Douglas Wilson’s Letter From Moscow

Getting It Right

Douglas Wilson

Blog and Mablog

October 11, 2014

Once there was a Presbyterian minister who had made the whole topic of sola fide his special field of study. He had mastered the subject, as far as any mortal man can be said to have mastered anything. After a long and fruitful ministry, he eventually did what all Presbyterian ministers do, which is to say, he died.

As he approached the pearly gates, he was mildly surprised to see that St. Peter was there, just like in all the jokes. But he was, he thought, prepared to roll with it because, after all, he was going to Heaven.

Right next to St. Peter was a long wooden table, of the kind you see in examination rooms. A chair was pulled out for him, and on the table was a thick test, and a pencil next to it. As he walked up to St. Peter, he was greeted warmly and the set-up was explained to him.

“We have prepared a small fifty-page test for you,” Peter said. “Because we believe in grace, we decided to prepare a test for you that is right in your wheelhouse. This entire test is dedicated to the subject of sola fide, a subject you have been studying for forty years, I understand. If you get a perfect score, you may enter into joy.” With that pronouncement, Peter handed the pencil to the minister, and gestured to the waiting chair.

The minister held the pencil for a moment, thinking about it, and then quietly, without a word, he handed the pencil back.

A smile played around the corner of St. Peter’s mouth. “You pass,” he said.

Amazing Grace

Breaking the Cycle of Curse

Modern secular society has a fetish over youth.  Which is a way of saying that the preceding generation has lost self-respect.  There are few things more shameful than witnessing disrespect for elders.  One of them is elders taken in self-loathing who attempt to cope by falling into an egregious adulation of youth.  “We, in our generation, have failed miserably.  We have been terrible.  But the youth of today–well, to them belongs the future.  They are wonderful.”  The adulation of youth serves as a pathetic attempt at atonement for the guilt of a generation which rebelled against God, but discovered when it was all too late that things had not worked out so well.

Jonah Goldberg describes it this way:

For generations now, but particularly since the rise of the baby boomers, we have institutionalized  the idea that young people are simply fantastic for no other reason than that they are young.  It has become part of our formal educational philosophy to tell kids they are awesome for no apparent reason.  [Jonah Goldberg, The Tyranny of Cliches: How Liberals Cheat in the War of Ideas (New York: Sentinel/Penguin, 2012), p. 223.]

The end result?  A generation of self-absorbed narcissists, unable to get jobs, embittered that the adulation enjoyed as a young person has not continued into adult life.  The upshot: a persistent conviction that society owes them something.  But recall that it all begins with the generation that went before, which has gnawed at its own bones with self-doubt and self-hatred.  

The Christian world-view commands respect for one’s elders (Exodus 20:12), particularly our fathers and mothers.  It warns against the lusts and follies of youth.  It requires that young people be willing to learn the wisdom which the aged offer.

But all of this breaks down when the aged are actually fools, living a life of stubborn rebellion against God.  Sins pass down through generations, as well as righteousness.  Evil patterns reproduce in the lives of those who come after.  Sins, we are told, come down to the third and the fourth generation–a divine pattern which can be broken only by the mercy of God Himself.

This implies that by the third and the fourth generations, things have become so dysfunctional that kids suffering under the ravages of living in alcoholic, drug infused, violent “homes” reach the point where they begin to think there has to be a better way to live.  Sin and its promises become loathsome.  At that point their ears can become open to hear–and take seriously–the offer of new beginnings, of new life in Christ.  When such are converted they usually reject outright the only way of life they have known–along with its all-too-familiar devastations and degradations.

It is at this point that the designation of the Church as a family (brothers, sisters, elders, mothers, fathers) becomes one of the most blessed realities of the new life, created by God’s Spirit within.  Overnight they become adopted into a new family with an older generation which manifests the sanctification and graces of true wisdom and understanding.  As they start to build new lives, the cyclical curse of elders passing on a  life of sinfulness, self-loathing, and restless anger to those coming after is broken.  It is removed. Amazing Grace ceases to be “just a hymn”; it becomes an actual experience.

Only the Christ is big enough and powerful enough to do this.  When He does, it is one of the most beautiful things to behold, far beyond any passing glories of this world. 

Calvin’s Daily Devotional

Daily Devotional

June 13

Thine Is My Heart: Devotional Readings from the Writings of John Calvin

by John Calvin (compiled by John H. Kromminga)
Republished from the OPC Website

Bible Text:
Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. —Ephesians 5:14

Devotional:
As soon as the smallest particle of grace is infused into our minds, we begin to contemplate the Divine countenance as now placid, serene, and propitious to us; it is indeed a very distant prospect, but so clear that we know we are not deceived. Afterwards, in proportion as we improve—for we ought to be continually improving by progressive advances—we arrive at a nearer, and therefore more certain view of him, and by continual habit he becomes more familiar to us.

Thus we see that a mind illuminated by the knowledge of God is at first involved in much ignorance, which is removed by slow degrees. Yet it is not prevented either by its ignorance of some things, or by its obscure view of what it beholds, from enjoying a clear knowledge of the Divine will respecting itself, which is the first and principal exercise of faith.

For, as a man who is confined in a prison, into which the sun shines only obliquely and partially through a very small window, is deprived of a full view of that luminary, yet clearly perceives its splendor and experiences its beneficial influences—thus we, who are bound with terrestrial and corporeal fetters, though surrounded on all sides with great obscurity, are nevertheless illuminated, sufficiently for all the purposes of real security, by the light of God shining ever so feebly to discover his mercy. —Institutes, III, ii, xix

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John Calvin was the premier theologian of the Reformation, but also a pious and godly Christian pastor who endeavored throughout his life to point men and women to Christ. We are grateful to Reformation Heritage Books for permission to use John Calvin’s Thine Is My Heart as our daily devotional for 2013 on the OPC Web site. You can currently obtain a printed copy of that book from Reformation Heritage Books.

Douglas Wilson’s Letter From America

The Cootie Contagion Radius 

Liturgy and Worship – Exhortation
Written by Douglas Wilson
Saturday, 02 March 2013

One of the things we have to learn as Christians is that, when it comes to appearances, we clean up real nice. But we also have to remember that this is also true of whited sepulchers. They clean up real nice also.

When new Christians join us, still reeling and recovering from all the problems they have had, they are presented with the same optical illusion presented to children who grow up among us. That illusion tells you that you “are the only sinner here.” If people knew what my thought life was like, they wouldn’t have anything to do with me. If people knew the state of my heart, they would shun me. If people knew my past, they would stay out of the cootie contagion radius.

But all of us are a piece of work.
Remember that your fellowship with God is not dependent upon whether or not other Christians treat you right. Rather, your fellowship with other Christians is dependent upon whether or not God has received you. And if God has received you, He has done so even though He knows all of your sins in exhaustive and excruciating detail. What could you tell Him about the state of your heart that would surprise Him, and make Him call your salvation deal off?

If God were to mark iniquities, no one in this room could stand. But if the Word says, as it does, that with Him is forgiveness of sins, it follows from this that everyone in this room can stand. It is true we must take our stand in the grace of God, but having done so, we may stand.

Getting the Perspective Right

Like a Blind Man Trying to Understand Color 

Justin Taylor|
December 7, 2012

Herman Bavinck once wrote that “If God were to speak to us in a divine language, not a creature would understand him.” We could say that it’s like a blind man trying to understand color—as illustrated in the video below:

 
HT: 22 Words
But thanks be to God that he has graciously condescended to speak to us, in a sense, from the ground up, using what we can see, touch, hear, and feel to explain eternal and invisible things. Bavinck continues:

But what spells out his grace is the fact that from the moment of creation God stoops down to his creatures, speaking and appearing to them in human fashion. This is why all the names by which God calls himself and allows us to call him are derived from earthly and human relations. (Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, Vol. 2: God and Creation [Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006], 100)

And yet this doesn’t mean that everything revealed is fully comprehensible. So the next time you’re tempted to think that certain things in God’s Word can’t be true or are irrational because they can’t be fully explained, just remember that perhaps it is like a blind man trying to understand color.

Sown Seeds

Loathsome Words And Withered Hands

Most of us who are Christians can look back in our lives and discern what we could not at the time–the hand of God Himself.  Things said, books read, people met, or unbidden thoughts that provoked and disturbed.  It is only in hindsight that we can now see the full impact and significant force of these circumstantial events.  We now see that in them God was at work, sowing seeds that one day would spring up to evergreen life. 

Most often these circumstances and events served to disturb, to provoke discomfort.
  Peter Hitchens, raised in a nominally Christian home and sent to a public school, gives us his account of the seeds sown.

There were other things too.  During a short spell at a cathedral choir school . . . I had experienced the intense beauty of the ancient Anglican chants, spiraling up into chilly stone vaults at Evensong.  This sunset ceremony is the very heart of English Christianity.  The prehistoric, mysterious poetry of the Magnificat and the Nunc Dimittis, perhaps a melancholy evening hymn, and the cold, ancient laments and curses of the Psalms, as the unique slow dusk of England gathers outside and inside the echoing, haunted, impossible old building are extraordinarily potent.  If you welcome them, they have an astonishing power to reassure and comfort.  If you suspect or mistrust them, they will alarm and repel you like a strong and unwanted magic, something to flee from before it takes hold. . . .

But above all I had discovered–and strongly feared and disliked–the ancient catechism . . . . (I) was actively angry and resentful at the catechism’s insistence on rules I had no intention of obeying.  By the time I was around twelve, I had a sense, when I encountered this text, of a very old and withered hand reaching out from a dusty tomb-like cavity and seeking to pull me down into its hole forever. 

The dark purity of the seventeenth-century language was also disturbing.  It was the voice of the dead, speaking as if they were still alive and as if the world had not changed since they died–when I thought I knew that the world was wholly alterable and that the rules changed with the times.  Now I am comforted greatly by this voice, welcoming the intervention of my forebears in our lives and in their insistent reminder that we do not in fact change at all, that as I am now, so once were they, and as they are now, so shall I be. . . . The words I found myself particularly loathing formed part of the answer to the question: “What is thy duty towards God?”  They run: “To submit myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters: to order myself lowly and reverently to all my betters . . . to do my duty in that state of life, unto which it shall please God to call me.”

This passage well expressed the thing that the confident, ambitious young person dislikes about religion: its call for submission–submission!–to established authority, and its disturbing implication that others can and will decide what I must be and do.  [Peter Hitchens, The Rage Against God: How Atheism Led Me to Faith (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2010), pp 26-28.]

While the specific circumstances may differ we suspect that many, if not most, Christians could give similar accounts of the long and painstaking work of God in their lives preparing them to meet Him against Whom they had long been kicking. 

Douglas Wilson’s Letter From America

Our Doctrinal and Liturgical Bramble Bushes 

Theology – Life in the Regeneration
Written by Douglas Wilson
Monday, 30 April 2012

I am fond of saying that grace has a backbone, but I think it is time to explain what I mean by that. The context of these remarks is the general and current ongoing discussion about the worrisome trajectories of all those incipient legalists and antinomians out there. The incipient legalists are the ones the incipient antinominans are worried about, and vice versa.

Of course, as things stand right now in the Reformed world things are generally copacetic, at least as far as this topic goes. If we lived in a truly confessional age, with great preaching, theological geniuses writing their tomes, and so on, then we would have to worry about the naked Quakers running through Safeway again, and legalistic Anglican bishops cutting off people’s thumbs for having broken some stupid rule. But as it is, we are too anemic to get into serious trouble with legalism or antinomianism. We are the bland leading the bland,
which provides us with some small measure of imagined safety, at least for a time.

So what is the relationship of the grace of God to the (seemingly unrelated) world of hard moral effort? If the grace of God is in all and through all, and beneath us all, then why do we still have to sweat bullets? Are those who sweat bullets abandoning the grace of God? Are those who rejoice in free forgiveness forsaking the demands of discipleship?

I recently finished another book by my favorite Puritan writer, Thomas Watson, and the book was Heaven Taken by Storm, his exposition of Matthew 11:12. Throughout the book Watson seems to regard the whole grace/works thing with a serene and admirable above-it-all-ness. He will say, on the one hand, that while Christ bled, you must sweat. But on the other hand, he says, “Though we shall not obtain the kingdom without violence, yet it shall also not be obtained for our violence.”

I am reminded of comment that Spurgeon made once when asked how he reconciled divine sovereignty with human responsibility. He replied that he did not even try — he never sought to reconcile friends. If we think about it rightly, from the vantage of those jealous for moral probity, we will never try to reconcile grace with works — that would be like trying to reconcile an apple tree with its apples. And, if we think about it rightly, from the vantage of those jealous for the wildness of grace, we will never try to reconcile grace with merit, for the two are mortal enemies and cannot be reconciled.

But those who insist that apple trees must always produce apples will make the friends of free grace nervous, not because they have anything against apples, but rather because they know the human propensity for manufacturing shiny plastic apples, with the little hooks that make it easy to hang them, like so many Christmas tree ornaments, on our doctrinal and liturgical bramble bushes. But on the other hand, those who insist that true grace always messes up the categories of the ecclesiastical fussers make the friends of true moral order nervous — because there are, after all, numerous warnings (from people like Jesus and Paul, who should have a place in these particular discussions, after all) about those who “live this way” not inheriting the kingdom. Kind of cold, according to some people, but the wedding banquet is the kind of event you can get thrown out of.

So what is the relationship of grace to hard, moral effort? Well, hard, moral effort is a grace. It is not every grace, but it is a true grace. It is a gift of God, lest any should boast. We are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, and this is a description of someone being saved by grace through faith, and not by works (Eph. 2:8-10).

This is all summed up in another glorious passage as well — “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:12-13). We are called to work out what God works in, and absolutely nothing else. If we don’t work out that salvation (as evidenced by the fruit of it), then that is clear evidence that God is not working anything in.
If we work out some pressboard imitation (a salvation that has the look of real wood!), then that shows that God is not working anything in there either. Moralism is just a three-dollar flashlight to light the pathway to Hell with. And of course, if we are guilty of the opposite error, if our lives are manifesting a lineup of dirty deeds done dirt cheap, the only real sin we are avoiding is that of hypocrisy. Overt immorality is the fifty-dollar flashlight.

This is why we need a little more of “in Him we live and move and have our being.” Actually, we need a lot more of it. The answer to the grace/works dilemma is high octane Calvinism, and by this, I don’t mean the formulaic kind. If God is the one Paul preached — the one of whom it can be said “of him, and through him, and to him, are all things” — then where in the universe are you going to hide your damned merit? If He is Almighty God, and He starts to transform your tawdry little life into something resembling Jesus, who are you to tell Him that He is now wavering on the brink of dangerous legalisms?

By the way, my use of damned a few lines up was not frivolous swearing. I meant damned merit. And no, I don’t think I am C.S. Lewis.

The bottom line is that we cannot balance our notions of grace with works or our notions of works with grace. We need to get off that particular teeter totter. We have to balance absolutely everything in our lives with God Himself, who is the font of everlasting grace — real grace. Real grace is the context of everything. If we preach the supremacy of God in Christ, and the absolute lordship of that bleeding Christ, and the efficacious work of the Spirit in us who raised Jesus from the dead, then a number of other things will resolve themselves in a multitude of wonderful ways. Those wonderful ways will be seen by a watching world as something they will call good works. We can call them that too, if we want, as Paul makes free to do in Titus. And when unbelievers ask us where these works come from, we need to chuckle and say, “Where everything does. From Jesus, man.”

In Jesus, we are the new humanity. Is Jesus grace or works? Jesus lives in the garden of God’s everlasting favor, and we are in Him. In Christ, there are no prohibited trees. Outside Him, they are all prohibited. That means there is only one real question to answer, and it does not involve any grace/works ratios. The question is more basic than that, and has to do with the new birth.

>How Marvellous are Thy Works

>The Power of Christ in the Dark Places of the World

It seems that many of today’s prisons are becoming places of Amazing Grace.  We heard Pastor Alistair Begg, of Parkside Church in Cleveland reading some letters to the congregation received as a result of the church’s radio ministry.  Several had come from prisoners.  One wrote:

I have been faithful in serving the Lord these last seven or eight years. I have been incarcerated now for over twenty years. As one brother put it, since I was arrested at 17, I know nothing of life.

I just finished listening to your study on the Father’s discipline, from 1998. I may not know much about life but I can agree with the Psalmist when he writes,

Lord you are my portion and my cup of blessing;
You hold my future.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.

This chap, is probably a lifer, and therefore likely to be a murderer. He may spend the rest of his life in prison. The same infinite power of the Holy Spirit which saved the thief on the Cross, causing him to be born again, in the most helpless and hopeless of circumstances, is blowing across the prisons. The wretched of the earth are becoming glorious citizens of the heavenly kingdom.

Similar testimonies and accounts can be heard from within our own prisons, here in New Zealand.

Chuck Colson has written an essay on the power of forgiveness.  In it he describes some of the amazing things he has observed as a result of prisoners becoming Christians.  God is good and glorious indeed.

>Prime Mincing

>Of “Tinkerbell”, Bon Mots, Pederastic Economics, and Ad Hominem

Trevor Mallard, Labour MP appears lazy or somewhat intellectually challenged. As evidence we would offer his habitual mode of ad hominem attacks when “arguing” against opponents and their views. As they say, ad hominem is the first refuge of a lazy mind. Not that Mallard is alone in this. Regrettably, ad hominem is the discourse of choice for most politicians–although our current Prime Minister, John Key has shown repeatedly that he is cut from a different cloth, for which we commend him.

In any event, if you are going to insult an opponent, at least it should be funny. The other day Prime Minister Key was on the catwalk modelling rugby world cup kit. He affected a mincing walk. It was a bit lame, if you would excuse the pun. In any event, Mallard subsequently referred to Key as the “Prime Mincer” in the House. That strikes us as quite clever–and funny. Mallard has subsequently been called out for being homophobic. We would say in retort, lighten up. Let’s be rid of the killjoy, black-stocking moroseness of political correctness. The studied witty insult can be a great weapon, when used appropriately rather than gratuitously.

Apparently, however, Mallard has form in this area. He previously referred to a homosexual minister opposite as “tinkerbell”. We suspect that this betrays his orientation and predilection for ad hominem. Let’s be clear. We believe homosexuality to be sinful, an extreme type of fornication. But that does not mean that the entire life and being of a homosexual can be rejected or impugned because of his or her homosexuality.

John Maynard Keynes was arguably one of the most influential economists of the twentieth century. These days he is making a bit of a comeback, with increased interest in his published works since the seizing up of credit markets in 2008. Keynes was a pederast. That does not mean that all his academic and professional work was as deeply flawed as his sexual ethics. One simply cannot dismiss Keynes’s work as “pederastic economics”. We have learnt much from Keynes. For instance his bon mot: “the market can stay irrational far longer than you can stay solvent.” So true. So insightful. So easily forgotten by lesser men in the grip of animal spirits.

We have worked with homosexuals, adulterers, serial lechers, serial monogamists, the lascivious and the lewd. Most did good work; some outstanding. To oppose someone’s argument or work or contribution because of their sexual ethics is bizarre, to say the least. At the same time, it is equally wrong to reject someone because they believe the libertinism of our day is evil.

Some would retort that human beings are not bifurcated nor compartmentalised. What one believes and does in one area of life will inevitably influence and couch all of one’s being. A thief who shoplifts will have an attitude to the property of others that will likely show up in other ways. Possibly. But few are completely consistent in evil–thankfully. History shows us a few exceptions. Stalin would be one. Certainly not mad, but demonic; by all accounts the acme of evil. The vast majority of us human beings remain persistently inconsistent in our wickedness. This is a divine blessing. It is one very important way the Lord restrains evil in society for the good of us all.

The flip-side of this is that because few human beings are as evil as they could possibly could be, we are able to relate to one another in a multitude of complex ways and levels. One can completely reject the gambling habit of one which leaves a family bereft of sustenance, for example, whilst appreciating and approbating his friendly, easy going nature at work. On the other hand, it is impossible to conceive of becoming a “mate” of Stalin, without acting collegially in his evil.

All human societies, however, end up stipulating certain actions considered so gross and so evil that they put the perpetrator beyond the pale of human society. But not beyond the grace and mercy of God–as witnessed by the remarkable work of divine grace which appears to be taking place in our prison’s today. That grace is mediated through people who go beyond society’s stipulations and see criminals as people who remain made in God’s image, desperately in need of God’s forgiveness and cleansing through Jesus Christ, His Son and our Lord.

>Lies and Empty Wind

>On Antithesis and Backbones

We blogged several days ago on the fundamental agreement that lies beneath any superficial conflict between the Unbelieving West and Islam. Both agree that redemption comes by law.

Islam (which means “submission”) teaches that salvation and redemption to both man and society comes from submitting to the law of Allah, as revealed by the prophet Mohammed, or the hadith, or (in the case of Shia) the successive Imams. The Unbelieving West also has a doctrine of redemption by law: as society looking more and more to the State, its laws and regulations to solve all of mankind’s problems—whether it be disease control, arresting climate change, relieving poverty, banishing crime, or even preventing and restituting accidents.

The only disputes between the Unbelieving West and Islam are intra-mural ones—disputes over the source and content of the law. Both, however, agree that law redeems, and that mankind can be saved by submission to it. Now there is an interesting historical development that has taken place in Islam which puts it even closer to the West. While formally the law comes from the idol god, Allah, in actual practice the source of law and its application comes from the Islamic state, or whoever is in control of the civil magistracy in respective Islamic societies.

The formal confession of Islam is that there is but one god, Allah and Mohammed is his prophet. But in actuality the Koran cannot stand as a complete revelation of the mind and will of Allah for man: it requires interpreters and interpretation. Moreover, because the Koran is primarily a book proclaiming salvation by law, there is no distinction in Islam between church and state. Therefore, the political powers of the day in Islamic societies have successively developed, changed, modified and altered the Koran’s teaching. Fundamentally, Islamic law and its development has been a statist phenomenon, and increasingly so.

Take, as an obvious example, that Mohammed never taught that women should be veiled and covered by the burkha. But subsequent traditions and teachings do (being derived from cultural practices of various historical tribes)—and they are just as binding upon the conscience of the faithful as anything in the Koran. And since the ultimate manifestation of the power and will of Allah upon earth is the state, the state will bind the conscience on these matters. Islam is intrinsically statist because it requires absolute submission to Allah, and Allah’s power is manifested primaily in the State.

So the post-Christian West and Islam agree on two fundamental doctrines: that redemption is by submission to law and that the State is the mediator and enforcer of law. There are minor disagreements over the source and content of the law. Islam formally says that the law which redeems comes from the god, Allah—but in reality, Islamic law originates in the hearts, minds, and traditions of man as manifested in the State. The West formally says that the law comes from the will of the people—but in reality the State is increasingly intrusive and despotic and answers to itself. Western government trundle on under the oppressive weight of the despotic bureaucratic machine: all incoming governments, regardless of their ideology, end up conforming. In the hearts of Unbelievers in the West and in Islam there is a deep and abiding consensus that the State is, by definition, the will of the people and the will of the people is the State. Allah and the will of the people alike end up to be little more than warranting concepts.

One recent commentator on our blog, Crusader Rabbit enjoined Christians in the West to have more backbone in standing up to encroaching Islam. He suggested there was too much “turn the other cheek” stuff in the response of the Church in the West to Islam. This, in turn, implies that there is not a sufficiently strong antithesis between Christianity and Islam.

Our response to this would be the classic “two-handed” response. (We recall that Winston Churchill once lamented that he could not find a one-handed economist!) On the one hand, amongst those churches and denominations where the gospel of the grace of God in Christ Jesus has become caked over and occluded by centuries of unbiblical traditions, redemption by law will have re-emerged. Where this is so, the ravine that stands between Islam and the Church and the Unbelieving West and the Church will have filled up with human detritus to where there is little more than a shallow ditch separating the Church from Islam. In such cases, Crusader Rabbit’s lament is justly uttered. In such places both Islam and such unfaithful churches share a common belief that redemption is by law, and the only disputes turn around the content of the law which redeems, which in turn devolves down to matters of social conditioning and preferences.

On the other hand, amongst those churches and denominations where there is both a clear proclamation from the Scriptures and belief amongst the people that redemption is not a matter of law, but a matter of the grace and mercy of God, by faith in Christ Jesus alone, the antithesis is deep and unbridgeable.

This is not to say that we have been as faithful to the antithesis as we ought, nor that we have properly thought through all the implications. To do this properly requires both wisdom and courage. In this we have much to learn. Learning how to be kind and loving to our enemies, whilst being resolutely faithful to our Lord and His total dominion, and whilst calling these same enemies to repent of their law-redemption and turn to Christ that they too may be saved is neither easy nor something in which we are naturally facile.

But the antithesis is there: it is deep and obvious, and it cannot be removed by man. For from the very dawn of the human race, God said, “I will put enmity between your (Satan’s) children and the children of Eve” (Genesis 3:15). He alone can remove it and He has subsequently made clear that He removes it only in the Person and work of His Son, Jesus Christ. (Acts 4:12) Before Him, Allah is a wretched idol and Mohammed is a false prophet. He will not have them in His presence (Exodus 20:3); they are lies and empty wind.

>"Miserable Sinner" Christianity

>A Life of Exultant Joy

B.B. Warfield (1851–1921), Professor of Polemical Theology at Princeton Theological Seminary, wrote an essay in 1920 entitled, “’Miserable-Sinner Christianity’ in the Hands of the Rationalists,” published in The Works of Benjamin B. Warfield, vol. 7, pp. 113-114.

The essay deconstructs the attempts by rationalistic theologians of his day to re-interpret the Gospel of Christ to make salvation a synergistic work between man and God. Here is an excerpt:

We must always be accepted for Christ’s sake, or we cannot ever be accepted at all.This is not true of us only “when we believe.” It is just as true after we have believed. It will continue to be true as long as we live.

Our need of Christ does not cease with our believing; nor does the nature of our relation to Him or to God through Him ever alter, no matter what our attainments in Christian graces or our achievements in Christian behavior may be.

It is always on His “blood and righteousness” alone that we can rest. There is never anything that we are or have or do that can take His place, or that can take a place along with Him. We are always unworthy, and all that we have or do of good is always of pure grace.

Though blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenlies in Christ, we are still in ourselves just “miserable sinners”: “miserable sinners” saved by grace to be sure, but “miserable sinners” still, deserving in ourselves nothing but everlasting wrath. That is the attitude which the Reformers took, and that is the attitude which the Protestant world has learned from the Reformers to take, toward the relation of believers to Christ.

There is emphasized in this attitude the believer’s continued sinfulness in fact and in act; and his continued sense of his sinfulness. And this carries with it recognition of the necessity of unbroken penitence throughout life. The Christian is conceived fundamentally in other words as a penitent sinner.

But that is not all that is to be said: it is not even the main thing that must be said. It is therefore gravely inadequate to describe the spirit of “miserable sinner Christianity” as “the spirit of continuous but not unhopeful penitence.” It is not merely that it is too negative a description, and that we must at least say, “the spirit of continuous though hopeful penitence.” It is wholly uncomprehending description, and misplaces the emphasis altogether.

The spirit of this Christianity is a spirit of penitent indeed, but overmastering exultation. The attitude of the “miserable sinner” is not only not one of despair; it is not even one of depression; and not even one of hesitation or doubt; hope is too weak a word to apply to it. It is an attitude of exultant joy. Only this joy has its ground not in ourselves but in our Savior.

We are sinners and we know ourselves to be sinners, lost and helpless in ourselves. But we are saved sinners; and it is our salvation which gives the tone to our life, a tone of joy which swells in exact proportion to the sense we have of our ill-desert; for it is he to whom much is forgiven who loves much, and who, loving, rejoices much.

Hat Tip: Justin Taylor

>ChnMind 2:11 Welfare is a Dividing Issue

>Welfare is One of the Great Divides

New Zealand is a nation which officially represents the Great Lie—that Man is the measure and master of all things. In its national life it is a working example of Athens, the City of Unbelief.

As such it provides an excellent case study with which to compare and contrast with the City of God. As we draw the contrasts and comparisons, certain issues emerge which become deep rift valleys between the City of Man and the City of God. These are the defining, Rubicon-like issues which betray whether we are in the broad, tree lined boulevards of Jerusalem, or the dusty dessicated ditches of Athens.

Welfare is such a defining issue. Welfare is one of the issues that tell us that Jerusalem is Jerusalem, and Athens is Athens and ne’er the twain shall meet. For Athens, welfare is a human right, and is therefore a matter of justice. The government, as the minister of justice, must therefore be involved in ensuring that all its citizens are treated with justice—which means that all its citizens are provided with welfare. In Athens, welfare is an involuntary matter. Wealth and capital must be redistributed to the poor as a matter of justice.

For Jerusalem, however, welfare is a matter of charity—that is, it is a matter of grace, not justice. Grace is always free; it cannot be compelled. In Jerusalem no-one therefore has a title, or a right in law, to welfare. In fact, as we shall see in future posts, Jerusalem’s constitution prohibits the state from any involvement in welfare whatsoever. Therefore, welfare in Jerusalem is always the duty and responsibility of the voluntary, non-state sector.

The phrase “duty and responsibility” is deliberately chosen. Jerusalem abhors the “devil take the hindmost” ideology of those humanists who argue that the amassing of wealth does not bring responsibilities to others. The constitutional documents of the City make it very clear that the Lord Himself is the defender of the poor, the defenceless, the orphan and the widow. (Psalm 146:9; Proverbs 15:25; Malachi 3:5) Anyone, therefore, who does not take up his duties and responsibilities to the needy will face the Lord Himself: He provides the sanctions and executes the judgements upon those who harden their heart against the poor.

As we have noted before, the City of Jerusalem is a voluntary City, insofar as its citizens enter its gates freely, out of a free-will love of God. No-one can compel such love; no-one can order the will of another to believe and obey. God alone is the compeller of men’s hearts. It is He Who draws men to the love of Himself. He does so by the power of His Spirit, as He opens eyes and grants the gift of faith to His elect. Thus the most important form of government in the City is self-government: the government which arises from men and women obeying God from the heart, having His Law inscribed within by a miraculous work of His Spirit.

In this light, welfare is truly a matter of charity, of voluntary actions which citizens of the City undertake as part of their duty and responsibility to God Himself. The blessings and the benefits of this estate are considerable.

Firstly, welfare is personal. It is heart to heart, person to person. Therefore it is a true expression and outworking of love from one or more people to others.Consequently , charity and welfare is uplifting both to the giver (for the one who gives is more blessed than the one who receives) and the recipient. To the giver, the blessedness of generosity leads to even greater giving. The Scripture says that the Lord loves a cheerful giver. The generous soul, experiencing the love of God, becomes even more generous as the years pass. Generosity multiplies.

To the recipient, experiencing the love and kindness of another human being is immensely encouraging and uplifting (unless the heart has been taken captive by a spirit of pride). It affirms the dignity and worth of the needy. Within Jerusalem, when gifts are given to the poor, it is universally true that the poor represent the Lord Himself. To give to the needy is to give to Christ Himself. Such doctrines mean that the recipient is honoured indeed.

The personalistic nature of welfare in the City means that it is almost always a helping hand upwards. It is restorative and redemptive. It is not demeaning and demoralising. By contrast, welfare in Athens is always impersonal. It is not an expression of love at all. It carries with it the cold, impersonal demeanour of a judge. There used to be an expression “cold as charity,” which captured the demoralising and destructive effect of impersonal charity being dispensed by Unbelievers. Colder still is state welfare. Much colder. It rewards neither the “giver” who has had his property taken under compulsion through taxation and distributed to others, nor the recipient—for there is no love or compassion towards the needy from the giver in state welfare. There is only the impersonal “system.”

State welfare grinds the faces of those who live off it. It destroys them from the inside out. That is why in Athens you find intergenerational welfare slaves—up to four generations of people who have known nothing but living all their lives dependant upon state welfare. They are entrapped. They are the permanent underclass. They are the walking dead. This is the inevitable fruit of impersonal state welfare: it is neither loving nor just. It is one of the great evils of the modern world—despite the fact that it is one of Athens’s proudest boasts. In the different estates of welfare, we see displayed the glory of the City of our Lord Jesus, on the one hand, and the shame and degradation of the City of Unbelief, on the other. Welfare truly is one of the great divides.

Secondly, in Jerusalem the estate of welfare emphasizes the duty and responsibility of both giver and recipient. We have spoken of the duty upon everyone to extend love and gifts to others in need. But duty does not stop there. The Scriptures also speak of the duties that are upon those who receive welfare. In Jerusalem, when one receives, one accepts the attendant obligations. The first obligation is thankfulness to God—and only then thankfulness to His servants. We are all commanded to give thanks, in all circumstances, because this is God’s directive to us. (I Thessalonians 5:18)

When Paul was raising money amongst the Gentile churches for the poor in the churches of Judea, due to famine in that region, he says, “For the ministry of this service is not only fully supplying the needs of the saints, but is also overflowing through many thanksgivings to God. Because of the proof given by this ministry they will glorify God for your obedience to the confession of the gospel of Christ, and for the liberality of your contribution tot hem and to all, while they also, by prayer on your behalf, yearn for you because of the surpassing grace of God in you. Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!” (II Corinthians 9: 12—15) Both the givers and the recipients are overtaken with thankfulness.

Another responsibility upon the welfare recipients in Jerusalem is to do what they can to strive to cease being needful of support and better themselves so that they can in turn support others. This continues a basic ethic of the City: those who have received must stand ready to give to others. The Apostle lays down the law of the City as follows: “We urge you, brethren, . . . to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your own hands, just as we commanded you; so that you may behave properly toward outsiders and not be in any need.” (I Thessalonians 4: 11) Every citizen has a duty to work so that they may not be in any need—so that they may not rely upon nor require welfare assistance from others. This is the duty of every welfare recipient—to do what they can to get themselves in a position where they are in need no longer.

As we have seen previously, if any welfare recipient disregards this duty, and will not strive and labour to place themselves in a position where they no longer need any help, let them starve. In other words, if any refuse to take up their responsibilities to move off welfare, the constitutional documents of the City require that we cease supporting them. They have become thieves, not truly needy.

The fundamental obligation of all such is that they steal no longer, but that they are to labour, performing with his own hands what is good, in order that he may have something to share with him who has need. (Ephesians 4: 28). Thus, the duty of all recipients of welfare is to get themselves (that is, by their own hand) to the point where they no longer need support, but are able, instead, to support others.

This means that in Jerusalem, when one gives to the needy, the gift will just keep on giving, as that person eventually re-establishes himself and in turn commences giving to others. Once again, charity in Jerusalem is redemptive, uplifting, restorative, and multiplying.

The contrast with how welfare works in Athens could not be more stark. Under “welfare as human right” administered by the state’s compulsion there is no obligation or moral imperative whatsoever for the recipient to be thankful. In Athens, the recipient of welfare is owed the money. It is what is due him. That is what is means for welfare to be considered a human right. Moreover, there is no obligation to get off welfare and to get oneself in a position of supporting others.

From time to time, Athens tries to introduce “work for the dole” schemes, or variants thereof. The idea is that a duty or obligation of some sort be placed upon the welfare recipient so that they get themselves off welfare dependance. Such ideas always fail: they are dashed upon the impregnable rocky cliffs of “welfare as a right” ideology. They are a fundamental contradiction in terms with state or governmental welfare, based on purported human rights. For this reason, Athens cannot sustain a doctrine or concept of the undeserving poor, who are really thieves, and from whom all welfare should be withheld. The end result is that a growing swathe of the community in Athens are lifelong thieves, who have stolen all their lives without risk of arrest or prosecution. In fact the rulers of the City has told them incessantly that they are right to be this way.

From time to time the ludicrous folly and intrinsic evil of this ideology frustrates even die-hard Athenians. They turn upon their rulers and find themselves asking a rather trenchant question: “Is it right”, they ask, “for an able bodied person to live his whole life supported by the public welfare system while he has chosen never to work a single day?” The rulers of the City shuffle their feet, stare into the middle distance, and mumble, “Yes.” They always answer, yes. The alternative is that the whole house of cards—which is Athens—will fall.

The estate of welfare and how to take care of the needy is a defining issue. It one of the issues which brings the irreconcilable difference between the Cities of Jerusalem and Athens into sharp focus.

>ChnMind 2.2 The Voluntary Nature of the Kingdom

>“Not By Might, Nor Power, but By My Spirit”

The Kingdom of God or the City of God has a constitutional framework derived from Scripture. As the Kingdom comes to pass—as it emerges and comes to greater presence and reality within any society—the structures of the Kingdom will become more evident, more influential, more powerful. But how does it come? How is the Kingdom propagated? How does it grow?

There are two options. Either the Kingdom comes by compulsion and force, or it comes by the will and desire of its citizens. It is either a Kingdom of compulsion or of voluntarism. The Scriptures make clear that the Kingdom of God comes (from a human perspective) by the will and desire of people, not by the imposition of human force, power or command.

We recognise, of course, that there are compulsory components and realms in every society. The civil magistrate, for example, does not make mere suggestions when punishing crime. Paying of taxes to support the civil magistrate is not voluntary—and so forth. (We will endeavour to address this in greater depth in the weeks and months ahead).

So, when we argue that the City of Jerusalem comes by the will and desire of the people, we are not saying that there are no compulsory elements to the Kingdom. However, we are arguing that the elements of compulsion within the City arise out of God’s command, on the one hand, and the willing determination of the people to subject themselves to the Lord’s command, on the other.

The Kingdom of God must first manifest itself in the hearts of people. Its initial beachhead, then ongoing penetration, of a pagan culture occurs through the proclamation of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. As people repent of their sins, and believe on Him, having been moved to do so by the Holy Spirit regenerating them from above, their lives, wills, hearts, and desires are fundamentally changed. For the rest of their lives they will seek and attempt to live out their lives as disciples of the Lord, being taught to observe all things which the Lord has commanded. (Matthew 28: 18—20)

This conversion from being a citizen of Athens, the City of Unbelief, to the being a citizen of Jerusalem can only take place as the mind, emotions, and will of a person are changed by God from above. Once the person was blind, now they see. Once they were dead in their trespasses and sins, now they have been made alive. This change comes about because of God’s sovereign, saving work in the life of the individual soul. This amazing work of divine mercy is trenchantly summarised in the Westminster Shorter Catechism, when it asks, “What is effectual calling?”

Effectual calling is a work of God’s Spirit, whereby, convincing us of our sin and misery, enlightening our minds in the knowledge of Christ, and renewing our wills, He doth persuade and enable us to embrace Jesus Christ, freely offered to us in the Gospel
Westminster Shorter Catechism, Question 31

Such a change and transformation cannot occur by the devices or engines of man. It cannot be forced upon anyone. Only God can change the heart of unbelief. Only God can cause the dead to live. On the other hand, as a result of God’s sovereign work, the individual comes to love God and desire to serve Him. From a human perspective, then, the Kingdom of God comes to pass as people “volunteer willingly in the day of His power.” (Psalm 110: 3)

As a result of Christ’s ascension on high, and His sitting at the right hand of God, more and more people will inevitably be converted by divine power to become willing servants. The Kingdom of God is thus fundamentally a Kingdom which comes peacefully, out of the hearts of its citizens. It is a free expression of their new life in Christ. That is why the City of Athens and the City of Jerusalem can co-exist to an extent in the same physical location. That is why Jerusalem does not take up arms against Athens. It is not entitled to do so. It is not how the Kingdom comes.

Sadly, the reverse is not true. Athens, in principle a city of hatred towards God, will always tend to counsels and policies which involve hostile force against Christ’s disciples. Athens cannot change hearts and minds. In opposing Christians, it must therefore finally resort to force–which also in the end fails miserably. True, there is perpetual spiritual warfare between these two Cities. But as more and more people enter Jerusalem’s gates, departing Athens to do so, the City of Athens (its influence and power, its institutions and culture) attenuates and withers away. The Kingdom is like yeast which works as a leaven throughout Athens, transforming it from the inside out.

The Kingdom of God comes not by the sword, but by the Spirit. Not by force, but by faith. Not by compulsion, but by God’s effectual calling. Not by war, but by peace. That is why Jerusalem name means the City of Peace. As God’s Kingdom captures more and more people, transforming them from the inside out, the cultural influence and power of Jerusalem grows. It will happen as an inevitable consequence.

In our temporarily post-Christian world less than five percent of the population appear to be genuinely Christian—that is, less than five percent not only profess faith outwardly, but show that it comes from their hearts. The percentage may have a huge margin of error—only God knows. But we acknowledge that the percentage is not large. Imagine the radical difference to our society, its institutions, its government, its schools, and its culture if over eighty percent of the population were genuinely Christian. How much crime would simply have withered away? How much joy and laughter and happiness would be on the streets? How much respect and care for the aged, the infirm, the poor, the widow, the orphan?

A story is told of a student common room in a theological college years ago where an expensive camera had been left on one of the tables. No-one knew who the owner was. It was left untouched for days, until finally its owner realised it was missing and re-claimed it. No theft. You cannot manufacture that. It has to come from the hearts of all in the community—which then manifests itself as a cultural practice. It then becomes “ordinary” or “normal”. This is what the Bible alludes to, when God promises that the day is coming when they will no longer say, “Know the Lord”: for they will all know me from the least to the greatest. (Jeremiah 31:34 & Hebrews 8:11)

From God’s perspective, the Kingdom comes by forceful, irresistible power. In this sense, the City of Jerusalem is a city of divine compulsion. From our perspective, the Kingdom comes by faith, desire, and willingness. In this sense, the City is, at the same time, one of human will and choice.

>Meditation on the Text of the Week

>The Inevitability of the New Birth and all Its Consequences

Jesus answered and said to him (Nicodemus), “Truly, truly I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. . . . unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” John 3:3

The turning point of human history, its archimedian point, was and is, the normative events of the incarnation of our Lord, His death, resurrection, ascension, and session—or, as in the slightly larger version of the Apostles Creed, He was: “born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into hell; the third day, He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.” These words signify that nothing will ever be the same again. All has changed.

All that went before, under the Old Covenant was but preparatory and a prequel. With these great events, the Lord established the kingdom of God in the creation. This kingdom was, and is, the only way such a kingdom could be: it was and is universal; it was and is not limited to time nor place; it was and is totalitarian in its scope, embracing all of the created world and everything in it. Anything less would not be the kingdom of God, for the Lord is the creator of all things; His kingdom must therefore embrace all things that He has created.

In this text of the week, our Lord asserts that one can neither see nor enter His kingdom unless one is born again by the Spirit of God. The phrase “born again” has unfortunately in our day become temporarily trivialised and devalued. Contrary to the point our Lord was making to Nicodemus, many have come mistakenly to imagine that being “born again” is within the purview and command of man. Man does this or that, engages in this or that religious rite or ritual and he is born again, seeing and entering the kingdom of God.

Our Lord, however, insists that while being born of the Spirit is essential to even seeing, let alone entering the kingdom, it remains an act of God, not of man. He uses the analogy of the wind: you see the effect of the wind, you hear the sound of it, but you can neither command nor control it. It blows where it wills. You do not know where it comes from nor where it is going: “so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8)

The essential event of being born again is God’s work, not man’s—and like all exclusively divine works, it can neither be commanded nor manipulated by man. Once regeneration has taken place, moreover, it cannot be denied, gainsaid, prevented, nor resisted by man. Once regeneration has occurred a person is made to see the kingdom, and is ineluctably and inevitably drawn into it. He therefore repents of his unbelief and sin; he believes upon the Lord Jesus Christ for his salvation; he submits to Christ as his Lord and God; and he begins to live the life of faith and faithfulness.

This is why all human kingdoms, Athenian copycat, parallel imported, cloned, or knock-off kingdoms, are doomed to fail. Because they are not of God, they cannot change the human heart; they cannot effect regeneration. They cannot create a new man. Athenian kingdoms has tried. Oh, how they have tried. And they still try. They will die trying. But failure is inevitable. Only the Creator can re-create. Only the Creator can make a new man.

Athenian fake kingdoms may change outward behaviour for a time. But because man cannot re-create mankind, all Athenian knock-offs eventually revert true to type. Sin, unbelief, and degradation reassert themselves. But the kingdom of God represents a genuine new beginning because the heart of a man is changed. This God-wrought change of heart leads the Christian to say, “Here I stand. I can do no other.” The fear of Him who can destroy both body and soul in Hell vastly outweighs the fear of those who can destroy the body only. In Luther’s immortal words:

That Word above all earthly powers–
No thanks to them–abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours
Through Him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill,
God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.

The kingdom of God is the only kingdom that will last—because it effects total change and transformation from the inside out. But it is also inevitable. Nothing can stop nor gainsay the kingdom becoming the stone which fills the whole earth. Why? Because nothing can prevent the Spirit of God bringing regeneration and new birth to men. Just as a man cannot prevent the wind from blowing, so he cannot prevent men being born again and then entering the kingdom of God.

That is why the man Christ Jesus is the turning point of all human history. That is why nothing will ever be the same again. That is why Jesus declared the (former) ruler of this world to be cast out.

Blessed indeed are all those who have been born again, and as a consequence have seen and entered the kingdom of God.

>Sabbath Meditation

>The Power and The Privilege

If God has appointed means (methods, institutions, practices) by which His grace comes to us and He transforms us, this gives us both a great power and an enormous privilege.

The implications are significant. Firstly, it means that we can take meaningful responsibility for our spiritual lives and the spiritual lives of those who are dependant upon us. The ordination of means, or to use a theological term, God’s establishment of second causes, empowers man to achieve, and accomplish. Because God has instituted the means by which a seed germinates (warmth and moisture) and these means are constant and unchanging, when we discover or apprehend these second causes, we can “cause” seeds to germinate, by applying the God ordained means. God’s steadfastness, constancy and faithfulness in maintaining the means ensure that the means will be effective.

As we have argued in a previous Sabbath Meditation, God has likewise established means for spiritual life and growth. Theologians have called these the means of grace. By applying these means, in faith—looking to God and depending upon Him—we can expect that God will work in our lives, transforming us, enabling us to mature as His children and servants. The means of grace empower us to work at, achieve, and accomplish spiritual growth. Our destiny is in our hands.

Secondly, we have reason to expect and experience God’s powerful working in our lives. The Scriptures make abundantly clear that the saving work of God in our lives is solely at the pleasure and prerogative of God alone. He said to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy and compassion upon whom I have compassion.” Paul takes up this revelation and applies it to everyman: “So then He has mercy on whom he desires, and he hardens whom He desires.” (Romans 9: 15,16)

Consequently, the Lord, when instructing Nicodemus on the new birth first makes it abundantly clear that one cannot enter the Kingdom of God unless one is born again. But this new birth comes to a person from the Spirit of God, and no-one can command or direct the Spirit. “The wind (in Greek, the same word is used for Spirit as wind, so our Lord is making a clever play upon words) blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3: 8) Like the wind, we can tell of the presence of the Spirit by the fruit that is borne; but we cannot tell whence the Spirit has come, nor where He will go next.

Nevertheless, because God has appointed means by which, in which, and through which the Spirit of God works in our lives, we have reason to expect that as we use the means of grace and take hold of them and wield them, the Spirit of God will work amongst us.

Now at this point, we need to make some careful distinctions, for ever our hearts are ready to swerve off into idolatry of one kind or other. The essence of idolatry is to believe that one has control over one’s god. We first make the image before we bow down to it. The idolater controls and shapes the god before he worships it. That is why, at heart, idolatry is really self-worship.

If we fall into the trap of thinking that the established means of grace give us control over God, that the means of grace function as some sort of automatic magical, incantation by which God is manipulated, then we have fallen over into the slough of idolatry. We do not manipulate or command God by the means of grace; on the contrary, He manipulates and commands us. Therefore, we take hold of the means of grace in reverent faith, looking to God, not to the means themselves. Without God’s good pleasure and gracious mercy they are empty clanging symbols.

But as we look to God, believe in Him, and believe that because He has appointed the means by which His grace comes, and as we take up these means and enter into their use, we can expect that God will indeed pour out His Spirit upon us.

Thirdly, this indicates that the means of grace are holy. They are special. They are associated with the presence and power of God. By these means, as we lift up our hearts to God, He Himself draws close to us and ministers to us.

Imagine if God wrote you a letter to the effect that He wanted to meet with you, and that He would be at a certain place at a certain time, and asked you to be there that He might enjoy your company and bless you with His grace and favour. That letter, that appointment would become an institution or means of grace. But it would be the most holy (different, sanctified, set apart for God) of times and places for you—and God. It does not take much imagination to get a strong sense of how we would long for the day to come; how we would hasten to the appointment. Nothing on earth would keep us or distract us.

So, the means of grace are the sacred things of life; all other things are the profane. This does not mean that the rest of life is not to be holy and sanctified to the Lord. On the contrary. But the means of grace are different insofar as these are the special means by which God blesses us face to face, as it were. These are the appointed means by which the Lord joins Himself with us, rejoices in our presence, and blesses us with life and favour.

The first means of grace—greatest because first—is the Sabbath Day. On that day, the Lord releases us from all our other duties and responsibilities as His servants on the earth so that we might enter a holy convocation with Him, and celebrate because He is amongst us. At the very beginning, we read that God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it. He made it holy.

As we enter into the Sabbath regarding it as a means of grace, so we will look to the Lord particularly to minister to us and bless us on that day. And so we will be blessed with every spiritual (Holy Spirit wrought) blessing which He is particularly pleased to bestow on that holy day. Sabbath celebration is one of our greatest responsibilities, but also an incalculable privilege.

By it, we are transformed from one degree of glory to another because at that time God presences Himself amongst us as face to face.

>Sabbath Meditation

>The Means of Grace

A Christian doctrine that has largely “passed from the sight of mortal men” is the doctrine of the means of grace. It was at the heart of much Reformational theology and teaching. Today it is scarcely heard, even amongst those who identify with the teachings and traditions of the Reformation.

Regardless of modern forgetfulness or distortions, Jerusalem must recapture and restore this great Christian doctrine. It is a vital foundation stone to building and extending God’s City. To the extent that it has been lost, Jerusalem is the weaker and poorer for it.

Actually, the phrase “means of grace” appears an oxymoron, at first glance. For grace is God’s unmerited favour to man. Man is not owed God’s goodness or favour; he has no right to it. Nevertheless, when God does bestow His favour, despite the fact we deserve it not, we call it grace. Because God’s favour is not on account of any merit we might have, we call it free—as in, God’s free grace. The idea that there could be means by which God’s grace comes to us at first glance might appear to undermine the idea that God’s mercy is free and without debt.

The divine mercy that fell upon Abraham and his descendants provides the eternal pattern. The Lord explicitly says that there was nothing particularly significant about Abraham. He was an idol worshiper along with everyone else, despite the fact that much later, subsequent rabbinic tradition almost deified Abraham. They forgot that every male Israelite was required to confess formally that Abraham his father was a “wandering Aramaean”—that is, a pagan Syrian. The Hebrew word translated wandering means “perishing, lost, in great danger”. (Deuteronomy 26: 5)

Abraham was taken from a family of idolaters, as the Lord declares through Joshua: “from ancient times, your fathers lived beyond the River, Terah the father of Abraham and the father of Nabor and they served other gods. Then I took your father from beyond the River and led him through all the land of Canaan.” (Joshua 24: 2,3). From that point on, every descendant, every Israelite through birth and those brought in through profession of faith knew that they were recipients of God’s grace through no merit of their own. They simply happened to be descended from Abraham, and therefore God’s love had fallen upon them.

Moses explicitly tells the people, “The Lord did not set His love on you nor choose you because you were more in number than any of the peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But the Lord loved you and kept the oath which He swore to your forefathers.” (Deuteronomy 7:8). Thus, every Israelite who could say, “I am loved by God”, when asked, “Why does God love you,” was bound to say, “Because the Lord loved my fathers and made an oath to them.” It was freely done by God. I had no part in it.

Later, as idolatry insinuated itself back into Israel’s heart, the free nature of God’s grace was obscured, if not entirely obliterated. Being a child of Abraham was distorted into a badge of merit. “Because I am descended from Abraham, therefore God owes me His favour and salvation.” In contrast were the Gentiles whom God was understood not to love. This reached its apotheosis in the time of our Lord, when Israel was rapidly filling up the cup of its transgression.

When John the Baptist was preaching the message of repentance to prepare the way for Messiah, he warned them against what was their habitual mode of thought: “do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham for our father,’ for I say to you that God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham!’” John was calling them to repent. In heart the multitudes were saying, “No, it’s OK—we are descended from Abraham and this is sufficient to merit God’s love to us.” John rudely confronts such an idolatrous notion, declaring that being descended from Abraham is of no merit whatsoever, for God is able to raise up children of Abraham from stones.

“The very fact that you are a descendant of Abraham should have confirmed to you that the salvation of God was brought to you through no merit of your own. You did not engineer your forebears. Since you have turned it into a basis of merit, let me leave you in no doubt that it is nothing, for God can throw you out, and replace you with stones.”

And so it came to pass. Israel of old would not hear, but clung to their idolatry—clung to their belief that they merited God’s favour, that He owed them His mercy, and that He needed them. So they were cast off. But God replaced them, making former stones into sons of Israel—and in this instance, the stones were the Gentiles who were adopted into God’s family and made descendants of Abraham, heirs of his promises.

So we read Paul’s letter to the Gentiles who were now in the Ephesian congregation: “Therefore remember that formerly, you, the Gentiles in the flesh . . . . that you were at that time separate from Christ, excluded from the Commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world. But . . . you who were afar off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.” (Ephesians 2:11—13)

Thus, God’s grace is indeed free. He chooses to bestow it on whom He chooses. Nevertheless, God has appointed means (methods, ways, circumstances, and institutions) by which His grace comes to people. If we are to receive God’s grace, we are directed to look to the rock from which we were hewn. We are directed to look to the means which God has established. Grace is found where God has appointed it to be.

God’s grace is sovereign and free. God also sovereignly has appointed the means by which His grace flows to men. Faith responds by submitting to His appointment, taking up the means of grace that God has appointed, looking to God, and expecting His grace to flow in and through the means, even as He has promised.

This means that the means of grace which He has appointed are holy and sacred—because through these means God comes to us, and we are drawn into His very presence.