Theology Archives - Page 54 of 66 - Kuyperian Commentary

On February 23, 2015 By Kuyperian In Theology Like

Jesus and the Sea: A Narratological Understanding of Evil and its Evaporation

Guest Post by John Howell

In ancient literature, the sea is at times an image used to depict chaos and evil. The ancients, in common with their predecessors, had a hard time justifying and understanding the dark that seemed to exist inappropriately in their world. The Sea was a powerful and mysterious thing, completely out of human control. The great armies of the most powerful rulers on earth were powerless and themselves at the mercy of the sea. It was thought that monsters lived there and great storms could come out of nowhere, seemingly under the command of the gods, and swallow the largest and best equipped of ships, or entire fleets. Every great people tells of their difficulties with the sea. From the mighty Egyptians of ancient times to our own Gulf Coast in recent years, it is known that the sea is powerful to destroy any who are too close or too comfortable. It is vast and even with modern technology and incredible amount of focus on it, the sea is still as much a mystery and out of human control as it was tens of thousands of years ago. Mankind is no match for the sea.

The Christian story is one full of this imagery. In the opening scene of Genesis there is nothing but the sea and the Spirit of God “moving over the waters” (Genesis 1:2). God’s power is displayed when he, with just a word, places the mighty sea within its boundaries therefore creating land. This is a reoccurring praise of God’s power and authority in Scripture as seen in Job 38:10, Proverbs 8:29 and Psalm 104:9. God is Lord of the sea. He alone has established its limits and he alone has authority over it.

The Exodus narrative acknowledges this with powerful and dramatic displays. The first plague in Egypt is one such example, Exodus 7. The mighty and life-giving Nile was the domain of Hapi, a favored god of the Egyptians. He was responsible for the waters flowing and bring the soil enriching silt every year. The annual flooding was known as the “arrival of Hapi”. He was, at a time in Egypt’s history known as the creator of all things. The Nile was turned to blood by the God of Israel as a direct overthrowing of Hapi from his place of authority. Even the god of the Nile, the loved and worshiped, Hapi, was not able to control the sea. This plague demonstrates that Yahweh alone is Lord. Indeed all the plagues of Exodus were direct challenges to and victories over the major deities of Egyptian culture.

The Red Sea would be a dead-end, resulting in death and misery, for any who found themselves between it and a vengeful and pursuing Egyptian army. The Israelites themselves saw their own death sentence as they stood before the waves of the sea, “they became very frightened” (Exodus 14:10), and they cried out to Moses, “Is it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness?” God was victorious over Hapi, he had demonstrated his authority over the Nile. What now of this enormous sea that expanded out before them? We know the story and indeed it is repeated and re-imagined all throughout the rest of Scripture. God has Moses raise his staff and the waters part before the people allowing them to cross unharmed. The Egyptians do not have the same experience, they are swallowed up by the deep as God brings the waters down upon them. It was believed by the Egyptians that Pharaoh was a god, yet he was not able to safely pass through, nor deliver his mighty army. He was no match for the sea, vs. 28.

There is a story about Jesus and the sea. His disciples are fishing and a storm breaks out over them suddenly. The storm was causing water to fill the boat and fear grips the disciples. They seem to be angry with Jesus who is sleeping, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Matthew 4:38) Jesus tells the storm to ““Hush, be still”. And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm.”, vs. 39. The disciples were afraid of the storm, and who could blame them? What is interesting is that they were more afraid once all was calm. For it is then they realized that they had with them in their boat one who could command and control the sea, “Who is this?”. But the story of Jesus and the sea does not end there.

Elsewhere in the New Testament the mission of Jesus is described as an Exodus. Paul teaches this idea in Ephesian, Romans, I Corinthians, Titus, his letters to Timothy and even in Philemon. The author of Hebrews as well conveys that Jesus is a better Moses, Hebrews 3. Jesus delivers all Peoples, not just those of Israel. The Gentiles were in need of exodus from the bondage of their idolatry, and the Jews were in need of liberation from their worship of the Law as that which could make them God’s possession. Paul argues this in his letter to the Romans, chapter 3. Jesus would do more than deliver from political oppression and slavery, he would make all the nations free from sin and death. If death itself were to be defeated, then so also would all the lesser evil powers of the world. If he were to defeat death, then what would follow would be the obedience of the nations, Romans 1:1-5.

Jesus himself would enter the sea. He played this out with his own baptism and his time in the wilderness. As Israel went through the sea and then spent forty years wandering, so Jesus went through the waters of his baptism and into temptation, Matthew 3. It is on the cross that Jesus faced the great sea, evil itself. All of its fury and terror, injustice, betrayal, misery and death would come against Jesus as a great wave, smashing and breaking him. It did not hold back, it did its worse. The broken and bloody body of a would be King, washed lifeless upon the shore as so many before him. It seemed as though the sea would always be a scourge to humanity and a chaos to insult and denounce God’s authority and justice.

In his Gospel, John tells the story of Jesus and his ministry in a series of sections. These sections are to be seen as “days” of a week to make a point that Jesus is the means through which a new creation is coming. God’s new age of salvation has finally appeared. According to John, Jesus is laid in the tomb, he rest on the Sabbath. The week is over, ending in the tragic death of the one who would be both a new Adam and the Creator of a new world. John 20 is one of the most exciting texts in all of literature, for here John reveals that though one week has ended, a new one has begun. On the “first day of the week”, vs.1, it is discovered that the body of Jesus is not in the tomb. When the disciples are told this they run to the empty grave site to be met by an Angel who tells them that Jesus has risen. Jesus later on appears before them. Every one of the Gospels tell of Jesus eating and feeding, teaching and praying, appearing to a few on the road or even to a group of over 500 at once, I Corinthians 15:6. The phrase in John 20, “the first day of the week”, is to point us forward. The new world has come. Each of the Gospel writers invites regardless of where (or when) one may be, to join them in the new age, a world that has come as a result of the apocalyptic event(s) known as the ministry, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. Jesus has come and since he has risen nothing has ever been the same. The world, as it was known before him, has ended.

This brings us back to the sea. In John’s Revelation he tells of a new heavens and a new earth. The prophet Isaiah also tells of this (Isaiah 65:17). Like Isaiah, John’s vision of the new world is of a world very different from the old. Isaiah says that there will be no more weeping or infant death. There will be long life for most people. A world of justice and plenty, without calamity or famine. All will be as God originally intended for his world. In accord with Isaiah, John simply says,

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea.” Revelation 21:1

No longer any sea. Other translations say, “the sea was no more”. When one observes how the image of the sea is used in the biblical narrative, what John is saying here is extraordinary. It has been demonstrated that in John 20 Jesus is the one through whom a new creation week has begun and that week has not ended. He is currently active in his mission, which is directly stated in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I am making all things new”! The New heavens and New earth are being created now as Jesus is reigning from the throne of God. This new creation will be a place where, upon its completion, there will be no sea, evil will be evaporated from God’s good creation once and for all. The sea with all its chaos, terror and monsters, the sea that drowned the Son, has itself been swallowed up in his victorious resurrection. It is being evaporated from the earth through the activity of Jesus as King.

The sea is no more. What does this mean for his Spirit filled people? They too have come through the waters of baptism and now find themselves in the wilderness of a broken world. The Gospel is about the justice and power of God through the reign of Christ over the nations (Romans 1:5, 16&17). How does the power and the justice of God, revealed within the Gospel, go forth and do its work? It works through his obedient people. The Church has been given the very presence of God. The Shekinah that led the former slaves of Egypt through their wilderness now inhabits the Israel of God as they are sent into theirs (see John 17:22). Since the victory of Jesus, evil and death have no authority here. Fear and lack of faith must be cast away, since the saints are set apart as ones sent to complete the work of the King. An evaporating and diminishing sea seems to convey that Christ is working through his people to subject all authorities and powers, both earthly and spiritual, to himself (see I Corinthians 15:24-28). When the sea rages and floods communities and even a society, the faithful are called and equipped to stem the tide. They are the ones who are called to stand between an oppressive authority and defenseless people. They are the ones who are called to feed the hungry and poor, clothing them with all they have. They are the ones who must stand and demonstrate the liberty and beauty of God’s Law as the standard for all human societies for the civil government, Church, family and the individual. There exists a power and a liberation in the truth of the Gospel of King Jesus, the good news that his Kingdom has come. It is a Kingdom that is everlasting and will never be defeated (Daniel 7:14). In his Kingdom the sea is no more.

John Howell lives in Clearwater Florida with his beautiful wife Jillian and their three year old son Elijah William. He is a member of Grace Church of Dunedin, where he serves as a Deacon, Director of Connections and most recently, Pastoral Assistant. John has a passion to preach and demonstrate the Gospel: the good news of the Kingdom come in Jesus Christ. Article originally appeared here.

On January 29, 2015 By Peter Jones In Theology Like

Happiness Begins With Knowing That Your Sins are Great

The 2nd question in the Heidelberg Catechism is this:

Q: 2. How many things are necessary for you to know, that you, enjoying this comfort, may live and die happily?

What a great question! What do I need to know that I might live and die happily? Isn’t this what everyone wants? What man, woman, or child does not want to live a happy life? Who doesn’t want to die happy? But what is the answer? How much do I need to know that my life might be a happy one? Do I need to know how to get rich? Do I need to know how to be a good person? Do I need to know how to get married? Do I need to know the joys of freedom from law? What do I need to know to live and die happily? Here is the answer given by the Heidelberg:

A: Three; the first, how great my sins and miseries are; the second, how I may be delivered from all my sins and miseries; the third, how I shall express my gratitude to God for such deliverance.

Not what you expected? We don’t usually put the fact that our sins are great as the first thing that will help us live and die happily. In fact, sin is usually considered the beginning of all our problems. But here is where happiness begins. Your best life now begins with the fact that your sins are so great that if they were drops of water the oceans would be too small to hold them. The life of joy and happiness begins with your heart being black and your hands being covered in blood.

Why does happiness begin at such an odd place?

First, the fact that we are great sinners is reality. Human beings, even Christians, often think we are not really that bad. We justify our sins. We minimize our sins. We pretend we don’t sin. We blame our sins on other people. We cover up our sins. We do anything we can to make sure our sins don’t look too black. But reality is always defined by God’s Word, not by us. Psalm 130:3 states that our sins are great. Romans says the same thing. It is assumed from Genesis 3 on that our sins are so great that we cannot save ourselves. Understanding that we are great sinners helps us see the world (and ourselves) the way it is and not the way we want it to be.

Second, only when we know our sins are great will we understand Jesus and His substitutionary work on the cross for us. When we minimize sin we minimize the cross and Jesus. When we minimize Jesus happiness, joy, comfort, delight, and peace are lost. Without sin there is no need for Christ. Without Christ all good things disappear. Until our sins are seen for what they are we cannot see Jesus rightly. And only by seeing Jesus rightly can we have pleasures forevermore.

As odd as it sounds, happiness begins with seeing yourself as a great sinner.

Are you a happy person? Do you enjoy life? Do you enjoy the comfort of the great salvation given to us in Jesus Christ? Would your spouse, your children, your co-workers, your neighbors describe you as a joyful person? If you died tomorrow would you “die happily?” If the answer is no, then perhaps you think too much of yourself. Perhaps you do not realize how great your sins are. Perhaps you spend a lot of time hiding your sins, pretending they are “mistakes” or “flaws.” Perhaps you are more concerned about how you look to others than about the reality of who you are. Step into the light. Your sins are great. That is a fact. But Jesus is greater. And only in a great Jesus can true happiness be found.

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On January 26, 2015 By Dustin Messer In Culture, Interviews, Theology Like

Church Unity and Mission: An Interview with Samuel T. Logan Jr.

Made up of 67 denominations, the World Reformed Fellowship was founded to “encourage understanding and cooperation among evangelical Presbyterian and Reformed denominations and institutions, and to link those institutions having ministry resources with those possessing vision but few resources. The fellowship promotes Reformed thinking, a Reformed world and life view, fosters evangelism and strategies on missions, church planting and theological education, and promotes international communication for the further advancement of the Gospel.” (more…)

On January 26, 2015 By Mark Horne In Culture, Theology, Wisdom Like

Angel, Absurdism, and Faith (not the girl)

Angel absurdism (i.e. pushing absurdism on the TV show) relies on you missing the real absurdity.

Atheism tries to make sense by pretending that not making sense is a special virtue. You can see it especially clearly in the brief exchange below in which Joss Whedon mentions the story in Season 2, episode 16 of the TV show Angel, “Epiphany“:

YouTube – Joss Whedon: Atheist & Absurdist.

I used to love Whedon, who has now moved on to the Marvel Avenger franchise. His browncoat-betraying anti-Romney propaganda, in which he pretended all sorts of central-planet death myths like overpopulation were true, pretty much ended my positive feeling toward him. I confess I harbor a fantasy that he was offered the work with the Marvel movies by a mysterious figure who made him sign in blood.

But I still think the exchange above is profitable to think about.

I have extreme skepticism about what Whedon claims he has suffered for his atheism. I also hate the hearing the word “faith” used for an opinion on God’s existence. Whether or not God is trustworthy is a matter of faith. Whether or not he exists has nothing to do with faith (and Hebrews doesn’t say otherwise).

But I’m posting this because I remember actually liking Angel’s slogan: “If what we do doesn’t matter; then all that matters is what we do.” And I feel really stupid for not seeing the irrationality of it immediately. Sometimes I think paradoxes give off the glint of hidden wisdom when they are just plain nonsense.

Angel’s conclusion at the end of Season 2 (or near the end) was that (to repeat) “If what we do doesn’t matter then all that matters is what we do.”

If what we do doesn’t matter, then anything might matter except what we do. You can’t draw the contradiction of a premise from that premise as if it followed as a conclusion from it.

Now that I’ve gotten that issue out of the way (in my own mind, at least), let me say why I think Whedon’s view appeals to people, especially to Christians.

Being able to evaluate and value one’s decisions and commitments without having knowledge of the eternal plan for them is a requirement for the human condition. It is set forth most starkly in the Bible in the book called Ecclesiastes.

So, I think the appeal is precisely because Whedon’s view is a close replica of the truth.

But I don’t think it works if there is no plan at all. (And claiming there is no plan seems to actually assert endless knowledge rather than humbly deny it. But that argument would be endless, so I’ll let it go.) It is one thing to make decisions and do your best without understanding why your circumstances exist or how you fit into a larger picture. But it is another to say that there is no picture.

To really act as Angel does actually requires faith. And that, in my opinion, is why Whedon had to include a miracle in his story. Viewers would have felt like there was no point without it.<>создание тур а

On January 14, 2015 By Dustin Messer In Culture, Theology, Wisdom Like

How to be an Intellectually Faithful Freshman

This week and next, colleges across the country will commence their Spring semester. Many students who grew up in Christian homes will consciously trade in their faith for a philosophical system antithetical to the one of their upbringing. Even more students, however, while not outright denying their Christian faith, will unconsciously adopt a philosophical system that is inherently idolatrous. It’s not that this second group wants to be idolaters; they simply lack the tools to discern the nature of the bill of goods their professor is selling them. So, how can one know if a given philosophical system (Kantianism, Marxism, Platonism, etc.) is idolatrous? One can begin by asking two questions. First, “is this logical?” Second, “is this sinful?” If the answer is “yes” to the first question, the answer will be “no” to the second question. If the answer is “no” to the first question, the answer will be “yes” to the second question. Here’s a story to illustrate the point:

On her twenty first birthday, Cindy was promised a night on the town with her girlfriends. After dinner, her friends came to her house in a limo, blindfolded her, and took her to Crazy Dave’s Casino (obviously, she had some pretty lame friends…). As they were getting into the limo, they shoved some bills in her purse and said “tonight’s on us!” Once inside, Cindy took off her blindfold. Because there was no signage on the inside of the building, Cindy still wasn’t sure where she was. Eventually, she saw a waitress and asked if she could get something to drink. As she pulled out her wallet to pay, she saw four hundred Crazy Dave’s Casino-Bucks in her purse.

Now, there are only two ways that Cindy could have deduced her location. First, she could have spotted a logo. While it’s true the big Crazy Dave’s sign was outside, there were actually logo’s on the slot machines, napkins, etc. Secondly, of course, she could’ve known by looking at the Crazy Dave’s Casino-Bucks. Her currency could’ve revealed to her the location. Likewise, her location could have told her what sort of currency her friends slipped into her purse. For Cindy to answer the question “am I at Casino Dave’s?” she’d have to look at her currency. For her to answer the question “what sort of currency do I have in my purse?” she’d have to look at the signage.

Back to our original question: how can one know if a given philosophical system is idolatrous? There are at least two ways: Firstly, you can look for signage. Here, you’re trying to determine if the system outrightly advertises itself as sinful. Put simply, this means asking a couple questions of the philosophical system. One question is, “does it enable me to do something God forbids?” Nihilism, for instance, enables one to tear down systems for “tearing’s” sake. Well, some systems need to be torn down, but we’re commanded to obey God’s rule. Any tearing, then, must not be for its own sake, but because we’re seeking a system patterned after the rule of God. Thus, we know Nihilism is idolatrous because it enables us to do something God forbids. Another question to ask is, “does the system forbid me from doing something God commands?” Animism, for instance, is idolatrous because it teaches that everything on the earth, indeed the earth itself, has a soul. Thus, I’m forbidden from, among other things, giving thanks to God. If “Mother Nature” is giving me food, my thanksgiving is directed to the object I’m eating rather than the One who gave me the object to eat. Like Cindy, you’re in a building (the Casino of Idolatry, if you will), and you’re looking for clues as to the nature of the structure.

Secondly, you can look at the currency in which the philosophical system deals. This is crucial because not all philosophical systems are easily detected as “sinful.” Like Cindy in the casino, there isn’t a big Crazy Dave’s sign, and the logos are quite small and inconspicuous. Thus, it won’t do to simply ask “am I in the Casino of Idolatry?” Rather, you’ll have to ask “am I using the currency of the Casino of Idolatry?” Well, what is the currency of idolatry? In a word, it’s illogicality. If the system is illogical, it is idolatrous. Idolatry is always making a deal in which you trade life for death; the family blessing for some soup. An idolatrous philosophical system never uses the currency of “logic.” Thus, one can ask the question, “Are the propositions which this philosophy proposes logical?” If the answer is “no!” then you can know the system is itself idolatrous.[1]

With a little deductive reasoning, one can find idolatry in any illogical statement. Likewise, one can find incoherence in any given expression of idolatry. In his long career, Vern Poythress has become an exemplar for how to do such deductive reasoning. In the quote below, Poythress does a wonderful job showing the inherent idolatry and incoherence of Kantian philosophy. While his remarks are limited to Kantianism, his deductive method can be applied to any philosophical system. Specifically, notice two things. First, he shows how Kantianism is illogical; it’s self-defeating. Its currency can only be spent “in-house,” as it were. In this way, Poythress is saying “look at your currency, it’ll tell you that you’re in the Casino of Idolatry.” Secondly, Poythress draws attention to the sinful signage of Kantianism. The system enables you to claim complete autonomy; rejecting any Creator-creature distinction. In this way, Poythress is saying “look at the sign, it’ll tell you that your currency can’t be logical!” Poythress is modeling for us the ways in which we can both analyze a given philosophical system, and consciously embrace our biblical faith. Says Poythress:

“…Kantian philosophy discusses everything under the sun, including God, including morality, including the nominal realm, and proceeds to tell us what we can and cannot expect to know about the noumenal realm, and why. An impressive scope, would you not say? A scope far larger than the scope that Kantian philosophy assigns as the limits of reason. Kantianism uses reason to build a system that sets the limits of reason. To do so, it has to survey the field. It has to transcend the phenomenal and look at the noumenal realm as well. It has to take a God’s-eye view. This view, once achieved, afterwards allows it to tell you and me the narrower limits in which our reason can safely operate.

The God’s-eye view is Kantianism’s secret, and simultaneously its weakest point. Kantianism is self-destructive. In its results, it tells us what are the limitations of reason. If we take those results seriously, we have to apply them to Kantianism’s own reasonings about philosophy. Those reasonings go beyond the limits, and so we conclude that they are not sound. And so the whole philosophy is unsound. And so the limits have not been established. And so we are back to the beginning. We have gotten nowhere. Except now we know not to follow Kantianism.

In addition, Kantian philosophy testifies unwittingly to the reality of human ability to transcend the immediate. We can stand back from the immediacy of experience and survey what we have been doing. And then we can stand back from that and survey the meaning of our more abstract mediations. We have the capacity… for a miniature transcendence, because our minds imitate the mind of God. We can imagine what it would be like to look at everything from God’s point of view.

But Kantian philosophy engages in this whole process of transcendence autonomously. By its act of attempting transcendence, it testifies to God who made the human mind. By its autonomy, it defies God’s instruction in Scripture and refuses to give him thanks (Rom. 1:21). Not only that, but in effect it tries to be God. Having achieved what it hopes is a godlike transcendence, it can then dictate as a god what limits we poor mortals must have for our reasoning.

In a sense, the Kantian philosophers are the godlike beings, because they can dictate to poor mortals the limits of their experience and their reason. But in another sense Kantianism allows all human beings to be godlike. Each of us becomes in his own person a kind of godlike creator of the world. We ‘create’ the whole world of phenomena, including all the structures of time and space and causality and logic and reason, by imposing structure through our mental categories. We become gods. Can you see how such a conception has a covert religious appeal for people—really all of us in our sinfulness—who desire autonomy?”[2]

[1] One may ask, “but if a system is illogical, why would anyone believe it?” After all, the professors don’t seem to be play-acting; they really believe in Marxism, etc. The short answer is that they grew up in the Casino of Idolatry. They’ve never been outside, to the real world, and thus they dismiss a dollar bill as “fake,” but hold on to the Casino-Bucks for dear life! Their logic, in other words, is self-referential. It only works in their personal Casino of Idolatry. To know what logic *is* one must venture outside of the casino, to the great (real!) world God has designed.

[2] Poythress, Vern S. Logic: A God-Centered Approach to the Foundation of Western Thought. Wheaton, Ill: Crossway, 2013; 637-638

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On December 25, 2014 By Kuyperian In Theology Like

Mary – God’s Glory and the Female Body

Annunciazione, Matthias Stom

God could have given Jesus a body in any way that He chose. It is important to consider this, and to believe that the way He chose for Jesus to come into the world as a human man has great significance for us as women. Mary has been referred to as the ark of the new covenant; her womb becomes the holy place where God chooses to dwell and to come near to His people. God honors the female body by creating in it a place for glory to dwell. When he first created woman, He had this plan in mind.

As I was considering Mary’s role in the incarnation of Jesus as is seen in Luke 1, I kept thinking of Jesus saying, “I go to prepare a place for you…” in assuring and comforting His followers that there was a special place, a beautiful home especially prepared for them. It is beautiful to consider that when God prepared a place for Jesus – a special place, a beautiful home, a secret, glorious, mysterious dwelling place – He lovingly chose the female body to be that place. In our culture, for years and years, there has been shame upon shame heaped on the female body, but this is not from God.

God, from the very beginning, honored our bodies by creating them female, able to conceive and carry and bring forth life. Each one of us walks around with a hidden picture of the ark of the covenant – by God’s design. We are walking pictures of the hidden glory of God. Treasure your body, treasure your femininity, your sexuality that God has given with great purpose to bring pleasure to Himself and to reveal Himself to the world. Whether or not we have ever had a child, ever been married, our physical bodies are glorious pictures of the holiness of God.

Regarding Mary specifically, it is wonderful to look at her response to the role that God announces to her in bringing about the incarnation of Jesus. I have always loved Mary’s words, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” I have always thought that this statement should be interpreted as a humble, sweet resignation to the hard, scary, and yet wonderful, honorable thing that God was telling her she had been chosen to do. And, I imagine, that is true. However, having been reflecting on these words more and more, I’m starting to wonder if Mary was saying, “Amen! Yes, I receive it. May it be unto me to be the ‘favored one,’ may it be true that the ‘Lord is with [me]’; let it be true that I ‘have found favor with God.’”

I think the ability to receive the blessing of the Lord takes at least as much humility as receiving hardship or suffering from His hand. May we, like Mary, have the humility to know we are not worthy of His blessing but to acknowledge that we want it and that He has the right to bestow it on us even in our unworthiness because that is what HE wants, what HE chooses. Saying, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” means having the humility to allow God to do great things in our lives that we DO NOT DESERVE as well as having the humility to allow God to do hard things in our lives.

Two questions
Are there areas in your life that you feel God has promised to bless you that you have been unwilling to receive because you feel you are not worthy (“How will this be?” Or “How can this be?”) Remember, as the angel said to Mary, “…nothing will be impossible with God.”

Would considering your femaleness as a picture of the dwelling place of God bring healing to you in any way?

A suggested application
Please consider spending time praying the words of Mary in The Magnificat during this Christmas season, asking God to allow your soul to magnify Him and to bring to mind specific ways in which He has done the following for you:
• Looked on the humble estate of his servant
• Allowing generations to call you blessed
• How he who is mighty has done great things for you
• Shown you how his name is holy
• Shown you and your generations mercy
• Shown strength with his arm
• Scattered the proud thoughts of your heart
• Brought down the mighty from their thrones
• Exalted those of humble estate
• Filled the hungry with good things
• Helped you in remembrance of his mercy
• Any other phrases of the Magnificat that jump out at you as words to speak back to God, rejoicing in God your Savior!<>mobi online

On December 23, 2014 By Adam McIntosh In Pro-Life, Theology Like

The virgin birth proves personhood at conception

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, when Christians all over the world will gather to celebrate the nativity of Jesus Christ our Lord. The eternal Word becoming flesh is fundamental to the Christian faith; we would not be able to receive salvation apart from it (Gal. 4:4-5). One important aspect of Christ’s incarnation is his birth from Mary, a virgin. We re-tell this historic event each year, though many of us neglect its significance. Why did Jesus have to be born of a virgin? There is more than one answer to this question, but today we’ll look at one that has profound implications in the debate on abortion and the personhood of the unborn.

Jesus had to be born of a virgin because he is not a human person. Kallistos Ware summarizes the traditional doctrine:

“…Christ’s birth from a virgin underlines that the incarnation did not involve the coming into being of a new person. When a child is born from two human parents in the usual fashion, a new person begins to exist. But the person of the incarnate Christ is none other than the second person of the Holy Trinity. At Christ’s birth, therefore, no new person came into existence, but the pre-existent person of the Son of God now began to live according to a human as well as a divine mode of being. So the virgin birth reflects Christ’s eternal pre-existence.” – The Orthodox Way, pg. 76-77

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On December 9, 2014 By Dustin Messer In Books, Theology, Worship Like

The End of the World as We Know It

“The implication of a true eschatological perspective will be missionary obedience, and the eschatology which does not issue in such obedience is a false eschatology.” -Lesslie Newbigin

In his brilliant new book A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology, J. Richard Middleton points out that Revelation 21:3 shifts from the singular to the plural in reference to God’s people:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them [singular], and they will be his peoples [plural], and God himself will be with them as their God.

This shift, says Middleton, shows “the general thrust of the biblical story, which expands the boundaries of the covenant people to include all humanity.”

In the Old Testament, we learn that the children of Abraham will be as many as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore (Gen 22:17). The shocking surprise of the New Testament is that, through the New Covenant, those children will be made up of every tribe, tongue, and nation (Rev 5:9). Thus, the biblical story, from Abraham forward, can be summed up as: person (Abraham) to people (Israel) to person (Jesus) to peoples (the multi-ethnic church).

Currently, we’re living in the “peoples” part of the story, the final and climactic act. This can be seen by looking at where the church is located globally (26% in Europe, 37% in the Americas, 24% in sub-Saharan Africa, and 13% in Asia and the Pacific). Of course, you can see the same reality by looking at local churches in which multiple families, races, and cultures are represented. This diversity, Revelation 21:3 reminds us, is not a result of socio-economic or political realities. No, this diversity is nothing less than a sign of the present in-breaking of Christ’s inclusive reign. It’s a sign that when Christ went down to the grave he secured the treasure once buried in a field. It’s a sign that the leaven of the kingdom is working its way through the dough of the world. It’s a sign that Heaven’s seed has been planted, and the fruits of its tree are abundant enough to feed the nations. Indeed, the melting of homogeneous worship can only mean the Spring of Pentecost is here; the King is summoning his peoples! <>racer game online

On December 5, 2014 By Dustin Messer In Books, Culture, Theology Like

The Paleo-Orthodox Diet

Please consult your physician and pastor before going on the Paleo-Orthodox Diet

In his book In Defense of Food Michael Pollan does just what the title suggests, he defends food. Pollan argues that the presupposition behind modern food science, or “nutritionism” as he calls it, is that humans don’t need food, they need nutrients. To be sure, modern science is not yet unified on exactly what nutrients mankind might best thrive on, but they are convinced that the perfect diet is to be found not in a kitchen, but in a lab. Says Pollan:

”…if you’re a nutrition scientist you do the only thing you can do, given the tools at your disposal: break the thing down into its component parts and study those one by one, even if that means ignoring the subtle interactions and contexts and the fact that the whole may well be more than, or maybe just different from, the sum of its parts.”

In other words, if you ask a scientist “what is an apple?” don’t be surprised when he answers by describing the pieces he just examined under a microscope. He’s answering the question with the skillset and worldview with which he was trained. Contra such reductionist science, Pollan argues that an apple is an entity in and of itself. Its benefits can’t be replicated simply by taking the exact dosage of Vitamins K, B-6, and E found in the fruit. No, in order to thrive, we need the apple, not simply its “nutrients.”

If Pollan is right when he says that we need food (i.e. fruits, vegetables, meat, seeds, etc.) rather than simply nutrients (i.e. vitamins, minerals, chemicals, etc.), then the answer to the question “what should we eat?” won’t be found in labs, but in kitchens. In the end, Pollan’s book is as much cultural history as it is dietary advice. Nutritionism, it becomes clear, is simply the outworking of an arrogant modernity which equates knowledge with the scientific method. It is produced by a culture which views itself, as Wendell Berry might say, more machine than human.

In his book The Death of Scripture and the Rise of Biblical Studies[i] Michael Legaspi tells the same story of modernity but with Scripture, rather than food, as the subject. If the books are read together, it becomes clear that the worldview which led us from the kitchen to the lab also led us from the church to the academy. Focusing on the ways in which Scripture was used and re-imagined in eighteenth-century Germany, Legespi skillfully shows that the Enlightenment attempted to fit the Bible into the category of “text” rather than “Scripture.” Legespi says it well, “Academic critics did not dispense with the authority of a Bible resonant with religion; they redeployed it. Yet they did so in a distinctive form that has run both parallel and perpendicular to church appropriations of the Bible.” In other words, the same Bible was being studied in the academy as in the church, but the academy had vastly different goals, values, and presuppositions motivating its study.

Thus, Legespi recounts the history of modern biblical interpretation as a move from “Scripture” (which is read in the church) to “text” (which is read in the academy). If one asks a biblical scholar “what does this text mean?” one shouldn’t be surprised when he answers by simply parsing the set of words in front of him. He’s answering the question with the skillset and worldview with which he was trained. Just as modern nutritionism views food as simply a collection of vitamins and calories, never considering the context of the whole food, never mind the whole meal, so too does the modern biblical scholar neglect the canonical context in which a given passage finds itself, as well as the context in which the text was meant to be read.

For those with eyes to see, Legaspi’s use of the word “text” is reminiscent of Pollan’s use of the word “nutrients.” A text, like a nutrient, lies on the table in front of the critic, waiting to be broken into its parts and put under a microscope for scientific study. Scripture, on the other hand, is like food. It comes on its own terms, demanding to be eaten “as is.” Scripture is more than, and different than, the sum of its parts.

For example, to “know” the story of the Good Samaritan in a textual sense simply involves issues of grammar, syntax, and cultural idiosyncrasies. To “know” the story in a Scriptural sense involves all those things, but also a willingness to view the needy around you as your neighbor. Said differently, to know a text exclusively involves one’s cognitive faculties. Knowing scripture, however, might begin with the mind, but if it doesn’t end in full-bodied obedience, it isn’t truly known. This, I take it, is the point of James 1:23-25.

If the story being told by Pollan is that of nutritionism, then the story being told by Legespi is what I’ll call “textism.” Because nutritionism and textism are both products of modernism, it will behoove those of us concerned with practicing an ancient, ecclesial, Paleo-faith to study the practices of those rejecting the dietary outworking’s of modernism. Their journey to the kitchen, in many ways, will show us the road back to the church. For example, let’s consider three of the questions Pollan recommends asking before buying food: Is this a “food?” Would my ancestors recognize it as a food? Is it local?

First, is this a “food?” As we’ve seen, when Pollan uses the word “food” he’s trying to undermine modern nutritionism. He wouldn’t want us to consider a pill which claims to have the same nutritional make-up as a squash equivalent with a squash. If you want the benefits of a squash, there is no pill, or for that matter cereal, which can equate the actual eating of a squash. Thus, when we go to the grocery store, we have to reckon with the actual creature in front of us, rather than viewing the object as a collection of mere nutrients.

When we open our Bibles, we have to ask “is this Scripture?” By answering in the affirmative, we will undermine the modernist attempt to neuter the Bible into a “text.” A text is private; Scripture is public. Textism has produced a private reading of Scripture which, at best, will demand the reader take every “spiritual” thought captive to Christ. A Scriptural reading will call the reader to take every thought captive: from politics to business to family-life. There isn’t a sphere in which the King, speaking through the Scriptures, does not demand obedience from the reader.

Likewise, a text is read rationalistically; Scripture is read theologically. A theological interpretation of Scripture[ii] is the natural consequence of recognizing the Scriptures as such. If the same Spirit who inspired Micah inspired John, then making intertextual, typological connection is not artificial, but natural, and indeed necessary! A text has one author; Scripture has two. While the divine author is never in conflict with the human author, we should expect the divine authorial intent to be “thicker” than the human author’s intent. Said differently, the same Author who started the story (in Genesis) had the climax (in the Gospels) and the ending (in Revelation) in mind all the way through. Thus, it is only natural that we recognize the substance (the thing typified) in the shadow (the type).

Second, would my ancestors recognize it as a food? Pollan points out that while your ancestors might mistake Go-Gurt® as yogurt, they certainly wouldn’t recognize its gelatin or modified corn starch as food. At some point, modern eating has departed from what traditional cultures would recognize as food. In the same way, Scripture demands to be read in a way congruent with the past. To be sure, Scripture always trumps any past interpretation of itself, but we would be fools to neglect the wisdom of our fathers. Thus, we can read, say, the account of Jesus’ baptism with the Trinitarian creeds in the back of our minds. We do this not with a slavish obedience to “tradition,” but with the humility and confidence which comes with being part of a church that transcends time and space.

Third, is it local? The modernist worldview has made the purchasing of food as abstract, impersonal, and unaccountable as possible. The orange we eat this morning was just as likely to have been picked in Mexico as Florida. The ways in which the farmer treats his employees, we’re told, is not our business. However, when one buys locally, not only is the grower made accountable to the eater, but the eater is brought into a relationship with the farmer, the merchant, and indeed the land. In other words, to buy locally is to subject yourself to a community.

Scripture, likewise, must be read locally, in community. Texts are read individually, often at a desk, with a pen and dictionary in hand. Of course, it is perfectly appropriate to study the Scriptures on one’s own; but that is not the natural way in which to read the Scriptures. The Scriptures were written to be heard, and rehearsed, in the context of a church. Thus, if one tries to exclusively read, say, the Psalms on one’s own, the lament Psalms are either muted, or applied to fairly trivial matters. If read in community, these Psalms are read (or sung) with the experiences of others in mind. True, every individual person may not be suffering in a given congregation, but someone in the church is. And, when read communally the suffering person’s burdens are borne by the whole community.

Additionally, when Scripture is read in community, the interpretation of each reader is accountable not only to the ancient church, but to the local church. The perspectives of various genders, ages, cultures, and ethnicities work as a safe-guard for any one person’s interpretation. Reading Scripture is a communal act in which each individual reader is brought into an accountable relationship with every other reader.

Michael Pollan feels compelled to defend food because he lives amidst a people whose obsession with nutrition has left them malnourished. They keep eating nutrients in what he calls “food like substances,” but never pick up what our ancestors would recognize as food. Likewise, the result of textism is a people who don’t know how to read the text of Scripture. Modernity has deceived us into reading the Bible privately, individually, and rationalistically. What is needed in our day is a pilgrimage away from the academy and to the church. What is needed is a call to read the Bible publically, communally, and theologically. Indeed, what is needed is Scripture. After all, man cannot live by texts and nutrients alone.

[i] For a wonderful interaction with Legaspi see Robert Yarbrough’s Themelios article Bye-bye Bible?

[ii] A full treatment on T.I.S. can be found in J. Todd Billings’ The Word of God for the People of God.

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On December 3, 2014 By Kuyperian In Theology Like

On Dasher

A virgin conceived. A carpenter believed. Shepherds dutifully tended their flocks, and angels joyfully followed their orders. God’s messengers made announcements from high in the heavens while a young couple made preparations in a lowly stable. A baby was born—rather the baby was born. The King of Kings left his throne and took up residence on his footstool.

Advent and Christmas—the commemoration of Jesus Christ’s nativity is festive and rightfully so. The only begotten Son of the Father came to earth in obscurity only once, and this unique, cosmos changing event inspires singers to sing, pipers to pipe, and dancers to dance. The trimming and lighting of buildings and trees; the baking and cooking and roasting of food; the drinking of glasses and bottles of wine; the making and buying and giving of gifts are exceedingly appropriate human responses to the coming of Messiah. There is every reason to celebrate for the King of Kings has come, but not all celebrated his arrival.

Herod, the king of Judea, heard of this child born King of the Jews. In futility he attempted to commit regicide, but could only accomplish infanticide—mass infanticide. This king of the earth set himself up against the Lord and against his Anointed. Herod dashed the innocents; Rachel wept; comfort was refused. Joseph dreamed and fled. Herod died. Joseph dreamed again and returned. Thus, out of Egypt God called his Son. The Holy Family settled in Nazareth, from whence something good finally came. No, not something good—someone great.

The great thing about a great king—a reason to celebrate—is that he always remembers that he is never less than a king. He serves as king from morning to noon and from noon until night. He sleeps as a king and awakens a king in the morning. A great king never tires, yea, he ever lives to serve his people, and Jesus Christ, the son of Mary, is such a King. He always protects his people. He always stands against his foes. He instructs his people to recognize the enemy, and he equips and prepares them to fight.

This requires a great king to be a great judge. As long as there are enemies, a king must rightly separate friend from foe. Royal discernment is the order of the day in order to distribute weal and woe accordingly, and distribute it he will, for a great king is not one to be trifled with.

The righteous are left unprotected if the evil are left unchecked. Therefore, a merciful king wields a rod of iron for a singular act with a manifold purpose: to strike down the impudent enemy, thereby protecting the innocent from the enemy’s wiles. Since the enemy’s endgame is nothing shy of the throne itself, for a righteous king to guard his throne is to guard his people. The enemy wants the kingdom, the throne, and, ultimately, the people. The enemy wants it all. He has ever since that tree in the middle of the garden.

Like the vikings of old, this enemy cannot be placated. To quote Rudyard Kipling, “We’ve proved it again and again. That if you once pay him the Dane-geld, you never get rid of the Dane.” Either the enemy must be converted, thereby ceasing to be a threat by ceasing to be the enemy, or the enemy must be dashed into pieces, thereby ceasing to be the enemy by simply ceasing to be. A wise king knows this and strikes a death blow with exacting precision.

As the kings of the earth take counsel together and set themselves against the Lord and against his Anointed this Advent season, the followers of the King of Kings have no reason to fear and every reason to rejoice. The whole point of Advent is that we now know the name of the Lord’s Anointed. Jesus is the Son to be kissed, lest he be angry and you perish in the way. And Jesus is the One who blesses all those who take refuge in him (Psalm 2:12). Behold, the goodness and severity of God (Rom. 11:22).

A virgin conceived. A carpenter believed. The baby was born. The King of Kings left his throne and took up residence on his footstool. King Jesus laid down his life, and he took it up again. Wielding a rod of iron, he needed only one swing to both conquer his foe and save his people. In Jesus Christ, we have every reason to rejoice and sing, to eat and drink, and to have ourselves a merry little Christmas.

“You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.” Psalm 2:9

This article was originally published in Every Thought Captive magazine, Volume 18 Issue 10, December 2014<>game mobi