1 John 2:15-17 makes clear one command—“do not love the world or the things in the world.”
We are Christians and love is a big deal. God has designed it that love be central to our identity (1 John 2:10-11; John 13:34-35). We are to be gripped by God’s love for us and moved by our love for others. And the thing with our love is that it’s not just about what we do love, but also about what we don’t.
Read the whole post: The Christian Identity: Loved, Loving, and Not Loving | Fighter Verses.
John Webster on the Givenness of Neighbors
An excerpt of an excerpt:
Love involves my acknowledgement that I am obliged by my neighbor as a reality given to me by God, a reality which I would often like to evade but which encounters me with a transcendent imperative force (Webster, Holiness, 97).
A few Derek Webb songs convinced me that I was a little too easy on myself in the previous post. I do have Americanism issues. I do like stuff. I like stuff even when it’s not mine, as long as it’s around here somewhere.
Now, the question is “Do I like stuff more than people?” Of course not. Nobody does. Give a man all the stuff there is and make him a loner— he’ll never make it. Everyone needs others. We are communal creatures. But beware of over-accessorizing community.
There is something to appreciate about a community’s rawness. One thing that we should help one another with is getting bare. No hype. No stuff. Just us. Us, together. Creatures of God put in relation to one another in Jesus Christ. I think this is what makes me love Bonhoeffer’s Life Together so much. It is real to the core.
May the Father grant us such community.
My family and I got an out-of-blue opportunity to spend a couple of nights outside of the cities at a condo in the northern country. It was a gift from the Lord to get away before winter sets in. The autumn is my favorite time of year in Minneapolis (unless its spring or summer).
Lots of the time away was still spent working and studying, but the air was cleaner and the nights were like vacation. It was a wonderful time and enough space to provoke some thought.
I would not like to live somewhere like that, way out there in the country. It is too disconnected. There aren’t enough people out there and my vocation has everything to do with people. But I wondered, “Is it people that I would miss out here?” . . . “Isn’t it a break from the hustle and bustle of people that make such a trip so satisfying?” . . . “what about this would get old?”
It dawned on me that it wasn’t only people I’d miss, but consumption. It was good to get away from all the advertisements, all the industry, all the commercial. And it would be the absence of these things that would be missed after a while. Is this is my Americanism seeping through? Or is this part and parcel to culture, and therefore, people?
I think its both, but people mainly. I like culture. I like people and their work. I like to be around that, loving the good and hating the bad.
And my hope is that all of my indigenous USA appetites would give way to a pilgrim principle that craves a better city—one that has lots of people, from every tribe and tongue and nation.
Yesterday in BCS chapel I preached from Philippians 2:1-11 and tried to connect the real issue of Christ’s humility in vv. 6-11 to the “have this mind” command v. 5.
The humility of Christ (vv. 6-8), I think, is better understood in light of the exaltation detailed in vv. 9-11. I think that Paul’s recognition of Jesus as the divine identity (Isa. 45:23) sheds light on what it means that Jesus “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped.” Because the issue of vv. 9-11 and Isa. 45 are primarily about identity, I think that “equality with God” is less about divine privileges of how much ‘godness’ Jesus gave up, and more about how he yielded the vindication of his identity to the Father.
In radical, other-worldly humility, Jesus yielded the vindication of his identity on the cross to the Father who raised him from the dead and declared him to be the Son of God in power (Luke 23:35-38; Rom 1:1-4).
I think this exemplary humility of Christ has heavy implications for us:
Although the Christian is thus free from all works, he ought in this liberty to empty himself, take upon himself the form of a servant, be made in the likeness of men, be found in human form, and to serve, help, and in every way deal with his neighbor as he sees that God through Christ has dealt and still deals with him. This he should do freely, having regard for nothing but divine approval.
He ought to think: “Although I am an unworthy and condemned man, my God has given me in Christ all the riches of righteousness and salvation without any merit on my part, out of pure, free mercy, so that from now on I need nothing except faith which believes that this is true . . .
Why should I not therefore freely, joyfully, with all my heart, and with an eager will do all things which I know are pleasing and acceptable to such a Father who has overwhelmed me with his inestimable riches? I will therefore give myself as a Christ to my neighbor, just as Christ offered himself to me; I will do nothing in this life except what I see is necessary, profitable, and salutary to my neighbor, since through faith I have an abundance of all good things in Christ.”
Martin Luther, The Freedom of a Christian, 304
I like Francis Chan, Mark Driscoll, and Joshua Harris.
Via Justin Taylor, it is a neat thing to watch the three interact in a recent video by The Gospel Coalition. Driscoll diverts the conversation to questioning Chan for this recent resignation from Cornerstone Church in Simi Valley, CA–the local church where he has served as the founding pastor/primary preacher for the past 16 years. Driscoll doesn’t get why he left.
Chan’s response is gracious. To say what he said more bluntly: Chan would comeback at Driscoll’s question “Why did you leave your church?” with a simple “because I don’t want to be like you.”
Chan is uncomfortable with being a celebrity pastor. He doesn’t like it. Driscoll really shows how different his perspective on the subject is when he comments about three minutes in, “go multi-site.” He is implying that Cornerstone have a multiplicity of campuses with Chan as the preaching pastor, one being in LA. No way—that would undermine exactly what Chan is avoiding.
Chan leaving Cornerstone is because he loves her. I think that he realizes he has set Cornerstone up in such a way that the life of the church is becoming inseparably woven with his own preaching ministry. His decision to step down is a pivotal move to resist having a church built after his own personality. His move is an endeavor to have Cornerstone be characterized by gospel faithfulness and not merely have the legacy of hosting a dynamic pastor with growing international influence.
The move is courageous and humble. I appreciate the trail he is blazing and I desire its character in my life and in the brethen’s. Amen.
I thought that when I saw Melissa on our wedding day that my categories for beauty were maxed out. “This is it. Wow.”
And three years later I am surrounded by eyes like this. And smiles that put a frog in my throat. Elizabeth and Hannah have not surpassed Melissa’s beauty—they’ve actually amplified it. A white dress and a big cake and heavenly violin music in the background pales in comparison to Melissa as Mom. She only becomes more lovely.
Forgiveness in Islam is arbitrary. In Islam, Allah’s forgiveness is not in reference to anything but Allah’s whimsical prerogative. There is no assurance. No referential guarantee. There is nothing to point to, nothing to stand on.
The forgiveness of sins that is found in the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is amazingly different. The LORD’s freedom in election is different in that it was a Trinitarian action–a work performed in the mind of the LORD’s intratrinitarian fellowship. For those who embrace Jesus Christ by faith, our election (the Father) was “in Christ” (the Son) for the purpose of “being holy and blameless” (the Spirit) (Eph 1:4). Election was not arbitrary because it does not exist without reference to the death and resurrection of Christ or the perfecting work of the Spirit.
The “who” of election may seem arbitrary as in “that guy and not this one.” But election is not drawing from a hat, nor is it a “pick your team.” It is instead the creative work of God to make for himself a people. It is a work ex nihilo–calling into existence that which does not exist (Rom 4:17). And this creative work of election before the foundation of the world comes into fruition as people all over the world put their faith in Jesus Christ. Faith in Jesus Christ is an integral episode in God’s salvation of sinners, stemming from the creative love of the Father and pointing to the perfecting work of the Holy Spirit.
It doesn’t matter how messed up you are. That’s what makes grace a controversy. The cry for mercy like David’s in Psalm 51 will not go unheard. This is a holy cry.
We can identify with David because his prayer here must incessantly be our own. The cry for mercy is not only an action of forsaking all other options. The cry for mercy must also be an embrace, a continual embrace. The cry for mercy is confident and focused. It is according to something, that is, according to the LORD’s steadfast love.
What necessitates the life of praying for mercy is not the accumulation of guilt but the absolute extinguishment of it by Another. The cry for mercy is not a license to live in darkness, but a testimony that we have been transferred into the kingdom of light. We don’t ask for mercy because we are enslaved to a life of sin. “Create in me a clean heart! (v. 10).”
The prayer for mercy encompasses our sorrow for sin and our hope in the work of Christ. We ask for mercy in reference to Jesus Christ who bore the wrath we deserved, removed our sins, and freed us from bondage.
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;”
Amen.
