The Humility of Christ and Its Implications: Beyond Polite to Radical, World-changing, God-glorifying Love

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:

  1. Our identity in Christ is freedom from all works, yet we make ourselves servants and do all kinds of works—we are free, free, free and we are servants, servants, servants.
  2. This radical humility of Christ really makes us servants in that it goes beyond mere cordiality to one another and calls us to loving, Christ-exalting, world-changing, being-spent-for-the-gospel humility in the world. There is more here than taking out the trash. Yes, in the humility of Christ, we take out the trash. And in the humility of Christ, we are poured out for the good of this world and glory of his name among the nations.

Jesus Makes Us Really See

In this way everyone will easily be able to learn for himself the limit and discretion, as they say, of his bodily castigations, for he will fast, watch, and labor as much as he finds sufficient to repress the lasciviousness and lust of his body. But those who presume to be justified by works do not regard the mortifying of the lusts, but only the works themselves, and think that if only they have done as many and as great works as are possible , they have done well and have become righteousness . . . This is the height of folly and utter ignorance of Christian life and faith, that a man should seek to be justified and saved by works and without faith.

Martin Luther, The Freedom of a Christian, 296 (emphasis mine)

Luther’s point is very simple: those who trust in their works are incapable of dealing with their real sin problem.

It is only those who believe the gospel, who embrace Jesus Christ as their all-sufficient Savior, who can actually see the ugliness of their hearts and how much they need such a Savior. Faith in the gospel frees the person from focusing so much “out there” and leads him or her to feel the immensity of their inner-brokenness. And in knowing their inner-brokenness, he or she believes the gospel again, considers themselves dead to sin, alive to God in Christ, and so is transformed from one degree of glory to another. This is how sanctification happens. It does not happen—indeed it cannot!— apart from the gospel.

I think that my failure to believe the gospel explains why I cannot always see the ugliness of my heart as clearly as I do at other times. If I’m not recognizing and feeling and hating how ugly it is in my heart then it is because I am trusting in something I do, not in the gospel. What I do or how others perceive me has been hoisted up as a pseudo-savior. This pseudo-savior blinds me from bemoaning my real brokenness, evil, sin, etc. and keeps me from throwing myself on the good news that Jesus has rescued me from all of that.

Faith in Jesus Christ is more dramatic and stunning and daring than what we would have ever imagined.

On Natural Theology: Romans 1:19-20

Romans 1:19-20

“For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.”

Paul says that there is something intelligible about God in creation that is universally plain. More precisely, God’s eternal power and divine nature have been clearly perceived. Paul’s content on general revelation here is describing a demographic of the humanity, i.e., a culture that has incorrectly interpreted nature. These are humans, creatures of God outside of the covenant (1:25; 2:14), who have rejected what can be clearly perceived about God in creation. Their rejection leaves them “without excuse.”

The details of this passage do not lay out for us the specifics of general revelation. They only tell the reader that people can discern enough about God in creation to make them accountable. Creation is set to be interpreted. It does not interpret itself. This passage gives us the converse of what Psalm 19 and Job 38 suggest: this is what happens when nature is interpreted without the intervention of God’s particular revelation.

Calvin writes, “[W]hile some may evaporate in their own superstitions and other deliberately and wickedly desert God, yet all degenerate from the true knowledge of him” (I.IV.1, italics mine.) This passage in Paul demands his explanation in Romans 10:13-17, concluding—“So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

If the human intellect would see God in creation, then God must sanctify the intellect by his work of grace, which we understand to be accomplished definitively in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Seeing nature is a work of gospel grace—it happens only in relation to Jesus Christ and is appropriated by the Holy Spirit.


On Natural Theology: Job 38:36

Job 38:36

“Who has put wisdom in the inward parts or given understanding to the mind?”

This entire section of the Book of Job is worthy of our attention, however, we will limit our discussion to the one verse.

The LORD is speaks to Job and references his work in the natural world as the means to assert his supremacy. The level of reference in v. 36 is the human intellect.[1] However, the reference does not suggest that the genius of the human mind pointing to the LORD’s power is self-evident. In fact, the significance of this passage is that it is the LORD himself condescending to Job in human speech in order to instruct him to see nature.

If Job is to see God in creation, then it will require the invasion of God’s particular revelation to Job’s intellect.



[1] cf. Calvin, I.V.3

On Natural Theology: Psalm 19

Psalm 19:1-3

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.”

Two elements of nature are affirmed in these first three verses: 1) nature says something. This is emphatic: the heavens declare, the sky proclaims, speech is poured out and knowledge is revealed; 2) this revelation is universal in that its speech is discernable. The voice of creation cannot be not heard.

This seems to oppose my position that general revelation cannot interpret itself. How should we understand McGrath in light of Psalm 19 when he writes, “Nature can only exist; it has no mind to interpret, and no tongue to communicate that interpretation” (137).

No tongue to communicate? But Psalm 19 says that it pours out speech, everyday.[1] It is important to note that the remainder of the psalm takes the reader to meditate upon the particular revelation of the LORD in his word—his law, testimony, precepts, commandment, fear, and rules (vv. 7-10). The delight of the David is this testimony (v. 10, cf. Ps. 1:1-2). I think that such an emphasis and delight implies that the revelation of nature is subordinate to the word of God. Moreover, the passage even highlights the primacy of particular revelation by founding this particular revelation to be of the God who is supreme over all creation. David’s recognition of God in the natural world (i.e. Psalm 19:1-6) is the result of God illumining his mind by (and as) the inspired Holy Scripture (cf. Acts 4:25; 2 Peter 2:21; 2 Tim 3:16).


[1] Calvin writes, “Yet, in the first place, wherever you cast your eyes, there is no spot in the universe wherein you cannot discern at least some sparks of his glory. You cannot in one glance survey this most vast and beautiful system of the universe, in its wide expanse, without being completely overwhelmed by the boundless force of its brightness” (I.V.1).

On Natural Theology: Series Introduction

The subject of natural theology or general revelation concerns the knowledge of God that is mediated through the natural world. Alister McGrath provides a brief taxonomy of levels that constitute nature: the observable world, human interaction with the world, and human culture and society. (The Open Secret, 126ff.)

These levels will be used in this review as nature, reason, and culture. It is apparent that there is interdependence between the levels, i.e. people’s reasoning of nature develops culture. Or stated differently: culture is a mass of people who are joined together by their understanding (reason) of the world in which they live.

The question at hand, however, is to what extent the revelation of God is found within these levels that make up natural theology. The foundation of how we understand natural theology says nearly as much as what definitions we may develop. In other words, my appeal to the Holy Scripture to articulate my doctrine of general revelation shows that the function and purpose of general revelation is not self-evident.

Alister McGrath’s position on a “Christian natural theology” is aptly stated when he writes, “A Christian natural theology rests on the premise that, although nature may be publicly observable, the key to its proper interpretation is not given within the natural order itself” (The Open Secret, 139).

My position, in short: correct interpretation of the natural order requires that a human interpreter, within the confines of culture, have his or her intellect invaded by the miraculous, particular revelation of God.[1]

In light of this position, over the next few posts we will, God willing, consider three important passages of Scripture that pertain to general revelation: Psalm 19 (today), Job 38 (Thursday), and Romans 1 (Friday).


[1] Calvin writes, “Therefore, since either the custom of the city or the agreement of tradition is too weak and frail a bond of piety to follows in worshiping God, it remains for God himself to give witness of himself from heaven” (I.V.13, italics mine).

Historical Studies and Our Interpretation of Scripture

In light of my last post, I want to explain more of how I understand the place of historical studies in our reading of Holy Scripture.

Historical studies has a place in our interpretation of the Bible because the Bible is written in human language. Human language is historical phenomena and the Bible’s language is thousands of years old. The parameter of historical studies to philology is more in line with the nature of Scripture—God’s revelation in text. Moreover, God’s revelation in text-testimony of God’s Text—the Logos, Jesus Christ.

Attention to the text will inevitably take us beyond language to concept since the two are so inseparably united. And it is here where I think we have our limits. Concepts are helpful insomuch as they are studied in relationship to language, in the effort of understanding text. And I think the primary area for studying these concepts is the canon, that is, the greater narrative of Scripture. And these concepts of the greater narrative of Scripture inform—but do not determine— apostolic meaning.

This is one reason why I think the Biblical Theology Movement has been so beneficial to biblical studies. It has readjusted the criticism of the 18th and 19th centuries to focus on the Holy Scripture itself with the dogmatic foundation that there really is one message—it is biblical studies based on what the Bible is.

The Greatest Barrier Between Us and This Book

There is no doubt that visiting Turkey is really cool. I would love to check out the ancient ruins and take lots of photos for my desktop. But if that makes the Bible “come alive” for me then I’ve been doing something wrong.

Contact with the history of the Bible may seem to accentuate the text—and it indeed helps people. But there is a potential expense too great to risk. All the searching in history to vivify the Holy Scripture may actually blur what the Holy Scripture actually is. Yes, a document written in history. Yes, a document written by humans who lived in that history. But more than anything, the revelation of God. This Book is an action, the work of the triune God to reveal himself and reconcile a people for his own.

The greatest barrier between us and this Book is not the history and culture that separate us from its human authors, but the heart of darkness that separates us from its divine author. We need faith more than understanding the geographical layout of Asia Minor. We come to the Holy Scripture in need of an illumining work, not a historicizing one.

It’s the Message that Matters

So today was the day in our OT class. Having read essays by Longman, Enns, and Sparks, we were set to interact with some critical issues of the Old Testament: Adam is historical? Explain the land of Nod. How should we understand the creation narrative of Genesis 1-2? What about the Ancient Near Eastern accounts?

Three hours of a discussion like this is only worthwhile when the foundation of the discussion affirms that these things are only secondary issues at best. The how of Genesis 1-2 must be submitted first and foremost to the why of Genesis 1-2 — or as Jason DeRouchie says of the text, “see the sermon.” What the Old Testament authors really cared about is the message.

The main error at stake when examining the ‘how issues’ behind the text is that they can distract us from the ‘main issue of the text.’ To be the truest to the text, to the human authors who wrote it, and the triune God who inspired it, we should come to the text as recipients of the LORD’s covenant love. We come to the text in faith and we come to find revelation.

What Do You Do When You Must Study What You Don’t Feel Like Studying?

What do you do when you must study what you don’t feel like studying?

This is a question for which every seminarian has some kind of answer. The default answer usually makes up two opposing sides of the spectrum: on one end, just don’t study;  on the other end, bite the bullet and study anyway.

I don’t think either option glorifies God, which is our goal in every form of study— especially theology. The immediate corrective is to pray and ask the Father to help us. He has the power and the wealth of grace in Jesus Christ to change our desire. And the way this change happens likely comes through means: a cup of coffee, classical music, rearrangement of study space, preaching the gospel to yourself, etc.

One such means that helps me is to read in a book of interest unrelated to the topic of study that demands my attention. The book may be from another class or it may not even be assigned at all. I have found that pursuing my interest stimulates my study of things that were previously unattractive to me. Don’t dwell on another book to make it a distraction, but use it to get the engine of your cognition cranked up, then jump into whatever came short of igniting your studious passions.