As Americans, we proudly flaunt our right to free speech. It is enshrined in the First Amendment to the Constitution, and anytime we are challenged on just about anything we say, we will appeal to this God-given right. Although freedom of speech primarily focuses on the right to political speech, keeping the powers that be in check, and ensuring a healthy Republic, the First Amendment has been used to protect the vilest expressions in our country. Our birthright is to be able to say what we want, when we want, and to whomever we want. Furthermore, there should be no repercussions.
However, with freedom comes responsibility. You are free to drive a car. You are not free to drive a car into a crowd to maim or kill anyone. You are free to own a firearm (currently). You are not free to use it indiscriminately on others. You are free to speak. You are not free to scream “fire!” in a crowded venue when there is no fire because it can cause people to injure themselves or others. Your freedom of speech comes with responsibilities and, therefore, consequences.
We need to begin moving our liturgical efforts into the realm of hospitality. What I mean by this may appear obvious, but it isn’t very easy on a large scale. Some congregations may want to move into that arena but are paralyzed by self-inflicted wounds. They are more interested in showing their distinctiveness than proving their distinctives through tangible actions.
We use a saying in our inquirer’s class that goes something like this: “We need to bathe our weirdness with a deep sense of commonness.” Internally and behind the scenes, we don’t view ourselves as weird, but we are quite aware that the perception exists in a thoroughly de-liturgized culture.
This came across in an observation from a mother who raised her daughter in a Reformed context and saw her daughter go into a different tradition altogether. Now, mind you, the daughter was not antagonistic towards Reformed Theology, but she found the practices of this broadly evangelical environment more friendly and inviting. For the record, I am the last person to give much credence to an impressionable young adult. Still, I do want to take the opportunity to offer some general thoughts on the art of commonness and why black coffee Calvinists like myself think our churches need more than mere liturgism.
The first observation is that our Reformational theology/liturgy should be inviting. However worship is communicated–paraments or stripped tables–it must carry on the gravitas of joy from beginning to end. We live in a culture that craves the normalcy of joy. If we invite younger generations to taste and see Geneva’s God, we must also ensure that we don’t portray Geneva as some ogre attempting to tyrannize conscience. Geneva needs to show up with smiles and greetings, not five points of inquiry.
The second note is that the sweetness of worship ought to give folks a sense of the holy. We need liturgical worship that brings people to see the sovereignty of God resting in every element of worship in every line and every response.
Once, a visitor told one of our congregants that even though the liturgy was foreign to her, it was incredibly joyful. But even if the impression is oppositional–and it has happened–we should still communicate a culture where the holy is a common ritual of the people. You cannot control reactions, but you can manage interactions. You can control a sweet disposition towards a visitor. You can sit next to them when they walk in alone and guide them through the order of worship.
Third, and finally, if the liturgy is a living liturgy–contrary to modernistic ritualization experiences in mainline churches with alternating “Mother God” lines–then that liturgy must breathe life into the home. It needs to be perpetuated with food and drink for those strangers who visit. If they are not invited to see your lived-out liturgy, it is unlikely they will find pleasure in your acted-out liturgy on Sunday mornings. It will continue to be strange and foreign rather than warm and inviting.
Our liturgical efforts must move into hospitable efforts. In fact, liturgy necessarily moves into homes. Ultimately, we may still appear strange, and our songs may still give a Victorian vibe, but at the very least, we will have given visitors a sense of the holy and an invitation to joy.
Our Reformed churches should contemplate that model in our day.
We find various exhortations to faithfully continue in the preaching of the Word throughout the Scriptures. Paul commands Timothy in 2 Timothy 4:1–2: “I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.” This is related to the command of Christ Himself in Mark 16:15–16: “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.” Paul describes his and his colleagues work of preaching in 1 Corinthians 1:22–23 “For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles…” The Apostle Peter writes to the church in Asia Minor in 1 Peter 1:23–25 “… since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for ‘All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.’ And this word is the good news that was preached to you.”
So we see three basic principles for preaching in the Scriptures: (1) Preach the Word; (2) Preach the gospel; (3) Preach Christ.
The necessity of preaching is a bit easier to establish in North American Christianity than the necessity of the sacraments. Especially among Protestants that have kept the tradition of “the sermon.” Even when it is done poorly in megachurches and the pastor doesn’t really have a “sermon” there is still some sort of “talk”. What I do want to establish within Protestantism again is the authority of the preaching of the holy gospel.
The challenge then is more to establish the necessity of pure preaching. Another challenge is dealing with movements that focus on one command over the other. One group might focus on “preaching the Word.” Another might focus on “preaching the gospel.” Another might focus on “preaching Christ.” Well, why can’t we do all three? That is part of the problem of doing good theology in 2021. Rather than wrestling with the commands of Scripture within the context of the commands of Scripture, we tend to pit the various commands of Christ against one another. As a result, the church struggles to grow in maturity.
Establishing some basics:
There are a lot of discussions about how to preach the Bible to the church. I’ll introduce you to two terms here for now. Lectio continua is when a pastor takes a book of the Bible and goes through it verse by verse or section by section and tries to cover it all. Topical is when a pastor goes through Scripture by taking different texts, or will preach a series on marriage for example, and then finds all the references to marriage in Scripture. Both can be done well or poorly. I do prefer “lectio continua” for the reason that it forces you to deal with tough passages and it allows the text to set the agenda.
In II Timothy 3:10-17, Paul sets out two basic aspects to the function of the Scriptures. (1) The Scriptures led Timothy and should lead others to find salvation in Christ (II Tim. 3:15). (2) The Scriptures teach you how to live in that salvation, they are profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness (II Tim. 3:16).
So here’s how it works. When you preach the Word, the Holy Scriptures, Jesus says that they will point to Him (Jn. 5:39). He is the gospel or at least the gospel is made known in Him (Mark. 1:1). So if you are preaching the Word rightly, then you are preaching of Christ and the gospel (Lk. 24:27). To quote Q&A 19 of the Heidelberg Catechism: the gospel was already revealed in Paradise. These commands are not in opposition. They come together in a holy unity of purpose.
The gospel was already revealed in Paradise
Building on the Basics:
Every text in Scripture has various teachings that arise from the text and can be taught on within the boundaries of the rule of Scripture. The rule of Scripture is simply – Scripture interprets Scripture, the simpler texts interpret the hard texts. After all our understanding that we are governed by Scripture alone does not mean that we are governed by one passage taken out of context at the expense of all of Scripture. The various Reformed traditions explain this principle of the rule of Scripture in various ways.
You will find in the Westminster Confession of Faith (1.6):
“The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture”
Westminster Confession of Faith, 1.6
I really appreciated a line that I saw recently in the Anglican 39 articles:
“However, it is not lawful for the church to order anything contrary to God’s written Word. Nor may it expound one passage of Scripture so that it contradicts another passage. So, although the church is a witness and guardian to Holy Scripture, it must not decree anything contrary to Scripture, nor is it to enforce belief in anything additional to Scripture as essential to salvation.”
39 Articles, Article 6
There are various teaching that can be deduced and developed from within the pages of holy Scripture. One passage of Scripture should never be expounded in a way that it is in contradiction with another passage of Scripture. Thus we find various teachings across the Bible. The sovereignty of God. The sinfulness of man. The need for a Savior. Covenant. Kingdom. Church. Sacraments. Authority. Pastors should preach on every one of these teachings that arise from the text and others and still preach Christ. It matters how Christ is preached, that we do not preach a figment of our own imagination, but it must be done nevertheless.
This brings me to reflections on typology. Typology clearly arises from a a proper use of the grammatical-historical method. The grammatical-historical method is simply an analysis of the grammar and the context of the text. It seeks reads the text for what it is: understanding authorial intent. I believe that one cannot use this method and not arrive at various typological readings of Scripture. In the modern day we incline towards a literalistic hermeneutic (which is different from a proper use of the grammatical-historical method) which often limits the one who is opening the Scripture from making the gospel and Jesus Christ clear from all of Scripture.
That being said, I should warn that if typology is done wrong, it can also make the Scriptures confusing. Typology should have rules and controls surrounding it so that the preacher can properly demonstrate to the listener how salvation is found in Christ and how to live the Christian life. One of those rules is this – if your typologizing leads you to contradict a clear teaching of Scripture, or if it leads you to some teaching that is far afield of historic Christian doctrine, you are doing it wrong. Go back and do your homework again.
What is typology? Before I move to typology within the Christian traditions, I will deduce it directly from Scripture. For example, in I Corinthians 10:1-6, the Apostle Paul wades into the deep waters of typology. He does it elsewhere, but particularly here.
In the first five vss of this passage Paul waxes eloquent, drawing lines between the Red Sea and baptism, between Moses and Christ, between the manna in the wilderness and the water from the rock and the spiritual food and drink in the New Testament. All those who drank from the Rock, drank of Christ. He is typologizing here as he does in vs. 6. In vs. 6, he continues with this sentence: “Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did.” The word for “example” is “τύπος” which has a semantic range of “a figure, type, an example, a pattern.”
It is used elsewhere in the New Testament, about 18x, in various contexts. But for our intents and purposes there is an important one in Romans 5:14: “Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come.” There, Paul uses the same word “τύπος” or “type”.
The ancient theologians in the early church had four ways of approaching Scripture – literal, allegorical, tropological and anagogical. The ‘literal sense” is what many refer to when the speak about the grammatical historical method, even when the use of this method reveals the use of many types. The literal sense especially focuses on historical events. The ‘allegorical sense’ in my understanding is very closely associated with the discerning of ‘types’ within Scripture. Some will even speak of a ‘typological sense’ as opposed to the ‘allegorical sense.’ The ‘tropological sense’ simply refers to the ‘moral sense’ of a passage. Combined with the ‘literal sense’ this is another focus of the modern use of the grammatical historical method. Finally, the ‘anagogical sense’ deals with future events, prophecies, the hope of the Christian in the resurrection of the dead. All of these can be found within Scripture, some passages may have multiple senses.
This is not abandoned in the Reformation in that you will find a lot of “typologizing” among the Reformers along with them dealing with the literal sense. What the Reformers did, and rightfully so, was to back away from the fanciful and speculative interpretations of the Roman Catholic Church of that time, and to focus more on the clarity of the Scriptures. Nevertheless, as we see in Presbyterian and Anglican confessions, they still continued to deduce from Scripture as well as to interpret Scripture with Scripture.
What is the Gospel?
In recent years, one of the fruits of modern day evangelicalism, is debates over what the gospel is. While certain movements in evangelicalism have given us the blessing of an increased emphasis on expository preaching, at times, the waters have been muddied by a reductionistic understanding of the gospel.
Some people will talk about a tighter definition of the gospel and a broader definition of the gospel. Is the gospel justification by grace through faith in Jesus Christ? Is it penal substitutionary atonement? Is it the simple message of repentance from sin and faith in Jesus Christ? What is it? Definitely, the denial of each of these, is a denial of the gospel.
But what is the gospel?
Well, as indicated above, Mark 1:1 indicates that the gospel is the good news, and that it is “of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” In Mark 15:15, Jesus goes around preaching this message: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”
It is pretty clear from Mark 1 that in order to believe the good news, then we must know who Jesus Christ is. According to Jesus in John 5:39, when his people search the Scriptures trying to find eternal life, the whole point of everything is for you and me to find Jesus Christ, because all the Scriptures speak of Him.
Well, the events of the gospels teach us something about who Jesus is. His incarnation teaches us that Jesus is both man and God. His death on the cross teaches us that He died for our sins. His resurrection teaches us that He is victorious over the grave. His ascension into heaven teaches us that He is king. It teaches us a lot more than that as you will find in the various teachings of the Apostles and in the Gospels, but these basic truths are good news. A denial of any of the historical events of His life is a denial of the gospel (as you will find in the Athanasian Creed and implied in the Apostle’s Creed).
Adam was a type of Christ in the sense that he revealed the need for Christ. God’s plan for redemption through Christ, the second Adam, was determined because of the fall of the first Adam in the Garden of Eden. Similarly we see many more pictures point to Christ. Every prophet, priest and king (judge) in the Old Testament pointed to the need for Christ.
I will draw the lines in the Scriptures for those who question this. (1) We learn that Jesus Christ is a prophet. God promised this too Moses in Deuteronomy 18:15 “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers—it is to him you shall listen—” This passage is referred to by the Apostles to speak of Jesus in both Acts 3:22 and 7:37. (2) We learn that Jesus Christ is a King. God promised David in 2 Samuel 7:16: “And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’” We see the fulfillment of this promise in Luke 1:32–33 when the angel Gabriel speaks to Mary: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Notice how the throne is given to Jesus in part on the basis of His divinity. (3) We learn that Jesus Christ is a priest. Finally, the Book of Hebrews is chock full of fulfillment, where it speaks of Christ our final High Priest. For example, you will find this in Hebrews 9:11–12: “But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.” The Scriptures are clear: Christ is our final prophet, king and priest.
It is common in the modern day to reduce the message of the gospel to the penal substitutionary atonement or justification by faith. These are definitely key components of the gospel and crucial to the gospel message. To deny such is to deny the gospel. It is a denial of the gospel because it on wants to accept a part of Christ – removing the reality of Christ in His High priestly office from the gospel. But what we focus on can sometimes limit the scope of the gospel. While we don’t want to reject the priestly office of Christ, we also don’t want to reject His prophetic office or kingly office. If want to promote all of Christ then we will promote what the Scriptures promote: that Christ is our final Prophet, Priest, and King.
It is clear from Paul’s words to the young Christians in Corinth that one of the most fundamental expressions of the Christian faith is that Jesus is Lord (I Cor. 12:2, 16:22, Rom. 10:9). The declaration of the Kingship of Christ over the whole world throughout the Book of Acts is what leads to conflict between the kingdoms of men and the kingdom of Christ, even if at times the opponents of the gospel somewhat misunderstand how the gospel takes shape and moves through this world. When the men of Thessalonika panic at the Apostles speaking of another King, they were not wrong. And His rule is very good news. His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matt. 11:30).
On the basis of what I have laid out from Scripture, I also want to remind the modern church that Jesus is indeed King, and that is very good news. I appreciate the way that the Heidelberg Catechism frames this question where it speaks of Christ also as king in Q&A 31: “and our eternal king who governs us by his Word and Spirit, and who guards us and keeps us in the deliverance he has won for us.” It is an amazing message of good news for rebel sinners to hear that the victory of Jesus Christ on the cross and His current reign in heaven means that not only is death defeated, but so also sin no longer has power. We find this in 1 Corinthians 15:56–57: “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Jesus is good news. It is good news that the Son of God took on human flesh. It is good news that He lived and suffered and died and rose again and ascended into heaven and is currently reigning over all things and will come again to judge the living and the dead. It is good news that as our final priest He makes atonement and justifies us by faith in Him, that as our final prophet He accurately teaches us the whole counsel of God and calls all men to faith in Him, that as our final king, He rules us with His Word and Spirit, and protects us in the deliverance He has won. It is good news that our sins are forgiven. It is good news that because of the atonement, because of justification, that sin longer has dominion, that even though we fight, yet we can begin to see the fruit of good works in our hearts, minds, and lives. The Kingship of Christ is very good news.
The Entire Counsel of God:
In the context of what I have written above, it is important that in reflecting upon the teaching of the Apostles in the New Testament that we reflect on the words of the Apostle Paul to the elders in Ephesus in Acts 20:26–27: “Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all, for I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.” Here Paul repeats what he said also in Acts 20:20: “…how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house,” What Paul says here should be discerned in the context of the words of the Lord to His prophet in Jeremiah 26:2 “Thus says the LORD: Stand in the court of the LORD’s house, and speak to all the cities of Judah that come to worship in the house of the LORD all the words that I command you to speak to them; do not hold back a word.” This is how one seeks to rightly divide the word of truth as we find Paul’s instruction to Timothy in 2 Timothy 2:14–15 “Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.”
The Scriptures are full of types, of histories and genealogies and poetry and prophecy. It is full of warnings and rebukes and comfort and consolation and lament and joy and celebration and hope. The Lord wants all of that to be given to His people through the preaching of the Word, through the preaching of the holy gospel. But our Lord also wants that to be done rightly. He doesn’t want pastors to be quarreling over words. He wants His entire counsel to be communicated clearly so that the nations might be taught to observe all things that He has commanded us, not just some of the things that He has commanded us (Matthew 28:20).
Conclusion:
The preaching of the Word of God is central to how the church is formed and how it grows in maturity or sanctification (holiness). It was in the Theses of Berne in 1528, that some of the initial reformers wrote these words in the very first thesis: “The holy Christian Church, whose only Head is Christ, is born of the Word of God, and abides in the same, and listens not to the voice of a stranger.” This statement derives its truth, not because it was written by the Reformers, but because the Scriptures declare its truth. The Church, as we find in the words of the Apostle Peter in I Peter 1, experiences rebirth through the living Word of God.
“The holy Christian Church, whose only Head is Christ, is born of the Word of God, and abides in the same, and listens not to the voice of a stranger.”
Thesis #I of Berne
It is a great and awesome task to bring that Word of God to God’s people. It is attributed to John Knox that he once said: “I have never once feared the devil, but I tremble every time I enter the pulpit.” It is fitting to say then that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of the true preaching of the gospel.
It is absolutely necessary then that the true gospel be preached, that the Word of God be preached, that Christ be preached all the way from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22. God wants His word to be rightly taught and for it to be taught in its entirety: from the prophetic books to the wisdom literature to the gospels. All of it speaks of Christ. So let’s get to work and call out to God that He would bless our every effort to hallow His Name and increase His kingdom, that all our sermons and teaching would be full of the power of His Holy Spirit. “To the teaching and to the testimony! If they will not speak according to this word, it is because they have no dawn.” (Isaiah 8:20)
Note. This is part of a series of ongoing posts on ecclesiology. You can find the first two here and here. All these posts are up with other content on Nathan Zekveld’s Substack website.
I want to acknowledge that Alistair Begg’s ministry has been an illuminating journey into exegetical faithfulness. Five decades of opening your Bible and examining it verse-by-verse is the ol’ fashioned evangelical method, which has birthed much fruitfulness in this country and produced remarkable teachers. It worked for Martin Lloyd-Jones, John MacArthur, and many who followed in their train.
While I have not followed Begg’s ministry in over a decade, I know his fervor and sense of the holy from the testimony of many respected leaders in the Reformed world. So, it’s with enormous sadness that I have watched a man who should be ending his pastoral career at the height of ethical orthodoxy in his preaching and teaching utter unconscionable rubbish.
For those tuning in, here is the lengthy section from his interview with Bob Lepine:
BEGG: And in very specific areas this comes across. I mean, you and I know that we field questions all the time that go along the lines of “My grandson is about to be married to a transgender person, and I don’t know what to do about this, and I’m calling to ask you to tell me what to do”—which is a huge responsibility.
And in a conversation like that just a few days ago—and people may not like this answer—but I asked the grandmother, “Does your grandson understand your belief in Jesus?”
“Yes.”
“Does your grandson understand that your belief in Jesus makes it such that you can’t countenance in any affirming way the choices that he has made in life?”
“Yes.”
I said, “Well then, okay. As long as he knows that, then I suggest that you do go to the ceremony. And I suggest that you buy them a gift.”
“Oh,” she said, “what?” She was caught off guard.
I said, “Well, here’s the thing: your love for them may catch them off guard, but your absence will simply reinforce the fact that they said, ‘These people are what I always thought: judgmental, critical, unprepared to countenance anything.’”
—–
I have waited patiently to give honor to whom honor is due, but nothing has clarified his position. I often give these elderly statesmen honor (I Tim. 5:1). I want to believe Begg has not kept up with the times or failed to see the negative world and its ramifications. Or perhaps Begg stays away from these political discourses, and the moment he spoke into it, he butchered the pastoral applications. I am hoping for an ethical epiphany.
Christ is the grace of God come into this world, God made Man, given to us, offered for us, reigning over us. Reformed Christians are accustomed to emphasizing the “means of grace,” especially “the word, the sacraments, and prayer.” These are not the only means by which God imparts grace to us and strengthens us. He also does so by Christian fellowship, communion with the Spirit in meditation and solitude, by acts of service, through fighting battles against the world, the Devil, and our own flesh in sanctification. But all of these channels of grace are instruments whereby Christ is communicated to us. It is Christ proclaimed, Christ praised, Christ prayed, Christ obeyed, and Christ enjoyed that strengthens us in the life we have with God, by the Spirit, in Christ.
The means of grace are not pouring a mystical substance into us; they are communicating Christ to us. He comes to us in gospel proclamation and in the forms of water, bread, and wine. We meet him in the prayers and songs of the Church. We see him in the faces and lives of our brothers and sisters who are members of his Body on this earth. We feel his strength as we grow weak in resisting temptation, and even when we do not feel his strong arms, we know by faith that he is there to encourage and support us.
When we talk about the means of grace, we are talking about the ways in which the Holy Spirit brings Christ to us and applies the benefits of his kingly, priestly, and prophetic work. Grace is the milkshake, and the means of grace is the straw by which that sweet goodness gets into our mouth. But grace is not a substance like a milkshake; it is a person, the Lord Jesus Christ. We are accounted righteous in him. We are becoming righteous through him. We will be fully vindicated in righteousness because of him. “He must increase, and I must decrease.” That is what the means of grace are accomplishing in our lives. They are causing there to be more of Jesus in my life and less of Joel.
There is a mystery to the means of grace that we ought to embrace and celebrate. Exactly how does preaching awaken a sinner dead in trespasses and bring him to new life by the Spirit in Jesus Christ? How does baptism cleanse the penitent believer and seal his regeneration received by sovereign grace alone? How does the Eucharist strengthen our faith and nourish our souls in grace, especially when it is gluten-free communion bread? How can a service of covenant renewal worship make any real difference at all in my relationship with God?
We are not able to explain these things, and if we think we can, it just proves how ignorant we are. Knowledge puffs up, but love edifies (1Cor. 8:1). Some Christians think of growth in grace strictly in intellectual and rationalistic terms. The “means of grace” sounds too Catholic to their ears, too superstitious, and so they simply approach the Christian life as a matter of learning and applying information. Others acknowledge the category of the means of grace, but they are inconsistent in how they think about it. “The word, the sacraments, and prayer,” yes, but mainly the word, because we know that the Supper is expendable but the Sermon never is. We may inadvertently elevate the preacher and his wisdom above the ministry of our High Priest and his memorial of grace. The point is not to pit the Table against the Pulpit or debate the relative potency of the Supper versus the Sermon. The point is that both the Sermon and the Supper are a ministry of Christ. He is proclaimed both in the preaching and in the elements. He is eaten by faith with both our ears and also our mouths.
The means of grace are the ways in which Christ comes to us, enters into us, continues to fill us, and finally saves us. The word and water, bread and wine, fellowship and feasting, praises and prayers, celebration and suffering, all become the Spirit’s instruments for proclaiming, applying, and exalting Christ in our hearts. Christ in you is the “hope of glory” (Col. 1:27), and the means of grace are how the Spirit brings our Savior to fill us with hope and, finally, with his glory.
Last month The North American Anglican, an online journal, published an article by Peter D. Robinson, titled, Our German Cousins: Liturgy in the Evangelical and Reformed Church. If you’ve never heard of the Evangelical and Reformed Church, that’s because it no longer exists. Its life as a denomination was exceedingly brief, lasting from 1934 to 1957—just short of 25 years. That’s not a very long time considering that some denominations have existed for centuries. The Anglican communion itself may be a 19th-century invention, but the Church of England has been around for nearly 500 years, with some arguing that it’s much older, going back to Augustine of Canterbury, the 6th-century Apostle to the English.
So what was this Evangelical and Reformed Church? It was created by the merger of two predecessor bodies, the (German) Reformed Church in the United States (RCUS) and the (German) Evangelical Synod of North America. The German Reformed were the descendants of Reformed Christians who had immigrated from German-speaking Europe, especially Switzerland and the Palatinate, the latter of which was once ruled by Elector Frederick III “the Pious” (1515-1576), who commissioned the Heidelberg Catechism in 1563. The German Reformed began in 1725 and were initially under the care of Classis Amsterdam of the Dutch Reformed Church until 1793. During the late 19th century, efforts to unite with the (Dutch) Reformed Church in America were unsuccessful.
In the middle of that century, a movement was launched within the RCUS at its seminary in Mercersburg, Pennsylvania, by John Williamson Nevin (1803-1886), who was later joined from Berlin by the renowned Swiss-born church historian Philip Schaff (1819-1893). Some scholars have compared the Mercersburg Movement to the Oxford Movement within the Church of England in that it represented an effort to recover the catholic roots of the Reformed Church against the popular revivalism of the Second Great Awakening, which was affecting—negatively in Nevin’s estimation—many Protestant denominations, especially as their members moved west along the advancing frontier. The Mercersburg Movement led to liturgical renewal in the RCUS, although it remained controversial, even into the 20th century, with many members believing that it imported a pronounced Hegelian emphasis on historical progress, blunting its confessional integrity and making it too willing to unite with other denominations lacking its own Reformed identity. This, of course, is exactly what happened.
The German Evangelical Synod was brought to the United States largely by immigrants from the Prussian territories following the end of the Napoleonic Wars. In 1817 King Friedrich Wilhelm III (1770-1840) of Prussia engineered a union of the Lutheran and Reformed churches in his realms, and the result was a nonconfessional amalgamation that incorporated elements of both traditions while mandating neither. Immigrants from these lands established the German Evangelical Synod of North America, which dropped German from its name in 1927. The denomination’s most famous members were undoubtedly Reinhold (1892-1971) and Richard Niebuhr (1894-1962), both academic theologians who strongly influenced the mid-century mainline Protestant consensus in the US, and, in Reinhold’s case, even American foreign policy.
In 1934 the two denominations united, creating the Evangelical and Reformed Church, while the Eureka Classis in the Dakotas remained outside and retained the RCUS label. Thirteen years later, as recounted in Robinson’s article linked above, the combined denomination published The Book of Worship. In many respects, this collection is similar to the Book of Common Prayer (BCP), containing orders for “Morning Worship, an Alternative Order of Worship, an Evening Service, The Preparatory Service, The Order of Holy Communion, and the Alternative Order of Holy Communion.” This material reflects both its Lutheran and Reformed heritage. Like the BCP it even prescribes a lectionary following the church calendar with epistle and gospel readings for each Sunday. Notably absent is a complete Psalter, although there is a list of “Proper Psalms for Seasons and Days.” Perusing this collection makes us appreciate the effort that went into it, with its evident concern to maintain continuity with the larger catholic liturgical tradition of the western church. One imagines that the brothers Niebuhr enjoyed meaningful worship Sunday after Sunday. Perhaps it would take a more in depth exploration of The Book of Worship to see whether there is a hint of what was to come, but from my own admittedly cursory examination, it looks pretty solid.
So what happened after this collection was adopted? The E&R Church lasted only another decade, and then it merged with the Congregational and Christian Churches to form the United Church of Christ (UCC), easily the most liberal Protestant denomination in the US. Bringing together the remnants of the German Reformed, German Evangelicals, descendants of the New England Puritans, and heirs of the 19th-century Restorationist movement, the UCC has steadily declined in both membership and influence. A solid liturgical document appears to have done little to prevent the combined denomination from losing its confessional integrity.
As a political scientist, I cannot resist making a comparison with nations and their constitutions. Reading a country’s constitutional document may or may not tell us how its political system works in the real world. The 1993 Constitution of the Russian Federation reads very well indeed, claiming as it does to set up a democratic political system similar in many respects to that of Fifth-Republic France, with a president, a bicameral parliament, a government led by a prime minister, and a court system, along with a federal division of powers. However, a reasonably well-drafted document has not prevented a return to authoritarianism under Vladimir Putin. Why not? Largely because the architects of a constitution cannot induce in the people themselves a love and respect for the rule of law where it is absent. After centuries of failed attempts to adopt a comprehensive legal code under the tsars, followed by 70 years of arbitrary governance by the Communist Party, the rule of law has a shallow basis in the Russian political culture, despite the existence of dissidents seeking to nurture it. But no written statute can legislate respect for the rule of law.
Americans lionize their nation’s 18th-century founders, whom many believe to have created a remarkably balanced and virtually fail-safe constitution. But even the architects of the Constitution recognized that it could not work if the people would not respect it. As John Adams famously put it,
we have no government armed with power capable of contending with human passions unbridled by morality and religion. Avarice, ambition, revenge, or gallantry, would break the strongest cords of our Constitution as a whale goes through a net. Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.
Providentially, Americans had had a century and a half of experience with representative government in their colonial assemblies, and they could readily adapt these traditions to a wider scale. In other words, despite the motto on the dollar bill, the founders were by no means creating a novus ordo seclorum, or a “new order of the ages.” They were establishing political institutions modelled on existing ones at the state level. That the American political system has been so successful for nearly two and a half centuries is testimony to an underlying respect for the rule of law inherited from English and colonial usage. If Americans lose their allegiance to the rule of law—if they begin to question, not just the wisdom of particular political leaders, but the institutions themselves—if they subordinate their respect for the Constitution to their partisan allegiances or to their loyalty to a demagogic leader promising what they want to hear, then a system once admired for its durability, will inevitably falter.
Returning to the life of the gathered church community, a denomination may boast a solid set of confessional standards and a liturgy embodying the historic faith and placing on the lips of worshippers the Psalms, hymns, and prayers of their forebears. Yet where works righteousness has replaced the unmerited grace of God—where faith in the saving power of Jesus Christ has given way to the regnant ideological visions of the day—the creeds, confessions, and liturgies become dead letters, testimonies to an earlier faithful generation whose descendants have, as it were, moved on to other things.
None of this should be taken as an argument for casting aside the creeds, confessions, and liturgies of our forebears in the faith. Quite the contrary. If ordinary Christians are giving lip service to a faith that no longer lives in their hearts, the retention of such standards may not keep them in the fold. Nevertheless, they are a necessary precondition for renewed catechetical efforts to impress upon children and youth the need to set their hopes, not in what the world has to offer, but in Jesus Christ himself. In so far as our confessional and liturgical documents testify to this hope, we should open ourselves to being taught by them and commit ourselves to living accordingly.
On a holy day long ago, Ezra the scribe addressed God’s people and said: “This day is holy to the LORD your God; do not mourn nor weep. Go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and send portions to those for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not sorrow, for the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Neh. 8:9-10). I often refer to this passage as a reminder of why churches ought to have donuts after worship and not dill pickles. But there is another part to it, the part that more often gets cross-stitched on pillows and doilies. The joy of Yahweh is your strength. What does that mean? There is a sermon there, or ten, but think about it briefly.
This is a passage I have failed to live up to for most of my life. The longer I read G. K. Chesterton, the more convicted I become over how much I have lacked the joviality of one who knows Jesus. Not that I or anyone else have anything at all to learn from a filthy papist like Chesterton. His cheerfulness is simply self deception and a demonic spirit, as I’ve been assured. If he really knew Christ, he would be sour, depressed, and slightly self righteous like every self-respecting Christian ought to be. But I digress.
I wonder if we realize just how powerful this transcendent, spiritual joy really is and can be? I’m not referring to the sappy and superficial masquerade we sometimes play on Sundays. “How are you doing today?” “I’m blessed,” by which, too often, we may mean, “I’m anxious, angry, and in a foul mood, but I don’t want to talk about it, and I need to sound spiritual so you’ll simply go away.” Other times we are all too free to tell anyone and everyone exactly how we feel, at length, and in great detail, because among our many admirable traits none stands out so greatly as our honesty and transparency.
How is joy a strength? An exegesis of the passage can tell us this and more. Suffice it to say here that the joy of the Lord encompasses joy from God, God’s joy in us, our joy concerning him. This is more than the “joy, joy, joy, joy” I have buried “down in my heart.” Where? Down in my heart, of course, even deeper than my affection for the Book of Church Order and Robert’s Rules. This is the joy that grace and truth bring to us, a joy that transcends sorrow and adversity, a joy that triumphs, the joy that enables us to smile in the face of danger, laugh in the face of opposition, and sing in the hour of death.
When they bury you, what will your friends and family remember about you? I hope all three of the people that attend my funeral remember something more than that he dipped Oreos in coffee and dressed weird. None of them will remember the answers I gave in my theology exam on the floor of Presbytery. They will not recall whether I was an infralapsarian or supralapsarian. Will my children remember the joy I had in Jesus, or will they say that Dad sincerely loved Jesus in spite of how moody, depressed, and melancholy he sometimes was?
If the joy of Yahweh is our strength, is it possible that some of us are 98-lb. weaklings and that the Devil is kicking sand in our faces most days?
What does Christianity look like? I do not mean what doctrinal convictions does orthodox Christianity affirm. I mean what does the Christian faith look like in a Christian. Does it only look like moral uprightness, daily prayer, consistent church-going, temperamental restraint? It does not look like less than any of these, but if that is what Christianity looks like, then it looks a lot like orthodox Judaism, devout Mohammedanism, and Mormonism. But we have a risen Savior.
It is astonishing how many of us seem to disconnect our Christian faith from our emotional countenance. “But the joy of the Lord is not strictly emotional!” some will object. Indeed, that is true. But is it true, therefore, that the joy of Yahweh will have no affect on our emotions and countenance? It seems counter-intuitive that we would be able to identify those whose sins are forgiven, who are filled with the Holy Spirit, and who are bound for everlasting glory by watching for those who look as if they were weaned on a dill pickle.
In this new year, whether you make formal resolutions or not, let us resolve to let the joy of Yahweh more visibly and tangibly strengthen us. Let our children and grandchildren see the earthy yet otherworldly happiness we have in our Savior. Let our brethren see the cheerfulness of knowing the serpent’s servants are being crushed under our feet and that the Dragon’s mortal wound will finally overcome him on the last day. Let us sing as those who believe Christ is our greatest treasure. Every Lord’s Day, eat the fat and drink the sweet (or bitter, if you like your coffee black). Sunday is holy to the Lord. This world has plenty of evil over which we must sorrow, but the joy of the Lord is our strength.
Merry 8th Day of Christmas and a Happy New Year! Here are the five resolutions I encourage you to take seriously as members of local churches in 2024:
a) Resolved to attend corporate worship every Lord’s Day unless providentially hindered. We live in a society that treasures entertainment and personal hobbies on Sundays, but God has made his commandments clear. If you compromise on this, you are placing your offspring at the altar of preference and convenience, and the fruit will be disastrous.
b) Resolved to be engaged in the life of fellowship. This is, of course, an extension of the first, though it does not carry the weight of the first. The solution to knowing your community is to be around it beyond Sunday morning. There are activities where it is good and right to attend and there are seasons where attending such activities/events are not profitable nor necessary. Wisdom needs to be considered often. For the life of any Christian body to grow in love and holiness, you will have to work extra hard to maintain a good community life, which demands a commitment, but the rewards are beyond measure.
c) Resolved to grow in the knowledge of God and His Word. One of the great threats of our day is apathy: Christians who sit week after week without increasing their knowledge of the Bible or who are content with the bit of knowledge they have.
Dear friend, it is a sin to not desire to know more about God. To be indifferent as a Christian contradicts the Lordship of Jesus. Jesus demands your souls and bodies. Don’t give him your crumbs.
d) Resolved to be hospitable Christians. Your home—however big or small—is meant to be a garden that provides refreshment to those who enter. I am exhorting you to take your calendars and mark one day a month when you plan to have folks over.
Some families are more gifted in this area ( a gift which has been built with years of practice) and will have people over for meals every week—and you are free to go above and beyond—but I am encouraging 12 days a year where you will intentionally invite some (one) over your home for a meal or dessert or some kind of fellowship. If you need help implementing any of these things, send me a note, and I’d be pleased to offer some suggestions. As one who has been practicing hospitality since the beginning of our marriage, I have learned much from these years and am eager to share any lessons.
e) Resolved to live out the Church Calendar in 2024. Depending on your context in a local church, you can still practice many of these things as families and on your own. If your congregation’s leadership is adamantly opposed to the calendar, I would refrain or, at the very least, talk with them. But in most cases, local churches are indifferent to private practices. Remember that everyone has a calendar. We don’t allow the government or other institutions to determine our calendar. The Church has its own. It takes some practice and creativity to use the calendar wisely. For example, most evangelicals in our culture think that there is only one day of Christmas on the 25th. Anything after the 25th becomes a preparation for the new year. But the Church has set aside 12 days to celebrate Christmas.
So, there are things we can do to make these seasons even more festive and meaningful. Ultimately, the church’s life is the only true life there is. Live it out faithfully this new year and commit your joys and sorrows to the Head of the Church, Jesus Christ.
God is an architect and builder. Creation is his house. One part of the house was finished from the beginning. God created his heavenly palace complete. It was a turn-key job. The earth, however, he gave to his son, Adam, as a project (Ps 115:16). God provided his son all the raw materials and the blueprint to complete his mission. Once the earthly house was finished, the breach between heaven and earth created on the second day of the creation week would be reconciled.
The original separation of heaven and earth was not caused by sin. The division was a design feature of the original creation, and the maturity of the earth was man’s mission before sin entered the world. When Adam sinned, the separation was deepened. From that time forward, the project to build a house in which God would be pleased to dwell, uniting his heavenly home to an earthly home, was crippled by sin.
There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’Abraham Kuyper
