Good. Clean. Fun.

Just a few guys who love Jesus and who are enjoying life.  I especially love the rejoicing after successful shots.

Piper on Pressure and Productivity

A quote has been firmly wedged in my mind since I finished John Piper’s Brothers we are not Professionals that I thought I would share with you.  It has been tremendously helpful to me as I have let it simmer in my heart over the past few days.

In the chapter, Brothers, Read Christian Biography, Piper reflects on the lives of some of the most fruitful and, in terms of sheer output, most productive men in church history.  One man in particular was Karl Barth.  Although Barth was massively productive during much of his life, when he retired from his professorship in 1962, T.H.L Parker tells us he “lost the stimulus provided by the need to give lectures.”  Exactly what this means in regards to Barth’s actual output after he retired I am not sure, but Piper seems to interpret it negatively: on the flap of the book, Piper wrote in response,”Has greatness emerged from anything but pressure?  If greatness is to be servant of all, must we not be under authority, under demand, pushed, pressed?”  In other words, when the pressure stops, so does the productivity.

On the other hand, an overwhelming burden of responsibility tends to make us far more productive than we otherwise would have been on our own.  Ironically, the greater the number of responsibilities we already have, the more duties we tend to take on.  When we have too much time on our hands, we seldom find ourselves more fruitful.   Greatness is not produced from a life of unfettered ease, indulgent recreation and leisurely schedules–it flows out of a life squeezed by the crushing demands of home, work and ministry.  Sure, we could probably find a cushy pastorate if we so desired, and dabble in a dozen harmless hobbies throughout our life, but I doubt this would garner the words from our Master, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

What this means, then, is we should be exhorted to embrace the pressure of growing responsibility; to welcome the weight of intimidating duty.  I am not suggesting ungodly devotion to work.  Rather, I am hoping to encourage a willingness to accept the pressures and burdens of being a servant–of one who is constantly under pressure to lead, shepherd, pray, study, think, teach, write, counsel and make weighty decisions for the good of others and the glory of God.  We may get a little tired, and we may need to forgo some our our favorite hobbies, but it will be worth it.

Personal and Pastoral Reflections on ‘Brothers We Are Not Professionals’ by John Piper

Brothers we are not profJohn Piper’s Brothers, We Are Not Professionals, was a challenging, encouraging, and harrowing read.  In many places I found myself convicted by my lack of a particular quality or practice, while simultaneously exhorted to pursue, with more vigor, that  missing element in my life and ministry.  But reading this book was also a sobering experience.  The pastoral ministry is a serious work.  It is not to be taken casually; it is not to be  entered into lightly or viewed as a less strenuous alternative to a secular profession.  It is a glorious, demanding, painful, thrilling, satisfying endeavor with eternal ramifications of unfathomable magnitude—we are charged with the accurate handling of God’s Word and responsible for the souls of men.  It is no wonder why Paul cried out, “Who is sufficient for these things” (II Cor. 2:16)?

It is Paul’s rhetorical question (and its subsequent answer, “No one”) that perhaps made Piper’s chapter on prayer (“Brothers, Let Us Pray”) stand out with such compelling and immediate relevance to myself and to my ministry.  In this chapter, I was reminded of what can be a ministry reforming truth: God is glorified in answering prayer because it displays his utter sufficiency and our total dependence upon his mercy.  This truth is intensified if one considers a twin truth: genuine Christian ministry is wholly a supernatural work.  Regeneration, conversion, spiritual growth, heart-change, Godward affections—all these things (the things which ministry is primarily concerned), can only finally be effected by God Himself.  We have a role to play, but it is the kind of role a hose plays: a hose cannot water the grass, but it can be used by the gardener to spread the life giving water to the dry seed.  God must provide the supernatural element to our ministry, or church will be nothing more than a glorified social club, and our ministries will bear no lasting fruit.

As Piper makes unmistakeably clear in this chapter, if we desire to see God do the impossible—that is, change haters of God into lovers of God—then we must, as William Wilberforce says, “Pray, pray, pray.”  If we want to see the men’s ministry flourish with guys who are devoted to Christ and devoted to serving and loving and encouraging and admonishing one another, then we must pray.  If we want to see our Bible study fellowship class glow with the heat of passion for Christ and for the lost, then we must pray.  If we want to grow in holiness and in love for our wives, then we must pray.  If we long to persevere in the ministry and finish well, we must pray.  If we desire to see our church have massive saving impact on the community around us and in the world, we must pray.  Along with Piper, I want to be able to say that I “Refuse to believe that the daily hours Luther and Wesley and Brainard and Judson spent in prayer are idealistic dreams of another era” (57).  I want to see prayer as on indispensable and primary element of ministry, not just something I politely tack onto church meetings and before meals.

Secondly, I was helped by Piper’s chapter “Brothers, Live and Preach Justification by Faith.”  I had read this chapter several years ago when I was personally struggling with assurance of my salvation and the nagging and troubling doubts that pervaded much of my spiritual life.  It was not exhortations to rigorous holiness or repentance which brought peace to my soul, however: it was the truth of justification by faith which slowly but surely began to lift the stubborn veil of guilt and doubt.

Yet I wonder how many people in our church struggle silently with the burden of an unrelieved—or lightly relieved—conscience.  How many people under our ministries are walking in the joy and peace of believing, beyond a shadow- of-a-doubt, that Christ has fulfilled the law in their place and has borne fully God’s wrath in their place?  How many of these saints are regularly delighting in the righteousness of Christ?  How many of our people are making little if any headway in their sanctification because they have unwittingly confused justification and sanctification?  I think it would be naïve to posit a low number, or to brush off this concern as unimportant to the health and vitality of Christians.  In my opinion, it is this issue which is at the heart of the Christian life and a proper understanding of the doctrine of justification by faith which determines the relative joy, peace and assurance of believers.

So how can we “live and preach justification by faith?”  An essential question is answered by the order of the words in the sentence: We must first live justification by faith before I can preach justification by faith.  We must be enjoying the peace and assurance that comes from a clear understanding of the doctrine of justification.  We must be able to rightly apply the balm of grace to our wounded soul before we can know how to apply it to others.  But as as we are personally making progress in this area, I do believe it will be helpful to expose those under our care to this doctrine in all its fullness and to help unearth the underlying anxiety and spiritual disquiet that pesters their souls.  Not only is accurate teaching of this doctrine necessary, we also need to help other others see for themselves how understanding this doctrine beyond a superficial level can heal their deeply-rooted feelings of guilt—guilt for past and present sins, guilt for not serving enough or praying enough or loving enough or giving enough.  Some who are Christians will find great relief and begin to make unprecedented growth in their spiritual life; others will be converted and brought from trusting in their own righteousness to genuinely trusting in Christ and his righteousness.

I am thankful for good books, and I am especially thankful for the men who have labored to provide such rich food for our souls and wisdom for our labors in the gospel.  Piper’s book on the pastoral ministry is no exception.

Beware of False Maturity: A Stinging Quote from Jonathan Edwards

Religious Affections EdI have been reading Jonathan Edwards’ Religious Affections for two years now.  It has taken this long because 1) I think a book like this requires slow, patient, thoughtful reading, and 2) I am only able to read it occasionally because I have a stack of other reading to complete for school.  It is no exaggeration to say that I am confronted, challenged, rebuked,  laid low, encouraged and strengthened by this book  at every turn of the page.  Edwards’ insight into the human heart and the secret working of the Holy Spirit is both frightening and refining as he shows us, from Scripture, common sense, and experience, what a true work of God’s grace looks like and how genuine Christians can cultivate and promote true affections for Christ.  I find myself stocking quote after quote in my notes and in my journals as I am constantly reminded of the enduring helpfulness of well-written and Scripture-saturated books.

One quote that I have found particularly convicting and instructive regards what I would call “false maturity.”  It is easy for us to think we have attained “great heights in religion” (Edwards’ phrase) when we really have not, and to think of ourselves more highly than we should (Romans 12:3).  Edwards reminds us that we must understand  great attainments in spiritual growth can only occur by first achieving lesser attainments.

And here, by the way, I would observe, that it may be laid down as a general rule, that if persons pretend that they come to high attainments in religion, but have never yet arrived to the lesser attainments, it is a sign of a vain pretense.  If persons pretend that they have got beyond mere morality, to live in a spiritual and divine life, but really have not come to be so much as moral persons: or pretend to be greatly affected with the wickedness of their hearts, and are not affected with the palpable violations of God’s commands in their practice, which is a lesser attainment: or if they pretend to be brought to be even willing to be damned for the glory of God, but have no forwardness to suffer a little in their estates and names and worldly convenience, for the sake of their duty: or if they pretend that they are not afraid to venture their souls upon Christ, and commit their all to God, trusting to His bare word, and the faithfulness of His promises, for their eternal welfare, but at the same time have not confidence enough in God to dare trust Him with a little of their estates, bestowed to pious and charitable uses; I say, when it is thus with persons, their pretenses are manifestly vain.  He that is in a journey, and imagines he has got far beyond such a place in his road, and never yet came to it, must be mistaken; and he is not yet arrived to the top of the hill that never yet got half way thither (296-297)

If we think we are more mature than we truly are, we will unwittingly neglect the “lesser” areas of our lives, having been deceived that we have progressed beyond these to the more profound and important areas of Christianity, and our hypocrisy will be apparent to all.  There is perhaps nothing more deadly to spiritual growth than thinking we no longer need to grow.  May God have mercy on us to open our eyes so we can see where we are really at.

Guest Blogging at Raw Christianity

My good friend David “Gunner” Gundersen asked me recently to guest blog at his website, Raw Christianity. I took this as a high honor as I consider Gunner to be not only a good and faithful friend, but a godly man with tremendous spiritual insight and keen judgment.  I have enjoyed and profited from reading Gunner’s blog for the past five years and have often, during that time, found myself longing to write as well as he does. I hope you will take this opportunity to not only read what I have written, but to also explore Gunner’s site for spiritual treasure.

He will post my entries on Monday, Wednesday and Friday of this week.  You can read the first post, Blogging and Accountability in the Local Church, here.  You can read the second post, A Tough Means of Grace: Profiting from the Rebukes of Others, Part I, here.

Also, I have linked to Gunner’s writing several times on this blog.  Here are a few entries:

Let Gunner Preach at You

Wit and Wisdom

More Wit and Wisdom

Even More Wit and Wisdom

Gundersen on MacArthur

Links for Better Blogging

Christians and Conservation: Reflections on ‘Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community’ by Wendell Berry

Wendell BerryIn the same way that Evangelical Ethics by John Jefferson Davis startled me awake to the necessity of a Christian understanding of and engagement in the major ethical issues facing the church today, Wendell Berry, in Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community, with his winsome (and sometimes powerfully sarcastic) writing style, provoked me to begin to think more purposefully about our obligation as Christians to promote and care for the local community.  Although I did not agree with all of Berry’s conclusions and ideals, I did glean helpful and instructive principles that I believe are Biblical and are thus beneficial to the local communities in which we, as Christians, work and live.

To sincerely and proactively care for and cultivate the health of the local community is simply another way in which we fulfill Christ’s commands to be salt and light (Matthew 5:14-16) to love our neighbors as ourselves (Matthew 22:39), and to exercise proper dominion over the world God has entrusted to us (Genesis 1:26).  Yet, it seems (at least to me) that the Protestant church, in more recent times, has neglected these commands and their application to the local community.  Has this unfortunate trend been the result, as Berry maintains, of an unwitting embrace of dualism (106ff)?  Has the Church wrongly bought into the idea that matter is bad and the soul is good, and therefore developed a theology of evangelism that is only concerned to save souls but disregards the care of the body; and by implication, those things that feed and nurture the body?  Although it is not within the scope of this essay to determine from where the lack of community awareness has originated, it does appear that the conservative Church has a truncated understanding of what it means to seek to do what is best for the communities in which we live.

One way that we can care for the local community is through conservation.  According to Berry, our pursuit of a healthy community is incomplete without proper care of nature.  Berry writes, “If we speak of a healthy community, we cannot be speaking of a community that is merely human, we are talking about a neighborhood of humans in a place plus the place itself: its soil, its water, its air, and all the families and tribes of the nonhuman creatures that belong to it” (14).  If one understands a healthy community to consist as such, it is inevitable that we will have to consider the conservation of that community’s land and resources.  Conservation, then, becomes a moral imperative.  Berry continues,

From the standpoint of such a community, any form of land abuse—clear cut, a strip mine, and overplowed and overgrazed field—is an alien and as threatening as it would be from the standpoint of an ecosystem.  From such a standpoint, it would be plain that land abuse reduces the possibilities of local life, just as do chain stores, absentee owners, and consolidated schools (15)

Thus, we need “local revision of our methods of land use and protection” (17).  This means, primarily, establishing self-sufficient local communities whose economies do not depend on industries that are outside of the community.  These self-sustaining communities cannot bring “destructive industries” into the community in order to create jobs; rather, and as an example, “food that is consumed locally ought to be locally produced on small farms, and then processed in small non-polluting plants that are locally owned” (17).  We also “need to increase cooperation among all local economic entities: households, farms, factories, banks, consumers, and suppliers” (17).

Berry’s conclusion is that if we do not oppose the “standardless aims of industrial communism and industrial capitalism…The aims of productivity, efficiency, limitless growth, limitless wealth, limitless power, limitless mechanization and automation…  [and] unlimited economic growth” (12-13), we will inevitably destroy our local communities and consequently our nation.

Berry’s call to conservation is far more pervasive than what most of us think of as conservation: turning off the tap water when we are not using it, taking shorter showers, placing bottles and cans in their respective recycling containers, car-pooling.  He is calling (most of) us to a wholesale reshaping of our idea of community and the importance of creating self-sustaining cities and developing a harmonious balance between a community and its land.  Toward the end of Berry’s second essay (“Conservation is a Good Work”), he gives several practical ideas as to how we can rebuild local economies and create self-sustaining communities.

In many ways I think Berry is correct: the rapid growth of technology and industry has created a situation where our ability to do something (construct another factory, raise another building, plunder another forest) has exceeded our moral reflection on how we should go about it, or if we should go about it at all.  It does appear that in America, sincere concern for land and solid reflection on the long-term effects of an industrial and commercial presence on local community life has been displaced by the mere desire for wealth; few seem to be thinking far into the future, and the American industrial machine seems to be racing far ahead of those who would claim to be its masters.

It is at this point that I am afraid that some Christians (like me) are tempted to disregard such issues as even far less than secondary.  The common response is, “We must be about the Great Commission, primarily.  As soldiers of Christ Jesus, we cannot become entangled in civilian affairs.”  I give hearty agreement to this statement, but only inasmuch as it stands as a general principle, not as a reaction to the idea that we must consider the long-term effects of the use of our land.  As those who care for the souls of men, our love for their eternal welfare should also be coupled with a love for their temporal welfare; we should seek what is best for man in all things, and that would mean a proper stewardship of the earth so that current and future generations can enjoy the bounty of God’s creation.  A desire for one’s eternal joy does not negate a desire for their temporal joy; godly love is concerned for both.

The governing question in all of this must be, “What is best for man?”  As we reflect upon and directly involve ourselves in the local economic, industrial, commercial, and environmental decisions made in their community, a love for mankind must penetrate all of our thinking.  How this looks practically is where Wendell Berry’s book is very helpful.  He prompts us to think of what truly is best for man in regards to the communities we live in, how they should be constructed, and how we might stave off careless and shortsighted abuse of land by large-scale industry.

On the other hand, however, we cannot make the mistake of concluding that industry in and of itself is bad, or that constructing another building is inherently evil.  Sometimes what is best for a community will be the overtaking of a forest in order to supply homes for families.  Nevertheless, deliberate or negligent waste of earthly resources is not an allowable for Christians simply because we have been entrusted with the Great Commission.  On the contrary, our love for others displayed in a balanced understanding of and care for our local community will serve to adorn the gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and demonstrate that the gospel of Christ is good news for the whole man, not just his soul.

Questions remain, however, especially in regards to how this is to happen practically.  Should we seek to return to an agrarian society?  Should we say no to new cars and new homes?  Should I sell my SUV?  Is it a moral imperative to carpool?  Are we in sin when we do not use or provide recycling facilities?

In regards to this last question, I am reminded of a conference that I attended nearly four years ago.  At this particular conference, I was blessed to sit with approximately three-thousand other men and hear excellent preaching and teaching about the pastoral ministry.  For our refreshment, we were provided with an endless amount of water bottles each day.  A few days into the conference, my friend noted, while observing the garbage cans inundated with water bottles, that there were no recycling containers on campus.  To him this was a shame and a waste.  Was it?  As I reflected on his comment, I began to sense that the absence of recycling containers for this amount of people at a conference known for its powerful preaching and doctrinal fidelity appeared to be out of place.  Certainly, I will take no recycling containers over weak preaching and heretical doctrine any day, but to have solid preaching and biblical commitment without a concern for recycling the massive amount of water bottles did seem, as it were, incongruous.  Perhaps my friend is weird.  Perhaps he is right on.

Fighting in Good Conscience: Reflections on ‘War and Christian Ethics,’ edited by Arthur F. Holmes

War and Christian EthicsI have a deep and abiding respect for the men in our military. My admiration grew after I read Lone Survivor, the true account of a failed Navy Seal mission in Afghanistan, written by the only surviving soldier of team Redwing, Marcus Lattrell. In his moving and detailed account, Latrell describes the rigors of Navy Seal training, the brutality of actual battle, the bittersweet glories of post-combat recognition by his Commander and Chief, and the heart-wrenching responsibilities of a “lone survivor” to personally contact the families of each of his fallen brothers. Stories like these should provoke us to serious reflection on the subject of battle and military engagement. War is not a video game.

In this regard I think it is important for Christians to be able to effectively counsel men in what Martin Luther calls, “The Soldier and His Conscience.”  Within the Church, we, as pastors and laypeople, will potentially have instances where a soldier will ask us what we believe to be God’s will when it comes to his involvement in war. Luther’s treatment of this issue, I believe, is excellent and very helpful, and should serve as a guide as we seek to counsel men as they prepare for service in the military or actual battle.

When a man has a moment of reluctance and questioning as he considers whether or not it is right to kill in battle, or be a part of a military that, by its very nature, plans to kill in battle, he should be encouraged that his soul is rightly affected by the thought of war. A man once told me that if a hunter has no feeling of sadness when he kills an animal—even out of necessity—he should stop hunting, because he is tending too much toward brutality. I think he is right, and I think this principle applies to military service. War is not the way things are supposed to be: pain, bloodshed, death, and the necessity to protect oneself from other humans by the use of force are all results of the fall. Therefore, when a man who is otherwise courageous and bold in Christ, begins to question the morality of killing in battle, he should be encouraged for his sensitive spirit, not chided for cowardice. On the other hand, when one looks forward to war for the purpose of shedding another’s blood, this is a profound indication that something is spiritually awry.

Luther’s balance concerning the soldier’s attitude toward war is helpful at this point. Luther repeats the phrase, “The Lord scatters those who delight in war” (Psalm 68:30) several times, using this verse as the textual foundation for his warnings to men to not be overly zealous to enter battle. On the contrary, young men should learn from the seasoned soldiers who “are not quick to draw their sword” and who “are not contentious.” Only “fools…are the first to fight in their thoughts and even make a good start by devouring the world with words and are the fist to flash their blades, [but they] are also the first to run away and sheath their swords” (150).  In order to keep a good conscience before the Lord, a soldier must enter the fray of battle, not delighting in the destruction it will inevitably inflict, but in the fulfilling of his duty to his commander. In his heart he should be able to say, “Well, for my part, I would like to stay home, but because my lord calls me and needs me, I come in God’s name and know that I am serving God by doing so…” (158-159).

This man must also be shown, from Scripture, that neither the Old or New Testaments forbid the use of military force, or of belonging to the military. Many of the most formidable military leaders of the Old Testament were considered “great” in the eyes of God (see Hebrews 11), while both John the Baptist and Christ himself, when speaking to soldiers, never took that occasion to discourage their service in the military, but implicitly encouraged it (see Luke 3:14 and Matthew 8:5-13). One can conclude that the Scripture, while maintaining that war, bloodshed and death are unfortunate results of sin, also recognizes serving in the military is a legitimate profession, and that war itself is sometimes an act of mercy. Luther writes, “…if the sword were not on guard to preserve peace, everything in the world would be ruined because of lack of peace. Therefore, such a war is only a brief lack of peace that prevents an everlasting and immeasurable lack of peace, a small misfortune that prevents a great misfortune” (143). To do justice and love mercy (Micah 6:8) sometimes means that you pick up your rifle and fight the enemies of justice and mercy.

Finally, we must show this man that it is pleasing in the eyes of God for one to properly obey the human authority placed over him; in this case, the government (Romans 13:1-4; I Peter 2:13-15). The government was established by God to punish wrongdoing.  Therefore, a soldier can have the confidence that he is doing the Lord’s will by being the instrument to carry out this kind of justice.  Luther notes God’s establishment of government and His call for our obedience to the government is actually an act of mercy. As Luther rightly insightfully observes, “Almighty God shows us a great grace when he appoints rulers for us as an outward sign of his will, so that we are sure we are pleasing his divine will and are doing right, whenever we do the will and pleasure of the ruler” (163).

In certain cases, however, when one is convinced that his commander is acting unjustly, the soldier would be right to “obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29), and refrain from battle. Even if the soldier risks losing pay, military honor, and being called a coward as a result of his refraining from battle, Luther tells us “You must take that risk and, with God’s help, let whatever happens, happen” (159). But, as Luther advises, “…if you do not know, or cannot find out, whether or lord is wrong, you ought not to weaken certain obedience for the sake of an uncertain justice; rather you should think the best of your lord, as is the way of love, for ‘love believes all things’ and ‘does not think evil,’ I Corinthians 13 [:4-7]” (159-160).

Obedience to God and love for others must be the motivation behind one’s service in the military. A soldier must not be primarily driven by a desire for honor or riches. Concerning the desire for fame and recognition, Luther warns, “Seeking one’s honor is one of the greatest sins. It is nothing less than…robbery of the divine majesty. Let others, therefore, boast and seek honor; you be obedience and quiet, and your honor will find you” (161-162). A man who thinks only of aquiring wealth through his service in the military “is not happy when there is peace and not war. Such a man strays from the path and belongs to the devil, even though he fights out of obedience to his lord and his call. He takes a work that is good in itself and makes it bad for himself by not being very concerned about serving out obedience and duty, but only about seeking his own profit.” If only commanders roused their troops, not by promises of glory and wealth, but by the reminders of God and duty. Instead of saying, “Dear comrades, dear soldiers, be brave and confident; God willing, we shall this day win honor and become rich,” commanders should exhort thus, “Dear comrades, we are gather here to seve, obey and do our duty to our prince, for according to God’s will and ordinance, we are bound to support our prince with our body and our possessions, even though in God’[s sight we are as poor sinners as our enemies are” (161).

A Christian man contemplating military service, or a soldier considering his role in battle, should be encouraged to pursue military service and obey the call to battle with a heart of humility, obeying the governing authorities out of obedience to God, and shunning motivations for glory and wealth. If he does so, he will enter battle with a good conscience and will be able to serve well, as Luther observes, “For whoever fights with a good and well-instructed conscience can also fight well. This is especially true since a good conscience fills a man’s heart with courage and boldness” (141).

However, although Luther’s treatment of this subject is well-reasoned and biblically balanced, I do have a few questions for further research and reflection in this area of study, primarily regarding the soldier’s conscience concerning the justice of a particular war to which he has been called. How deep should a soldier go into understanding the just nature of a particular war? What if a specific war fulfills many but not all of the criteria for a just war? What if the war is just, but the particular battle to which the soldier is called is not just because it involves killing of innocents, or torture, or other such things? Must a soldier weigh the justice of every single action of a particular battle in order to determine whether or not he will continue to fight? These are a few of the questions that still remain as I contemplate the soldier’s conscience. I trust that as I study, think, and counsel, the Lord will shed the light of His truth on such issues for his glory and the good of his people.


Reflections on ‘Teaching to Observe’ by Jay E. Adams

Teaching to ObserveIn Teaching to Observe, Jay Adams helps counselors to see teaching as an essential and indispensable aspect of counseling. The counselor is not a professional “listener,” who merely draws out solutions to the counselee’s problem from the counselee himself. Rather, the counselor is one who seeks to impart genuine spiritual knowledge to the counselee with the aim to enabling the counselee to believe and obey the knowledge he has received.

This teaching, however, must be Biblical. This means the counselor must use the Bible according to its intended purpose, taking each passage in its context, explaining it thoroughly, and applying it to the counselee’s situation appropriately. This will also mean the counselor must seek to become equipped to teach the whole Bible, not just selected portions with which he is familiar. Although this kind of teaching will grow in fullness and depth, Biblical teaching in counseling will be clear, direct, and to the point. Finally, and most importantly, Biblical teaching in counseling will always have, as its primary and pervasive aim, the glory of God. Adams succinct and helpful definition of Christian teaching is, “the vital communication of God’s truth, in God’s way, for God’s purposes” (68).

Despite its confusing title (the phrase, “Teaching to Observe” is taken from Christ’s ‘Great Commission’ in Matthew 28:20: “Teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you…” It is not a guide to instructing others how to improve their observation skills!), this book was both clear and helpful. I was challenged in three specific ways.

One, to seek to be a well-equipped teacher in counseling other believers. I was challenged to be diligent in constantly studying the Scriptures so that I might be able to more effectively apply the Scriptures in counseling situations that arise. I do not want to ever be satisfied with my knowledge, but always longing to grow in my knowledge and grasp of the Bible so that I might use it well in my life and in the lives of others.

Secondly, I was greatly helped by Adam’s clarifying definition of Christian teaching and his discussion of what makes teaching distinctively Biblical. These principles will keep me on task and focused in my labor as a counselor. It is amazing how short, clear definitions like these can clarify one’s responsibilities as a counselor. I was especially helped by the “God-centeredness” of Adam’s definition: all counseling is done for the glory of God and according to God’s Word.

Finally, I was greatly challenged by Adams discussion on fruitful listening. The only way to grow in grace and knowledge in my own soul is to “take care how I listen,” and rid my heart and life of those hindrances that keep me from truly learning: sin, worldly pleasures and worries, fear and the like. Not only must I be aware of what makes for true learning in the lives of my counselees, I must, first and foremost, make sure that I am listening well to Christ’s commands and instructions. Otherwise, my counseling will be hypocrisy, and will, sooner or later, be revealed as such.

On the whole, Adams “Teaching to Observe” is clear, easy to read, and at only 131 pages, serves as an accessible introduction to the goals and methods of Biblical counseling. I highly recommend it!

Man’s Universal Desire For Regeneration: Reflections on ‘Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered Age’ by Bill McKibben

EnoughOn the last two pages of the first volume of Jonathan Edwards’ collected works resides a small yet significant piece of writing.  It is entitled, “Theological Questions,” and contains ninety inquiries into many topics apparently posed by Edwards himself and collected into a document.  Questions include queries from, “How do you prove that the Scriptures are a revelation from God?” to “What is true benevolence to men?”  One question in particular has, since my initial discovery of this page, prompted thought and provoked many questions in my own mind: it is number sixty-eight and reads, “Do not the unregenerate desire to be regenerated” (690-691).

It was not until I reached the latter portion of Bill McKibben’s Enough that I saw more clearly than I ever had prior the truth that Edwards implied in his question regarding the universal desire of all men for regeneration.  In the first pages of chapter five (“Enough”), McKibben tells of Max More, a keynote speaker at the fourth national convention of the Extropian movement in 1999, who spoke of his goal to “always improve, never be static” (201).  More also asserted that amendments needed to be made to the human constitution.  These amendments included trading in death for eternal life, increasing perception through improved senses, enhancing memory, intelligence and “emotional responses,” all through the use of complex biotechnology.  These enhancements would thus move us from “a human to an ultrahuman condition” (201).

More’s vision for man sounds similar to the effects of the new birth.  His passion to “always improve [and] never be static” sounds like talk from a Christian, who, impelled by the Holy Spirit, refuses to give into laziness and who pursues sanctification with unrelenting vigor.  More is searching for eternal life through biotechnology, yet eternal life attends the regeneration of a Christian and the latter is the present taste of the former.  A born-again believer receives “improved emotional responses,” namely new affections of love for God, for holiness, and for mankind.  Someday that Christian will set aside the human condition to take on a new “ultrahuman” condition at the resurrection.  Granted, More’s ideas of eternal life, improved emotional faculties, and the ultrahuman condition are vastly different than the Christian notion of these realities, but the fact that they are present and resemble regeneration in profound ways is enough to demonstrate that men were made for Jesus Christ.  We see here the truth that Augustine articulated and acutely felt, “Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.”

McKibben even uses the word “restless” in describing the vision of Nick Bostrum, a Swedish philosopher who also took the podium the same convention.  Bostrom spoke of “aesthetic-contemplative pleasures whose blissfulness vastly exceeds what any human has yet experienced,” and “love that is stronger, purer, and more secure than any human has yet harbored,” and “values that will strike us as begin of a far higher order than those we can realize as unenhanced biological humans” (202).  This man, like his colleague, is looking for regeneration.

In fact, it seems that the entire pursuit of the technological advancements that McKibben outlines in his book reveals that man is looking for that which can only be found in Christ.  Man’s desire for rest and leisure, McKibben predicts, might create a scenario where, through robotic industry, “production and output could greatly increase…so we could all have a better quality of life without having to do work.”  In such a situation, “the primary job of humanity in [this] century will be protecting its retirement benefits by ensuring continued cooperation from the robot industries” (93).  Yes, rest is good and necessary and efficiency can be a blessing, but not at the point where it eradicates work altogether.  Contrary to the dreams of young entrepreneurs who plan to retire at age thirty-five, a life with nothing to do is no life at all.  McKibben recognizes that “Having nothing to do is one kind of hell,” and, quoting Erazim Kohak, admits, “To have without doing corrodes the soul” (94).  Only in Christ can one find that perfect balance of work and rest; even our enjoyment of rest in the kingdom of Christ will not be divorced from fruitful labor (see Revelation 22:3).

It is important for us as Christians to understand technology in light of regeneration and eternal life as we discuss and come to conclusions about our development and use of it.  Some technology is good: it reflects a proper exercising of dominion over the created order, it provides relief from pain and sickness, and it makes us more efficient in certain areas so we can concentrate on others.  On the other hand, however, some technology can be deadly to the human race and to the richness of life because those who develop it do not realize that some improvements and the desires for those improvements can only be satisfied in Jesus Christ and in His gift of regeneration.  Thus, men like More and Bostrum seek these enhancements apart from God and apart from revealed truth, subsequently pursuing and incorporating enhancements that are contrary to the natural order.

Nevertheless, despite continued exponential growth of technology that results in further enhancements to our human constitution and that contributes to the ease of life, man, though able to catalog great achievement and “progress,” will still be lamenting along with Bono saying, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”  The heart will ache until it is satisfied by God through Jesus Christ; all the technological advancement in the universe will never satisfy a guilty conscience.

So technology, it would appear, is tool for evangelism—not in the way that it is conventionally used as a tool: websites, podcasts, blogs, and other such means—but as a window into the soul of man.  I do not think that our primary mission will be to tell men and women inundated with technology to shut of their iPods and take a walk in the woods, although this is beneficial and necessary.  It is not our calling, chiefly, to tell others to quit seeking ways to selfishly improve themselves through biotechnology and germline manipulation, or to knock off trying to live forever through Cryogenics, or to stop seeking perpetual leisure.  Rather, as evangelists, we must use man’s very inclination toward progress, toward eternal life, and toward leisure to demonstrate to them that they were made for Someone else.

Your drive toward progress?  You possess that penchant for improvement because you were created in the image of God to work and to grow, but you have fallen, and now you need Christ to reconcile you to your Creator who will give you the correct motivation for work and self-improvement.  Your passion for eternal life?  That’s there because God put eternity in our hearts and because those of us who have not been forgiven of our sins fear the judgment that comes at death—but Christ tasted death and judgment in our place.  Your insatiable desire for leisure and peace is the result of a guilty conscience that you are attempting to appease through external peace and because your heart was designed to long for an eternal rest that can only be satisfied in God’s kingdom.  Will you not turn from your futile pursuits and trust in the One for Whom you were made?

Although McKibben’s effort is noble—his call for humans to say that we have advanced far enough in regards to technology—I do not think that his call will be heeded.  Why?  Because McKibben himself understands, “Enough is not a possibility for our species” (203).  Yes, Christians can and must exercise the self-control and the wisdom to set aside certain technologies and to speak clearly against others, but we must also realize that man will continue to pursue self-improvement and eternal life—although sinfully because he is fallen—since he has been made in the image of God.

My questions at this point concern the methods by which we can begin, as a Church, to speak evangelistically to a technologically dependent society.  I have posed some suggestions above, but I know there is more to it.  In what other ways does man’s infatuation with technology reveal the longings of his soul?  How do these truths relate to the people in our Church?  How does technology negatively affect the regenerate?  Does it?  Can it?  It what ways?  These are important questions as well as I think about how to shepherd God’s people in an age that cannot say “Enough.”

A Christian Response to Abortion: Reflections on ‘Evangelical Ethics’ by John Jefferson Davis

Evangelical EthicsIt has been easy for me to slip into the mentality that engagement in ethical issues is not necessarily the priority of the Christian individually or the Church as a whole.  To be honest, as I consider the past eight years of my Christian life, I can say that most of the time that I have spent in seriously pondering the truth of Christianity and its application, I have narrowed in primarily on issues that relate directly to me.  To my shame, I admit that I have engaged in little, if any, significant ethical reflection in regards to how I am called, as a Christian, to think and interact Biblically on moral issues in society.  It is only recently that I have found a growing conviction concerning the wickedness of abortion arising in my soul and the subsequent compulsion to engage this issue more purposefully.

Evangelical Ethics, by John Jefferson Davis, is a much-needed corrective in my own life and, I would trust, for Christ’s Church as well.  In just my first reading (I intend to read it again, or, at least, index it for later reference), I have been deeply encouraged to not only thoroughly engage the significant ethical issues facing the Church, but to not rest content until I understand those issues in light of Scripture.  This is not easy work, but it is an utterly essential work.  Jesus calls us to be salt and light.

Davis’ Ethics was beneficial to me specifically in forming an understanding of an evangelical response to abortion.  Davis’ well-researched and solidly reasoned treatment of this issue was helpful not only in further strengthening my convictions against the evils of abortion, but also in aiding me to think clearly about the issue.  The issue of abortion carries with it massive emotional freight, and it is easy for me to bypass solid argument and evidence in favor of emotionally charged rhetoric.  Davis enabled me to see both the explicit Biblical teaching concerning abortion and the vindication of God’s wisdom in the evidence surrounding the horror of the actual procedure and the medical and emotional aftermath following the procedure.

One of the most significant questions in the abortion debate is the question of personhood: when is the child considered a person, and what inherent rights to life does that child, as a person, have, apart from the will of the mother, father, or doctors?  Biblical teaching on the issue of personhood indicates that conception is the point at which personhood commences.  The reality that God relates to the conceived embryo in a personal manner necessitates that we think of the embryo as a person (see Psalm 51:5).  God’s relation to that person continues throughout the gestation process (Psalm 139:15-16; Jeremiah 1:5) and on throughout their earthly and eternal life.  The Scriptures, Davis writes, “assume a fundamental continuity between prenatal and postnatal human life” (156).  In support to this statement Davis demonstrates that the word for “child” in both the Old and New Testaments, is used for unborn children as well as children who have already been born.

Unfortunately, objections are made against the assertion that personhood begins at conception.  Davis writes, “Proponents of the abortion-on-demand and abortion-on-indications positions generally take the fetus to be less than a full ‘person’ or ‘human being’ because of the lack of fully developed consciousness” (161).  However, Davis warns us that we are in a precarious position if we “equate the fact of personhood with certain psychological states” (161).  In other words, personhood does not depend on the presence or absence of certain traits or abilities, like, in the case of a new embryo, a fully functioning brain, sense capabilities, formed appendages, and other characteristics.  Rather, personhood is a “metaphysical reality out of which arise, during the normal course of human development, the psychological manifestations of person” (161).  These manifestations of personhood are inherent in the nature of the embryo.  Davis continues, “A newborn baby does not possess the adult’s power of speech or thought, but in due course the baby will develop these powers, because they are inherent in the child’s nature” (161).

Furthermore, the “metaphysical reality” of personhood also draws into question the common objection of “viability.”  Some proponents of abortion will point to the fact of an embryos or fetus’ inability to survive on its own outside the womb, and thus, along with the premise of Roe v. Wade, affirm the constitutionality of the “right of a woman to choose to have an abortion before viability…” (142).  The word “viability” ties in with the phrase, “potential life.”  Until a fetus is viable (i.e. able to live on its own outside the womb), it does not possess “potential life,” and can therefore be terminated without moral opposition.  Justice Sandra O’Connor saw the problem with this kind of thinking when she voiced the foundational flaws in the legal reasoning of the Roe v. Wade case.  O’Conner noted,

In Roe, the Court held that although the State had an important and legitimate interest in protecting potential human life…that interest could not become compelling until the point at which the fetus was viable.  The difficulty with this analysis is clear: potential life is no less potential in the first weeks of pregnancy than it is at viability or afterward (141)

The question, therefore, is not one of “viability,” but one of personhood.  Christians must hold to the Biblical teaching that personhood begins at conception and thus requires protection as human life from that point on.  Davis says it well when he writes, “Rather than saying that the unborn represent ‘potential human life,’ it is more accurate to say that the unborn represent actual human life with great potential” (161).

We must also recognize the profound spiritual, emotional, and physical affects that abortion has upon the mothers who endure the abortion, the fathers who consent to (or demand) the abortion, and the physicians who administer the abortion.  It is not uncommon for women who have had abortions to later experience complications with later pregnancies such as miscarriage, cervical incompetence, prematurity, and tubal pregnancies.  Studies also show that women who have had abortions experience bleeding during the first three months of subsequent pregnancies while demonstrating significant increases in the incidence of low birth weights and birth defects.  Davis also discusses evidence of guilt, depression and other forms of psychological conflict that “plague many who women who have had abortions.”

The husbands and boyfriends are not exempt from the burden of emotional pain.  Davis quotes Dr. Arthur Shostak, professor of sociology at Drexel University, who has interviewed hundreds of men who have been involved in the abortion procedure.  Shostak says that the men “…don’t think of if just as an operation that their wives or girlfriends are having…They think of it—even if they don’t always describe it this way—as a loss of fatherhood” (151).

Abortion also “takes its psychological toll on doctors and nurses,” because, “The killing of human life in abortions produces tremendous tension with the medical profession’s stated ideals of healing and preserving life.”  Davis speaks of Dr. Bernard Nathanson, who once was the director of an abortion clinic in New York City, but who changed his pro-abortion position after he was convinced by medical evidence of the “humanity of the unborn” (152).  Nathanson tells of abortion doctors who began “ ‘losing their nerve in the operating room…” (152).  Nathanson remembers one doctor, “sweating profusely, shaking badly, nipping drinks between procedures” (152), while also learning of another abortion doctor who was continually beleaguered by dreams of blood.  Nathanson admits, “I was seeing personality structures dissolve in front of me on a scale that I had never seen before in a medical situation” (152).

Our love for the unborn and for those mothers, fathers and doctors who are blindly walking down a path of emotional, physical and spiritual ruin should compel us to rigorous thought and unrelenting action against the evils of abortion.  Yet I wonder how many of us in the Church truly realize how truly terrible abortion is, or how many of us are able to explain why we believe it is so terrible.

Thus the questions remain.  How can we wake up the Church to the horrors of abortion?  Why does the Church on the whole appear to neglect this vital issue?  What reasons do pastors have for why they do not engage this issue with more vigor?  Are these reasons legitimate?  And how should we approach this issue?  How far do we as the Church take it?  Can we become too wrapped up in the issue of abortion, to the detriment of the gospel?  I pray that the Lord will have mercy on us by forgiving our disregard of this vital issue and by empowering us to think clearly and act courageously in this area.