Running with Endurance

Another Paraclete

2009-09-02T21:41:00.015-04:00

In John 14:16, Jesus said, "I will ask my Father, and He will give you another counselor (paraclete), and He will be with you forever." In the course of this simple sentence, Jesus affirms 1) the personhood of the Holy Spirit [He is the counselor], 2) His equality with the Son, who is Himself co-equal to the Father [He is "another" counselor, like but distinct from Jesus, who is also our counselor sent from the Father], and 3) His permanent indwelling in believers [He will be with them and in them forever, cf. v.17].

The Spirit's role is to convict the world regarding sin and righteousness and judgment (16:7-11), through the apostolic proclamation of the truth (16:12-15; 17:20; 2Th.2:13-14; Eph.1:13; cf. Jas.1:18; 1Pe.1:23-25). In so doing, the Spirit regenerates the elect (Jn.3:3-8; 1Pe.1:1-2; Titus 3:5), through repentance and saving faith (1Th.1:4-5; Ac.11:15-18; 15:7-9; 16:14; etc.). This inexorably results in a permanent, Spirit-sealed union with Christ, in which we are justified, continually transformed, and ultimately conformed in glory to the image of God in Christ (Ro.8; Eph.1). In short, the complete redemption accomplished by Jesus once and for all on behalf of His Church is applied in full by the Spirit to the Church, in real space and real time - instantaneously, progressively, and perfectly. In so proving its efficacy, power and perfection in the flesh-and-blood lives of God's people, the Spirit displays and honors the glorious work of the Son for all to see.

In bringing salvation to the elect, from beginning (new birth) to end (resurrection-glory), the Holy Spirit is 'energized' entirely by the omnipotent life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Or rather, it is this energy - the energy of Christ who lives in us - which the Spirit communicates in full to the elect through faith. Thus He is "the Spirit of Christ." Because the Spirit is the agent of Christ, our paraclete (1Jn.2:1), He acts also as a paraclete, effectually applying Christ's redemptive work and power in our lives, establishing a fully realized reconciliation, such that we receive God's love into our hearts, and God graciously receives our fears, anxieties and longings through the Spirit's inarticulate groans on our behalf, too deep for words, and effective intercession on the basis of Jesus' shed blood.

We have a strong advocate in our battle with sin; a friend to sinners. We have a powerful agent of Christ's sovereign grace working within us, guaranteeing the completion of the good work He's already begun!

Praise God for both of our Advocates!

Christ Crucified and Pornography

2009-08-21T14:13:00.014-04:00

The cross of Christ is powerful. According to Hebrews 10:14, "by a single offering He has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified."

Through the cross, we have been crucified to the world, and the world to us (Gal.6:14)! In Christ we have died to the Law through the Law (Gal.2:19), so that we are no longer under the Law (Gal.3:23-4:5). Our sin has been punished, once and for all, such that our guilt has been removed (Eph.1:7; cf. Col.2:14; Heb.10:19-23). More than that, sin's power over us has been broken (Rom.6)! Through the cross of Christ, we have died to sin; and now, through the resurrection life of Jesus, are made alive to God. And so Paul writes in Galatians, "those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires."

Really? How does the gospel address our anger, our greed, our envy, our pride, our lust? Regarding lust, check out these comments made by D.A. Carson, Tim Keller and John Piper on how the gospel addresses the struggle with pornography:

How Does the Gospel Conquer the Sin of Pornography? Pt I

This next video overlaps about 1.5 minutes with the previous video, but continues the discussion...

How Does the Gospel Conquer the Sin of Pornography? Pt II

Thoughts???

Slaughterhouse Religion?

2009-08-05T20:33:00.042-04:00

In 1Corinthians 15:1-5, Paul presents what he considers to be matters of "first importance" in regard to the gospel he preached. Namely, "that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas [Peter], then to the twelve." But what does "Christ died for our sins" mean?

In "Christian Theology: An Introduction," Alister McGrath writes:

The New Testament, drawing on Old Testament imagery and expectations, presents Christ's death upon the cross as a sacrifice. This approach, which is especially associated with the Letter to the Hebrews, presents Christ's sacrificial offering as an effective and perfect sacrifice, which was to accomplish that which the sacrifices of the Old Testament were only able to intimate, rather than achieve. In particular, Paul's use of the Greek term hilasterion (Ro.3:25) points to a sacrificial interpretation of Christ's death. The idea is developed subsequently within the Christian tradition.

McGrath goes on to quote from Augustine and Athanasius. In fact, the crucifixion of Christ understood as an atoning sacrifice for our sins has always been the unquestioned doctrine and proud boast of orthodox Christianity. It has always been vital and precious to the Christian's faith and assurance. Charles Wesley's famous words are wonderfully representative: Arise my soul, arise! Shake off your guilty fears. The bleeding sacrifice on my behalf appears! Before the throne my surety stands, my name is written on his hands!

And this glorious understanding of the cross went relatively unchallenged in the history of Christendom until roughly around the 18th century, in the wake of the so-called "Enlightenment." To quote McGrath again,

Since the Enlightment, however, there has been a subtle shift in the meaning of the term. A metaphorical extension of meaning has come to be given over the original. Whereas the term originally referred to the ritual offering of slaughtered animals as a specifically religious action, it increasingly came to mean heroic or costly action on the part of individuals, especially giving up of one's life, with no trasncendent reference or expectation.

The term as applied to Jesus' cross, in other words, became a slippery one. But again we should note such ambiguity was not present in the New Testament usage. For Paul, Jesus' death was undoubtedly understood in terms of a "sin offering" (e.g., Ro.8:3; 2Co.5:21; Eph.5:2; cf. 1Co.5:7), in accordance to the sacrificial cultus of the Jewish Scriptures. At essence, it was atonement for sin through bloodshed. G.E. Ladd, in "A Theology of the New Testament," writes,

The sacrificial aspect of Christ's death is seen in the frequent references to his blood. God has made Christ to be the propitiation by his blood (Ro.3:25); we are justifed by his blood (Eph.1:7); we are made near to God by the blood of Christ (Eph.2:13); we have peace through the blood of his cross (Col.1:20).

A moment's reflection suggests that such references are not primarily concerned with the physical blood of Jesus, for, as a matter of fact, Jesus shed very little of his material blood [nevermind Mel Gibson's portrayal]. The idea of shed blood refers to the slaughter of the sacrificial lamb, whose throat was cut and whose blood gushed forth. Nothing like this happened to Jesus. The blood and water (Jn.19:34) that came from Jesus' side did so after he had expired. In the New Testament [and Old, see L. Morris, "The Atonement," 1983, p.52], blood means life violently taken away, life offered in sacrifice.

Along thise lines, the author of Hebrews writes unambiguously, "without the shedding of blood, there is no forgivness of sins," (He.9:22).

But not only did Christ's death framed as "sacrifice" become somewhat ambiguous, but its historic understanding became more and more culturally distatesful. Early 20th century liberal theologian and pastor Harry Emerson Fosdick famously called the doctrine of blood atonement "a slaughterhouse religion," a sort of "precivilized barbarity."

Let's be honest, bloody sacrifices are far removed from the antiseptic world of the modern West (and 21st century suburban America in particular). Isn't the demand for "blood" and "propitiation" a violent and crude concept? It smacks of primitive superstition and savagery. It strikes us as 'beneath' any thoughtful and reflective conception of God.

Presenting the historic 'theory' of the atonement, British "emergent" theologian and author, Alan Jones, writes: "Jesus' sacrifice was to appease an angry God. Penal substitution was the name of this vile doctrine." On the other side of the pond, Brian McLaren has said, in mocking the traditional understanding of atonement and divine justice in justification,

God is incapable of forgiving. God can’t forgive unless He punishes somebody in place of the person He was going to forgive. God doesn’t say things to you—Forgive your wife, and then go kick the dog to vent your anger. God asks you to actually forgive…. And there’s a certain sense that, a common understanding of the atonement presents a God who is incapable of forgiving. Unless He kicks somebody else."

Similarly, there have been numerous theologians in recent decades, particularly from the "peace church" (i.e., anabaptistic) traditions, arguing for a "nonviolent" interpretation of the cross. The notion of "divine violence" in demanding (or worse, inflicting) a blood sacrifice is condemned as destructive both morally and theologically, as ultimately undermining the whole project of God's peaceful kingdom. In Jesus, God suffers violence, it is argued, but He does not inflict it!

As many within this tradition have stated - in opposition to the historical understanding of the cross as a scandalous display of not only God's mercy but justice as well - violence only begets violence. Indeed! In particular, human violence begets divine violence (cf. Rev.11:18). But the process is not unending. When God acts, it is with finality. Human, sinful violence is answered once and for all by divine, retributive violence. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for life - "the soul that sins shall surely die," (Ez.18:20; Ro.6:23; cf. Ge.2:17). Ghandi said, "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." God's justice leaves the whole world condemned to die. And of course, this is precisely the biblical picture of our desperate and tragic situation: "in Adam, all die," (1Co.15:22a), for "sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned," (Ro.5:12). But the hope offered in the gospel is life beyond the grave: "in Christ, all will be made alive," (1Co.15:22b; cf. Jn.11:25).

The critical presupposition, then, behind the biblical doctrine of atonement is the lethal (physically and spiritually speaking, cf. Rev.20:12-14) retribution demanded by divine justice, or what Scripture often refers to as God's wrath. Where this is rejected, the orthodox doctrine of the cross of Christ cannot be sustained. Without it, the severity revealed at Golgotha of both God's indignation and love, it would seem, are hopelessly obscured.

The God-Man

2009-07-27T15:54:00.009-04:00

The church, from the apostles themselves (e.g., Rom.1:2-4; 9:5; Heb.1:2-12; 2:14-18), to the apostolic fathers (e.g., 1Clem.32:2; 36; Ignatius, Eph.7:2), and on through the Nicene and Post-Nicene age, has always taught the human-divine duality of Christ’s person. This basic and primitive christology was given precise definition in the Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon in AD 451, and has since been recognized by the church as having established the clear boundaries of christological orthodoxy.

During the controversies of the 4th and 5th century, a number of important works were written. One of these was the so-called "Tome of Leo," written to Flavian, the Bishop of Constantinople in 449 AD. It is worth taking the time to read it, if you can grab an hour one night. The Tome was adopted by the Council of Chalcedon as giving orthodox expression to the duality of Christ, and as a correction to the teachings of Eutyches in particular.

To this author was attributed the famous dictim: "What he was (Deity), he remained; what he was not (humanity), he assumed." A short and sweet summary of the mystery of the incarnation. God the Son took on human nature, without compromising either His divine nature or the humanity He assumed through His miraculous conception in Mary's womb. That is what happened, according to Scripture. How it happened is a mystery to us.

Another important and profound document written during an earlier, critical juncture in the history of the church regarding Christ's Person is Athanasius’ “On the Incarnation." A true Christian classic!

In light of this duality of natures, we often struggle with overemphasizing one aspect over and against the other. That is, we tend to lean either toward Arianism (Jesus, though great, is not fully God) or docetism (Jesus, though he appeared to be, was not really a man).

In what ways have we tended toward Arianism in recent history?

In what ways have we tended toward docetism?

Our Conception of God

2009-07-16T22:44:00.014-04:00

One of the most important factors for our spirituality is our conception of who God is. A.W. Tozer wrote:

What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us… Worship is pure or base as the worshiper entertains high or low thoughts of God. For this reason the gravest question before the Church is always God Himself, and the most portentous fact about any man is not what he at a given time may say or do, but what he in his deep heart conceives God to be like.

And the traditional theistic and Christian view of God is that He is the all-glorious, infinite and eternal being - absolute and personal. He is, to use Anselm's definition, "something that which nothing greater can be conceived." As Francis Chan writes in his book, Crazy Love, God is a God whose glory and perfections cannot be exaggerated. Our problem isn't that we overestimate God, in His holiness and majesty (or His humility), but that we underestimate Him. We underestimate His perfections, His self-sufficiency, His mercy, and His justice.

To delimit Him then according to our finite understanding is dangerous and even potentially disasterous. For this reason God taught Israel that He is not to be conceived or represented by any image whatsoever (Dt.5:8-12; 4:12), not even by men, in whom is embodied the imago Dei! This is not because the image of God in man is somehow deceptive in and of itself, but because of our fallen nature, such that that image is fundamentally corrupted. We must always be cautious then with the conclusions we draw from the human experience alone. That is, they must always be read in submission to the biblical revelation of God to Israel and in Christ particularly. This is the danger, I would suggest, of some modern conceptions of God which picture Him in heaven as weeping over human tragedy, and participating in the pain of the world as a victim of evil. Jesus certainly did so participate, weeping and suffering at hands of wicked men, in His human nature; but the divine nature is not to be confused with His humanity.

The incarnation demonstrates that the image of God in man is a faithful and full representation of God, though in another sense limited (Jn.1:18). His sinlessness guarantees a faithful representation, in the pristine state of the imago Dei. It is limited in accordance to our finitude and ability to comprehend. God condescends, in other words, to communicate to us in ways we can grasp. He even gives us the Spirit in rebirth, by which we are enlightened to properly understand His revelation.

And so Jesus revealed God to us as a man, in ways that we can fully comprehend as men. His human nature and humiliation, in a sense then, both veiled and revealed the divine nature.

Jesus revealed God to us not merely through His human nature, abstractly conceived, but specifically with His words and deeds as an actual, particular man in history. It is noteworthy that the Gospel accounts refrain from communicating Jesus' physical appearances. It is His words and actions which reveal God to us primarily - human actions, and words spoken with the human tongue, to be sure. But they are also divine actions and divine words, unique to Jesus by virtue of the union of the human and divine natures in His incarnate existence. Though the apostles experienced Christ "in the flesh," the representation of God in Christ is now experienced primarily through the Word and Spirit. Hence J.I. Packer's warning about representing Jesus' physical appearances with pictures and paintings. We tend to make Jesus into our image (white, black, asian, etc.). This is potentially dangerous as well. God, even in Christ, cannot be domesticated to our concepts and cultural assumptions. As C.S. Lewis wrote, He is not a tame lion. Or, as Martin Luther famously wrote, "let God be God." We might write, let Christ be Christ - the Christ of Scripture, and not of our wandering imaginations.

So what is critical is that we derive our understanding of God from the revelation given us, and most especially, the revelation contained in the writings of Scripture. It may not reveal everything that can be known about God, but it reveals faithfully everything we need to know, in order to truly know Him (Dt.29:29). We can be confident that there are no pulled punches in His revelation, or skeletons in His closet, awaiting later exposure. We know enough to know that He is all worthy, and enough to be responsible to respond appropriately. And that response is, in a word, worship.

The Doctrine of Inerrancy

2009-07-01T08:30:00.009-04:00

The doctrine of biblical inerrancy has been especially controversial during the course of the last century, and continues to be so today. Inerrancy simply means that the Scriptures are without error in all that they affirm. (This applies specifically to the original manuscripts; unfortunatley, inspiration of "the writings" is no guarantee against corruption in textual transmission or fidelity of translation.) This has been the view of the church throughout history and for those who read the carefully nuanced views of the Princetonians like Warfield, Hodge, and Alexander, and the Chicago Statement will find that these comport with the historical position of the church. Prior to the higher criticism of the 18th century, the inerrancy (note: I understand this term as essentially identical to "infallibility") of Scripture was naturally assumed by the orthodox and heretic alike throughout Christendom. It is the obvious corollary to the full or "plenary" inspiration of Scripture taught in the Bible (2Tim.3:16), and touches most critically upon the authority of revelation. And so Augustine argued, for example, that the authority of the Scriptures would be unsettled if there was an error or contradiction in them.

There are two important mistakes people make with regard to inerrancy (usually by its critics). The first common mistake is conflating accuracy with precision. Scripture is accurate, but not necessarily precise in all of its reportings. For example, we often bring the expectations of modern historiography to the ancient text, and then, when Scripture fails to thus "measure up," we're confused. But the historical narratives of Scripture are neither scientifically precise nor are they exhaustive in reporting the details of the events they describe. The second mistake is the failure to understand the phenomological aspect of all literature, even biblical. Namely, Scripture typically narrates events within the conceptual and experiential framework of the authors and audience of the original text. Thus, for example, when Scripture says "the sun set," we should not think that it is advancing a geocentric view of the universe (anymore so than the local paper, when it tells us the times for "sunrise" and "sunset" each day). In all of this we must also keep in mind the intrepretive or hermeneutical principle of sensus literalis - that the text of Scripture should be read in terms of its literature or genre. We should read history as history, poetry as poetry, parable as parable, etc., etc.

The practical signficance of inerrancy can be seen in two important areas. First, because all Scripture is inspired, and therefore entirely trustworthy and true, all of Scripture is useful for training, teaching, correcting, and rebuking (2Tim.3:16-17). This is immensely important for establishing both the legitimacy and method of pastoral ministry, which Paul so clearly lays out for us in the Pastoral Epistles. Secondly, as Augustine once argued, when we encounter a problem in the text, inerrancy means that we have three options: 1) we have misunderstood the text, 2) there is a corruption in the translation or transmission of the manuscripts in hand in need of correction, 3) I am in need of correction.

There have been a number of times when the third scenario is in fact the case in my life. I didn't like the obvious meaning and application of a passage in Scripture, and so I either ignored it, or, perhaps even worse, gave a highly sophisticated and sophistic 'interpretation,' in order to avoid the provocative and disturbing implications of its prima facie and - let's be honest - clear meaning.

If you get a moment, check out this short article by John Frame at Reformed Theological Seminary regarding inerrancy.

As always, give us your thoughts!

The Doctrine of Divine Revelation

2009-06-25T22:01:00.008-04:00

The invisible, unapproachable, incomprehensible God has revealed himself to us in ways that are visible, approachable and comprehensible. He has done this in two distinct and different 'formats': 1) through natural or general revelation (Psalm 19:1-4a), and 2) through special revelation (Psalm 19:4b-11). They are similar in that they both reveal the same God - the same eternal power and divine nature, and the same righteous decrees (cf. Ro.1:20, 32; 2:14-15). They are both authoritative, entailing the moral obligation to believe and act accordingly, though those entrusted with special revelation will be judged more strictly (Ro.2:11-12). They are both clear and sufficient for their intended purpose. General revelation gives us enough true knowledge about God to be held morally accountable for all of our actions and beliefs. No one can say on the last day, "but I didn't know" (see Rom.1:18, 19-21, 25, 28, 32).

Special revelation, however, is sufficient to lead us beyond condemnation (for merely "knowing better than we do") to salvation. As Paul told Timothy, "the Scriptures are able to make you wise unto salvation." For this reason, they are necessary for salvation (e.g., Rom.10:14-15). In them, the mystery of God in Christ is revealed, and through them, the power of salvation is effectively communicated by the Spirit, imparting spiriual life to the dead (Ro.1:16; 1Pe.1:23-25; Jas.1:18)! Beyond that, by these inspired writings we grow up into our salvation (1Pe.2:2; Jas.1:21), as we are thoroughly equipped for every good work (2Tim.3:16-17).

In fact, I would suggest that this is the primary significance of biblical inspiration - its practical impact for the daily Christian life. Because the sacred text is inspired by God, it is useful in all of its instructions and all of its aspects to train us for godliness.

A few questions:

How would you explain that those who grow up in say, an animistic culture, should "know better"? Should they?

What is the relationship between special and natural revelation?

How might special revelation impact our understanding of natural? Can you think of any examples?

How might natural revelation impact our understanding of special revelation? Examples?

Systematic Theology?

2009-06-25T17:39:00.003-04:00

Why study systematic theology?

A former classmate of mine, Ra McLaughlin, asks this question, and offers the following (excellent) answer:

Any interpretation of the Bible, any understanding of it at all, is theology. We can't even approach the Bible to read it without carrying with us certain theological assumptions (at the very least, we are assuming that the Bible says something, or that reading the Bible is somehow worth while). If we adopt John Frame's approach (as I do), theology also includes application. In no event is theology/application ever irrelevant, and in no event can we understand the Bible without it.

Further, the biblical authors themselves possessed a certain theological understanding, and they assumed that their audiences likewise possessed certain theological understandings. Apart from studying and learning these theologies we cannot know the contexts or the meanings of their teachings.

While it is possible to have a skewed approach to theology such that one becomes more interested in philosophical debates than in understanding and applying Scripture, it is not possible to have any responsible approach to Scripture without at the same time doing and assuming theology. Interpretation, application and theology are inseparable, symbiotic disciplines.

Tim Keller on the Gospel and Its Implications

2008-05-10T22:25:00.005-04:00

Check out Tim Keller's talk on this page. He addresses one of the crucial questions we're asking: are we passive or active in our salvation? In what sense are we passive, and how does that relate to our call to action?

Give us your thoughts...

Mission and Comfort...Or Why Its Hard to Follow Jesus in America

2008-05-07T10:22:00.007-04:00

Our emphasis on spiritual formation (i.e., maturity) is basic to our vision. If we envision the whole church engaging the whole city with the whole gospel (embodied and expressed), then we desperately need Spirit-filled, Word-saturated, God-centered ministers - the full complement of the body of Christ, fully devoted to the work of God's mission (Eph.4:11-16).

All of the recent talk among church leaders of 'missional churches,' 'missional living,' 'missional spirituality,' etc., etc., ad nauseum, at its best and brightest, it seems to me, is simply good ole fashioned, evangelical Christianity, awakening from the semi-delusional torpor of the 20th century that "mission" is something that happens "over there" (and is done by trained professionals and/or other fanatics).

A significant part of this is the rude awakening of recent cultural trends; we Christians in America are coming to see more and more that "we aren't in Kansas anymore." With churches dropping like flies, according to the most recent statistics, and an undeniably escalating ignorance and downright hostility toward the Christian tradition in North American culture, we're now looking across our streets, rather than across the ocean, at a formidable mission field. Is it ripe for harvest? That's hard to tell...

What is good in all of this is the recollection of our purpose as the church. We exist not simply as a gathering center for a largely Christianized population. We must see ourselves more and more as mission agencies - outposts of God's kingdom on the edge of hell (as C.H. Spurgeon and other evangelical preachers and evangelists so clearly saw and taught us over a century ago). Each generation is only one step away from total apostasy (Jdg.2:10). And it seems we just might be crossing that threshold now. Are we simply coasting on a bygone, enculturated Christianity, which is quickly crumbling away all around us? Is the spiritual death of Europe our doom as well?

Whatever lingo we use, it is clear that the church must remember its identity and purpose. We are the people of God - holy, set apart - a royal priesthood, called to proclaim his praises in the world. But, man, it's hard. The American experiment has just been so stinking successful - the dream has more or less come true for the vast majority of us. Life in America is comfortable, safe, and functionally independent (i.e., self-sufficient, self-perpetuating, self-directing). In popular parlance, "we're good, thanks." We have to a great extent realized the postmillennial visions of our colonial fathers, and established a heavenly kingdom on earth. It has become a sort of secularized paradise, in which cultivating a truly spiritual life is increasingly difficult (cf. Craig Gay, The Way of the (Modern) World). (The irony of all this is that I complain as I sit in an air-conditioned Starbucks, sipping expensive coffe, on a new laptop computer in a comfortable chair.) Of course, we know that it can't last forever. Yet, we are constantly being lulled into thinking that it will (e.g., "don't worry, gas prices will even out," "the stockmarket will eventually recover, and your Roth-IRA will be fine," etc.). This is the essential apostasy of the world (2Pe.3:3-17): everything will go on as it always has...forever and ever, world without end.

In the midst of such ease, and the seeming normativity of middle-class comfort and convenience, how do we remain realistically connected to the vital, pressing mission God has given us as his people? How can we stay awake (cf. Eph.5:6-17)?

The Apostolic Pattern and the Spiritual Discipline of Prayer

2008-04-29T19:46:00.011-04:00

As one studies the NT, a consistent and comperehensive pattern of "sound doctrine" emerges (e.g., 1Ti.1:10b-11; 2Ti.4:3; Titus 2:1), entailing both "sound words" (e.g., 2Ti.1:13-14; 2:2; Titus 1:9; Ro.6:17) and "sound practices" (see 1Ti.4:6-12; cf. 1Co.4:16-17; 10:31-11:1; Phil.3:17), constantly commended to the "household of faith" for our observance. This pattern (tupos) stands on the pages of scripture as the embodiment of the apostolic traditions (e.g., 2Th.2:15; 3:6-9; 1Co.11:2) - the body and rule of our faith - as passed on to the churches (Jude 3; e.g., 1Co.11:23; 15:3ff.), and rooted in the pattern of life and ministry of Jesus Christ himself (e.g., 1Ti.6:3; 1Co.11:1; cf. 4:16; 2Co.4:7-18; 1Pe.2:21; etc.).

What are some of the practices, in particular, that the apostles of Jesus Christ commend to us? One clear and consistent practice is prayer. It is easy for us to leave this practice indefinite, haphazard, and untethered from daily life. But Christ and his apostles were quite specific in their teachings and example.

There is established for us a normative pattern of both the content and habit of our prayer life. First, the Lord himself passed on to us a model of how to pray (Lk.11:2-4; Mt.6:9-13). And the apostles also teach us from the example of their prayers in many of the epistles (e.g., Eph.1:15-23; Col.1:9-14; Phil.1:3-9). Secondly, we also see in the NT, both modeled for us and commanded of us, a regular (daily), habitual life of prayer (e.g., Lk.5:16; 6:12; 9:18, 28; 18:1ff.; Ro.1:10; Eph.1:16; 6:18-19; Col.1:9; 4:12; 1Th.5:17; 2Th.1:2, 11; 3:1; 1Ti.2:1; 2Ti.1:3).

We must face the question, then: does this pattern characterize our prayer life? If not, do we have any confidence that the results of the apostolic ministry in the early church will be approximated in our lives? Apart from the very 'means of grace' employed regularly by the early church, do we expect to see the same effects of grace in our churches?

If our prayer life does not match up to the 'apostolic pattern', then why? What, in your mind, are some of the hindrances, challenges, and difficulties associated with a habitual, biblical life of prayer? And how can we overcomes these barriers?

Philippians 2:12b-13

2008-04-13T11:57:00.005-04:00

Related to our previous post, how do you understand Paul's statement in Philippians 2:12b-13:

12b ...continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.

12b μετὰ φόβου καὶ τρόμου τὴν ἑαυτῶν σωτηρίαν κατεργάζεσθε 13 θεὸς γάρ ἐστιν ὁ ἐνεργῶν ἐν ὑμῖν καὶ τὸ θέλειν καὶ τὸ ἐνεργεῖν ὑπὲρ τῆς εὐδοκίας (http://www.greekbiblestudy.org/gnt/main.do)

How does our obligation to "work out" our salvation correspond to the reality of God's sovereignty, at work within us? And how does this relate our pursuing sanctification with "fear and trembling"?

Renovating the Heart: Inside Out or Outside In?

2008-04-08T23:25:00.012-04:00

For this new series of CrossTraining sessions, we're reading through
Dallas Willard's "Renovation of the Heart."

In this book, Willard makes a strong case for the radical interiority of human spirituality and obedience - the 'heart' of the matter, if you will (see Mk.7:6-23). However, he also argues that it is in the exercise of spiritual disciplines, which entail bodily actions (e.g., fasting, solitude, even physical posturing for prayer), that Christ is realistically and progressively formed within us (cf. Gal.4:19).

How do you account for the apparent paradox between the radical interiority of spiritual life on the one hand, and the inevitable 'externality' of obedience, service, and the exercise of various disciplines, which are used to cultivate it, on the other? How do you see them relating? Do we work from the inside out (right heart -> right action), or the outside in (right action -> right heart)?