The Hopes and Fears of All the Years

Bethlehem was, is, and likely always will be, just a small town — a small town steeped in ancient history.

In the first century, the historical marker at the center of town — if they posted such historical markers — would have commemorated it as the birthplace of the mighty giant killer, King David. The cherished son of Bethlehem put the town on the map 1,000 years earlier, and perhaps, perhaps, one day the village on top of the quiet hill will pull off the feat again. Dusty scrolls left by ancient prophets told of such a thing (Micah 5:2).

But tonight, silence.

The prophecies are distant memories. All is now hushed and quiet, the hope of a king only a memory muffled by the pressing priorities of life: raising grain, raising sheep, raising children, and paying taxes.

But this night the town finally sleeps, though crowded. The hustle and bustle of census travelers, returned home to be counted, now has dissipated.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.

So quiet and still and peaceful is the town, it’s hard to capture on a blog, a place where most of us read so quickly. So imagine for a moment a slower pace and quieter place. No iPods, no headphones, no surround sound. No jets, no traffic, no trains, no ambulances racing down streets. In perfect stillness, we witness a silent invasion, like a storm of chicken-feather snowflakes twisting silently to the ground, carpeting the dirty world in brilliant holiness.

And so during Advent, we slow our pace to his pace, and we read the holy story more slowly. We don’t skim. We watch the new King of Bethlehem enter into a barn-like cave to rest softly in a rough feeding furrow. In the quietness of night, the new King enters into the hay and manure of a broken world in desperate need of fixing.

This is the Christ child, who will one day die in daylight that becomes darkness. But right now he rests in Mary’s arms in a dark night that becomes starlit day. Stars and angels pierce the night’s silence.

This same Christ enters lives like he entered this barn. He enters the mess of sin, and it catches us off guard. You’re surprised? You’re not ready for him? It all seems so sudden. This is the best place to be — taken by surprise, like the little town of Bethlehem.

Advent means Christ invades where the preparations are incomplete. You’ll be tempted to first warm up the barn with space heaters. Don’t. You’ll want to sweep out the soiled hay and mouse droppings. Don’t. Don’t roll out a comfort controlled mattress or fluff a pair of feather pillows. Don’t disinfect the walls and floor with an aerosol fog of Lysol or Febreze. Don’t set out a crib with fluffy dolls and cotton onesies and baby powder. Don’t fill the bathtub with warm water and soft suds.

When the Savior draws close, there’s no time to clean up the mess of sin. He comes, not to place crisply wrapped boxes around a cleanly decorated tree. No. The Holy One lands unexpected in the middle of the stench of our lives.

It is with this thought that we are prepared to sing the final verse of the famous hymn. We cringe a bit. Maybe the lines are too individualized or too cheesy.

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today.

We hear the Christmas angels
The glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Immanuel.

But this is the message of Christmas. Here on the second Sunday of Advent, we praise Christ who broke into the stillness of a little town to descend to sinful humanity. We implore Christ to break into our lives and cast out the sin that cannot be bleached white by self-cleaning.

Why It Took Me 34 Years to Get ‘Peoples’

God created the world so that he would receive glad-hearted worship from the entire panorama of peoples that he himself brought into being for this purpose.

Therefore, for the glory of God, and for the gladness of the peoples, we should join him in the aggressive missionary enterprise of reaching all the peoples of the world.

That is what the Cross Conference this December is about. Over 3,000 students are registered so far. I am praying for twice that. It is only one small part of God’s movement in the world today to reach the nations. But it is an important part. I am thrilled to be a part of it. I hope the students of your church will come.

If it’s true that God created the world so that he would receive glad-hearted worship from all the peoples of the world, then missions is the summoning of the peoples to be glad in God. This is a happy enterprise. Yes, it is strewn with suffering and deep disappointments when many say no to the invitation. But what a privilege to announce to the nations the best news in the world. What an honor to summon them to joy: “Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you! Let the nations be glad and sing for joy” (Psalm 67:3–4). What a calling to say,

Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. . . . Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live. (Isaiah 55:1–3)

Even though some will say no to this joyful invitation, we have promises of stunning global success among all peoples. “The princes of the peoples gather as the people of the God of Abraham. For the shields of the earth belong to God; he is highly exalted!” (Psalm 47:9). “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the L???, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you” (Psalm 22:27).

Does the language of peoples sound natural or strange to you? It was not natural to me for 34 years. Then Ralph Winter introduced me to the biblical category of “peoples.” All I remember hearing for my first three decades was mission “fields.” Few people spoke of peoples. Now everywhere you turn, missions-minded folks speak of peoples — reached and unreached.

One of the reasons for those decades of ignorance was the King James Bible. I grew up reading the King James Bible. But in the King James Bible there are only two occurrences of the plural word “peoples,” and both of them are in Revelation (Revelation 10:11, “And I was told, ‘You must again prophesy about many peoples and nations and languages and kings;’” and Revelation 17:15, “The waters . . . are peoples and multitudes and nations and languages”). So we know the translators knew this plural usage.

But not once in the Old Testament does the word “peoples” occur. But the ESV has 235 instances of the plural peoples. In virtually all those cases the King James translates either as people (singular) or as gentiles.

So it would be possible to grow up with the King James Bible and never realize that the Hebrew and Greek terms for people are both singular and plural (Hebrew: am and amim; Greek: laos and laoi), and never once see the term peoples in the Bible, if you didn’t read Revelation very carefully.

So I would like to spare you my ignorance. The Bible is filled with references to the peoples of the earth. God means to have them for himself. Christ died to have them: “You were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Revelation 5:9).

God is at work mightily among the peoples. He is pursuing them. Americans are not the only ones, or the main ones in this pursuit. But while we have breath we will do our part. Pray for Cross.

What Happened at Vatican II (And How to Pray 50 Years Later)

It was fifty years ago today that Roman Catholicism launched what many consider to be the most ambitious of its 21 ecumenical councils. Called the Second Vatican Council, or Vatican II, the three-plus-year series of gatherings began under Pope John XXIII on October 11, 1962, and concluded under Pope Paul VI on December 8, 1965. Half a century later, Vatican II remains the most recent of Catholicism’s official worldwide councils.

For those of us younger than 50, all we’ve experienced of Roman Catholicism, whether from within or without, comes to us through the lens and practices of Vatican II. It’s an important reality to be aware of as we try to make sense of the (appropriately) deep rift between Protestants and Catholics on many central issues, and as we learn to get over our chronological snobbery and become aware of the full history of the church in her first fifteen centuries, and her unusual last half millennium.

In October 1958, Italian cardinal Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli was elected pope at the age of 77. Ascending to the papacy at such an old age, he was expected to be a mere caretaker and bridge the short gap to the next ecclesiastical head. But less than three months into office, in January of 1959, he surprised many by calling for the convening of an ecumenical council. Over two years of formal preparations went into launching the meetings on October 11, 1962. It was the first council to be called in almost a century (Vatican I ended in 1870), and only the third since the Reformation (the Council of Trent spanned 1545 to 1563).

Many have summarized the core purpose of the council as adapting Roman Catholicism to the modern world. Summoning and beginning the council proved to be John XXIII’s most significant work as pope, as he died midway through the council on June 3, 1963.

Vatican II brought some major changes to the Roman church. Most obvious were changes in the mass, which had been said in Latin, with priest facing away from the congregation, often speaking quietly (even mumbling). It was impersonal at best, and for most, not understandable.

After the council, the feel of the mass changed drastically. It now was to be conducted in the language of the people, and participation was encouraged in new ways, with new possibilities granted for music and singing, and women allowed into upfront roles as readers, lectors, and Eucharistic ministers, as well as altar servers in some places (though some bishops and priests still discourage it). The sweeping reforms also included no longer forbidding Catholic attendance at Protestant services or reading from a Protestant Bible.

Another major course correction was Catholicism’s orientation on the Jewish people and non-Catholics. According to Catholic author Greg Tobin, this was

one of the most important theological and global breakthroughs, in terms of what came out of Vatican II. The church radically changed its position on the teaching about Jews, and really opened up to dialogue with the Jewish community; and encouraged — and demanded — that Catholics not consider the Jews as “other” or enemy but in fact, as brothers and sisters under the same God. And it was a monumental shift in the position of the church, and in the teachings of the church. So it was a sea change, in terms of the Catholic Church.

Vatican II aimed to produce not only a very different experience of the mass, but also a repositioning of the church in relation to the modern world. But many have wondered, despite all the felt flashpoints of change, whether it hasn’t proved to be much more than rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

Evangelicals should be careful to not assume that Vatican II changed more than it did. Shortly after the release of the council’s official documents (which you can read for yourself here), Reformed theologian and author Loraine Boettner, who lived through Vatican II and watched it with a careful eye, provided his perspective on the council’s effects (and lack thereof) in the preface of his book Roman Catholicism. Vatican II, he said,

repeated the claim that the Roman Catholic Church is the only true church, although it did recognize that other churches contain some elements of truth. . . . Pope John XXIII, who called the first session, and Pope Paul VI, who presided over the later sessions (as well as several prominent cardinals and theologians), took care to emphasize that no changes would be made in the doctrinal structure of the Church. However, Pope Paul did promulgate one new doctrine, which asserts that “Mary is the Mother of the Church.” The primary purpose of the Council was to update the liturgy and administrative practices and so to make the Church more efficient and more acceptable to the 20th century world.

Note the added italics: “no changes . . . in the doctrinal structure of the Church.” Boettner continues,

On previous occasions, Rome has changed her tactics when old methods became ineffective, but she has never changed her nature. In any religious organization, doctrine is the most basic and important part of its structure, since what people believe determines what they do. An official document, “The Constitution on the Church” prepared by the Council and approved by the Pope, reaffirms basic Catholic doctrine precisely as it stood before the Council met. . . . .

[I]f the Roman Catholic Church were reformed according to scripture, it would have to be abandoned. But the gross errors concerning salvation still remain. Moreover, the Council did nothing toward removing the more than 100 anathemas or curses pronounced by the Council of Trent on the Protestant churches and belief.

Boettner concluded that Vatican II

makes it abundantly clear that Rome has no intention of revising any of her basic doctrine, but only of updating her methods and techniques for more efficient administration and to present a more attractive appearance. This is designed to make it easier for the Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, and Protestant churches to return to her fold. There is no indication that she has any intentions of entering into genuine give-and-take church unity negotiations. Her purpose is not union, but absorption. Church union with Rome is strictly a one-way street. The age-old danger that Protestantism has faced from the Roman Church has not diminished; in fact, it may well have increased. For through this less offensive posture and this superficial ecumenicism, Rome is much better situated to carry out her program of eliminating opposition and moving into a position of world dominance. An infallible church simply cannot repent.

Strong words, but a helpful perspective from a thoughtful evangelical contemporary of the council. Whether you consider Boettner’s concerns to be warranted or overstated, they should give today's evangelicals some pause about being too optimistic about what happened in the reforms of Vatican II.

While Boettner may be wise to caution us about the increased danger facing the Protestant cause, in some sense, because of Vatican II, here are a couple other takeaways, from a more hopeful angle, for evangelical thankfulness and prayer.

First, we can be thankful that Vatican II finally freed Catholicism from the tyranny of Latin. It is tremendously sad to think of centuries of non-Latin-speaking Catholics sitting through a lifetime of masses, in which the Christian Scriptures were being read, but were not able to be understood, even at a surface level, in one’s own language. By and large (despite the apocryphal additions), the Catholic Church has the Christian Scriptures and reads from them in the mass.

Also, Vatican II has produced a heightened emphasis on Catholics reading the Scriptures for themselves. Despite the church’s official doctrine and formal teaching, many Catholics have been born again through the hearing of the gospel through the public and private reading of the Scriptures. It is no small thing that the Scriptures are now read in the language of the people, rather than the traditional Latin. It’s bittersweet, but this is something we evangelical Protestants can be thankful for.

Finally, here’s one way, among many, to pray for Catholics. Pray that God would be pleased to use this hearing and reading of the Scriptures to give new birth in the pews and among the cloth. It is a powerful thing to have the word of God, and to read it in the language of the people, and commend it for further study. May God be pleased to use even the needle of truth in a haystack of error, to draw to his Son all sorts of ecclesiastically baptized unbelievers, whether formally Catholic or Protestant, or none of the above.

Let’s not only consider what Jesus might say to Rome, but also pray for the church in general, and especially the particular Catholics we know. It's amazing what God often chooses to do through prayed-up, gracious, gospel-pointing conversations.

Learning from Myself Forty Years Later: Thoughts on the Republication of My Doctoral Dissertation

Crossway just republished my 1974 doctoral dissertation from the University of Munich. In re-reading parts of Love Your Enemies, I am struck at how solidifying those early days were.

For example, a significant focus of the dissertation was on the nature of motivation for loving our enemies and the role of God’s Spirit in bringing about enemy-love. In one section I asked, If we are born again by the Spirit, and led by the Spirit, and transformed by the Spirit, and sanctified by the Spirit, and empowered by the Spirit, and taught by the Spirit, what would be the necessity and function of human words, like “Love your enemies”?

If, as Paul says, we have been “God-taught to love one another” (1 Thessalonians 4:9), why do we need to hear Matthew or Luke or Paul or some contemporary teacher say into our physical ears, “Love your enemies”? I devote six pages to this issue (106–111). It is not small. It is a subset of issues about how God calls and shapes his people in this world and fits them for the next.

Here is the word picture I used to sum up my answer: “To put it in a picture: the command of enemy love, as part of the New Testament [ethical teaching] given ‘by grace’ and ‘through the Lord,’ is a seed sown by the Spirit’s gifted servants, in the ground of the renewed heart, which the Spirit himself has created, so that the fruit which springs up in the attitude and action of the Christian is indeed the fruit of the Spirit.” (110)

In other words, God solidified in me in those days the truth that the work of the Spirit in producing his fruit is not merely individual and not merely internal. It is both communal and external. The Spirit inspired written commands and promises. The Spirit raises up human speakers. The Spirit gives gifts of teaching and exhortation. The Spirit creates community. The Spirit providentially brings us into contact with these influences. The Spirit takes the humanly spoken and humanly explained command to love and presses it on our Spirit-humbled, Spirit-softened, and Spirit-readied heart. And the Spirit inclines that heart to joyfully pursue obedience, and be conformed to the beauty of Christ.

The result is “the fruit of the Spirit.” The ground where it grows may be the believing heart. But the seed and the conditions for its growth are much more than that heart.

I thank God for what he was doing in me in those days in Germany forty years ago (1971–1974). And, given how my 66-year-old mind forgets, I am glad I can still learn from what I wrote.

In between the scholarly jargon, maybe you could too.

A Prayer for 9/11 Ten Years Later

Ten years ago on this day the United States was attacked by Muslim extremists working for the terrorist group Al Qaeda. Two planes crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City, a third plane crashed into the Pentagon in Washington D.C., and a fourth plane crashed in rural Pennsylvania. Almost 3000 American civilians lost their lives on September 11, 2001—a greater number than were killed during the bombing of Pearl Harbor 60 years earlier.

All of us who are adults can remember exactly where we were when we heard about hijacked planes or what we felt as we watched the Twin Towers fall. It’s not an exaggeration to say the events of 9/11 changed this country and the world. That day probably changed us too. On the tenth anniversary of 9/11 there are reasons to give thanks, reasons to mourn, and many reasons to pray. So join me as I lead us in prayer.

*******

O God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, we worship and adore you, for  you are our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though mountains be moved into the heart of the sea. We will not be afraid though skyscrapers tumble and fall, though terror alerts are raised and the constant noise of wars and rumors of wars is all around us. The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; you utter your voice; the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

We live in an uncertain, sad and dangerous world. We always have and always will. But your sovereignty is secure, your loved is fixed, and your promises are altogether sure.

We turn to you, heavenly Father, as our rock and our refuge, as our King and our comforter. We pray that you continue to sustain all those who lost loved ones on 9/11. Show them mercy. Give them comfort. For those who believe in you, minister by your Spirit and the truths of your word. For those who are far from you, use this tragedy in a new way a decade later to draw these broken-hearted men, women, and children to yourself.

We thank you Lord for the fire men and police officers who risked their lives, and often gave their lives, to search for and rescue the victims of 9/11. We thank you for the opportunities many have had, like Lisa Beamer, to witness to the hope of the gospel in light of 9/11. We thank you for the men and women of our armed services who have fought bravely in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere during these ten years, some of them paying the ultimate price, so that we can have security at home and others can have freedom abroad. Thank for the yearning for freedom in parts of the Arab world. Thank you for the downfall of evil men like Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden. Thank you that despite many threats and scares, we have not had another 9/11 in this country. This is an undeserved gift and we praise God from whom all blessings flow.

We ask that you give wisdom, courage, humility, safety and strength to President Obama, to his cabinet, to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and to all who are responsible for making tough choices to try to keep this country safe and prevent needless suffering in the world. We pray for good policies, good intelligence, good character, and good decisions that we may lead peaceful and quiet lives, godly and dignified in every way.

We pray for Muslims in this country and around the world. Give them the safety and freedom we all deserve as creatures made in your image. Most of all, give them the eternal safety that only comes through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and the freedom that only comes through faith in him.

And finally, we pray that you wage war against the terror in our own hearts—our rebellion against you, our pride, our worry, our disobedience, our hatred, our cowardice, our intolerance and our overtolerance.  May we see every disaster—be it hurricane, earthquake, tsunami, or terrorism—as an opportunity and a summons to repent. Help every American to realize—as well as every Chinese, Korean, and Arab Muslim—that far worse will befall us on that day when the rocks and mountains crumble and people all over the world flee from the wrath of the Lamb. May every moment of adversity and prosperity point us to Christ. Keep our eyes fixed on the Author and Perfector of our faith. Let us run to Christ. Let us cling to Christ. Let us find forgiveness in Christ. Let us find assurance in Christ. For the only true promise of peace, in this life and in the next, is found in Christ. We gladly confess that he is our only comfort in life and in death.

Some trust in chariots; some trust in horses; some trust in the Koran; some trust in their wealth; some trust in their ancestors; some trust in their degrees; some trust in tanks and talks and predator drones. But we trust in the name of the Lord our God. It’s in his name of the Lord Jesus that we live and move and have our being, and it’s in his name we pray, Amen.