guilt offering,
He will see his offspring and prolong his days,
And the will of the Lord will prosper his hand.
For he bore the sins of many,
And made intercession for the transgressors.
In the New Testament we can find plenty of this as well:
“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us” (2 Cor 5:21)
“Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us” when he hung on the cross (Gal 3:10-13)
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree… by his wounds you have been healed.” (1 Peter 2:24)
“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Jesus Christ. God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice…” (Romans 3:24-25)
Plenty more verses can be quoted, but the point is this: there is punishment for sins, there is wrath, and it is severe, and Christ, on that night in the garden when he prayed, looked forward to that wrath. He knew that he would soon stand in as our substitute, that he would absorb the wrath of God, that he would suffer it for us.
Can you imagine that? Can you imagine suffering God’s wrath even for your own sin? How about suffering God’s wrath in place of five other people, could you do it? Christ suffered the entire, eternal wrath of God upon ALL our sin and he did it in three short days. An eternity of God’s wrath condensed into three days… do you think Christ had reason to stress to the sweating of blood?
One last point:
Look again at the Luke passage.
I’m still amazed that despite the coming torment and agony of God’s wrath, Jesus “prayed more earnestly.” If you’d like to know exactly what it is that he prayed, you can find much of in John 17. He prayed not just for himself, nor just for his disciples, he prayed for you and me.
Crazy huh? In a moment of unfathomable strain and stress, despite the impending weight of God’s wrath that hung just over his head, Jesus prayed for you and me.
John 11:45
“Therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, put their faith in him.”
Here, what you see right HERE, is the ultimate goal of all miracles. Though his miracles do demonstrate Christ’s visceral compassion and his powerful desire to physically help the needy, miracles do something far more important at the same time – they draw attention to Christ himself, and stimulate faith in Him.
Something that is so important to see in these miracles is that the goal of any miracle is for people to have faith in CHRIST. I address this because in some instances it is easy for us to have our focus and our faith and all our desires bent on the miracles themselves. There are vast movements of people looking for the miracles Christ can perform rather than Christ himself.
When the Pharisees asked for a miraculous sign (as many today frantically seek) Jesus said back to them, “A wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign! But none will be given it except the sign of the prophet Jonah” (Matt 12:38-39). And by that he meant his own death and resurrection. Don’t be that wicked generation. Seek faith in Christ – value his death and resurrection above all else. When you see the miraculous, honor Christ with faith in him. Do not chase the miraculous for the emotional kick it can give you or for the personal benefit it might afford, chase after Christ.
John 11:47-52
“What are we accomplishing?” [the Pharisees] asked. “Here is the man performing many miraculous signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away our place and our nation.” [Please note their insecurity and thirst for power]
Then one of them, named Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, spoke up, “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.”
He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.”
I’d like to be brief – even though this little passage is so rich – but here’s the amazing thing here. We have the Pharisees, the priests, the High Priest, (and probably a whole mess of Sadducees among those priests)and despite the fact that these people make up the arch nemeses of Christ, God is so awesome he can quash even their convention to prophesy about his own son. Crazy, huh? God can invade the halls of his enemies and speak of himself in glorious language.
The point of this study – Focus on Christ. In all your foci, focus on Christ. Don’t miss the point and run after the miracles or peripheries or the enemies or controversies. Seek him.
