‘Les Misérables’ and the Law of God

Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables is again a topic of conversation, and for good reason.

Christians, in particular, have rightly celebrated the portrayal of the beauty of mercy and grace in this moving 150-year-old tale. Most of the theological analyses have contrasted Javert, the law-obsessed Inspector, with Valjean, the grace-transformed thief.

And while much of this analysis has been spot-on, it’s important that a central biblical and theological reality not get lost. Let me put it this way: Many people regard Javert as the consummate legalist, the embodiment of a single-minded preoccupation with perfect obedience to God’s righteous Law. The problem is this: he’s not.

Make no mistake, Javert is a legalist, from his back teeth to his little toe. But the law that forms his fixation is not the Law of God, the Law of Moses, or the Law of Christ. It is law, for sure, but it is 19th-century French law, draped in a veneer of religiosity, but bearing only a passing resemblance to anything biblical.

The apostle Paul says that God’s Law is holy, righteous, and good (Romans 7:12). But there is nothing holy about condemning a hungry man to prison for five years for stealing bread. There’s nothing righteous about branding such a man as a dangerous criminal for the remainder of his life. There’s nothing good about a law (or law-man) obsessed with catching a parole-breaking former thief, while ignoring persistent criminals like the Thenardiers.

The law Javert loves is a bureaucratic web that entangles the poor and privileges the wealthy. The society Javert defends oppresses widows and orphans, driving them into prostitution and theft as a means of survival. Javert’s law privileges the testimony of the well-to-do over that of a shivering and defenseless woman (even as the powerful seek to satiate their lust in the seedy part of town). Javert’s law consigns the poor to a life that is nasty, brutish, and (in Fantine’s case) mercifully short.

And lest this condemnation of the ruling class in Les Mis be taken as an endorsement of the “angry men” and their revolutionary ideology, let me just say that I regard the glorification of revolutionary violence as one of the central and most subtle seductions of Hugo’s story, and one that discerning Christians will recognize and reject.

Les Mis romanticizes the Revolution and the utopian radicalism it rode in on: the divinization of “the People,” the glorification of “the barricade,” the obsession with overthrowing the past and recreating the world. The “angry men” make it to “heaven” by their blood and martyrdom for the Cause and “the People,” but the real “angry men” (or rather, their predecessors in 1789) gave us the guillotine and the Temple of Reason in their quest for “Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.” The ancien regime was awful, but the revolutionaries were arguably worse.

Distinguishing Javert’s legalism from biblical law is of more than merely semantic interest. It can color the way that we as Christians read the Old Testament. It can perpetuate the idea that attempts to faithfully obey God’s Law are problematic and flawed from the outset, when such efforts are in fact worthwhile and commendable, provided they are done from faith in Jesus and out of confidence we’ve already been accepted by God.

Think of it this way: If Jesus (or Moses) came to Javert, he would not condemn him for his meticulous attempts to keep God’s Law; he would condemn him for neglecting God’s Law, for ignoring God’s Law, especially its weightier matters: mercy, justice, and faithfulness (Matthew 23:23). In other words, Javert would be condemned as a Pharisee, for that is just what he is.

But let us not forget the heart of Jesus’s condemnation of the Pharisees. He condemns the Pharisees for their law-breaking (Matthew 23:2), for their human traditions which trump God’s Law (Matthew 15:3–7), for their love of money (Luke 16:14), for oppressing the poor and the weak (Matthew 23:4), for not caring about the Law enough (for if they did, they would recognize Jesus as its fulfillment).

And let’s not forget that it’s Jesus that ups the ante on obedience in the Sermon on the Mount, calling “sin” what the supposed “lawkeepers” would have excused (lust, anger, oath-taking). All of which is to say, in keying off Les Mis, let’s not equate Javert with God’s Law or with Christian obedience (over against Christian mercy and grace). In fact, if we’re thinking biblically, Valjean is the true lawkeeper, who upholds the weightier matters, protects the weak, the poor, and the oppressed, and keeps the Great Commandments (love for God and love for neighbor) because he was bought by the grace of God (in the bishop’s silver).

I’m not saying that Les Mis doesn’t communicate the beauty of mercy. It certainly does — and does so spectacularly. Nor am I saying that Javert is not an example of everything that is wrong with humanity. In fact, this analysis shows just how pervasive the human penchant to establish false laws is. Whether it’s the traditions of the Pharisees, the ethnocentric law-boasting of the Judaizers, the bureaucratic minutiae of Javert, the over-scrupulousness of fundamentalists, or the hate crimes of the progressives, human beings love to break God’s Law by erecting our own. We are rebels, and this is what we do.

So yes, press Les Mis into use as a Sunday School illustration. Bring it out as a way to start a gospel conversation with an unbelieving coworker. But as you do, be mindful of what you’re doing. Don’t equate Javert with the Law as God intended it. Instead, try this as an exercise: Critique Javert and the society he represents on the basis of the Old Testament alone. Maybe even limit yourself to the Pentateuch.

Remind yourself that the God of all grace, the God of astounding mercy, the God of ransomed sinners reveals himself not only in Matthew and Romans, but also in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. Remember that “the world we long to see” is a world in which we walk according to the Spirit and thus fulfill the righteous requirement of the Law (Romans 8:4). Remember that it would most likely be Valjean, not Javert, who would echo David’s song in Psalm 119: “Oh, how I love your law!”

A Promise to Live By

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)

There is no verse in the Bible I have used more often to strengthen my hand for a frightening task. It is my default promise. It is the whir of the gears of my brain when they are in neutral. It has served me for decades like no other verse. It has strengthened me for traveling to strange places, speaking a foreign language, taking doctoral exams, interviewing for jobs, preaching to big crowds, facing cancer surgery, making undesired phone calls, and saying I’m sorry.

It is the most common first T in APTAT — my way of walking by the Spirit. When I face a challenge, I walk through APTAT: A — Admit I can’t do anything without Christ. P — Pray for help to do it. T — Trust a specific promise of God to help me (Isaiah 41:10!). A — Act. T — Thank him when I’m done.

One of the reasons this verse is so helpful is that it is not about God in the third person (“he will”), but by God in the first person (“I will”). Every time I say it, I hear him talking directly and personally to me. This is enormously powerful. It is as if he were standing right here and saying, “Go ahead, do what you have to do. I will help you. Yes, I will. I will give you strength. I will hold you up.”

Another reason it is so helpful is that it is general and sweeping. “I will help you” fits every situation. I need help all the time. All the time! This promise is perfect, therefore, all the time. There is no situation where it is not needed.

Another reason it’s helpful is that it closes with a reference to God’s nature: his righteousness. “I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” God’s righteousness is his unwavering commitment to act for his glory. He never swerves from that course. Therefore, where his name is at stake, he can be counted on to act with zeal. That is a warrant for faith. It has helped me hundreds of times.

Finally, this promise is helpful because it is valid for me, a Gentile, even though it was made to Jews. That’s because all the promises of God are Yes in Messiah Jesus (2 Corinthians 1:20). This means it’s mine because of the gospel. Christ died to make this promise true for all who are in him. By faith I am in him. So this promise, and all the promises, are mine. God will be as faithful to this promise, and this child, as he is to his crucified and risen Son. It is that sure.

Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

A Wife’s Submission in the Cosmic Plan of Christ

“I believe wives should be submissive to their husbands. And so do you. See? We’re the same.”

My neighbor was mistaken.

Her argument is quite common. Living overseas, we often hear people drawing the same conclusion when they compare the traditionally conservative values of world religions. “See? We’re the same.”

Early on in our time here in Dubai, I was confronted with this question: How can I help my neighbor see a difference in the hope that I have if my submission to my husband seems to her as “the same”?

Instead of agreeing that all of our virtues and conservative values are signposts on different roads going up the same mountain, I see an opportunity to give a defense of my faith with gentleness and respect.

The Bible defines a wife’s submission to her husband in terms that describe its motive, means, and end as distinctly and uniquely Christian. For my own joy as well, I love to share about the cosmic plan of Christ to be exalted as Head over all things and how this shapes the way I view my submission to my husband.

The penal substitutionary death of Jesus Christ, his resurrection from the dead, and his subsequent exaltation above every name changes how we view our roles in marriage because, indeed, it changes everything. Neither wives nor husbands can understand our respective callings to submission and leadership in Ephesians 5:21–24 without first submitting to the cosmos-ruling Christ of Ephesians 1:9–10, and 1:20–23.

Andreas J. Köstenberger explained it this way: “To the extent that a married couple sees itself as part of the global eschatological movement toward ‘summing up all things in Christ’ (Ephesians 1:9), it will experience fulfillment and share the perspective on marriage Paul presents in the passage at hand (Ephesians 5:28–32).”

When I consider submission as anything less than my whole-hearted participation in Jesus’ plan to be head over all things, my vision for submission is myopic. In this distorted view, glorifying my husband above all things becomes my goal (and the goal that I fall short of). The motive and end for my submission, when applied in this errant way, are husband-centered. Then my grudging attitude and embittered lip-service to my husband’s leadership demonstrates how quickly I take my eyes off of Christ’s purposes in the world and in my home.

The arguments for submission based on pragmatics and traditionalism stop short of leading me to rely on future grace and fail to infuse joy in its application. I’ve seen how meditating on the big picture theology of God’s cosmic plans fills my heart with hope and wonder and drops right into my apartment.

Considering my submission to my husband as part of the epic plan of God has changed the way I view my life in the home. Because no authority on earth precedes Jesus’ authority, I understand submission does not mean that every decision my husband makes is to be infallibly followed. In fact, a husband’s authority is limited to those areas that please Christ (that is, a wife is not called to follow her husband into sin or to simply endure his sinful behaviors).

I am blessed with a godly husband, but there are still moments when I feel like submission to my husband is difficult, and in those moments I remember my submission (like the church’s submission) is as to Jesus. Jesus’ leadership and rule over me is self-giving and cruciform, so I can trust the Lord in those moments and exalt Jesus as I submit to my husband’s Christ-honoring leadership.

What a grace God has given wives to participate in his plan to reconcile all things to himself (1 Corinthians 15:28)! Meditating on Jesus’ headship over the cosmos also gives weight to my witness of the ultimate worth of Jesus Christ both locally in my home and on the cosmic stage. By grace through faith, my submission is a Christ-exalting endeavor as our children and neighbors look on and (Lord-willing) notice a difference in my submission.

As a Christian wife delights herself in the Lord and submits to her husband by faith, she can rest knowing that it is God himself who is working in her, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. God’s good pleasure to exalt Jesus above every name overflows into our own hearts as we make him our treasure. We exult in God’s mercy to sinful husbands and wives as he has put all things under King Jesus’ feet and given him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:22–23).

While many cultures around the world base their belief in a wife’s submission to her husband in their own societal traditions, gender inequality, pragmatism, and religion, the claims of Christianity make our perspective quite different. As we read in God’s word, the motive, means, and end of a wife’s submission to her own husband are distinctly Christian. Distinctly Christian submission is grounded in the eschatological premise of Jesus Christ’s supremacy over all creation. Christ is putting the cosmos back in order and this includes restoring God’s original pre-fall design for marriage.

The means of this submission is exclusively by grace through faith as a Christian wife is led and empowered by the Holy Spirit. And the aim of a wife’s submission to her husband is always to exalt Jesus Christ, the Head, who is far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come (Ephesians 1:21).

Jesus sustains and upholds the universe by the word of his power. All created things exist in him and for him and through him. With Jesus as our Chief Cornerstone (Ephesians 2:20), we are called out of the world to be the household of God in Christ by the Spirit. By grace we are grafted “into Christ” and called to submit our lives to his kingly reign over all things. All of life becomes a sacrifice of praise to Jesus and his glorious grace for all eternity, including a wife’s submission to her own husband.

This post is part of a larger study of marriage in light of Christ’s finished work. Here's the entire series —

Tony Reinke, blog post, “Marriage in the Cosmic Plan of God”Tony Reinke, article (PDF), “Marriage in the Cosmic Plan of God,” The Journal for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (Fall, 2012)Gloria Furman, blog post, “A Wife’s Submission in the Cosmic Plan of Christ”Authors on the Line, podcast, “Marriage on the Cosmic Stage: An Interview with Bible Scholar G. K. Beale”Luma Sims, blog post, “We Are the Second Eve”

Am I Willing?

Unpacking in our new home in a new state far from our families, I opened a box marked Fragile in big black letters. Inside, buried under bubble wrap, I found my framed wedding vows. While I searched the master bedroom for the perfect spot where the frame could hang, I read what I had committed to Kyle on our wedding day. Just as it had when I had first written the words, my heart stopped on one line.

I vow to support the ministry that God gives you.

When I wrote those vows in the weeks leading up to our wedding, I read them several times, each time imagining myself speaking them on our wedding day and, each time, hesitating at the promise to support Kyle’s calling into ministry. Although they were weighty, the other lines about faithfulness and commitment felt right to me; I could confidently make those promises to Kyle. I considered scratching the ministry line because it seemed out of place for wedding vows, but my heart felt unsettled at that prospect, too. I couldn’t pinpoint the difficulty surrounding this one vow.

Kyle had a clear call to ministry, of which I was fully supportive. In fact, although I had rarely voiced it, I had felt a similar call on my life from the time I was in high school. I suspected I would marry someone with the same calling. When Kyle told me what he wanted to do with his life, I thought, Well, of course! as if it were silly to consider anything else. We rarely discussed the calling — it was a given, a natural next step for both of us, something we were willing to give our lives for. The hesitation, then, to put my support in writing surprised me. Possibly for the first time, in the middle of writing my wedding vows, I considered what ministry might mean for my life.

As I measured the future with a moment of God-given clarity, I saw what a lifetime of ministry might entail: shouldering heavy responsibilities, giving ourselves away to others, living far away from family, or possibly enduring criticism or defeat for the sake of Christ. Because Kyle had surrendered control of his future to God, my vow of support meant stepping into his shadow and following him where God led. Was I willing? Was my conviction so firm that I would speak those words to Kyle and to God in front of our friends and family?

Eight years after our wedding day, I stood in our new home, holding those vows in my hands. We had just moved to Charlottesville, Virginia, to start a church from scratch. I recalled hearing the term church planter in seminary, but had not known what it meant, certainly not imagining the term would ever describe us. Yet there I stood, dusting off a frame of my wedding vows in a home and a city where we didn’t know anyone. Although much had changed since the day we wrote our promises down on scratch paper — we had three little boys and Kyle’s experience of serving on staff at a church in Texas — the same questions arose in my heart, urging for a silent renewal of the vow I had made to my husband. When I’d first said those words, they had been a general affirmation of the calling on my husband’s life. Now we faced the difficult work of church planting. My support and affirmation of my husband’s ministry would be crucial.

Was I willing?

I said yes on my wedding day, and I said yes to church planting. And — this is very much the key to being a minister’s wife — I have said yes every day since, most of the time with joy, sometimes with reluctance and selfish resentment, but nonetheless a yes.

I vowed a commitment to my husband, but I’ve discovered the commitment, the yes, that sustains is my submission to God. My yes is to Him and will naturally align itself as support of what my husband does as a minister of the gospel.

Three years after the day I laid my head down on my pillow in our new home in a new state far from our families, wondering if something could be made out of nothing, God has done it. He has used His people, so broken and weak, to bring light to a spiritually dark place.

Every so often, I stand in front of my wedding vows, hanging framed on the wall. Just as when I wrote the words, my heart stops on one line.

I vow to support the ministry that God gives you.

Clearly, my support and affirmation of my husband’s ministry has been vital. And, clearly, God has moved powerfully around and among us.

But the work is far from complete. The Lord is still calling on me to move forward in faith — loving, serving, discipling, and leading. Church planting — and all of ministry — is a faith marathon, not a sprint. Daily He asks for my heart, that He might cultivate it, so as to produce fruit in and around me.

Am I willing?

Note: Christine Hoover’s new book — The Church Planting Wife: Help and Hope for Her Heart — is now available for purchase online. And here are other recent DG posts she's written —

Fitness Goals and the New Year

The new year ushers in new resolutions and fitness historically lands at the top of new year’s resolution goals for most people. I’ve been a part of the fitness industry for nearly eight years off and on. Each January fitness facilities are flooded with new members and new participants in group fitness classes (where you would have found me teaching classes).

I assume part of the reason is we’ve just spent two months eating enormous amounts of food celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas. The other reason is each year seems like a time to start anew.

I’m not opposed to that goal. Caring for our bodies can be a way to honor God. God created us not to lay waste to our bodies through abusing them but so we might use them for His glory and His purposes. And though godliness is of supreme value, we know that physical training is of some value to the Lord. Paul helps us see the false dichotomy when he writes, “For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Timothy 4:8).

So we can assume that it is okay to pursue exercise as a goal for healthy living and most importantly for godly living. Exercise provides strength for service, it can be restorative, and it can be rejuvenating.

But the fact that there is a need for exercise at all is another reminder that we live in a fallen world with fallen bodies. If the beginning of the new year is a reminder that we need to exercise, it is even more a reminder that we need God.

The fall of mankind brought significant damage to the entire world. Not only did it bring sin into the world, cursing even our good deeds, it brought disease and death. The moment we are born our bodies begin the process of deteriorating. We develop and grow and fall apart. Even at 34-years-old, though for many I would be considered young, I cannot jump as high or run as fast as I once did. And I find myself aching in places I never did before.

God informs Adam that as part of the punishment for his sin humanity would “return to the ground” (Genesis 3:19). The very ground he was created from, once pure and undefiled, he will return to as dust.

Our bodies droop and change and grow tired. We try every experimental drug and various forms of exercise to prolong or prevent the inevitable. Botox and plastic surgery and a lifetime of marathons cannot prevent our inevitable fate. Like Adam, we are dust, and will return to the dust (Genesis 3:19).

No amount of exercise that can stop it.

While there is nothing on this earth to be desired for all eternity, in God’s kindness He doesn’t leave us alone in our disintegration. We know that in time he will make all things new and what was once wrought with disease and pain will rise into glory with Christ. Paul connects the fall and our resurrection for us when he writes, “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:22–23).

If that weren’t good news enough, Paul reminds us that not only will we be with Christ but that we will be with him and like him, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself” (Philippians 3:20–21).

Yes! God will make it new. He will transform our bodies, the ones we are pulling and tucking and starving and beating to try to make beautiful — yes, he will make our bodies beautiful, pure, and glorious when he returns. Our bodies will never die again. And most importantly, we will be without sin.

As this new year begins, our fallen and imperfect bodies are yet another way we can look to Christ. By his grace, we can take our eyes off of ourselves and fix them squarely on Jesus.

Our bodies are made for worship and if the Lord has us live long enough, we may be left with bodies that are unable to do anything but worship.

Each ache and pain and droopy muscle that was once firm, is another reminder that we have a Savior who is perfect in beauty and he is coming to get us, to return us to our pre-fall state, and to raise us to a condition more glorious than we can imagine.

Five Promises for Your Bible Reading and Prayer

Do you consistently seek God in the word and prayer? Or have you tried again and again, become discouraged, and given up? We are deep enough into January that this is the story for many us. Resolutions have began to stall. And even if you do get time with God, is it life-giving? Or is it just going through the motions, reading an assigned passage, praying through your list, and being relieved when it’s over?

It's not too late to make some good changes. So if you are struggling to spend time with God, here are five promises that can help:

Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me … Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy. (Psalm 43:3–4)

God promises to be your exceeding joy, not because of what he gives, but because of who he is. When we behold and worship him we have infinitely more joy than we have in anything else.

So why would we rather sleep in than seek God? It’s because we’re not trusting that God is our exceeding joy. So what can we do?

Don’t just grit your teeth and try harder. Do what the psalmist says — ask God to send you his light (the heart-enlightening work of the Spirit) and his truth (the Word of God). Then pray over promises describing God as your joy, like Psalm 43:3–4; Psalm 16:11; Matthew 13:44; and 1 Peter 1:8.

As you do, God will send his light and truth so you see and feel that he really is your exceeding joy. Then, when you see that infinite joy is found in him, you’ll want to spend time with him.

So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. (Romans 10:17)

Many mornings I’m tempted not to seek God because my faith feels weak. But that’s like not going to the doctor because my body feels sick. Just like doctors heal sick bodies, so God strengthens weak faith, as we hear his word.

Weak faith is like a weak battery. But God’s word is a battery charger. So when your faith is weak, open his word, and plug in your weak faith. God promises that as you do that, he will recharge you.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Psalm 119:105)

The world is like a pitch-black cave in which we can’t see anything. But God has given us the high-powered flashlight of his word.

So if we head into our day without pondering God’s word, it’s like stumbling through a cave without turning on the flashlight.

But starting the day in God’s Word is like turning on the flashlight, so we can see the crevice to avoid, the rock to duck under, the turn we want to take. Don't head into your day without turning on the flashlight.

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. (Matthew 7:7)

One reason we don’t pray is because we believe Satan’s lie that prayer does nothing. But that’s not what Jesus taught (Matthew 7:7).

Jesus promises that every time we pray, God will answer. He will either do exactly what we ask, or something even better, which he would not have done had we not prayed.

So if I start the day praying about my heart, marriage, children, work, and ministry, then God will do things in my heart, marriage, children, work, and ministry that he would not have done had I not prayed. Trust Jesus’ promise about prayer — and pray.

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:41–42)

Martha had busied herself in the kitchen, while Mary sat at Jesus’s feet, listening to his word. And Jesus said Mary had made the right choice, because she had chosen the one thing which could not be taken from her.

Everything else can be taken from you. But time with Jesus will never be taken from you, because the heart you nurture for Jesus now will bring you increased joy in him forever. And ever. And ever.

So if you haven’t spent time with God, and you are tempted with the newspaper, Facebook, or a phone call, stop. Ask yourself: what will bring me joy that will never be taken away?

Then set everything else aside to join Mary at Jesus’s feet, listening to his word.

Tomorrow Morning

The alarm goes off.

I’m tired. Maybe just a little more sleep. But wait. . .

God is inviting me to exceeding joy.His word will strengthen my weak faith.His word will shine light on the darkness around me.When I pray, God will work.This is the one thing that can’t be taken from me.

I think I’ll get up.

How Prayer Glorifies God

From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him. (Isaiah 64:4)

This verse took on a powerful new meaning for me in my early twenties when I was discovering new dimensions of the greatness of God. This discovery was coming in the form of teaching that God could not be served, but that he shows his power by serving us.

This was mindboggling to me. I had always taken for granted that the greatness of God consisted in his right to demand service. And, of course, in one sense, that’s true. After all, didn’t Paul call himself a “servant of the Lord” over and over?

But what about Acts 17:25? “God is not served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything.” And what about Mark 10:45? “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

These verses clobbered me.

The Son does not want to be served, but to serve? God does not want to be served, but to give all people everything? Then there were verses like 2 Chronicles 16:9. “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him.” God is searching for people for whom he can show his strength.

And then Isaiah 64:4: “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.” The old Revised Standard Version, in which I originally memorized it, said, “…who works for those who wait for him.” Yes. Amazing. God never hangs out a “Help Wanted” sign. His sign is always: “Strong Help Available.”

It all began to make sense. God aims to glorify himself in everything he does. And the glory of his self-sufficient power and wisdom shines most brightly not when he looks like he depends on the work of others, but when he makes plain that he himself does the work. He has the broad shoulders.

And what makes this so amazing for prayer is that he virtually invites us to load him down with our burdens: “Do not be anxious about anything, but . . . let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6). “Cast all your anxieties on him . . . .” (1 Peter 5:7). This invitation takes on tremendous power when we see God’s glory is at stake.

If we come to him thinking he needs our help, we make him look needy. But if we remember that his strength is shown in working for us, then we are motivated to come with new confidence. Okay, Lord, here is my impossible situation. Please show yourself strong. Help me.

Waiting for the Lord means turning to him for help rather than turning first to man. Then, patiently, we trust him to act in his time. Those who do so are those for whom he promises to work. “The Lord works for those who wait for him.”

I need thee, O I need thee;
Every hour I need thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to thee.

I Will Not Let You Go Unless You Bless Me

Is there a fear staring you in the face right now? Are you finding your faith in God’s promise shaking? If so, you are likely praying desperately for God to be with you. God will answer you. But you might, like Jacob in Genesis 32, be surprised by his answer.

Jacob leaned on his staff, staring at the stars. He was looking for hope. “Number the stars, if you are able to number them. So shall your offspring be” (Genesis 15:5). Yahweh had promised this to Father Abraham.  

Jacob’s body was tired, but his mind was restless. Daylight was approaching and Esau with it.

He wrapped himself tighter in his cloak and squatted down. He was cold and the fire had cooled to glowing coals. He stared at the ground. “Your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth” (Genesis 28:14). Yahweh had promised this to him two decades ago when all he carried to Haran was this staff.

Now he was returning home with eleven sons and a daughter. A God-blessed abundance of offspring, even if not yet the dust of the earth.

But Esau was coming. And four hundred men with him. Hadn’t the fire of revenge cooled after twenty years? Four hundred! More than enough to turn his beloved children into the dust of the earth.  

He prayed desperately. O God of my father Abraham, God of my father Isaac, deliver me from Esau! You commanded me, “return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred.” And you promised, “I will be with you” (Genesis 31:3). Yahweh! Four hundred men will wipe us out! Please! I need you with me!

Just then he heard splashing. He looked up, squinting toward the Jabbok. A man was crossing the ford, heading toward him. He didn’t recognize the determined gait. Jacob stood. Fear shot through him. Esau? No. He knew Esau’s stride. But he wasn’t relieved. He knew this man was coming for him.

The stranger stopped three feet in front of Jacob. He looked strong. His eyes were intense and inscrutable. Neither man spoke. Jacob felt a familiar fear. But he couldn’t place it. Had they met before?

Instinctively Jacob began to raise his staff in defense. With startling speed the man wrenched it away and threw it aside. Jacob was more confused. What did he want? Then the stranger struck a stance every Semite boy would recognize. Wrestling was an ancient martial art. This silent adversary wanted a contest. Jacob was perplexed, but knew he had no choice.

The men circled twice eying each other. Then a twitch, an adrenaline rush, and the two locked in grappled combat. This nameless foe was powerful. Yet Jacob was surprised at his ability to counter him.

But the longer they struggled the more Jacob sensed that his opponent was no mere man. He now placed the familiar fear. It was what he felt at every encounter with Yahweh. And he began to understand that this wrestling was somehow connected to all that lay ahead of him tomorrow. Who was this? An angel? Was it God? Was this struggle an answered prayer?

The men broke apart, each leaning on his knees to catch his breath. They shared a glance of recognition. And a desperate resolve formed in Jacob. Having been a deceiver living among deceivers, he had learned that God was the only rock that could support his trust. And the only real source of his hope was God’s promised blessing. His life depended on it, now more than ever. God was now within his grasp. Jacob would not let him leave without his blessing.

The stranger’s attention suddenly turned to the horizon. Light was glowing over the eastern hills. And Jacob saw his moment. Darting quickly he seized his opponent from behind and locked his hands around his chest. The challenger tried to free himself but Jacob held fast. Then he swung his fist down on Jacob’s right hip. Jacob screamed as the pain exploded. His leg gave way. But his grip did not. He could endure pain, but not this day without God’s blessing.

For the first time the man spoke: “Let me go, for the day has broken.”1 Jacob wincing hard whispered through clenched teeth, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” Instantly he felt the man yield. The contest was over. “What is your name?” the man asked. “Jacob,” came a groan. “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.”

Jacob crumpled to the ground and grabbed his hip. Striven with God? Panting, he said, “Please tell me your name.” The man’s eyes were intense with affection. He said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And with that he turned and crossed back over the Jabbok.

Jacob began the night believing his greatest need was to escape from Esau. He ended the night believing his greatest need was to trust in the blessing of God’s promise. And what changed him from fearing man to trusting God’s word was prolonged and painful wrestling with God.

Sometimes, in your battle with unbelief, your greatest Ally will wrestle you — he might even make you limp — until you’re desperate enough to say, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” It is a great mercy to be brought to the point where you’re desperate enough to insist on what you need the most.

1The quotes in the last two paragraphs of the narrative are from Genesis 32:26–29, English Standard Version.

Jesus Sings

Jesus sings.

If Scripture didn’t say it, I wouldn’t either. But it’s true. In four places in Scripture we read that Jesus, the Son of God himself, raised his voice in worship.1

Which is immediately confusing on one level. It's not that there's anything wrong with singing, just that I imagine our Savior much better suited as the silent recipient of adoration and worship (Revelation 5:6–14). But he also sings. And the only way to understand why Jesus sings is to briefly walk through all four passages (here split into three categories).

Both passages are brief. We read that Jesus sang a hymn with the disciples at the conclusion of the Lord’s Supper. It was just before he set out to pray on the Mount of Olives. In their fellowship, Jesus lifted up his voice and sang a hymn, a customary finale to a Passover meal together. And that’s it. The biblical writers have little more to say about it.

Very likely this song was some portion of Psalm 114–118, and very likely it was sung antiphonally, meaning Jesus led the men by singing a line, and the disciples responded by singing a “Hallelujah.” Back and forth they responsively marched through a psalm in song.2 Given the profoundly messianic lyrics, and the timing of the meal, I imagine it was a memorable evening of sober theological reflection.

But most of the details about the song and how they sung it are left unsaid.

Jesus sang. We know that much.

In this next passage we find a New Testament writer quoting a line from a rich messianic psalm, Psalm 22:22. The psalm seems to be used to illustrate the solidarity of the incarnate Christ and believers.

Apparently embedded in Christ's incarnation is his commitment to participate in community worship. And if this is true, it helps to explain his commitment to local synagogues during his ministry. But this may also help explain why Jesus sings with his disciples. At the Lord’s Supper, he raised his voice in worship of his Father, and by this he actively engaged in the disciples’ humanity. He shared their life, participating in their human experience (Hebrews 2:14).

He sang to make possible his unique, substitutionary work on the cross. Christ was not ashamed to stand beside us. He was not ashamed to become our brother (Hebrews 2:11). What inconceivable mercy that he was not ashamed to suffer and die for us! His participation with humanity qualifies him to suffer as our punitive and substitutionary sacrifice (Hebrews 2:10).

Jesus, as the perfect worshipper, sang hymns to the Father. As we will see in a moment, he continues to sing hymns to the Father. But here we need to see that Jesus sang because he is our Brother.

In this final text, the Apostle Paul also cites from the Old Testament a line from David and his psalm of thanksgiving (Psalm 18:49). But in the Old Testament language we discover a singer engaged in more than a solo. Here the singing includes an instrument, and David takes a role similar to that of a worship leader (?????). Again, a corporate theme emerges here.

Of course any Jewish worship leader could lead the Jewish nation in worship. But this worship leader has set his sights on something larger, on leading worship among all the Gentile nations. This worship leader will not sing in spite of the Gentiles, but he will sing among the Gentiles.

Paul is speaking about Christ by his reference to Psalm 18:49. The resurrected Christ is a victor and has taken his place as a global worship leader. “According to Paul’s citation, the risen Messiah confesses and praises the divine name among the Gentiles, bringing them salvation,” writes Mark Seifrid, a Bible scholar. “Behind and before the single mouth by which believing Jews and Gentiles glorify God (Romans 15:6) is the mouth of the Messiah, who makes known the name of God to them (Romans 15:9).”3

So Christ fulfills a two-directional ministry as our mediator:

Jesus mediates our relationship with God (God-to-man).Jesus mediates all our worship of God (man-to-God).

This twofold mediating work of Christ is inseparable.

God is worshipped around the globe as a result of the all-sufficient work of the resurrected Christ. In this way, Jesus is the Perfect Worshipper of his Father. And from heaven he fulfills the role of Chief Worship Leader of the global church.

Behind the corporate worship in our local church, and behind the global worship of the nations, is our mediator, our Brother, the Perfect Worshipper, and our perfect Worship Leader. We are united to Christ, and in him all our worship is brought together into one global choir to the praise of the Father.4

Jesus sang.

Jesus still sings.

Can you hear him?

1 For the technical exegesis behind this conclusion see Vern Sheridan Poythress, "Ezra 3, Union With Christ, And Exclusive Psalmody" Westminster Theological Journal, 37/1 (Fall 1974), 73–94.
2 D. A. Carson, "Matthew," The Expositor's Bible Commentary (Zondervan, 1984), 8:539.
3 In G. K. Beale and D. A. Carson, Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (Baker Academic, 2007), 689.
4 The concluding summary paragraphs are largely developed from the writings of John Calvin, Edmond Clowney, and from Reggie Kidd’s book, With One Voice: Discovering Christ's Song in Our Worship (Baker, 2005).

Marriage in the Cosmic Plan of God

How easy is it to detach our marriages from the finished work of Christ?

Very easy.

Tragically easy.

This may be due to living in a society where marriage is ever pressed into molds defined by the increasing unbelief around us, rather than biblical revelation. The very definition of marriage in our day has increasingly taken the feel of Play-Doh, all squishy and moldable in political debates and water-cooler conversations.

But no redefinition of marriage can touch the ultimate reality of God’s design. God has chosen to weave marriages — our marriages — into the most profound theological realities this universe has ever seen. To enter into a Christian marriage is to enter into the drama of Christ’s cosmos-altering victory.

But do our marriages reflect this? Does my own marriage reflect this?

We ask these questions because there’s nothing automatic about living out biblical priorities. As a Christian husband, I evaluate my role as a leader by asking two very important questions:

How am I called to lead in my marriage in a way only possible because Jesus Christ died on the cross for me, was raised from the dead for me, and now lives in me? How does my role as a husband reflect the cosmic-altering work of Christ?

These incredibly important questions force me to think seriously about the way truly Christian theology shapes my marriage. And those questions force me back into the book of Ephesians, where Paul embroiders marriage onto the tapestry of the perfect work of Christ, a King whose resurrection marks the beginning of the reunion of the sin-splintered cosmos (Ephesians 1:10).

In Ephesians, we discover Christ’s restorative power at four levels:

Christ defeated the cosmic powers of evil to become the focal point of everything.Christ inaugurated a new creation.Christ is now restoring first-creation patterns.Christ is now restoring the relational harmony unraveled by the chaos and discord of sin.

This is how Ephesians trains us to think of the finished, cosmic-altering scope of Christ’s work.

But there’s good reason to think Paul converges all of these themes when the topic of marriage emerges in Ephesians 5:22–33. Let me explain it with four corresponding points, each loaded with a summation of what I see in Ephesians:

Because Christ bled and defeated evil, and because he has become the cosmic center of all things, it is now possible for a husband and wife to live out a harmonious, self-giving, complementarian marriage under the Lordship of Christ.Because Christ bled, he has inaugurated the new creation, and a husband and wife who live out a harmonious complementarian marriage are now a microcosm of the Spirit-filled life and a unity of the new-creation people of God.Because Christ bled, he is restoring first-creation patterns, and a husband and wife who live out a harmonious complementarian marriage are a living illustration of the restorative power of the Second Adam in redeeming God’s original design for marriage.Because Christ bled, he is restoring relational harmony and enabling unity, and a husband and wife who live out a harmonious complementarian marriage are a living microcosm of the gospel’s power to unify a sin-splintered humanity.

In the gospel, our marriages find their proper cosmic context.

Now, it will take more than a few moments reading a post like this to actually shape our perspective of marriage. It will require careful meditation as we prayerfully read the entire book of Ephesians and it will require the help of the Holy Spirit.

But the potential payoff is big.

As men and women who live out God-given roles, we discover Christ’s cosmic work is reflected inside our homes. This God-honoring marriage then shines like a light in our neighborhoods to announce to the rulers and principalities the victory of Christ. Christ-honoring marriages are a living proof of the cosmic victory of Christ.

So it becomes critically important for every Christian husband and every Christian wife to think about these connections. This is theology for our homes. It’s not enough to ask what biblical husbandhood and biblical wifehood is supposed to look like, as though we can abstract these roles from Christ. Merely addressing a husband’s role (headship) and a wife’s role (submission) is not enough, because Ephesians will never allow us to live in marriages abstracted from the cosmic-altering gospel.

In moving forward on these topics, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done in my own life and marriage, and I suspect you may feel the same. So today on the blog we are setting aside some space to address this topic from multiple angles.

First, to more closely connect our own Christian marriages to the finished work of Christ, and particularly to see the connection in the flow of Ephesians, I wrote the article “Marriage in the Cosmic Plan of God.” It was published in The Journal for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood 17/2 (Fall, 2012). In this post, I can only briefly introduce the theme, but you can download the entire 8,500-word article for free here (PDF). It provides much more detail.

Second, Gloria Furman is thinking along these lines as a wife, and she writes about it in a post titled “A Wife’s Submission in the Cosmic Plan of Christ,” which will be published on the blog at noon.

And finally, we cap the day with a new episode of the Authors on the Line podcast: “How Christ’s Cosmic Victory Guides Our Marriages: An Interview with Bible Scholar G. K. Beale.” Dr. Beale has been thinking along these lines for many years, and he recently articulated the connections between Christ’s cosmic work and marriage in his book A New Testament Biblical Theology (Baker Academic, 2011).

These resources are all attempts to address the underlying issues in the complementarian/egalitarian debate through a Christ-centered cosmic worldview, the very worldview too often lost and forgotten in debates like this one.

But even more importantly, we pray these resources will help Christian men and women embrace roles of leadership and submission that push us far beyond our natural skills and abilities, that require us to depend on the power of the Holy Spirit, to display the selflessness of the Savior, and to reflect his cosmic victory over sin.

To this end, Christian husbands and Christian wives continue to press.

This post is part of a larger study of marriage in light of Christ’s finished work. Here's the entire series —

MLK’s Dream and the Nightmare of Black Genocide

Black genocide.

That’s Clenard Childress’s term for abortion in America and its pervasive effects in the last generation, especially in the Black community. The statistics are outrageous. One in four African Americans conceived in the last forty years have been cut down by the “black genocide” of legal abortion.

A decade ago Childress founded a website by and for African Americans (blackgenocide.org) “to expose the disproportionate amount of Black babies destroyed by the abortion industry. For every two African American women that get pregnant, one will choose to abort.”

The site laments that “a Black baby is 5 times more likely to be killed in the womb than a White Baby.” Childress says, “The most dangerous place for an African American to be is in the womb of their African American mother.”

For Childress and a growing number, the point is clear: Abortion in America is a race issue.

King Today, Roe Tomorrow

It’s not unfitting to highlight such an atrocity on the day the United States remembers the man who gave his life for the African American right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Thirty years ago, in 1983, president Ronald Reagan signed into law the federal holiday honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. on the third Monday of January. January 21 is the latest the day falls — as it does this year — which puts the day back to back with the January 22 anniversary of Roe v. Wade.

King was assassinated in 1968. It was only five years later, in 1973 — forty years ago tomorrow — that the Roe case made abortion legal in the United States. And as Childress and others have sought to highlight, abortion has not been an equal opportunity killer in the last generation.

Again, roughly one in four African Americans, who otherwise might be alive today, have been consumed in the holocaust of legal abortion. Because of the disproportionate number of Blacks who have been aborted, it’s difficult not to make the connection between King’s dream and the nightmare of abortion, and ask, Have not the last 40 years of Roe significantly undermined the cause that King so tirelessly gave himself to until 1968?

And is it not a terrible irony and tragedy that in the very pinnacle of realizing King’s dream — Obama being the first Black president — we have an administration actively perpetuating the industry that has claimed the lives of one in four African Americans since King? As one Black man says in the 3801 Lancaster documentary, “Everything that was ever gained during the Civil Rights Movement is worth nothing to a dead Black child,” and as one Black woman proclaims, “Make no mistake, abortion is a civil rights issue.”

Linking Lynching and Abortion

In January of 2007, John Piper sought to make the point in a sermon. Here’s Piper’s full disclosure from the beginning of that message, entitled “When Is Abortion Racism?”:

Let me tell you one of my main aims in this message: In the name of Jesus Christ and rooted in the gospel of his death and resurrection for sinners (including abortionists and pastors), my aim is to stigmatize abortion by associating it with racism. I would like you to link abortion and race the same way you link lynching and race. . . .

Racism might — and often did — result in the killing of innocent humans; in our history, it often did. But abortion always results in the killing of innocent humans. Between 1882 and 1968, 3,446 Black people were lynched in America. Today more Black babies are killed by white abortionists every three days than all who were lynched in those years.

King’s Dream to End Abortion

But it’s not just Childress and Piper making the connection between King’s dream and the nightmare of abortion. King’s own niece, Dr. Alveda C. King, has captured the irony — and tragedy — as articulately as anyone. She loves the dream her uncle had, and has her own as well.

We have been fueled by the fire of “women’s rights,” so long that we have become deaf to the outcry of the real victims whose rights are being trampled upon, the babies and the mothers. . . .

What about the rights of each baby who is artificially breached before coming to term in his or her mother’s womb, only to have her skull punctured, and feel, yes agonizingly “feel” the life run out of her before she takes her first breath of freedom. What about the rights of these women who have been called to pioneer the new frontiers of the new millennium only to have their lives snuffed out before the calendar even turns?

Oh, God, what would Martin Luther King, Jr., who dreamed of having his children judged by the content of their characters do if he’d lived to see the contents of thousands of children’s skulls emptied into the bottomless caverns of the abortionists pits?

It is time for America, perhaps the most blessed nation on earth to lead the world in repentance, and in restoration of life! . . . Abortion is at the forefront of our destruction.

How Can the Dream Survive?

King continues,

[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] once said, “The Negro cannot win as long as he is willing to sacrifice the lives of his children for comfort and safety.” How can the “Dream” survive if we murder the children? Every aborted baby is like a slave in the womb of his or her mother. . . . If the Dream of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is to live, our babies must live. Our mothers must choose life. If we refuse to answer the cry of mercy from the unborn, and ignore the suffering of the mothers, then we are signing our own death warrants.

I too, like Martin Luther King, Jr., have a dream. I have a dream that the men and women, the boys and girls of America will come to our senses, and humble ourselves before God Almighty and pray for mercy, and receive His healing grace. I pray that this is the day, the hour of our deliverance. May God have mercy on us all.

A Prayer for Life Among the Minorities

Piper closes his sermon with this final plea, and then (in italics below) this final prayer. Please join with us in this prayer today and tomorrow as King’s day and the 40th anniversary of Roe happen back to back.

Planned Parenthood is the largest abortion provider in America. They were founded by Margaret Sanger whose “Negro Project” in the 1930s was designed to reduce the births of black children . . . . Today 78% of Planned Parenthood clinics are in minority communities. . . . Every day 1,300 black babies are killed in America. Seven hundred Hispanic babies die every day from abortion.

Call this what you will — when the slaughter has an ethnic face and the percentages are double that of the white community and the killers are almost all white, something is going on here that ought to make the lovers of racial equality and racial harmony wake up. . . .

O that the murderous effect of abortion in the Black and Latino communities, destroying tens of thousands at the hands of white abortionists, would explode with the same reprehensible reputation as lynching. May the Lord raise up from the African-American churches and the Hispanic-American churches a passion to seize the moral high ground against the slaughter of the little ones. Such leadership would sweep the field, and the white pro-choice establishment would fall before it. May it happen in the name of Christ and for his glory and for the good of all people until the Lord of glory comes. Amen.

Presidential Inaugurations and the Providence of God

At his second inauguration, Abraham Lincoln stood before a nation in civil war, deeply divided over great moral and political issues.

Citizens of both North and South feared God and thought they were in the right, but God had not yet given victory to either side. Rather, the war raged on at great cost to both.

What would Lincoln say to this polarized nation in the midst of such sorrow, anger, and confusion?

At the Outset of Lincoln’s Second

Rather than use his address to muster nationalistic pride, commend himself, or boast in his plans for the future, Lincoln turned his mind, and those of his hearers, to the will of God.

“The Almighty has His own purposes,” Lincoln said. Then, quoting Matthew 18:7, he considered the sovereignty of God over the long-time offense of American slavery and the present woe of the Civil War:

“Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.” If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him?

Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said “the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.”

Lincoln saw no contradiction between the goodness of God and the terrors of the American Civil War. Rather, he surmised that the Civil War was a direct expression of God’s goodness, the carrying out of his justice upon a nation that had long denied justice to a great number of her people.

The sovereign and good judgments of God were a guide to Lincoln, a “true and righteous” rock in the midst of a tragic and turbulent time. And as president of the United States, he offered this same comfort and hope to his fellow citizens.

At the Outset of Obama’s Second

As President Barack Obama has just undergone his second inauguration, America stands at a similar place as in Lincoln’s day. We are a nation deeply divided over great moral and political issues, and, though not in civil war, a variety of other crises surround us: economic instability, political gridlock, the social evils of abortion and widespread sexual immorality, the dangers of terrorism, and more. What is your soul’s response to this situation? Are you afraid, indignant, angry, confused, despairing, or doubting?

The greatness of Lincoln’s speech is that, in pointing to God, it is timelessly applicable. Just as the providence and goodness of our Maker were a comfort and a surety to Lincoln, so too can we be comforted, encouraged, and controlled by the truths of God today, whether our politicians or fellow citizens acknowledge them or not.

President Obama and everyone who is in power, whether in the U.S. or abroad, have been instituted by God as the agents through whom he will do his good and perfect will (Romans 13:1). It is for us to rest in this knowledge and to pray for these leaders, that through them God would enable peace so that the gospel may spread and many more come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Timothy 2:1–4).

And as appreciative as we are to be citizens of such a great nation as the United States, it is ours to celebrate even more that we are citizens of God’s heavenly Kingdom, that Jesus is our eternal King, reigning in love and righteousness, and that his Kingdom is forever.

Raise Your Hand If You Agree

I have no good memories of third-grade math.

To be honest, I don’t remember most of my elementary school days, but math in Mrs. Smith’s classroom is strangely familiar. Maybe it is because that’s where a school subject first became hard for me, or because the homework was such a drag. Or, actually, it may be because third-grade math was the first time I realized I was a crock.

It happened like this. Soon I noticed my friends were picking up math quicker than I was. I can’t recall the exact lessons — just that I wasn’t good at them. And everyday, during that math hour, Mrs. Smith would have students step up front and rehearse homework problems on the board. My classmates would write out the problem and swiftly solve it. They would carry numbers here and make a few notes there, and voila! — the answer.

But what seared this exercise into my memory was that after every answer was offered, Mrs. Smith would ask the rest of the class if they had the same answer. “Raise your hand,” she would say. “Raise your hand if you agree.”

I don’t know that my real answer ever lined up, and to me it didn’t matter. When she asked for the class consensus, I would simply swallow the knot in my throat and scan the arms in the air around me. If there were enough hands held high, and the key kids were in (you know, the smart ones), I’d stick my hand up too. I didn’t really know what I was doing, or what I really thought, but I passed as if I did. It was a hollow agreement, a conviction by association. It was the same problem I fear persists today with many Christians who call themselves pro-life.

According to the statistics, 1.2 million abortions are performed each year in the United States. But we should not assume that 1.2 million abortions mean that all 1.2 million women are pro-choice. The numbers showing the racial inequality that exists in the abortion industry are outrageous. Most abortions occur with women who are minorities (66%), economically disadvantaged (69%), and live below the poverty line (42%). But none of these are 100%. Of course, abortions also occur with white women (34%), and those who are not economically disadvantaged (31%), and those who actually identify themselves as born-again Christians (13%).

Thirteen percent equals 156,000 women a year. Which means, there are quite a few girls who probably come from evangelical families, attend an evangelical church, say they are pro-life, and still have abortions.

To be clear, the point here is not to overdo the demographics behind abortion. I hate abortion of every kind, and I want it to end everywhere. I don’t intend to draw attention to the fact that self-attested Christians have abortions, as if that’s the epidemic upon which we should focus. The point I want to make, the epidemic of which I lament, is that our pro-life convictions too often prove too shallow.

Hopefully the above numbers get our attention and overturn the thinking that assumes the problem is “out there.” Hopefully these numbers make us realize that more than a few folks sitting next to us on Sunday mornings are just like me in third-grade math. They raise their hand because that’s what everyone else in the room does. They pass by (and even vote) like they have a conviction. But they really don’t. They — you? — have a conviction by association, a conviction that flakes the first moment the issue gets real for them. Ignorance is still a problem, even among those who are supposed to know. For not all who are identified as pro-life belong to pro-life. And I believe it would make a difference if all who said they were really were, like deeply and truly really were.

So then what do we do?

Let's deepen our conviction. We should be better at resourcing than rhetoric. It can do some good to hold up signs and state the stats, but all slogan and no substance won’t last. We may get attention from outside the church, but we won’t help the reluctant inside. As one pro-life apologist points out, “for too long the pro-life movement has been shouting conclusions rather than establishing facts.” We need to be clear about the humanity of the unborn and the inhumanity of abortion. One means to do this is the wise use of abortion pictures1, along with several other resources, whether specific ministries, important books2, or corporate study material. Our churches should have these and run the gamut in their use, from just making them available to starting regular reading groups. The hope is to really know and believe the truth, such as when life begins and why it matters.

Let’s have the conversations, which involves life outside of formal settings. The rights of unborn children should be a familiar topic among our friends. We shouldn’t assume that every Christian we know has a robust view on life, or even that our own stance is fully matured. We should talk about it. Bring it up. Make this an injustice that you expressively feel and want to influence others in. Brainstorm ways you can help in your communities and mobilize a team to make something happen, as small as it may seem.

Let's love, truly love, single mothers, which means stepping up in tangible ways for women who find themselves unexpectedly expecting. This means partnering with pregnancy support centers, building real friendships, mentoring, and more. This can be a complex issue, especially when some fear that support for such pregnancies condone the fornication behind them. To be sure, sometimes it can. But it doesn’t have to, and it shouldn’t. Believing fornication is sin and that every life matters doesn’t form two opposing truths, despite their causality relationship. We must love single mothers without a stigma on their situation. The church must be clear on what sin is, but scarlet letters are not in the gospel’s alphabet. This plea has even greater urgency in some Christian subcultures, like the Belt where I grew up. It would not have been voiced, but the silent consensus suggested that the guilt of abortion is preferred over the shame of unwed parenting. Loving single mothers means the stigma must go. Love is not plausible words, but power.

And power is what we need. Power is what we need if our conviction is real, and not just raising hands.

1For a realistic look at abortion, see abortionNO.org (Gregg Cunningham) and thecaseforlife.com (Scott Klusendorf).

2Justin Taylor recommends three books, organized by beginner level to advanced: 1) Stand for Life: A Student's Guide for Making the Case and Saving Lives, by John Ensor and Scott Klusendorf (Hendrickson, 2012); 2) The Case for Life: Equipping Christians to Engage the Culture, by Scott Klusendorf (Crossway, 2009); 3) Defending Life: A Moral and Legal Case against Abortion Choice, by Francis Beckwith (Oxford University Press, 2007).

Retreat or Risk?

Retreat or risk?

Throughout redemptive history, that question has confronted God's people. As John Piper references in the pages of the new book Risk Is Right (Crossway, 2013), it was the decision facing the Israelites on a crucial day at Kadesh Barnea. Standing on the brink of the Promised Land, with the guarantee of God within their grasp, they ran from risk and chose to retreat. Instead of staking their lives on the faithfulness of God, they recoiled in fear. The cost was great, and the Lord left an entire generation to waste away in a wilderness until they died.

Fast-forward a few thousand years, and you come to the people of God standing in a similar moment. We live in a world where half the population is living on less than two dollars a day, and over a billion people dwell in desperate poverty. Such physical need is only surpassed by spiritual poverty. Billions of people are engrossed in the worship of false gods, and approximately two billion of those people are still unreached with the gospel, meaning that they have little chance of even hearing about the sacrifice of Christ for their sins before they die. Most of the unreached live in hard-to-reach areas of the world that are hostile to Christians — areas of the world where our brothers and sisters are presently being persecuted, imprisoned, and killed.

Though the challenges facing the church are great, the commission Christ has given is clear: make disciples of all the nations. Spend your lives spreading the gospel of God for the glory of God to the ends of the earth. As you go, trust in his sovereign authority, depend on his indwelling presence, and experience his incomparable joy.

As we stand at our Kadesh Barnea, we have a choice. We, too, can retreat into a wilderness of wasted opportunity. We can rest content in casual, convenient, cozy, comfortable Christian lives as we cling to the safety and security this world offers. We can coast through a cultural landscape marked by materialism, characterized by consumerism, and engulfed in individualism. We can assent to the spirit of this age and choose to spend our lives seeking worldly pleasures, acquiring worldly possessions, and pursuing worldly ambitions — all under the banner of cultural Christianity.

Or we can decide that Jesus is worth more than this. We can recognize that he has created us, saved us, and called us for a much greater purpose than anything this world could ever offer us. We can die to ourselves, our hopes, our dreams, our ambitions, our priorities, and our plans. We can do all of this because we believe that the person and the plan of Christ bring reward that makes any risk more than worth it.

In Matthew 13:44 Jesus tells his disciples, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.”

I love this picture. Imagine walking in a field and stumbling upon a treasure that is more valuable than anything else you could work for or find in this life. It is more valuable than all you have now or will ever have in the future. You look around and notice that no one else realizes the treasure is here, so you cover it up quickly and walk away, pretending you haven't seen anything. You go into town and begin to sell off all your possessions to have enough money to buy that field. The world thinks you're crazy.

“What are you thinking?” your friends and family ask you.

You tell them, “I'm buying that field over there.”

They look at you in disbelief. “That's foolish,” they say. “Why are you giving away everything you have to buy that field?”

You respond, “I have a hunch,” and you smile to yourself as you walk away. You smile because you know that in the end any risk that others perceive is nothing compared to the reward you will receive. So with joy — with joy! — you sell it all. Why? Because you have found something worth losing everything else for.

This is the picture of Jesus in the gospel. He is something — someone — worth losing everything for. When we really believe this, then risking everything we are and everything we have, to know and obey Christ is no longer a matter of sacrifice. It's just common sense. To let go of the pursuits, possessions, pleasures, safety, and security of this world in order to follow Jesus wherever he leads, no matter what it costs, is not sacrificial as much as it is smart. In the words of Jim Elliot, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

I praise God for John Piper and the way he has shown me and countless others the supremacy of Christ. I was in college when I heard my first Piper sermon, entitled “Christ Died for God.” I was compelled by a captivating, biblical vision of a God-centered God, and I began to realize in a fresh way that the ultimate reason for my existence is God's exaltation. Moreover, I began to recognize that my greatest joy is indeed found in God's greatest glory, and Christ is clearly a treasure worth losing and letting go of everything for. This is a central theme (maybe the central theme) of Scripture and is the predominant truth that pervades John Piper's ministry, which is why this book by him on risk makes so much sense.

I pray that God will use it, along with a host of other things, to raise up an army of pastors, missionaries, church leaders, and church members who are fearless in the face of risk because they realize that in Christ, even death is reward. In view of God's great glory above us and in light of the world's great need around us, retreat is unquestionably wrong. For the good of our souls and for the glory of our Savior, risk is most assuredly right.

Staying Faithful When Things Get Worse

Genesis chapters 37–41 only tell the low and high points of Joseph’s Egyptian slavery and imprisonment. But he spent at least 12 years there before he suddenly became the Egyptian Prime Minister. And during that terribly lonely, desolate time, things seemed to go from bad to worse. Imagine what Joseph might have experienced at about year nine into his sojourn.

Darkness had swallowed the light again. Joseph dreaded the night in this foul Egyptian hellhole. It was hard to fight off the relentless hopelessness as he waited the escape of sleep.

Day after monotonous day passed with no sign of change. The familiar desperation surged hot in his chest. His youth was seeping out the cracks of his cage. He was pacing in his soul. Joseph wanted to scream.

Fists to his forehead he pleaded again with God in the dark for deliverance.

And he remembered. It was the remembering that kept his hope alive and bitterness at bay.

He rehearsed the stories of God that had filled him with awe as a child. God had promised Great-grandfather Abraham, a child by his barren wife. But he made them wait an agonizing 25 years before giving them Grandfather Isaac. And God had promised Grandmother Rebekah that her older twin, Uncle Esau, would serve the younger twin, Father Jacob. But God had mysteriously woven human deception and immorality into his plan to make that happen.

Jacob’s smile filled Joseph’s mind. Oh Father! He covered his mouth to choke back his sobs. It had been nine years since he last saw that dear face. Would he ever see it again? Was Father still alive?

He felt something crawl across his leg. Leaping up, he brushed himself off. He shook out the mat. A shiver ran down his spine. Joseph hated spiders.

Lying back down, he remembered how Father Jacob had been caught in his Uncle Laban’s manipulative web for 20 long years. Yet God was faithful to his word and eventually delivered Jacob and brought him back to the Promised Land a wealthy man.

And then there were those strange dreams he had had. They had been unusually powerful, unlike any other dreams before or since. He felt ambivalent about them. They likely were the reason he was now in an Egyptian jail. His brothers’ envy of his father’s favor turned homicidal when he inferred that he had God’s favor as well.

Distant screams let Joseph know another fight had broken out in the barracks. It made him grateful for his private cell, the favor bestowed on the chief scribe to the warden.

He smiled at the irony of this “favor.” Favor in a prison. His brothers would love this if they only knew. He seemed about as far away from what those dreams foretold as he could be.

Yet, as foolish as it seemed right now, Joseph could not shake the deep conviction that God meant to bring those dreams to pass. And he could not deny the strange pattern he saw in God’s dealings with his forebears. God made stunning promises and then ordained time and circumstances to work in such ways as to make the promises seem impossible to fulfill. And then God moved.

The common thread Joseph traced through all the stories, the one thing God seemed to honor and bless more than anything else, was faith. Great-grandfather Abraham believed God’s word. Grandfather Isaac believed God’s word. Grandmother Rebekah believed God’s word. Father Jacob believed God’s word. They all believed even when it didn’t look like God’s word was going to come true. And all of them ultimately saw God’s faithfulness to his promises, despite circumstances and their own failings.

Faith-fueled peace doused the anxious fire in Joseph’s chest. “I believe you, my God,” he whispered. “Like my forefathers, I will wait for you. I have no idea what my being in an Egyptian prison has to do with your purposes. But I will keep honoring you here where you have placed me. Bring your word to pass as it seems best to you. I am yours. Use me!”

In the biblical account it’s tempting to only see Joseph’s heroic character and achievements. But God does not want us to miss the largely silent, desperate years Joseph endured.

Imagine the pain of his brothers’ betrayal, the separation from his father, the horror of slavery, the seduction and false accusation by Potiphar’s wife, and the desperation he felt as his youth passed away in prison.

Sometimes faithfulness to God and his word sets us on a course where circumstances get worse, not better. It is then that knowing God’s promises and his ways are crucial. Faith in God’s future grace for us is what sustains us in those desperate moments.

We all love the fairytale ending of Joseph’s story. And we should, because Joseph’s life is a foreshadowing of a heavenly reality. God sent his Son to die and be raised in order to set his children “free indeed” (John 8:36). There is coming a day when those who are faithful, even to death (Revelation 2:10) will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master” (Matthew 25:21).

Our current circumstances, however dismal or successful, are not our story’s end. They are chapters in a much larger story that really does have a happily ever after.

This meditation is included in the forthcoming book Not by Sight: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Walking by Faith (Crossway, April 30, 2013).

The Irony of the Epiphany

January 6 has long been the date the Western church has observed the Feast of the Epiphany. From the Greek for “appearance” or “manifestation” (epiphaneia), Epiphany celebrates the appearance of the Son of God among us as one of us — both fully divine and fully human — and marks the end of “the twelve days of Christmas” that begin December 25.

In particular, Epiphany has become identified with the arrival of the magi, those pagan astrologers who make their surprising appearance in Matthew 2 to worship baby Jesus.

It is not only striking in Matthew 2 that the religiously uncouth magi are seeking to worship the newborn Jewish king, but that the religious leaders of the day are not. The pagan astrologers bow their knee (verses 10–11), but the Jerusalem religious bow their back (verses 3–8). This is the great irony in the Epiphany.

Herod’s wickedness is apparent. Insecure, disturbed, deceitful, murderous — of course, he does not really intend to honor the child but to kill him. But the subtle sin of the religious leaders is perhaps just as sinister, if not more.

Verse 4 says that Herod assembled “all the chief priests [Sadducees] and scribes [Pharisees] of the people, [and] he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born.” Here are the trained theologians of the day. They know the biblical jargon. They’ve read and re-read and re-re-read the Hebrew Scriptures — and memorized them. “Where is the Messiah to be born?” It’s a piece-of-cake answer for these guys: Bethlehem. Check Micah.

This is so tragic. They know the answer, but none of them acts on it. None of the trained theologians go to Bethlehem. Dirty shepherds leave their flocks and go to the manger. Pagan astrologers traverse far, hundreds of miles and months on the road. Meanwhile, the religious leaders, full of insider jargon and Bible knowledge and pat answers, don’t bother to make the relatively short five-mile journey to Bethlehem to actually see this baby for which all their theological classes should have prepared them.

Commentator David Turner calls it “the strange indifference” of these theological-answer-guys who have amassed loads of biblical knowledge but don’t act on it. Their heads are filled with verses, doctrines, and religious facts, but their hearts reject the very Messiah to which their training should have pointed them.

Is the warning here not obvious for those of us who have taken class after class and read Christian book after Christian book? Many of us are all too familiar with the church jargon. We can say all the right things to appear pious. We’ve memorized some Scriptures. We know how to sound Christian in our repeated use of precious theological terms and concepts. But biblical training does not guarantee that our hearts are inclined toward worshiping the true king. Religious language and learning can cloak the kingdom of self.

Note the contrast between the pagan astrologers and the religious establishment. The magi don’t know much, but they rejoice exceedingly with great joy (verse 10) at the true revelation from God they have received, while the religious leaders with all the answers and books about books about books are disturbed along with Herod and refuse to submit to the long-awaited king.

“The religious leaders,” writes Turner, “replete with scriptural knowledge, react with apathy here and with antipathy later [when they crucify Jesus]. The magi, whose knowledge is quite limited, nevertheless offer genuine worship to the born-king of the Jews” (page 87).

Note this from the African Bible Commentary:

The successors of these [religious] experts would be at odds with the adult Jesus, and in the end they would conspire to put him to death. The most knowledgeable church people often include those who take Jesus for granted. It is a dangerous situation to be in. It is no less a sin than the outright hatred of Herod, for in the end it leads to the same destiny (where Herod failed to kill the baby Jesus, the chief priests succeeded). Our pride in our knowledge of Christ, the Bible, and the church may turn out to be a snare in the end. (page 1111)

So today, on this Feast of the Epiphany, here’s a reminder to the modern-day chief priests and scribes, the religious establishment, the well churched: Bible knowledge from all the classes and all the books can be precious fuel for worshiping the true Jesus, or a scary excuse for keeping Jesus at arm’s length. Increased knowledge doesn’t necessarily translate into increased worship.

And here’s an invitation for those more like the magi, the non-churched “pagan” and de-churched disenfranchised: You may not have any Christian background (or you did and rejected it, maybe because of the religious). You may not know the Christian jargon. You don’t fit nicely into the church-goer box, and yet you’re being drawn to Jesus. And the whole Christian scene may feel really foreign, but we want you with us. We want the magi. Please don’t let imperfect Christians scare you away from the perfect Christ. Let the astrologers come to Jesus, and do not forbid them, for such is the kingdom of heaven.

The Seedbed of Big-God Preaching

In December, 1744, Jonathan Edwards preached a sermon foreshadowing The End for Which God Created the World, which he completed eleven years later, three years before he died. It’s title was “Approaching the End of God’s Grand Design.”

It is the kind of sermon that draws me back again and again to Edwards to rescue me from the spiritual strangle hold of small things. It’s this kind of seeing that makes the seedbed of Big-God Theology and Big-God Preaching. You can read it here. If there was ever a day we needed Big-God Preaching it is now.

He states the Doctrine: There is a time coming when God's grand design in all his various works and dispensations from age to age will be completed and his end fully obtained.

Then he asks: “What is this one great design that God has in view in all his works and dispensations?”

And answers: “’Tis to present to his Son a spouse3 in perfect glory from amongst sinful, miserable mankind, blessing all that comply with his will in this matter and destroying all his enemies that oppose it, and so to communicate and glorify himself2 through Jesus Christ1, God-man.”

That is a very carefully crafted sentence. He explains it piece by piece. The following comments correspond to the superscript numbers above.

1. “. . . through Jesus Christ” — “The one grand medium by which God glorifies himself in all is Jesus Christ, God-man.” “God's design in all the works {of creation} is to glorify his Son, and through him to glorify himself.”

2. “. . . to communicate and glorify himself”—“God's end in the creation of the world consists in these two things, viz. to communicate himself and to glorify himself.

God created the world to communicate himself, not to receive anything. But such was the infinite goodness of God that it was his will to communicate himself, to communicate of his own glory and happiness; and he made the world to glorify himself. . . .

These two things ought [not] to be separated when we speak of God's end in the creation of the world. . . . Indeed, God's communicating himself and glorifying {himself} ought not to be looked upon as though they were two distinct ends, but as what together makes one last end, as glorifying God and enjoying {God} make one chief end of man. For God glorifies himself in communicating himself, and he communicates himself in glorifying himself.

3. “. . . to present to his Son a spouse” — The principal means by which God glorifies his Son in the world that is created is by providing him a spouse, to be presented [to] him in perfect union, in perfect purity, beauty and glory.

The way in which the eternal Son of God is glorified in the creation is by communicating himself to the creatures, not by receiving anything from the creatures. . . . And because it was a spouse to communicate his goodness to that he desired, therefore that she might be one fit not to give but receive good, one was pitched upon that was remarkably empty and poor in herself, not of the highest order of creatures, but mankind. . . fallen, miserable, helpless: a state wherein his emptiness and need of goodness did more remarkably appear.

And because the design was that Christ should communicate goodness, therefore such an one was chosen that needed that Christ should suffer, and it was the will of Christ to suffer because suffering is the greatest expression of goodness and manifestation of kindness.

The great design was that Christ in this way should procure or obtain this his spouse, bring her to come to him, present her to himself and make her perfectly beautiful, perfectly and unspeakably happy. . . . And this is the way that God the Father intended to glorify his Son.

I read this sermon for my own soul on the Lord’s Day just past. What a gift. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for opening the eyes of Jonathan Edwards. Thank you for expanding his heart to sense your greatness where most of us pass by unmoved. Thank you for preserving so much of his seeing and savoring for us. And thank you for leading me again and again back to this soul-expanding spring of life.

We Know They Are Killing Children—All of Us Know

One biblical principle of justice is that the more knowledge we have that our action is wrong, the more guilty we are, and the more deserving of punishment (Luke 12:47–48). The point of this blog post is that we know what we are doing — all America knows. We are killing children. Pro-choice and Pro-life people both know this.

But before I show that, let’s clarify what the Supreme Court did forty years ago today. In Roe v. Wade the Supreme Court in effect made abortion on demand untouchable by law. The way this was done was with two steps.

One step was to say, laws may not prevent abortion, even during the full nine months, if the abortion is “to preserve the life or health of the mother.” The other step was to define “health” as “all factors — physical, emotional, psychological, familial and the woman's age — relevant to the well-being of the patient.”

For forty years this has meant that any perceived stress is a legal ground for eliminating the child. We have killed fifty million babies. And what increases our guilt as a nation is that we know what we are doing. Here’s the evidence that we know we are killing children.

Many simply say it is the lesser of two evils. I took an abortionist out to lunch once, prepared to give him ten reasons why the unborn are human beings. He stopped me, and said, “I know that. We are killing children.” I was stunned. He said, “It’s simply a matter of justice for women. It would be a greater evil to deny women the equal right of reproductive freedom.” Which means women should be no more encumbered by the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy than men. That equal freedom from the burden of bearing unwanted children is the basis for abortion that President Obama refers to again and again when he talks about equal rights for women. We know we are killing children.

We know what we are doing because 38 States (including Minnesota) treat the killing of an unborn child as a form of homicide. They have what are called “fetal homicide laws.”

It is illegal to take the life of the unborn if the mother wants the baby, but it is legal to take the life of the unborn if she doesn’t. In the first case the law treats the fetus as a human with rights; in the second case the law treats the fetus as non-human with no rights.

Humanness is defined by the desire of the strong. Might makes right. We reject this right to define personhood in the case of Nazi anti-Semitism, Confederate race-based slavery, and Soviet Gulags. When we define the humanness of the unborn by the will of the powerful we know what we are doing.

High risk pregnancy specialist, Dr. Steve Calvin, in a letter some years ago to the Arizona Daily Star, wrote, “There is inescapable schizophrenia in aborting a perfectly normal 22 week fetus while at the same hospital, performing intra-uterine surgery on its cousin.” When the unborn are wanted, they are treated as children and patients. When they are not wanted, they are not children. We know what we are doing.

The five-foot-eight frame of a teenage son guarantees him no more right to life than the 23-inch frame of his little sister in her mother's arms. Size is morally irrelevant. One inch, 23 inches, 68 inches — does not matter. It is morally irrelevant in deciding who should be protected. We know what we are doing in killing the smallest.

A one-month-old infant, nursing at his mother's breast, does not have reasoning powers. But only a few dare argue that infanticide is therefore acceptable. Most know better. Outside and inside the womb the infant cannot yet reason, but is a human person. We know what we are doing.

Location or environment does not determine a right to life. Scott Klusendorf asks, “How does a simple journey of seven inches down the birth canal suddenly transform the essential nature of the fetus from non-person to person?” We know what we are doing.

We consider persons on respirators or dialysis to be human beings. The unborn cannot be disqualified from human personhood because they are dependent on their mother for food and oxygen. In fact, we operate on the exact opposite principle: The more dependent a little one is on us, the more responsibility we feel to protect him, not the less. We know what we are doing.

(Those last four observations, #4-7, were summed up by Scott Klusendorf under the acronym SLED: Size, Level of development, Environment, Degree of dependence — none is morally relevant for the definition of human life.)

The genetic make up of a human is different from all other creatures from the moment of conception. The human code is complete and unique from the start. Once that was not known. Now we know. 

At eight weeks of gestation all the organs are present. The brain is functioning, the heart pumping, the liver making blood cells, the kidney cleaning the fluids, the finger has a print. Yet almost all abortions happen later than this date. We know what we are doing.

The marvel of ultrasound has given a stunning window into the womb that shows the unborn, for example, at 8 weeks sucking his thumb, recoiling from pricking, responding to sound. Watch this four-minute video of the developing unborn child. We know that they are children.

We know the principle of justice that when two legitimate rights conflict, the right that protects the higher value should prevail. We deny the right to drive at 100 miles per hour because the value of life is greater than the value of being on time or getting thrills. The right of the unborn not to be killed and the right of a woman not to be pregnant may be at odds. But they are not equal rights. Staying alive is more precious and more basic than not being pregnant. We know what we are doing when we kill a child.

For Christians who believe the Bible, we could add at least ten more reasons why we know what is happening in abortion, and why it is wrong. But the aim here is threefold.

To make clear that we will not be able to defend ourselves with the claim of ignorance. We knew. All of us.To solidify our conviction to resist this horrific evil. To intensify our prayer and our preaching toward gospel-based soul-renovation in our land, because hardness of heart, not ignorance, is at the root of this carnage.

What Love for God Looks Like

The greatest commandment is to love God (Matthew 22:36–37). But what that looks like can shock us, as it did Simon in Luke 7:36–50.

He had the Holy One of Israel (Isaiah 54:5) in his house, reclining at his table. The Prophet that Moses had foretold (Deuteronomy 18:15) was sharing dinner with him. The Lord of glory, the Resurrection and the Life (John 11:25), was speaking with him face to face. The great climactic moment of history he claimed to be living for had arrived. It should have been a deliriously wonderful, breathtaking honor for Simon to host the Messiah.

But Simon was not amazed.  As he looked at Jesus, all he saw was a dusty Nazarene whose claims could be interpreted as, well, delusional.

And Jesus’ feet were still dirty. Offering foot washing to guests had been a deeply ingrained custom for Near Eastern peoples for thousands of years. To not offer it was to dishonor one’s guest. It’s not likely that Simon simply forgot.

But Jesus showed no sign of offense. And with the meal on the table, superficial pleasantries were exchanged. A few polite questions were asked.

Suddenly all eyes facing Jesus were filled with confused concern, focused toward his feet. Jesus looked back.

A woman was standing near him, clearly not part of the household. She was looking intensely at him, cradling a small jar in her hands. She began to sob and dropped to her knees. And as her tears flowed, she leaned over and let them drop on Jesus’s soiled feet and wiped them off, along with the dirt, with her hair.

Then she kissed Jesus’s feet.

Gasps and murmurs were heard around the table. This woman had a reputation known to all the local guests. It was improper even to speak openly about what had given her this reputation. She was simply called a “sinner.” Everyone knew what was packed into that word.

So everyone was mortified by her clearly inappropriate, even intimate contact. Except, apparently, Jesus. He did not seem shocked. And he did nothing to stop her.

An alarmed servant moved toward the woman but Simon waved him off. This was a revealing moment.

As Simon watched the woman pour fragrant oil from her jar on Jesus’s feet, he felt both contempt and pleasure. His appraisal of Jesus was being vindicated before his eyes. Nothing spoke more eloquently of the falseness of this so-called prophet than his stunning lack of discernment regarding this immoral woman. No holy man would have let her pollute him with her touch. He began to rehearse what he would report to the Council.

“Simon, I have something to say to you.” Jesus’s words snapped Simon’s attention back. “Say it, Teacher,” he replied.

“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.”

Then turning toward the woman Jesus said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much.”

Then looking back, penetratingly into Simon’s eyes, Jesus said, “But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” A shocked silence hung in the air.

And then with tender authority Jesus spoke to the woman: “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

As a Pharisee, Simon enjoyed a reputation as a godly man. He had significant theological education, had memorized extensive portions of Scripture, exercised rigorous self-discipline, prayed religiously, and tithed meticulously. The sorts of things men admire.

The woman’s reputation was sleazy. Her law breaking was public knowledge. No one mistook her as a servant of God. Though men had desired her, no one admired her.

Yet in front of all the dinner party guests Jesus declared that the debauched woman actually loved God much, while the ritually clean Pharisee loved God little. Why? Simply because the woman believed that she desperately needed the forgiveness Jesus offered in his gospel, while Simon did not.

“He who is forgiven little, loves little.” This little sentence reveals a mammoth truth for us: we will love God to the degree that we recognize the magnitude of our sins and the immensity of God’s grace to forgive them.

That is what Jesus is looking for. This is the kind of worshipers the Father is seeking (John 4:23).

For at its essence true worship is a passionate love for God, not moralistic rule keeping or feats of self-discipline. For sinners like us, the fuel of that love is a profound realization, in the words of former slave trader-turned-pastor, John Newton, “that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Saviour.”1

This meditation is included in the forthcoming book Not by Sight: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Walking by Faith (Crossway, April 30, 2013).

1Jonathan Aitken, John Newton: From Disgrace to Amazing Grace, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2007), 347.