WhetWords

2003-05-06T21:06:00.000-04:00

Arminians While on Our Feet

Reformed types are quick to point out that everyone is a Calvinist while on their knees. But in a certain qualified sense, I wish that Calvinists were more like Arminians while on their feet.

2003-05-03T15:59:00.000-04:00

Too Few Daughters Named Jael

I think it comes from our failure to see creation as poetic expression, but I'm not sure. Whatever the case, evangelicals consistently misread the merit of various cultural out workings.

Consider the movies Magnolia and Ocean's 11. The former might be dismissed as lewd, base, profane--even blasphemous and sacrilegious. The latter is casually accepted as relatively benign; a source of cheap entertainment and mindless fun, but posing no real threat to our moral sense. And if these claims were disputed, many concerned mothers would offer a quick foul word count to make their case. As if by counting the number of thorns on a bush they are able to determine its beauty. But thorns cannot be properly understood apart from noting the greenness of their stems. And you know nothing of a bush unless you follow it from the soil up, eventually resting your eyes on its flowering buds and smelling its fragrant bouquet.

Magnolia's characters are wicked; a point all recognize because the movie makes it plain. These characters are not appreciated for their wickedness. They are tolerated only when held in tension with the movie's themes--the significance of every action, the helplessness of man, the judgment of wickedness, repentance, and the wonder of mercy. In like manner, Ocean's 11 is about a band of wicked men. Unlike Magnolia, Ocean's 11 is enjoyable only when one adopts the position of cheerleading for sinners to win at sinning. The wicked are not seen as wretched; rather they are hip urbane heroes. An evangelical mother would think nothing of her teenage son watching Ocean's 11, but if caught watching Magnolia he would be scolded.

This problem extends well beyond television screens. It surfaces wherever narrative is found. And since everything is a narrative, we are more than chest deep in the mud of sloppy readings. Prudish pietism falsely passed off for godliness is due for a good clubbing. A good to place to start is by reorienting ourselves to God's Word as God's Word. Not only is all Scripture worthwhile for instruction, but it is also a perfect expression of meaningful--and beautiful--story telling. This includes Leviticus with its gory descriptions and talk of menstruation and testicles. Fences are useful, but not when they make Ehud an embarrassment and leave us with an emasculated Jesus.

2003-04-30T21:56:00.000-04:00

Venus Rising

I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn't make a fool of me
you were in it for your beauty, too
--Leonard Cohen

While on a recent walk some friends and I passed-by a fitness facility. One of the more clever members of our clan said, "Let's pray that our wives never look like that!" He was referring to a taut young blonde with tight, well, manish thighs and a pair of thug arms to match. And though we couldn't see them, I'm sure she had a rippling six pack beneath her Fear This sweatshirt. Just the type of gal the guys howl over. After all, she is everything a woman wants in a man.

2003-04-28T22:28:00.000-04:00

Times of Plenty and Little

Financially speaking, my net worth does not stand tall against any of the usual measuring sticks. Still, it is a source of ceaseless amazement to me how rich I am. And I don't mean this, to use an evangelical cliche, in the spiritual sense.

Kerri and I often host meals. Not only does God provide enough that we may provide for others, but He provides enough that we may provide a wide assortment of appetizers, beverages, and deserts. We consume books and movies in a seemingly endless stretch of indulgence. My daughter has clothes in her closet that she'll never wear--the kind gifts of family and friends who are also adrift in abundance. Every friend to enter our home is witness to this plentitude of things. If we have anything, we have stuff, and it's everywhere.

Still, as I reflect on all that God has given me, there are things I may safely say I have too little of--stuff like thankfulness, praise, gratitude, and joy.

2003-04-21T12:47:00.000-04:00

Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi

I realize I could produce examples like this on a daily basis, with plenty to spare. So this will be the last. Jaime Thornton was kind enough to point me to this one:

"New Harvest Church in Oregon will be reopening with a new name - NH on the bay - and a revamped look. The independent Christian church, located at 2540 Seaman Rd., underwent a $500,000 renovation in which pews were replaced with padded chairs and coffee tables, creating a living-room atmosphere. Instead of ushers, the church will have "hosts and hostesses" who will not only collect the offerings, but serve cappuccino while the Rev. Jeff Zakzrewski preaches from a couch."

One of the things he and I discussed is the importance of the church in guarding her liturgics. That is, things like this don't happen overnight. They start somewhere and increasingly grow in ugliness. All of our liturgical choices have long and short-term consequences, which can be either good or bad, but never nuetral. When we gather for worship we are, in part, cultivating the worship practices of those present and--in no small way--those to follow in future worship. For example, our church kneels for prayer. In this way, the elders have deemed it fit to cultivate a right posture for prayer within their flock. There was never any formal letter issued or a Sunday School reserved to explain the change from sitting to kneeling, nor should there have been. What our elders did was wise and good. Simply by asking us to kneel each week we learn one vital element of biblical prayer. And like all things we must grow into this. Children will not necessarily understand why they are kneeling instead of standing. Nonetheless, a four year old kneeling for prayer will become an eight year old who thinks it is only right and good to kneel during prayer.

Commenting on the failure of some contemporary songs Geoff Thomas says, "Christianity contemporarily expressed cannot also serve a vision of the eternities. In other words, one will not find Puritanism growing out of CWM. Either the CWM will kill the Puritanism or the Puritanism will kill the CWM." We might wish to nuance this, but the thrust of his statement remains.

One question we must pose to novel worship is where did it come from, and, just as importantly, where is it going? How can churches manage worship in a way that preserves proper lines of historic continuity and at the same time point in a direction that cultivates righteousness? Think about New Harvest on the Bay--what will the children of this church grow to worship? What forms will they appropriate to accomplish their task?

2003-04-13T22:08:00.000-04:00

Liturgical Logic Rears Its Ugly Warhead

Blair dropped a line this evening to tell me about something that is, as he put it, "instantly bloggable." After a few seconds, I was on board with his assessment. Blair was reading the Wall Street Journal and came across an interesting piece about the latest development in the invitation system:

BAPTISM BY FIRE: In other religious news from the front, Army chaplain Josh Llano has become an instant villain on Internet blogs for making tired, dirty U.S. soldiers near Najaf, Iraq, an offer they find hard to refuse: a chance for a clean bath. "It's simple," the chaplain, a self-professed Southern Baptist evangelist, told the Miami Herald. "They want water. I have it, as long as they agree to get baptized." And they must listen, the paper adds, to one of the chaplain's "hour-and-a-half sermons in his dirt-floor tent."

This brought to mind a blurb from a recent C/A. One Doug or another reminds us that liturgical logic will eventually find its proper end:

Rich Liturgical Thinking
One web page posts ideas for "youth groups," and one of their concerns involves "terrorist attack resources." A correspondent from Ohio posted a communion idea--they used white doughnuts with the white representing the innocence of those lives lost and because doughnuts are associated with the morning when the attacks happened. They also used Hawaiian Punch to represent the mix of cultures grieving. They also reminded the kids that these elements truly represent the body and blood of Christ.

We conform to our worship, and liturgical logic always works its way out. So finally, a fitting sacramental description of the modern evangelical church--powdery white doughnuts and fruit punch!

All jokes aside, there is a great deal we can learn from the above quotes. Worship is, after all, directional.

2003-04-10T13:13:00.000-04:00

To Those That Love Me and Keep My Commandments

John Tyler was elected to the presidency in 1841. In 1861 he voted in favor of secession. John Tyler had 7 children. A man you've never heard of, George T. McMorran, was born in Michigan in 1858. Another man you've never heard of, John McMorran, died in Florida this February at the age of 111. A few days ago Lyons Tyler gave a history lecture to a group of high school students. John McMorran was the son of George T. McMorran. Lyons Tyler is the grandson of President John Tyler.

Think about this. Until just a couple of months ago, there was only one generation separating the War Between the States from us. Right now, there are two generations between us and our 10th president. We think of these events as having occurred a very long time ago, in a land different than our own. But as we see they occurred one and two generations ago, and we drive our cars across the same soil their horses trod.

It's difficult to imagine all of this, and making sense of it is still more difficult. One could never catalogue the amount change that has taken place since 1841. A Christian of 1841 could have never imagined the spiritual decline that would overtake this, his, nation. Pessimism usually follows hard from such reflections, but it shouldn't. Queen Mary took the throne in 1553. John Winthrop arrived at Massachusetts Bay in 1630. Rapid decline can rapidly give way to glorious ascension. I once heard a respected pastor say, "1000 years from now some bright seminary student will be trying to remember who came first, Augustine or Calvin?" One generation from now our grandchildren could be playing in the parks of a new Geneva.

2003-04-08T22:27:00.000-04:00

And Barefoot Servants Too

The God of heaven will give us success; therefore we His servants will arise and build...
Nehemiah 2:20

I am currently reading a few books that either directly or ostensibly deal with Puritan thought and practice. Each of these books has been well worth their price. In a way, the books represent a happy return of sorts. Over the past year or so I have been hung-up by some perceived deficiencies (in my eyes, at least) of certain doctrinal nuances the Puritans brought to fore. The legitimacy of these concerns notwithstanding, I fear that at points my complaints are something like demurring against winter for being cold. I need to be careful to remember that the Puritans were men of whom the world was not worthy.

Without fail Puritans were resolute in the belief that God's sovereign hand ordained all things, and that the Lordship of Christ stood in relation to all things. In this frame, they disliked such false categorizations as sacred and secular, especially when the terms were employed to denote social classes. In one sense, all things are sacred. Being part of the created order necessarily brings some sanctity to things. The stuff of creation only becomes profane when handled without regard for its appropriated place under Christ's rule. To rephrase this, idols are not little creators, they are little creations.

This manner of thinking bore heavily on their view of work. All callings required an acknowledgement of the sanctity of the task at hand, and of the priestliness of hands while toiling. Whether one was sweeping the street or sentencing a crime bent street sweeper, it was their Christian duty to ensure that the energy going in to the task and the product coming out of it were subservient to the law of Christ. We can say that Puritans drew near to the 4th commandment on both ends. They were zealous for purity in Sabbath rest, and they were zealous to glorify God with six days of labor. For them as well as us, all fields of discipline are to be made holy, wholly consecrated unto Christ.

Puritan America was a glorious place. God caused the work of those saints to flourish. And in many ways, we are still living off the blessing that came about through their thorough going obedience. We can't return there, nor should we want to. God has placed us here and now with callings and work of our own. We can't return, but we might just build something better. I understand that this seems a mythical view of the future. But if we look by faith and not with our eyes, we would see that in God's providence myth has a way of becoming fact. And vast spans of ocean are just puddles at the gate of a garden.

2003-04-03T22:52:00.000-05:00

Wine on the Lees Well Refined

To say John Murray was a staunch sabbatarian is to openly poison the water before offering it up for drink. Language like this sounds dour, callous, and sterile. It makes Sabbath-keeping seem an unlovely task, and Sabbath-keepers inordinate harbingers of an old, lost order. Since men of John Murray's caliber often are referenced in this way, it seems wise to quell such misdirecting notions right off.

While it is true that Murray was a staunch sabbatarian, it is much more accurate to say that he was passionately obedient to Christ, the 4th Word of the Law notwithstanding. This, I think, makes that glass of water refreshing. Of all the works within John Murray's corpus, his writings concerning the permanency and observance of this commandment are amongst the most edifying. But we are not only left with his writings; we have his witness, too.

In 1927, shortly before his ordination, a dispute broke out amongst the members of John Murray's home presbytery. The majority of the presbyters were at odds with another minister over his refusal to discipline a woman for using public transit on the Sabbath. The Synod of the Free Presbyterian Church had previously ruled, "that members who use public transport 'run in systematic disregard of the sacred day' and should be debarred from attendance at the Lord's Table."

Murray's opinion was sought, his ordination being, in no small way, contingent upon provision of an acceptable response. To further complicate matters, this particular presbytery was that of his father, one of the few faithful in his native Scotland, and comprised of men Murray had greatly revered since youth. All indicators seemed to suggest Murray would affirm the majority view. Indeed, he had more than enough reason to do so.

As stated above, Murray was neither indifferent nor ambivalent regarding the subject of Sabbath-keeping. Dating back to earliest childhood, he had been raised, and had ever since, considered it his duty to season the Sabbath with thoughts of and adoration toward his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. This practice continued throughout his life. Iain Murray recounts the story that one afternoon after worship John Murray gently rebuked his mentor and close friend Gresham Machen for bringing up the subject of baseball on the Lord's Day. Deep convictions like these characterized his life. When preaching away from home Murray would always see to it that he arrived the night before, left the day after, and was located close enough to the church so as to walk to worship. All of this was done to prevent any unnecessary travel or distraction from the practice of Sabbath-keeping.

In 1927 Murray took the dissenting position, contra his presbytery. Although he was himself unable to use public transit on the Sabbath, he maintained that this practice was not necessarily unscriptural. In his view, if one were to use, say, a bus to arrive at worship they were be to commended for seeking to keep the Sabbath, not reprimanded for violating it. With these qualifiers in mind, Murray "could not uphold the discipline required by his synod at the price of disobedience to his own conscience." However, no exceptions were allowed and John Murray was not ordained with the Free Presbyterian Church.

Looking back on all this, it is evident that God vindicated the ministerial calling of John Murray. His life and work attest to his service as a keeper of the faith, all wrought with other laudable examples of personal piety, biblical discretion, and charity. No single practice in my life shines forth with such heartfelt conviction or sincerity of practice. In this way, I am humbled by John Murray.