The question I grapple with in this post is twofold: “Should our obedience to civil power and authority (governments) be absolute and unquestioning?” and “Is there a legitimate exercise of civil disobedience for Christians?” The three NT passages most reflective of apostolic teaching on the subject are Romans 13:1-10, Titus 3:1-8 and 1 Peter 2:13-17.
In essence, my argument runs as follows: I don’t believe that these passages are teaching blind and unthinking obedience to the will of government as is too often understood by Christians; rather they are teaching that it should be the normal, everyday, God-honouring experience of believers to be obedient, which is not the same thing. When the full context of these verses, especially Romans 13:8-10, is considered, we see the sharp outline of obedience against the background of God’s moral law. That is to say, obedience as a right attitude or action must be in keeping with God’s law and can not be divorced from it, without great risk. This means that for a government to act as “a minister of God to you for good” it must not ask the believer to contravene God’s law. A government looses its God-given authority when it—by its laws or demands upon its citizens—causes any to break the law of God and thus commit sin.
The question for the believer then is simple: “Will my submission to this law be wrong or cause harm?” In other words, “Will I be breaking God’s law if I submit to this human law?” And it would seem from Romans 13:8-10 (as well as Titus 3:8 and 1 Peter 2:15) that if the answer for the believer is “Yes, this would cause harm and would be wrong” (in light of God’s law) then he must not submit, or at least limit his submission as much as his conscience and his circumstances will allow.
The only qualifying factor is that Paul, in Romans, speaks of love for one’s neighbour and indeed reminds his readers of the great commandment of our Lord, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” (Lev.19:18; Mark 12:31) which is often referred to as one of the two great summary statements of God’s Law. And he has just finished saying that if you love your neighbour you will do him no wrong or harm. It would seem then that only one question remains, “Who is my neighbour?” Another man asked that of the Lord a long time ago and we remember the Lord gave him his answer in the form of a parable (Luke 10:25-37).
In the parable, a man is robbed, beaten and left by the side of the road for dead. He is passed by and ignored by two travelers, both representatives of the proper authorities. However, a contemptible stranger—a Samaritan—is also on the road that day and discovers the beaten man. His immediate response is to help him and get him to a place of safety so he could convalesce in peace, even providing the wherewithal for him to do so. This parable is used by Christ to help us understand what His message is about and what expectations He has of His followers. In telling His story, the Lord is saying that the definition of who our neighbour is must be expanded and thought of in a completely new way. Our neighbour, according to Christ, is the one who suffers when we can rescue, the one who struggles when we can lift up, the one who cries when we can comfort.
Peter says we should submit to “…every ordinance of man for the Lord’s sake” (1 Peter 2:13) whether such ordinances are from the highest authority in the land or from designated governors. We should do this, says Peter, voluntarily as people free to choose and act. This sense of voluntary subjection is also found in Roman 13:1 where the word translated as “be subject” has connotations of a subjection that is freely given and not compelled. Such subjection should be consistent with the moral and saintly lives we now have as God's adopted sons and daughters. Peter's qualification—that we should act this way for the sake of Jesus—introduces the notion that there may legitimately be times when obedience to human authorities places us in opposition to the will of God. Remember that Christ came to the cross to fulfill all righteousness; to fulfill the law as a substitutionary sacrifice. In light of this, the Christian must use as his only criteria the law of God and the life and death of Christ that was the law’s fulfillment. If he can see no conflict between this and the demands being made by his government, then he is free to obey the government. But if the demands of the government would necessitate the Christian to wrong or harm his neighbour, he is not free to obey but must disobey for the sake of Christ.
An example we take from scripture is Acts 4:5-21. Because Peter and John had just healed a man in the name of Christ, and were preaching the gospel against the wishes of the authorities, they were thrown into jail and later brought before the Sanhedrin or ruling council (the proper and legitimate governing authority of the Jews). After some interrogation, the Council decided to order them to desist from spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ. Peter and John both responded by saying in effect that the Sanhedrin could do as it pleased (which could have resulted in the death of the two apostles) but that both of them would continue to testify about Jesus. Thereupon, due mainly to public pressure, they were released. This scene is important as it shows the two seemingly breaking their own apostolic admonition to obey the proper authorities. In this case the Sanhedrin had, by the time of the apostles, become corrupt through the gradual turning away from the law as given by God's Holy Spirit and the ossification of the institution into a largely man-made structure ruled by tradition. Jesus recognized the same thing when he confronted the rulers and called them “white-washed sepulchers.” Incidentally, this is an ironic example of the admonition by Paul in verse seven of the passage from Romans, “Render to all what is due them: tax to whom tax is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honour to whom honour.” In calling the rulers white-washed sepulchers the Lord was indeed rendering them their due, but it was their right and proper due from His perspective, not theirs.
And too, we have testimony from such Reformation luminaries as the Scottish Presbyterian and Westminster divine Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661) who, in his work Lex Rex, argued that when the government gave up its rightful authority as delegated from God it became an instrument of oppression and should be resisted. One of the points of Lex Rex is that the Law (Lex) is king (Rex) and not the reverse, so rulers are not to be a law unto themselves. Nor should they use the law for unlawful ends. Other godly men of the Reformation have also either resorted to civil disobedience or have defended it in principle, including Martin Luther (1483-1546), William Tyndale (c.1490-1536), John Knox (1505-1572) and John Bunyan (1628-1688). Two modern defenders of the Christian’s right to civil disobedience were Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945) and Francis Schaeffer (1912-1984). I cite these examples simply to point out the fact that Christians have a history of resorting to civil disobedience in the face of an authority that forces them to do wrong and to break God’s commandments. (Nowadays many of us tend to forget that the Reformation was itself the greatest of all Christian movements of civil disobedience.)
I should clarify, at this point, that this argument applies to believing Christians only, those whose consciences are, like Luther’s, “taken captive by the word of God.” I believe that they have a justifiable excuse for civil disobedience in some circumstances, simply because they are, paradoxically, trying to be obedient to law. But the law which they attempt to obey is a higher law. It is in fact God’s law, which Christians are not to willingly disobey.
This issue of civil disobedience is far from clear and whatever believing people think, I believe they should be patient with others who are going through much distress over the issue. Yet one thing is clear: each believer must respond according to the dictates of a conscience ruled not by the opinions of others, but by God, who is Lord of the conscience (WCF 20:2). Let us therefore be ruled by God’s requirements first, then by consciences ready to be forgiving and charitable to brothers and sisters who may disagree but are ready to put everything on the line for their convictions.
(It is my own conviction that the Christian religion, to the degree it maintains integrity with the commands and teachings of Christ, will always run afoul of human (as well as spiritual) powers, authorities and dominions. It cannot be otherwise. The teachings—not to mention the actions—of Christ are prominently and unashamedly counter-cultural and anti-worldly. There is simply no way for true biblical Christianity to co-exist on a peaceful footing with any other rival authority. This means that true biblical Christianity will always be in a state of persecution to one degree or another. And that degree is determined, not by the standards of the world, but by its own internal standards. As Christians more strictly maintain those standards, the more they will be persecuted.)
Soli Deo Gloria.
Monday 30 July 2007
Monday 23 July 2007
On Perusing Some Old Journals
We are in the middle of some renovations at our house. What started off as a fairly straightforward replacement of some old carpeting in a couple of bedrooms has somehow blossomed into a full-on revitalization project for the entire upper floor of our home. As part of the renovations, we had to dismantle and move several pieces of furniture, one of which was an old oak desk which I had used for a short while in one of the bedrooms before my son came back home to “start over.” (We decided to wait until our son had got himself re-established before doing any work upstairs, as he was occupying one of the rooms.) It was a big heavy old desk with lots of drawers and the whole thing had to be dismantled and moved, section by section, downstairs into our family room in order to allow the upstairs renovations to proceed.
One evening last week, while sitting and reading next to the old desk, I took a notion to go through some of the drawers to throw out old files and paperwork I deemed no longer important. In the course of doing so, I happened upon several old journals of mine (one going back to the early seventies). Needless to say, upon their discovery, I just had to stop and take a sachet down memory lane, if only for a few minutes. What I discovered was not quite a shock but it did leave me in wonder at the extent of God’s love and mercy for wayward sinners, who find it so easy to run away from the one thing they most desperately need.
While many entries in my journals were harmless enough and explored ideas for articles and plays I wanted to write, or were lists of one sort or another, too many entries were concerned with “mystical” experiences, philosophical ramblings, metaphysical ruminations, recounting of lucid dreams of a distinctly other-worldly nature and that sort of thing. Being a member of the baby-boomer generation, I was also one of the original “new-age” devotees, whose spiritual life was characterized by syncretism, superstition, rampant subjectivity and a magical approach to religious matters. Journal entries dealing with subjects of Celtic Mysticism, Kaballah, Buddhism, Sufism, Numerology, Astrology, Alchemy, Neo-Platonism, Rosicrucianism and the like abound. Most of this may seem harmless enough now, but in more than one entry, I recounted incidents and dreams in which strange, magical events were taking place and in which I was interacting with entities that were definitely non-human. In one entry, dated September 4, 1989, I describe a “shaman walk” in which I came into contact and conversed with the druidic, Celtic God Cernunnos. Needless to say, as I read this entry now, I am mortified. I believe that it is possible that I was in the presence of a demonic entity. In those days I was completely lost in a world totally at odds with the God of the Bible. I believe that there was a connection between my confused inner life and my outer life which would soon fall apart because of my growing alcoholism and my lack of true spiritual sustenance. These entries record encounters and experiences that were far from harmless. They are the record of one who came perilously close to what is often euphemistically called “insanity” by those who don’t know any better; by those who themselves are caught up in the “therapeutic” paradigm of human motivation, belief and behaviour. They are the record of one who was indeed playing with fire, but who was so desperately lost, that even this bizarre counterfeit was better than the emptiness and separation of being without Christ. Seeded randomly throughout the journals are several references to Christ and the bible but almost all are from this “new age” perspective, which is nothing other than the religious garb that Humanism uses to placate the more spiritually sensitive of its disciples.
I say all this as a kind of context because, as I read entry after entry (most of which, as I say—in spite of the impression I might just have given you—were in fact quite harmless, but grossly mistaken nevertheless) I was struck by how far away I seemed to be from Christ. Paradoxically, while I seemed to be one who was truly seeking God, (I believe I was, but was nevertheless caught in the clutches of superstitious error) I was simultaneously running away from God, trying not to discover Him. What might seem to be the writing of a sincere seeker after truth and godliness was in fact nothing other than the record of one who was trying to escape the scrutiny of God; just as did Adam and Eve in the garden and as did Jonah when he refused to preach the Gospel to the people of Nineveh and ran as fast and as hard as he could away from God.
Can this be true? Does not the Bible say that no one really seeks God, that no one is really righteous, “as it is written, ‘THERE IS NONE RIGHTEOUS, NOT EVEN ONE’” (Romans 3:10)? Given this, could I really be seeking, yet simultaneously not seeking God? I believe in my case that I was, because I believe that when I was just a young boy, Christ came to me during a Christmas play at church, and even then put His mark upon me; perhaps not the mark of complete salvation, but rather the mark of promise. I was like the apostle Peter whose faith, in spite of all the bravado, needed help from the Master. But I soon turned to backsliding and before I entered my teen years, left the church. I was even then in rebellion, thinking to close the door on the One who could save me from my sin. I was probably one of those described by Paul: “For even though they knew God, they did not honour Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures…. And we know that the judgment of God rightly falls upon those who practice such things.” (Romans 1:21-23, 2:2). And indeed the judgment of God did fall upon me heavily. Anyone who knew me then could attest to the lost condition, the misery and the sense of hopelessness that characterized my life. I was one of those Paul describes, “But because of your stubbornness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God” (Romans 2:5). And indeed, I was storing up wrath through rebellion.
And this is what causes me to wonder greatly at the loving-kindness of God. For when I was still a sinner, he came to me again; not because of any merit in me whatsoever, but only because it was His sovereign good pleasure to do so. I am now no longer able to “think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance” (Romans 2:4) for now I know that kindness and have been made a recipient of it. This infinite patience of God for sinners is a truth that is personally overwhelming.
It is something for someone to talk about such things when they have no personal experience and therefore no real conviction of it; it is another thing altogether to be so far removed from God’s love and obedience to Him and to know, beyond doubt, that you are lost as a result. For make no mistake, the lost know their condition. Their ignorance is only superficial as Paul reminds us, “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse” (Romans 1:20).
Yet we have a faithful and true God, who does not change and with whom “there is no variation or shifting shadow” (James 1:17). And it is because of His faithfulness and His trustworthiness that we have a hope of redemption and the salvation of even the most depraved of souls.
Later the same evening that I read through the old journals, as part of my ongoing practice I turned to the chapter in James Montgomery Boice’s commentary on Romans wherein he recounts an anecdote told by Ray Stedman, From Guilt to Glory, vol. 1, Hope for the Helpless (Portland: Multnomah Press, 1978), p. 302: “Years ago Harry A. Ironside, that great bible teacher, told a story about an older Christian who was asked to give his testimony. He told how God had sought him out and found him, how God loved him, called him, saved him, delivered him, cleansed him, and healed him—a great witness to the grace, power and glory of God. But after the meeting a rather legalistic brother took him aside and criticized his testimony, as certain of us like to do. He said, ‘I appreciated all you said about what God did for you. But you didn’t mention anything about your part in it. Salvation is really part us and part God. You should have mentioned something about your part.’ ‘Oh, yes,’ the older Christian said. ‘I apologize for that. I’m sorry. I really should have said something about my part. My part was running away, and his part was running after me until he caught me.’”
Oh, what a glorious God we have in the triune God of the Bible. Let us never cease from praising Him and offering up to Him the glory that is His due for His great loving-kindness to us, “And Isaiah is very bold and says, ‘I WAS FOUND BY THOSE WHO DID NOT SEEK ME, I BECAME MANIFEST TO THOSE WHO DID NOT ASK FOR ME.’” (Romans 10:20).
Soli Deo Gloria.
One evening last week, while sitting and reading next to the old desk, I took a notion to go through some of the drawers to throw out old files and paperwork I deemed no longer important. In the course of doing so, I happened upon several old journals of mine (one going back to the early seventies). Needless to say, upon their discovery, I just had to stop and take a sachet down memory lane, if only for a few minutes. What I discovered was not quite a shock but it did leave me in wonder at the extent of God’s love and mercy for wayward sinners, who find it so easy to run away from the one thing they most desperately need.
While many entries in my journals were harmless enough and explored ideas for articles and plays I wanted to write, or were lists of one sort or another, too many entries were concerned with “mystical” experiences, philosophical ramblings, metaphysical ruminations, recounting of lucid dreams of a distinctly other-worldly nature and that sort of thing. Being a member of the baby-boomer generation, I was also one of the original “new-age” devotees, whose spiritual life was characterized by syncretism, superstition, rampant subjectivity and a magical approach to religious matters. Journal entries dealing with subjects of Celtic Mysticism, Kaballah, Buddhism, Sufism, Numerology, Astrology, Alchemy, Neo-Platonism, Rosicrucianism and the like abound. Most of this may seem harmless enough now, but in more than one entry, I recounted incidents and dreams in which strange, magical events were taking place and in which I was interacting with entities that were definitely non-human. In one entry, dated September 4, 1989, I describe a “shaman walk” in which I came into contact and conversed with the druidic, Celtic God Cernunnos. Needless to say, as I read this entry now, I am mortified. I believe that it is possible that I was in the presence of a demonic entity. In those days I was completely lost in a world totally at odds with the God of the Bible. I believe that there was a connection between my confused inner life and my outer life which would soon fall apart because of my growing alcoholism and my lack of true spiritual sustenance. These entries record encounters and experiences that were far from harmless. They are the record of one who came perilously close to what is often euphemistically called “insanity” by those who don’t know any better; by those who themselves are caught up in the “therapeutic” paradigm of human motivation, belief and behaviour. They are the record of one who was indeed playing with fire, but who was so desperately lost, that even this bizarre counterfeit was better than the emptiness and separation of being without Christ. Seeded randomly throughout the journals are several references to Christ and the bible but almost all are from this “new age” perspective, which is nothing other than the religious garb that Humanism uses to placate the more spiritually sensitive of its disciples.
I say all this as a kind of context because, as I read entry after entry (most of which, as I say—in spite of the impression I might just have given you—were in fact quite harmless, but grossly mistaken nevertheless) I was struck by how far away I seemed to be from Christ. Paradoxically, while I seemed to be one who was truly seeking God, (I believe I was, but was nevertheless caught in the clutches of superstitious error) I was simultaneously running away from God, trying not to discover Him. What might seem to be the writing of a sincere seeker after truth and godliness was in fact nothing other than the record of one who was trying to escape the scrutiny of God; just as did Adam and Eve in the garden and as did Jonah when he refused to preach the Gospel to the people of Nineveh and ran as fast and as hard as he could away from God.
Can this be true? Does not the Bible say that no one really seeks God, that no one is really righteous, “as it is written, ‘THERE IS NONE RIGHTEOUS, NOT EVEN ONE’” (Romans 3:10)? Given this, could I really be seeking, yet simultaneously not seeking God? I believe in my case that I was, because I believe that when I was just a young boy, Christ came to me during a Christmas play at church, and even then put His mark upon me; perhaps not the mark of complete salvation, but rather the mark of promise. I was like the apostle Peter whose faith, in spite of all the bravado, needed help from the Master. But I soon turned to backsliding and before I entered my teen years, left the church. I was even then in rebellion, thinking to close the door on the One who could save me from my sin. I was probably one of those described by Paul: “For even though they knew God, they did not honour Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures…. And we know that the judgment of God rightly falls upon those who practice such things.” (Romans 1:21-23, 2:2). And indeed the judgment of God did fall upon me heavily. Anyone who knew me then could attest to the lost condition, the misery and the sense of hopelessness that characterized my life. I was one of those Paul describes, “But because of your stubbornness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God” (Romans 2:5). And indeed, I was storing up wrath through rebellion.
And this is what causes me to wonder greatly at the loving-kindness of God. For when I was still a sinner, he came to me again; not because of any merit in me whatsoever, but only because it was His sovereign good pleasure to do so. I am now no longer able to “think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance” (Romans 2:4) for now I know that kindness and have been made a recipient of it. This infinite patience of God for sinners is a truth that is personally overwhelming.
It is something for someone to talk about such things when they have no personal experience and therefore no real conviction of it; it is another thing altogether to be so far removed from God’s love and obedience to Him and to know, beyond doubt, that you are lost as a result. For make no mistake, the lost know their condition. Their ignorance is only superficial as Paul reminds us, “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse” (Romans 1:20).
Yet we have a faithful and true God, who does not change and with whom “there is no variation or shifting shadow” (James 1:17). And it is because of His faithfulness and His trustworthiness that we have a hope of redemption and the salvation of even the most depraved of souls.
Later the same evening that I read through the old journals, as part of my ongoing practice I turned to the chapter in James Montgomery Boice’s commentary on Romans wherein he recounts an anecdote told by Ray Stedman, From Guilt to Glory, vol. 1, Hope for the Helpless (Portland: Multnomah Press, 1978), p. 302: “Years ago Harry A. Ironside, that great bible teacher, told a story about an older Christian who was asked to give his testimony. He told how God had sought him out and found him, how God loved him, called him, saved him, delivered him, cleansed him, and healed him—a great witness to the grace, power and glory of God. But after the meeting a rather legalistic brother took him aside and criticized his testimony, as certain of us like to do. He said, ‘I appreciated all you said about what God did for you. But you didn’t mention anything about your part in it. Salvation is really part us and part God. You should have mentioned something about your part.’ ‘Oh, yes,’ the older Christian said. ‘I apologize for that. I’m sorry. I really should have said something about my part. My part was running away, and his part was running after me until he caught me.’”
Oh, what a glorious God we have in the triune God of the Bible. Let us never cease from praising Him and offering up to Him the glory that is His due for His great loving-kindness to us, “And Isaiah is very bold and says, ‘I WAS FOUND BY THOSE WHO DID NOT SEEK ME, I BECAME MANIFEST TO THOSE WHO DID NOT ASK FOR ME.’” (Romans 10:20).
Soli Deo Gloria.
Sunday 22 July 2007
On Pilate, and the Persecution of God’s Remnant
On a doleful morning long ago, darkness was confronted by light, and the darkness understood it not, nor overcame it. Pontius Pilate was confronted by Jesus Christ. The man Pilate was in a position of apparent judgment: the world in judgment of the divine; the Devil in judgment of the Son of God. Here was a natural man confronted by the living Truth and who willfully refused to discern it. Instead, he resorted to the wisdom of the world and began to question Jesus in order to discover who He was. Yet Christ confounded Pilate’s worldly questioning with His divine silence. And when Pilate convinced himself that there was no real harm in Jesus, he thought of how he might let him go. This is how the world begins to treat the Church. By exposing her to the neutralizing influence of its own worldly wisdom, it believes it has made the Church safe and to be no different than any other belief system, just as Pilate came to think that Jesus was no different than any other small-time trouble-maker or Rabbi. At first Pilate was disposed to favour Christ by choosing to believe Him to be harmless and inoffensive; in the same fashion the world has been disposed to be tolerant and favourable to the Church. And, in fact, in its cloying and deceitful tolerance and favour, the world has actually neutralized the Church (at least in the developed world) and has made her harmless. She is no longer a threat to the world. In many cases, she has now been either neutralized to the point of being a laughing stock, or else she goes a-whoring after the very same corrupt values and standards of the world that are so soundly condemned by Scripture.
Yet for many people merely neutralizing the Church is insufficient. They are threatened by the light of the Gospel even when it burns but dimly and, like the mob in Jerusalem that day, would have it extinguished altogether; the indifferently tolerant who are in the world, like Pilate facing Jesus, will inevitably give sway to the growing fear-mongering of the intolerant mob. And just as Pilate tried to do that awful morning long ago, the tolerant ones will endeavor to quiet and placate the increasing hostility from the ones who feel most threatened. Just so, Pilate had the Christ scourged, in the mistaken hope that such an act would coddle the hostility of the Christ-haters. Yet when the mob perceives this tolerance as being sympathetic with the Church, the tolerant ones, in the name of tolerance, will quickly disavow themselves of any relationship and the faithful Church of the Remnant will be given over to authorities who will persecute it with increasing fury, just as Pilate gave Christ over to the soldiers after washing his hands. And when even that fails and the biblically faithful Church emerges from her persecution bent but undiminished in faith, the mob will resort to more permanent measures, just as did Pilate when he realized that all his attempts at neutralizing Christ and placating the mob had failed.
So we see in Pilate’s encounter with Christ a pattern for the world’s encounter with the faithful. And as Pilate did to Christ, so the world will do to the Church. As you have seen if you have followed the links above, much of the Church today has been hoodwinked by the devil (who was the real adversary confronting Christ) and has fallen victim to his soft wooing, going whoring after the things of the world. But the faithful Church will increasingly be persecuted until the end. If we are not hated, we are not disciples!
But in all of this, let us not forget that all these things took place by God’s “determinate counsel” as it is in the KJV, or by the “predetermined plan and foreknowledge” of God as it is in the NASB (Acts 2:23), as part of the great plan of salvation first announced in Genesis 3:15. God used Pilate, an ungodly man, to be the instrument (one among many) by which the original proto-euangelion of Genesis 3 would be accomplished. Does not this stagger the imagination and more importantly beggar one’s pride?
So then, let us take some comfort. Persecution will come; it is promised and prophesied. We will suffer, but in our suffering we share in the very life of Christ. This is the day that the LORD has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Yet for many people merely neutralizing the Church is insufficient. They are threatened by the light of the Gospel even when it burns but dimly and, like the mob in Jerusalem that day, would have it extinguished altogether; the indifferently tolerant who are in the world, like Pilate facing Jesus, will inevitably give sway to the growing fear-mongering of the intolerant mob. And just as Pilate tried to do that awful morning long ago, the tolerant ones will endeavor to quiet and placate the increasing hostility from the ones who feel most threatened. Just so, Pilate had the Christ scourged, in the mistaken hope that such an act would coddle the hostility of the Christ-haters. Yet when the mob perceives this tolerance as being sympathetic with the Church, the tolerant ones, in the name of tolerance, will quickly disavow themselves of any relationship and the faithful Church of the Remnant will be given over to authorities who will persecute it with increasing fury, just as Pilate gave Christ over to the soldiers after washing his hands. And when even that fails and the biblically faithful Church emerges from her persecution bent but undiminished in faith, the mob will resort to more permanent measures, just as did Pilate when he realized that all his attempts at neutralizing Christ and placating the mob had failed.
So we see in Pilate’s encounter with Christ a pattern for the world’s encounter with the faithful. And as Pilate did to Christ, so the world will do to the Church. As you have seen if you have followed the links above, much of the Church today has been hoodwinked by the devil (who was the real adversary confronting Christ) and has fallen victim to his soft wooing, going whoring after the things of the world. But the faithful Church will increasingly be persecuted until the end. If we are not hated, we are not disciples!
But in all of this, let us not forget that all these things took place by God’s “determinate counsel” as it is in the KJV, or by the “predetermined plan and foreknowledge” of God as it is in the NASB (Acts 2:23), as part of the great plan of salvation first announced in Genesis 3:15. God used Pilate, an ungodly man, to be the instrument (one among many) by which the original proto-euangelion of Genesis 3 would be accomplished. Does not this stagger the imagination and more importantly beggar one’s pride?
So then, let us take some comfort. Persecution will come; it is promised and prophesied. We will suffer, but in our suffering we share in the very life of Christ. This is the day that the LORD has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Monday 16 July 2007
Learning Greek
I’m teaching myself biblical Greek.
Oh, I can hear the reaction: “What—is he mad?”
Yes, I probably am mad, at least semi-mad anyway. What man approaching sixty would even consider doing something like this? I mean, most men my age take up golf or spend quality-time bouncing grandchildren on their knee (one at a time, presumably). I’ve never been like that. Besides, my son has yet to engender any offspring. When I was less than half the age I am now, I began to translate the Old Testament from Hebrew into English. Did I know Hebrew? No. Was I trained as a translator? No. Did I have any qualifications whatsoever to undertake such a task? No. Did I finish my undertaking? Regrettably, no.
I’ve been contemplating this for some time now but have always been intimidated by the enormity of the undertaking. I’ve been using various Greek aids, lexicons and the like for a long time but that can only take your understanding so far and it is easy to get things wrong or out of context that way. Some people would consider me to be foolish or worse, a dilettante. Well, perhaps I am a little foolish; but for what, exactly? Am I foolish because I love God’s Word? Am I foolish because I want to understand it better? Am I foolish because I want to wring every last drop of meaning out of it? I hope the answer to all these questions is “No.”
What about the charge of being a dilettante? This could be truer for me since I have not received any formal training as a minister of the Word. I don’t want to be a dilettante. Who would? Or who would ever admit to such a charge, even if true. Not I. Yet it may very well be true of me. I hope and pray that I not be like the men Paul warned Timothy about—“vain janglers” as the KJV describes them— those who have forgotten or never understood that, “the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.” Oh, let me not be one of the vain janglers, those “who have turned aside to fruitless discussion, wanting to be teachers of the Law, even though they do not understand either what they are saying or the matters about which they make confident assertions” (1 Tim. 1:5-7).
That unpleasant thought aside, why am I now undertaking this self-imposed task? Well, I’m not sure. I have struggled with a sense of calling for a very long time—long before I knew I was a Christian even. It was partly a sense of needing to know more and to experience more of the mystery of God I suppose. Christ has been in my life since I was about six years old, though I only came to realize this through the direct experience of His presence and His displeasure with my abundantly sinful life less than a decade ago. But I have always had an inner hunger or thirst that nothing could ever slake—until I experienced God’s gracious love and mercy in the person of Jesus Christ. And since coming to know Him, I’ve also come to want to know Him more deeply and completely. This I do imperfectly and always with less sincerity than I would like through prayer, worship and bible study. But how can a merely superficial understanding, gleaned from the experience of others, be enough? Perhaps it is enough, yet I still feel the need to go deeper.
Will I get very far? He knows; I don’t. I’ll try to give it my best shot though. I’ll keep you posted as to my progress. Perhaps those of my readers who are already well along this path—ministers, seminary students and the certifiably odd—could mentor me, or at least offer me some help from time to time. I’d appreciate it.
Bill Mounce, whose book Greek for the Rest of Us, is one of the resources I’ve begun to use, reminds his readers that, “it’s not a little Greek that proves dangerous. It’s a little bit of pride that proves dangerous.”
Lord, keep me from the sin of pride and the equally horrendous sin of self-righteousness that comes with just a little bit of knowledge. And I pray, Dear Lord, whatever I learn, turn it to your own glory alone.
Amen.
Oh, I can hear the reaction: “What—is he mad?”
Yes, I probably am mad, at least semi-mad anyway. What man approaching sixty would even consider doing something like this? I mean, most men my age take up golf or spend quality-time bouncing grandchildren on their knee (one at a time, presumably). I’ve never been like that. Besides, my son has yet to engender any offspring. When I was less than half the age I am now, I began to translate the Old Testament from Hebrew into English. Did I know Hebrew? No. Was I trained as a translator? No. Did I have any qualifications whatsoever to undertake such a task? No. Did I finish my undertaking? Regrettably, no.
I’ve been contemplating this for some time now but have always been intimidated by the enormity of the undertaking. I’ve been using various Greek aids, lexicons and the like for a long time but that can only take your understanding so far and it is easy to get things wrong or out of context that way. Some people would consider me to be foolish or worse, a dilettante. Well, perhaps I am a little foolish; but for what, exactly? Am I foolish because I love God’s Word? Am I foolish because I want to understand it better? Am I foolish because I want to wring every last drop of meaning out of it? I hope the answer to all these questions is “No.”
What about the charge of being a dilettante? This could be truer for me since I have not received any formal training as a minister of the Word. I don’t want to be a dilettante. Who would? Or who would ever admit to such a charge, even if true. Not I. Yet it may very well be true of me. I hope and pray that I not be like the men Paul warned Timothy about—“vain janglers” as the KJV describes them— those who have forgotten or never understood that, “the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.” Oh, let me not be one of the vain janglers, those “who have turned aside to fruitless discussion, wanting to be teachers of the Law, even though they do not understand either what they are saying or the matters about which they make confident assertions” (1 Tim. 1:5-7).
That unpleasant thought aside, why am I now undertaking this self-imposed task? Well, I’m not sure. I have struggled with a sense of calling for a very long time—long before I knew I was a Christian even. It was partly a sense of needing to know more and to experience more of the mystery of God I suppose. Christ has been in my life since I was about six years old, though I only came to realize this through the direct experience of His presence and His displeasure with my abundantly sinful life less than a decade ago. But I have always had an inner hunger or thirst that nothing could ever slake—until I experienced God’s gracious love and mercy in the person of Jesus Christ. And since coming to know Him, I’ve also come to want to know Him more deeply and completely. This I do imperfectly and always with less sincerity than I would like through prayer, worship and bible study. But how can a merely superficial understanding, gleaned from the experience of others, be enough? Perhaps it is enough, yet I still feel the need to go deeper.
Will I get very far? He knows; I don’t. I’ll try to give it my best shot though. I’ll keep you posted as to my progress. Perhaps those of my readers who are already well along this path—ministers, seminary students and the certifiably odd—could mentor me, or at least offer me some help from time to time. I’d appreciate it.
Bill Mounce, whose book Greek for the Rest of Us, is one of the resources I’ve begun to use, reminds his readers that, “it’s not a little Greek that proves dangerous. It’s a little bit of pride that proves dangerous.”
Lord, keep me from the sin of pride and the equally horrendous sin of self-righteousness that comes with just a little bit of knowledge. And I pray, Dear Lord, whatever I learn, turn it to your own glory alone.
Amen.
Tuesday 10 July 2007
Sharing Our Burdens
I am a duly ordained Stephen Minister. Stephen Ministry is about caring for those who are hurting and in need of emotional and spiritual help when life takes a wrong and perhaps unexpected turn. The ministry is named after Stephen, the first known Christian martyr and one of the first Deacons in the Church.
I was ordained to this ministry in a previous church than the one I now attend. The congregation was (and I guess still is) quite large, consisting of about six hundred members. Now, based on pure statistics alone, in a congregation of that size one would expect to find more than a few hurting and needy people at any given time: people going through marriage difficulties, people who have lost a job, or worse, a vocation; people who have lost a loved one or are facing death themselves.
The ministry was in full swing for the entire time I attended the church and yet not a single Stephen Minister was in fact ministering to the needs of anyone. This was not the fault of the ministry, or its leader, my good friend and brother Bob Barclay. In spite of encouragement from the pulpit, no one ever came forward to say, “Brother (or sister), I need to lean on you for a little while, just till I catch my breath.” We attended meetings, upgraded our training, prayed for one another and the congregation but still we seemed like an answer in search of a question. Was this a healthy congregation? Were its members strong and balanced all the time; immune from heartache, depression, grief or sadness? Of course not, no congregation is like that. So why didn’t people come to us and say, “Jamie or Bob or Margaret, I need some help.”
It seems to me that the whole notion we might not be emotionally, mentally or spiritually strong is loathsome to us. We’re ashamed to admit our need because this makes us seem weak. In our own eyes it diminishes our worth as Christians in comparison to those around us. Never mind that we’re called to bear one another’s burdens—and therefore, by implication, to share them with others (Gal. 6:2); never mind that we all have equal worth in the eyes of Him who made us as well as saved us; never mind that in the body of Christ, all the members have value and worth, even the weakest or most needy (1 Cor. 12:22, 23); never mind that, “if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart” (Ecc. 4:12). We somehow have the idea that because we as individuals have been given the Spirit of Comfort, Counsellor, and Paraclete in Christ’s very own Holy Spirit, somehow that same Spirit would not work just as well—or better—through the Body of Christ, which is His Church manifested in any local congregation or fellowship of other Christians. Perhaps we can attribute this attitude to the extreme individualism that is so characteristic of the age and which is so unchristian.
Speaking of His own impending crucifixion, Christ said, “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). The obvious key words in this verse are peace, tribulation, courage and overcome. But there is a key phrase here that most people overlook simply because of its starkness and simplicity. It is the phrase, “in Me.” This is what gives meaning to the rest of the verse. It is only in Christ that we can get the courage to face the tribulations that are inherent in the world and so find the lasting peace we all crave. No two words, taken together, have nearly the richness, depth and importance of meaning than do these two words, in Christ. They are the very heart and soul of the Gospel and the Bible itself. If we do not have a sense of what this phrase in Christ (or in Me, when Christ refers to Himself) means, we will never understand what it is to be a Christian and will never understand God’s revelation of Himself in the Scriptures.
This is not the place to unpack the freight of meaning behind these two little words. Suffice to say that when we are in Christ, we have His very own indwelling Spirit in us as well, so that “He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man” (Eph. 3:16). But too often forgotten or overlooked, the Spirit of Christ always works in and amongst His chosen people, which is the true Church; not the church as an institution but the Church as the organic, dynamic, vibrant, and vital body of Christ! It is in Christ’s Body, the Church, that the Holy Spirit carries on His greatest work as Paraclete—Helper. It is in the Body of Christ, the assembly of all true, born-again believers, that the Spirit does His greatest work of healing. It is through one another, as members of the Body of which Christ is the Head, that we gain access to the comforting, healing power of Christ’s Spirit. But I believe many Christians have never actually worked out the ramifications, implications and consequences of being members of Christ’s Body.
In Romans 12:5 Paul says, “so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” I wonder if you are hearing what he is saying? Even though we are many in the sense of being individually unique, with our own personalities, talents and gifts, in another sense we are in fact one. And not one in the manner that a chunk of peanut brittle is one or that two things joined together by glue is one. No, we are organically one and indivisible in the same way a physical body is one. And when a physical body loses one of its members—an eye, a hand, a foot, an ear—it is diminished as a whole. This reality is reflected in the tone of the Meditation # 17 of John Donne: “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind....”
In Romans 12:5 Paul says that we are members one of another. We belong to each other as members of Christ’s body in the same way a wife belongs to her husband and a husband to his wife. We don’t merely have the privilege of caring for one another’s needs; we have a God-given duty and responsibility to care and to be cared for! A Christian who does not allow himself to be cared for by a brother or sister is not just doing harm to that individual; he is doing harm to the body of Christ and therefore to Christ himself.
It is instructive to listen to Paul once again, at length:
A person who does not grasp the fact that the members of his or her congregation are not like members of his or her curling club, tennis club, golf club, book club or whatever, simply does not understand the collective and essentially covenantal nature of salvation. Although we are saved as individuals, we are not saved merely or only as individuals, but rather as members of a body. The terms “brother” or “sister”, as they are used in Christianity, are not mere euphemisms; they are accurate descriptions of the fact of the new, regenerated life we share in Christ.
For this reason it behooves us to be willing and courageous enough to trust—as an act of the will—our brother and sister with whatever problems we might be faced with. If nothing else, we can get encouragement and prayer for our blessing, knowing that when these things come from a brother or sister who has the indwelling Spirit, they come from Christ.
Soli Deo Gloria.
I was ordained to this ministry in a previous church than the one I now attend. The congregation was (and I guess still is) quite large, consisting of about six hundred members. Now, based on pure statistics alone, in a congregation of that size one would expect to find more than a few hurting and needy people at any given time: people going through marriage difficulties, people who have lost a job, or worse, a vocation; people who have lost a loved one or are facing death themselves.
The ministry was in full swing for the entire time I attended the church and yet not a single Stephen Minister was in fact ministering to the needs of anyone. This was not the fault of the ministry, or its leader, my good friend and brother Bob Barclay. In spite of encouragement from the pulpit, no one ever came forward to say, “Brother (or sister), I need to lean on you for a little while, just till I catch my breath.” We attended meetings, upgraded our training, prayed for one another and the congregation but still we seemed like an answer in search of a question. Was this a healthy congregation? Were its members strong and balanced all the time; immune from heartache, depression, grief or sadness? Of course not, no congregation is like that. So why didn’t people come to us and say, “Jamie or Bob or Margaret, I need some help.”
It seems to me that the whole notion we might not be emotionally, mentally or spiritually strong is loathsome to us. We’re ashamed to admit our need because this makes us seem weak. In our own eyes it diminishes our worth as Christians in comparison to those around us. Never mind that we’re called to bear one another’s burdens—and therefore, by implication, to share them with others (Gal. 6:2); never mind that we all have equal worth in the eyes of Him who made us as well as saved us; never mind that in the body of Christ, all the members have value and worth, even the weakest or most needy (1 Cor. 12:22, 23); never mind that, “if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart” (Ecc. 4:12). We somehow have the idea that because we as individuals have been given the Spirit of Comfort, Counsellor, and Paraclete in Christ’s very own Holy Spirit, somehow that same Spirit would not work just as well—or better—through the Body of Christ, which is His Church manifested in any local congregation or fellowship of other Christians. Perhaps we can attribute this attitude to the extreme individualism that is so characteristic of the age and which is so unchristian.
Speaking of His own impending crucifixion, Christ said, “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). The obvious key words in this verse are peace, tribulation, courage and overcome. But there is a key phrase here that most people overlook simply because of its starkness and simplicity. It is the phrase, “in Me.” This is what gives meaning to the rest of the verse. It is only in Christ that we can get the courage to face the tribulations that are inherent in the world and so find the lasting peace we all crave. No two words, taken together, have nearly the richness, depth and importance of meaning than do these two words, in Christ. They are the very heart and soul of the Gospel and the Bible itself. If we do not have a sense of what this phrase in Christ (or in Me, when Christ refers to Himself) means, we will never understand what it is to be a Christian and will never understand God’s revelation of Himself in the Scriptures.
This is not the place to unpack the freight of meaning behind these two little words. Suffice to say that when we are in Christ, we have His very own indwelling Spirit in us as well, so that “He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man” (Eph. 3:16). But too often forgotten or overlooked, the Spirit of Christ always works in and amongst His chosen people, which is the true Church; not the church as an institution but the Church as the organic, dynamic, vibrant, and vital body of Christ! It is in Christ’s Body, the Church, that the Holy Spirit carries on His greatest work as Paraclete—Helper. It is in the Body of Christ, the assembly of all true, born-again believers, that the Spirit does His greatest work of healing. It is through one another, as members of the Body of which Christ is the Head, that we gain access to the comforting, healing power of Christ’s Spirit. But I believe many Christians have never actually worked out the ramifications, implications and consequences of being members of Christ’s Body.
In Romans 12:5 Paul says, “so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” I wonder if you are hearing what he is saying? Even though we are many in the sense of being individually unique, with our own personalities, talents and gifts, in another sense we are in fact one. And not one in the manner that a chunk of peanut brittle is one or that two things joined together by glue is one. No, we are organically one and indivisible in the same way a physical body is one. And when a physical body loses one of its members—an eye, a hand, a foot, an ear—it is diminished as a whole. This reality is reflected in the tone of the Meditation # 17 of John Donne: “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind....”
In Romans 12:5 Paul says that we are members one of another. We belong to each other as members of Christ’s body in the same way a wife belongs to her husband and a husband to his wife. We don’t merely have the privilege of caring for one another’s needs; we have a God-given duty and responsibility to care and to be cared for! A Christian who does not allow himself to be cared for by a brother or sister is not just doing harm to that individual; he is doing harm to the body of Christ and therefore to Christ himself.
It is instructive to listen to Paul once again, at length:
For even as the body is one and yet has many members, and all the members of the body, though they are many, are one body, so also is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free, and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. For the body is not one member, but many. If the foot says, “Because I am not a hand, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “Because I am not an eye, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body…. And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; or again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” …But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it (1 Cor. 12:12-16, 24b-26).
A person who does not grasp the fact that the members of his or her congregation are not like members of his or her curling club, tennis club, golf club, book club or whatever, simply does not understand the collective and essentially covenantal nature of salvation. Although we are saved as individuals, we are not saved merely or only as individuals, but rather as members of a body. The terms “brother” or “sister”, as they are used in Christianity, are not mere euphemisms; they are accurate descriptions of the fact of the new, regenerated life we share in Christ.
For this reason it behooves us to be willing and courageous enough to trust—as an act of the will—our brother and sister with whatever problems we might be faced with. If nothing else, we can get encouragement and prayer for our blessing, knowing that when these things come from a brother or sister who has the indwelling Spirit, they come from Christ.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Tuesday 3 July 2007
A Word for Leaders in the Church
“nor yet as lording it over those allotted to your charge, but proving to be examples to the flock” (1 Peter 5:3).
I was thinking lately of leadership within the Church; this after reading the section on the Church in Robert L. Reymond’s “Systematic Theology.” It is something with which I have a kind of (how shall I say it) abiding interest; I’m not sure why really. Nevertheless, Reymond’s book started a train of thought that led me to 1 Peter 5:3, which in turn has led me to this post.
In the context of 1 Peter 5:3, the “examples” being referred to were the Elders within the apostolic church. The word translated as “examples” that the Spirit used by way of Peter is tupos from which we derive our own words type, typical, typology and the like. In the Greek it has the basic meaning of a mark left from a stroke or a blow; the resulting impression, and so forth. The picture that pops into my mind is that of coins being stamped with an image, over and over again, one stamp for each coin. So as the original goes, so goes the stamped replica; the coins being minted are “typical” of the original.
In most English translations, the word used for tupos is “example(s)” and I think it is a pretty good word. It is good because it brings out a slightly different meaning of the Greek; the idea of “imitation.” To imitate something is to be like something; it is to become like some type or example given. (You could say by way of illustration that the minted coins were imitations—not forgeries—of their original). And in this verse from Peter’s first letter, the idea is that Elders are examples that other Christians are to follow, to imitate or to become like and not merely to obey.
I think this is very important, and it is an idea that I believe is somewhat diminished in the Church today. In those congregations that still maintain the office of Elder, the Elder is usually, and unconsciously I think, seen by the congregation as an “overseer” (Greek episkopos) which word commonly shares more similarity with our word “manager” (Greek oikonomos—from which comes the English “economy”). And undeniably, one aspect of the office of Elder is that of ruler, overseer, or manager. But as Peter clearly points out, rulership, oversight or management is only a part of this biblical office. In his Christian walk he is also an example for others to follow. And this is not only where Elders in the Church often fail—yes, Elders do sometimes fail—it is where we fail as well. We don’t strive to be like our Elders; if anything we merely try to be obedient to them in the same way workers are obedient to their managers, thinking this enough.
As Christians we are all to become more and more like Christ through the working out of our sanctification (Phil. 2:12-13). But the office of Elder was given, in part, so that we could see in the one who had the charge over us, a type that we could emulate or be like, the underlying assumption being that those who were chosen as Elders, were so gifted by the Holy Spirit as to be worthy of emulation and imitation. They are to be our “examples” in such a way as to make our emulation or imitation of Christ more comprehensible, “Brethren, join in following my example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us” (Phil. 3:17). “Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In other words, the Elder is one who closely emulates the Master and so acts as an example of our own sanctification.
Over and over, Christ emphasizes the priestly or shepherding qualities of those who were to care for His Church. In this role these men were known as Pastor(s) (Greek Poimen) and it is this aspect of the office of Elder that I believe is undervalued in the Church today. The shepherd was the one who cared for the flock under his watch. The shepherd was less a manager of the flock than he was its leader, guardian and protector (John 10:10-15).
This train of thought—if correct (and I’ll be the first to admit it may not be)—leads to the conclusion that to be an Elder is to be like Christ but also to be seen as being like Christ. The Elder is an example. But more than this, the Elder is an example whether he likes it or not and he will be either a good example, worthy to be emulated and imitated as a type, or he will be a poor example, not worthy to be emulated. But it would seem clear from Christ’s references that He intended the leaders of His Church to be good examples rather than bad. So what kind of an example did Christ have in mind? How were the leaders of His Church to be exemplary?
Well for one—and perhaps most importantly, at least for me,—they were to be servants of the flock. Even in the verse we are considering, Peter makes it clear that Elders were not to see their duties first as overseers or managers, especially of the type that “lorded it over others” by being a kind of boss. Instead, they were to see themselves as examples—they were to lead by showing others the way of Christ—and this through servanthood, even as Christ came not to be served but to serve. Consider this: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. It is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:25-28, italics added). And from John’s gospel we have a wonderful picture of what Christ actually meant by the idea of what I term servant-love: “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come forth from God and was going back to God, got up from supper, and laid aside His garments; and taking a towel, He girded Himself. Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded….So when He had washed their feet, and taken His garments and reclined at the table again, He said to them, ‘Do you know what I have done to you? You call Me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, [have] washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you. Truly, truly, I say to you, a slave is not greater than his master, nor is one who is sent greater than the one who sent him. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them’” (John 13:3-5, 12-17, italics added).
The servanthood we see demonstrated by Christ and which He exhorted His apostles (and hence all the leadership within the greater Church) to follow is one of lowliness and humility (Luke 14:7-14). It is one where the welfare of others and the progress of the gospel are demonstrated through gentleness, patience, compassion, truth and most of all, love. It is not a holier-than-thou walk; it is a walk based on recognition of one’s abject spiritual poverty and of loving-kindness to those of your charge. The light that Elders should let shine must not be a Pharisaical light but a Christ-like light; a light that demonstrates love for both the commandments of the Saviour and not just one or the other.
So after all is said and done, what application is there to be found here? May I offer the following? Elders (and Pastors and all those with a ministry in the Church) examine yourselves to see if you be true bond servants of the Lord, ready to do His bidding in and out of season, ready to protect and defend the gospel, ready to demonstrate—through action—your servant-love for others. In terms of being an example for others in your care, if your underlying attitude is not the equivalent of washing the feet of another, then I believe you may need to re-examine what you are doing and why you are doing it, even if this leads you to relinquish your office altogether. Remember this: as the original goes, so goes the stamped replica, therefore as the Elder goes, so goes the congregation. In this regard, let us remember the words of the Lord’s brother and the leader of the Jerusalem church before his martyrdom: “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur a stricter judgment” (James 3:1). This is a fearful thought and a sobering warning for us all.
Soli Deo Gloria.
I was thinking lately of leadership within the Church; this after reading the section on the Church in Robert L. Reymond’s “Systematic Theology.” It is something with which I have a kind of (how shall I say it) abiding interest; I’m not sure why really. Nevertheless, Reymond’s book started a train of thought that led me to 1 Peter 5:3, which in turn has led me to this post.
In the context of 1 Peter 5:3, the “examples” being referred to were the Elders within the apostolic church. The word translated as “examples” that the Spirit used by way of Peter is tupos from which we derive our own words type, typical, typology and the like. In the Greek it has the basic meaning of a mark left from a stroke or a blow; the resulting impression, and so forth. The picture that pops into my mind is that of coins being stamped with an image, over and over again, one stamp for each coin. So as the original goes, so goes the stamped replica; the coins being minted are “typical” of the original.
In most English translations, the word used for tupos is “example(s)” and I think it is a pretty good word. It is good because it brings out a slightly different meaning of the Greek; the idea of “imitation.” To imitate something is to be like something; it is to become like some type or example given. (You could say by way of illustration that the minted coins were imitations—not forgeries—of their original). And in this verse from Peter’s first letter, the idea is that Elders are examples that other Christians are to follow, to imitate or to become like and not merely to obey.
I think this is very important, and it is an idea that I believe is somewhat diminished in the Church today. In those congregations that still maintain the office of Elder, the Elder is usually, and unconsciously I think, seen by the congregation as an “overseer” (Greek episkopos) which word commonly shares more similarity with our word “manager” (Greek oikonomos—from which comes the English “economy”). And undeniably, one aspect of the office of Elder is that of ruler, overseer, or manager. But as Peter clearly points out, rulership, oversight or management is only a part of this biblical office. In his Christian walk he is also an example for others to follow. And this is not only where Elders in the Church often fail—yes, Elders do sometimes fail—it is where we fail as well. We don’t strive to be like our Elders; if anything we merely try to be obedient to them in the same way workers are obedient to their managers, thinking this enough.
As Christians we are all to become more and more like Christ through the working out of our sanctification (Phil. 2:12-13). But the office of Elder was given, in part, so that we could see in the one who had the charge over us, a type that we could emulate or be like, the underlying assumption being that those who were chosen as Elders, were so gifted by the Holy Spirit as to be worthy of emulation and imitation. They are to be our “examples” in such a way as to make our emulation or imitation of Christ more comprehensible, “Brethren, join in following my example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us” (Phil. 3:17). “Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In other words, the Elder is one who closely emulates the Master and so acts as an example of our own sanctification.
Over and over, Christ emphasizes the priestly or shepherding qualities of those who were to care for His Church. In this role these men were known as Pastor(s) (Greek Poimen) and it is this aspect of the office of Elder that I believe is undervalued in the Church today. The shepherd was the one who cared for the flock under his watch. The shepherd was less a manager of the flock than he was its leader, guardian and protector (John 10:10-15).
This train of thought—if correct (and I’ll be the first to admit it may not be)—leads to the conclusion that to be an Elder is to be like Christ but also to be seen as being like Christ. The Elder is an example. But more than this, the Elder is an example whether he likes it or not and he will be either a good example, worthy to be emulated and imitated as a type, or he will be a poor example, not worthy to be emulated. But it would seem clear from Christ’s references that He intended the leaders of His Church to be good examples rather than bad. So what kind of an example did Christ have in mind? How were the leaders of His Church to be exemplary?
Well for one—and perhaps most importantly, at least for me,—they were to be servants of the flock. Even in the verse we are considering, Peter makes it clear that Elders were not to see their duties first as overseers or managers, especially of the type that “lorded it over others” by being a kind of boss. Instead, they were to see themselves as examples—they were to lead by showing others the way of Christ—and this through servanthood, even as Christ came not to be served but to serve. Consider this: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. It is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:25-28, italics added). And from John’s gospel we have a wonderful picture of what Christ actually meant by the idea of what I term servant-love: “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come forth from God and was going back to God, got up from supper, and laid aside His garments; and taking a towel, He girded Himself. Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded….So when He had washed their feet, and taken His garments and reclined at the table again, He said to them, ‘Do you know what I have done to you? You call Me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, [have] washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you. Truly, truly, I say to you, a slave is not greater than his master, nor is one who is sent greater than the one who sent him. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them’” (John 13:3-5, 12-17, italics added).
The servanthood we see demonstrated by Christ and which He exhorted His apostles (and hence all the leadership within the greater Church) to follow is one of lowliness and humility (Luke 14:7-14). It is one where the welfare of others and the progress of the gospel are demonstrated through gentleness, patience, compassion, truth and most of all, love. It is not a holier-than-thou walk; it is a walk based on recognition of one’s abject spiritual poverty and of loving-kindness to those of your charge. The light that Elders should let shine must not be a Pharisaical light but a Christ-like light; a light that demonstrates love for both the commandments of the Saviour and not just one or the other.
So after all is said and done, what application is there to be found here? May I offer the following? Elders (and Pastors and all those with a ministry in the Church) examine yourselves to see if you be true bond servants of the Lord, ready to do His bidding in and out of season, ready to protect and defend the gospel, ready to demonstrate—through action—your servant-love for others. In terms of being an example for others in your care, if your underlying attitude is not the equivalent of washing the feet of another, then I believe you may need to re-examine what you are doing and why you are doing it, even if this leads you to relinquish your office altogether. Remember this: as the original goes, so goes the stamped replica, therefore as the Elder goes, so goes the congregation. In this regard, let us remember the words of the Lord’s brother and the leader of the Jerusalem church before his martyrdom: “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur a stricter judgment” (James 3:1). This is a fearful thought and a sobering warning for us all.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
