Tom Skinner Urbana 1970

https://youtu.be/bvKQx4ycTmA 

Why You Will Join the Wrong Church

by Sam Emadi

I guess I really don’t understand fully what a covenant is…versus a contract. The idea of a covenant, originated by Yahweh, is that it is a pledge that mutually binds the individuals involved to the commitment of future everlasting love especially when the chips are down. I feel like the point is, that fire will come. And the positive side of the argument here is equally poignant: “While our affections for our church and its members can be fickle, easily dissipating as soon as circumstances shift unfavorably, our covenant commitments never fade.”

Enough said…here’s Sam:

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“The most read New York Times article from 2016 had nothing to do with politics, culture wars, or comic book movies. Instead, the most-read article of 2016 was all about commitment.

The piece, titled “Why You Will Marry the Wrong Person,” was written by Alain de Botton. In it, de Botton takes shots at our culture’s idea that the ultimate foundation for commitment in marriage is romantic affection, that feeling of compatibility that means the other person will finally fulfill my needs and make me truly happy.

We all know this is misguided, so much so that de Botton predicts every married person will eventually find inadequacies so severe in their spouse that it will prompt them to ask, “Did I marry the wrong person?” He humorously notes, the relational arc of a marriage leans away from idealistic romantic sizzle as “maddening children . . . kill the passion from which they emerged.”

CHURCH AND OUR CULTURE

As I read de Botton’s article, I couldn’t help but see how much of our culture’s view of love and commitment mirrors how many Christians view church membership. Many Christians’ broken relationships with their churches resemble patterns of the divorce culture and its attendant assumptions about authority, love, and compatibility.

Almost every Christian knows what it’s like to question whether they joined the “right church.” After an initial “honeymoon stage,” we begin to see our church’s problems with greater clarity than we see its strengths. The sermons start to seem too intellectual, or not intellectual enough. The church begins budgeting for ministries that don’t seem deserving of the dollar figure on the spreadsheet. The small groups don’t meet our needs in the ways we’d hoped.

More personally, the needs of other church members begin to encroach increasingly on our own personal freedoms. Some members sin against us—even without knowing just how deeply we’ve been wounded. Without even realizing it’s happening, we begin to wonder whether our local assembly is the “right” place for us. Of course, we remind ourselves that there’s no such thing as a perfect church—something we’ve even told our fellow church members. And yet, we can’t help but grapple with the nagging question: “Did I join the wrong church?”

“DID I JOIN THE WRONG CHURCH?”

The problem with this question is that it assumes church life shouldn’t be hard. It assumes the “honeymoon stage” should continue in perpetuity or that something has gone awry if we experience significant disappointment or hurt from our relationships with other members or the church’s leadership.

But these assumptions reveal a deep and unthinking commitment to consumerism: only if the perks of membership outweigh its inconveniences will we think it’s worth it to stick it out. Regrettably, many Christians seem trapped in a perpetual cycle of this type of cost-benefit analysis.

I’ve found that Christians most often push eject on their membership not because they’re upset at the church’s budget or because they disagree on matters of polity. Instead, Christians leave their churches for the same reason people leave their marriages: a lack of relational depth and affection. In other words, many Christians leave their churches because they just don’t seem compatible with the church or because the relationships leave them feeling a little dry.

Personal relationships, however, were never meant to serve as the foundation for our sense of church commitment. If we pursue relationships as the foundation of our belonging, we’re more likely to be inescapably trapped in the consumerism and “met-needs” mentality at the heart of our divorce culture. However, instead of valuing consumerism, the Bible roots our membership in the idea of a covenant, which offers an infinitely superior alternative.

COVENANT PRECEDES COMMUNITY

Tim Keller notes in his book on marriage that a covenant “creates a particular kind of bond . . . a relationship far more intimate and personal than a merely legal, business relationship. Yet at the same time, it is far more durable, binding, and unconditional than one based on mere feeling and affection. A covenant relationship is a stunning blend of law and love.”

When the Bible speaks about the church, it refers to it as a covenant community. Church members aren’t just part of a shared interest group. They’re covenanted to one another by a sacred promise to oversee one another’s membership in the kingdom and faithfulness to King Jesus (Matt. 18:15–20). The New Testament unfolds the details of that sacred promise: We regularly gather together (Heb. 10:24–25), bear one another’s burdens and sorrows (Gal. 6:2), encourage one another (Heb. 3:12–14), pray for one another (Jas. 5:16), and forgive one another (Col. 3:13). Many churches helpfully formalize these biblical instructions into a church covenant, a set of promises members make to one another when they enter into membership.

These covenant obligations are the foundations of our church commitment and should function as the backbone to church life. Covenant precedes community. We might even say covenant creates community. The covenant promises members make to one another blossom into the life-giving relationships our hearts crave.

Rooting commitment in our covenant promises doesn’t mean that church relationships are nothing but soulless duty. Instead, covenant commitments are the food that nourishes our relationships with other members. The more we hold ourselves to our covenant promises, the more our relationships blossom and endure through seasons of difficulty. Again, as de Botton perceptively notes in his article, “Compatibility is an achievement of love, it must not be its precondition.” The world argues that affection is pre-requisite to commitment. But the biblical picture is actually quite the opposite: commitment and service create affection.

I’m amazed at how this principle works out even in my own life. A few years ago, after a couple in our church had a baby, my wife and I signed up through the church’s member care ministry to bring them a meal. Our act of service, however, wasn’t rooted in a pre-existing relationship with this couple. In fact, we barely knew them. We simply wanted to be faithful to our covenant promises to “bear one another’s burdens.” Yet that service, rooted in our covenant commitment, ultimately blossomed into a sweet friendship between our two families. We weren’t expecting a relationship to bloom, but that’s what happens when you hold yourself to covenant promises, even with people you barely know.

COVENANTS CARRY YOU THROUGH SUFFERING

The reason God roots the most important relationships in the world—like marriage and church membership—in covenants is to ensure they endure through fire. Have you ever noticed how traditional marriage vows were designed to ensure couples prepare to love one another well in the midst of suffering? Couples pledge themselves to one another even in “poverty” and “sickness” until parted by death.

This same expectation of future trials also marks the promises church members make to one another. We pledge to “bear one another’s burdens,” (Gal. 6:2) and patiently bear with and forgive the sins of our brothers and sisters who wrong us (Col. 3:13; Eph. 4:32). If we make our covenant commitments the ground of our life and relationships in the church, we come to expect the rough patches and prepare to face them with godliness.

While our affections for our church and its members can be fickle, easily dissipating as soon as circumstances shift unfavorably, our covenant commitments never fade. As Keller notes, covenants are by their very nature oriented toward the future. They “are not a declaration of present love but a mutually binding promise of future love.” In some sense, the whole point of a covenant is to pledge our love and fidelity for the rough times ahead. Thus, covenants carry us through suffering. Once more, de Botton incisively notes, “Choosing whom to commit ourselves to is merely a case of identifying which particular variety of suffering we would most like to sacrifice ourselves for.”

FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, STICK WITH THE “WRONG” CHURCH

Joining a church, like seeking a spouse, is daunting. Loving others makes us vulnerable and committing ourselves to a church immerses us in the needs of other sinners. Eventually, every congregation will find a way to get under our skin, frustrate us, or even wound us—and we will do the same to them.

Our relationships will ebb and flow, as will our affection for the church. But the solution is not always looking for a better fit. Instead, we renew our passion and reignite our sense of belonging by holding ourselves to our membership covenant—sacred promises that bind even the “wrong” people together.”

Samuel Emadi is a member of Third Avenue Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky and a PhD candidate in biblical studies at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as the director of theological research for the president of the Southern Seminary. You can find him on Twitter at @scemadi.

Things I Wish I Could Tell My Younger Self About Calvinism (Or: How to Be Less of A Jerk)

by Stephen Altrogge

Another well-articulated and tastefully conveyed conviction to model myself after.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?

Jesus replied:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with

all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second

is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets

hang on these two commandments.” – Matthew 22:34-40

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” – 1 Corinthians 13:2

“When I first understood the Doctrines of Grace (more commonly known as Calvinism and/or Reformed theology), I felt like I had entered The Matrix (minus Keanu Reeves).

It was as if multiple puzzle pieces were clicking into place and a single, unified picture was becoming clear. Things that seemed somewhat confusingly jumbled, like the various covenants, Israel’s rejection of Christ, and weird statements in the book of Romans, suddenly came together, like in a television show when an enlightened detective starts drawing lines between various mug shots and newspaper clippings while heart-thumping music plays in the background.

All this was a big deal to me, and I quickly came to the conclusion that it was my mission from God to convert every person in existence to Calvinism. As you can imagine, this made me quite a pleasant person (insert record scratch noise).

As I’ve gotten older, slightly more godly and slightly less annoying, I’ve come to a few realizations about the place the Doctrines of Grace should hold in my life.

I wish I could go back in time and communicate these things to my younger self, although my younger self probably would have fiercely debated my older self and then come away concluding my older self was a moron.

What would I tell my younger self?

CALVINISM MATTERS, BUT IT’S NOT EVERYTHING

I treated the Doctrines of Grace as if they were the sum and substance of Christianity. As if when Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, he said, “Be sure you believe in election and total depravity!”

This full-throated zeal for all things Calvinist caused me to look down on those who were far more godly than me yet maybe didn’t agree with me on every point of doctrine.

Sure, you’ve given your entire life to serve orphans and widows in Cameroon, but you don’t believe in election, so what’s the point?

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my living room, wearing sweatpants and sipping coffee while I read Systematic Theology. 

It was absolutely pathetic.

I still believe that the Doctrines of Grace are crucially important to understanding Scripture, but there are other astonishingly important elements to following Jesus.

Like love. Mercy. Justice. Generosity. Serving. Compassion.

Calvinism should NOT be the dominant theme in everything I do as a Christian. Rather, it should be the background track, like the bass line in a Daft Punk song. Or, as John Newton said:

I am more of a Calvinist than anything else; but I use my Calvinism in my writing and preaching as I use this sugar. I do not give it alone, and whole; but mixed, and diluted… I think these doctrines should be in a sermon like sugar in a dish of tea, which sweetens every drop, but is nowhere to be found in a lump – tasted everywhere, though prominent nowhere.

IT’S NOT MY JOB TO CONVERT THE WORLD TO CALVINISM

For a brief time, I became the Mormon missionary of Calvinism (minus the weird name tag and odd underwear). I thought it was my job to convert all people to the gospel of Reformed doctrine, and if they didn’t convert, I became frustrated.

If someone disagreed with me, my brain began generating thoughts like this:

Why can’t they see it?!? They must be spiritually defective! They must be, like, a baby Christian or something! Have they not accepted John Piper into their hearts? Maybe if I just speak louder and longer, I can convince them of the truth. 

I foolishly assumed that it was my God-given responsibility to make sure that every person I knew fully agreed with everything I thought. As if I somehow had cornered the market on all sound doctrine and biblical understanding.

This is incredibly ironic given that the very heart of Reformed theology says God gets all the glory because he is the one ultimately responsible for all the saving, changing, and preserving. It’s like Alanis Morissette said: “Isn’t it ironic?”

Yes, yes it is.

I don’t debate about Reformed theology much these days. I’ll happily discuss it with someone who wants to, but I know that I can’t convince or change any person. If you want to chat about Calvinism, let’s grab a beer (a requirement of being Reformed) and we’ll hash it out.

CALVINISM IS NOT REQUIRED FOR GODLINESS

Some of the most godly, prayerful, loving, generous people I know, do not believe in Reformed theology. These people are so godly and so spirit-filled that they make me look like a headhunting pagan who plays with ouija boards for fun.

The truth is, godliness and Calvinism don’t necessarily go together. Calvinists have a somewhat well-earned reputation as pompous, self-righteous windbags who would rather write 10,000-word screeds than actually serve someone.

When I was younger, I assumed that a person who didn’t embrace Reformed theology was somehow less mature or godly than me. I look back and shudder.

I was the windbag.

I was the one who loved hearing myself talk.

I was the one who liked to toss around fancy theological words (double reprobation anyone?).

It was both terrifically ungodly and tremendously obnoxious. If you were at the business end of my weaponized Calvinism, I apologize.

I still fully embrace Reformed theology, but I now realize that it’s no longer necessary for godliness.

When John Wesley (an Arminian) was asked whether he thought he would see George Whitefield (a Calvinist) in heaven, he said, “No.” Then he said:

Do not misunderstand me, madam; George Whitefield was so bright a star in the firmament of God’s glory, and will stand so near the throne, that one like me, who am less than the least, will never catch a glimpse of him

I feel the same, but in the opposite direction. I expect I won’t see many of my fellow believers in heaven who don’t believe in Reformed theology because they will be much nearer the throne than me.

CALVINISM ISN’T THE SOLUTION FOR EVERY PROBLEM

When I first truly understood that God is sovereign over all things, that was a great comfort to me. God is working all things together for my good. God is the one responsible for saving people. God is in control of governments and presidential candidates (thank goodness!).

But too often, I treated the Doctrines of Grace as the cure-all medicine for every spiritual problem.

You’re struggling with worry? Don’t you believe God is sovereign?

You’re struggling with anger? Don’t you believe in total depravity?

You’re worried about whether you’ll make it to the end? Don’t you believe in perseverance of the saints?

You get the point. Calvinism became my miracle pill that I dispensed freely. No matter the circumstances, I was always quick to whip out my bottle of Reformed theology from my fanny pack of systematic theology (I think that analogy works).

I somehow failed to grasp that truth always goes down better when it’s preceded by grace, love, compassion, and the bearing of burdens. Grace is the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine of truth go down. Love, compassion, and empathy make it so much easier to hear truth.

Now I still talk encourage people with those same biblical truths, but not before I spend plenty of time simply listening and bearing burdens.

IN THE END

When Jesus returns and all is said and done, I don’t think we’ll be debating the finer points of theology. We’ll be so enraptured with the glory of God that not much else will matter.

Until then, I’ll seek to continue to learn from those who are more godly than me. By God’s grace, in 10 years I’ll be less of a pompous windbag than I am now.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to drink a craft beer while listening to a John Piper sermon.

Source: http://theblazingcenter.com/2016/11/things-wish-tell-younger-self-calvinism-less-jerk.html

Preach the Gospel to Yourself | Desiring God

By David Mathis

I'll never forget when I first learned about self-talk. I was in my young twenties early in my Army career learning about a very valuable skill set called resiliency - the ability to bounce back especially in the midst of turmoil and hardship. Many times it is we ourselves who turn a struggle that is truly small into something bigger than it should be. We "make a mountain out of a molehill." This is the result of negative self-talk and thinking.

In his book Spiritual Depression, D. Martyn Lloyd Jones introduces and reaffirms the idea of Godly self-talk. He challenges readers to follow the Psalmist's example relying solely on Psalm 42:5, 11 and 43:5. The context of the Psalm speaks for itself, beginning with "As the dear pants for the water brooks, so my soul longs for you, O God." God is the source of all our panting and the Psalmist if fully sure of this. Three times he reminds himself: 

"Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become disturbed within me?
Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him
For the help of His presence."

Becoming intimate with the Gospel means more than just reciting the basic truth of the Gospel each day. It means becoming intimate with Jesus Christ - allowing Him to minister His good news to practically permeate every every area of our lives as His disciples. It is important we remember to catch ourselves, especially in the morning, and take ourself by the hand and remind ourself of the Gospel. How God loves us, sent His only Son for us who lived among us and died for us, and ascended to heaven to intercede for us. I might add that we should remember that each day is the day that the Lord has made, and to be glad in it. (Ps 118:24)

Here's David:

No one is more influential in your life than you are. Because no one talks to you more than you do.

So observes Paul Tripp — and in doing so, he accents our need to daily preach the gospel to ourselves.

In our sin, we constantly find our responses to life in our fallen world to be disconnected from the theology that we confess. Anger, fear, panic, discouragement stalk our hearts and whisper in our ears a false gospel that will lure our lives away from what we say we believe.

The battleground, says Tripp, is meditation. What is it that is capturing your idle thoughts? What fear or frustration is filling your spare moments?

Will you just listen to yourself, or will you start talking? No, preaching — not letting your concerns shape you, but forming your concerns by the gospel.

Defensive and Offensive

Preaching the gospel to ourselves is a spiritual discipline that is both proactive and reactive. It’s reactive as we encounter temptation and frustration and seek to restock in the moment, or as we reflect back on our sin and circumstances and try to evaluate them with a gospel lens.

But it’s also proactive — it goes on the offensive — when we feed our souls in some regular rhythm before the events and tasks and disappointments of daily life begin streaming our way. Tripp counsels that we make it a daily practice to 1) gaze on the beauty of Christ, 2) remember who we are as a child of God, 3) rest in his power and provision, and then 4) act in reliance upon him.

The Gospel and the Scriptures

There is a difference, Tripp notes, between merely reminding ourselves of truth, and preaching to ourselves the truth of the gospel. The latter is self-consciously and intentionally reminding ourselves of the person and presence and provisions of our Redeemer.

But while gospel self-preaching is not the same thing as Bible reading, the connections and interdependences are profound. The Scriptures, says Tripp, provide the material for preaching to ourselves the gospel of grace. They are the content to be taken up and applied to our lives in view of Jesus’s person and work.

It will not adequately strengthen our soul, in the long run, just to hear the same canned gospel repeated over and over. Neither will it sustain our spiritual lives to merely take in information without seeing it in light of Jesus, and pressing it into our hearts.

Our 50th Episode

In this new episode of Theology Refresh — our 50th episode overall — Paul Tripp shoots us straight about this all-important practice of preaching to ourselves, and helps us understand the need for, and the power in, this life-giving Christian routine.

Source: http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/preach-the-gospel-to-yourself

Brothers, God is The Gospel

The ultimate end of the gospel is coming home to God, implores John Piper.

God is the gospel.

The point of that simple sentence is that the highest, best, and final good in the good news is God himself.

In no way do I want to diminish what has traditionally and biblically been called “the gospel” —I just want to make sure we tell the whole story. So here’s my summary of Jesus’ gospel in six steps. These are all essential. If any one of them were to be removed, there would be no gospel.

1. THE GOSPEL IS A PLAN

The gospel originated in the mind of God. It was his plan before the foundation of the world.  (Genesis 3)

2. THE GOSPEL IS AN EVENT

The gospel is an event in history. It really happened. If there was no historical Jesus, and if he did not die and rise from the dead, there would be no gospel. (Matthew – Acts)

3. THE GOSPEL IS AN ACHIEVEMENT

In dying, Jesus absorbed the wrath of God. (2Corinthians 5:21)

4. THE GOSPEL IS A FREE OFFER

The good news would vanish if all that “achievement” on the cross were available only by the performance of sufficient good deeds. Therefore, an essential part of the gospel is that this news is proclaimed to all and offered freely to whoever will have faith in Jesus. (Ephesians 2)

5. THE GOSPEL IS AN APPLICATION OF CHRIST’S ACHIEVEMENT TO THE WORLD

The fundamental way all the achievements of Christ become ours is by union with Christ. This is why the tiny phrase “in Christ” is so prevalent in the New Testament.

Now this is where the gospel message usually ends. Plan. Event. Achievement. Free offer. Application. And, of course, this is a glorious ending, but there is still a sixth and final step. (Ephesians 1; 2Corinthians 5:17)

6. THE BEST AND FINAL GOOD

I return to my question: What is the highest and best and final good in the good news?

Second Corinthians 4:4 and 6 (below, emphasis mine) tell us the answer: the glory of God in the face of Christ, or, the glory of Christ who is the image of God.

In their case [the case of those who are perishing] the god of this world [that’s Satan] has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. . . . For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

This is a real glory, a real spiritual light that shines through the gospel from Christ in his saving work and is seen not with the physical eyes but with the eyes of the heart (Eph. 1:17–18).

Brothers, this is what I think our people need to hear over and over: forgiveness and justification and eternal life are good for one ultimate reason—they bring us to God himself.

The ultimate end of the gospel is coming home to God. Knowing him. Seeing him unsullied with our own sin. Enjoying him with the capacities for joy that heaven alone will give. “In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Ps. 16:11).

Brothers, God is the gospel. What a difference it makes in a church when the people know this and embrace it with all their hearts!

Source: http://theresurgence.com/2013/03/10/brothers-god-is-the-gospel