They Actually Said It

Jeff VanVonderen in Families Where Grace In In Place says,

Paul was angry at the Galatians. His letter to them is a scathing confrontation of the fact that they had been "walking by the flesh" instead of the Spirit. But the "flesh" for the Galatians was not pornography, drunkenness, or thievery. The Galatians had begun to measure their acceptance spiritually by whether or not they performed certain religious behaviors. They let religious performance direct the way they acted, instead of allowing that Spirit to do so. Paul calls this "walking in the flesh."

I saw this statement quoted and looked it up to see if he actually said this. He actually did.

What’s interesting is what the Apostle Paul actually said to the Galatians:

Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are: immorality, impurity, sensuality,  20 idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions,  21 envying, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these, of which I forewarn you, just as I have forewarned you, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. (Galatians 5:19-21)

Comparing VanVonderen’s statement to Paul’s it raises a curious problem: How can VanVandoren say that the “the "flesh" for the Galatians was not pornography, drunkenness, or thievery” when Paul calls the flesh two of those three—sexual immorality and drunkenness? (Though Paul leaves out thievery, it’s doubtful he intended thievery to be understood as a work of the Spirit.)

Surely VanVonderen isn’t hanging his argument on “deeds of,” as in Paul said “deeds of the flesh” while he is just saying “flesh.”

And it raises a significant question: What possesses an author, a Christian author, to completely ignore what the Bible says in order to make his own point? Should we not have more reverence for the text than that?

This leads me to say two things.

First, the text is not our servant. It is our master. So we must say what the text says, even if it doesn’t say what we want to say. If we want to say something else, we need to find a text that says that (before we attach our own desires to it).

Second, there is a lot of much needed talk about grace today. For far too many people in Christian circles, grace gets way too little discussion, and even less use.

But in some circles, grace gets redefined in such a way—as with VanVonderen—to ignore what grace actually is. Such talk of grace completely misses the grace of the Bible and substitutes something else in its place. Then, anyone who actually names the sins in the Bible as being sins that should be avoided are accused of being legalists.

But much of the talk about grace seems like VanVonderen’s—it completely misses the Bible. The grace of the Bible does not refuse to actually read (and say) what the Bible says.

What God defines the flesh for us in Galatians 5:19-21, we do not have the liberty to define some other way, even in the pursuit of a good message, which isn’t even good if it doesn’t deal with Scripture rightly.

The grace of the Bible is the grace that teaches us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live soberly and righteously and godly in this present age (Titus 2:11-15).

The curious thing is that I doubt VanVonderen would allow for pornography, drunkenness, or thievery as legitimate practices of a Christian life. So why say it like he did?

I have no idea. I wonder if perhaps there is a fear of appearing legalistic. Perhaps a superficial understanding of grace. Maybe an oversight or a failure to write precisely. Maybe just a bone-headed “oops.”

Yet we must take care to say everything that the Bible says about grace and flesh, about holiness and sinfulness, about life in the Spirit and true salvation.

Let us not soft-pedal the grace of the gospel by failing to say everything that the Bible says about it.

Why Paul?

Paul was an apostle who was “untimely born” (1 Corinthians 15:8). This means that he did not meet the only stated New Testament qualification for an apostle: One who has “accompanied us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us—beginning with the baptism of John until the day that He was taken up from us— one of these must become a witness with us of His resurrection" (Acts 1:21-22).

The eleven disciples apparently had picked up along the way with Jesus this idea that a “witness to the resurrection” should have been there all along the way.

Paul was not.

Why did God choose Paul and thus make such an exception to the will of the eleven apostles gathered in the upper room?

Perhaps the answer is found in 1 Timothy 1 where Paul gives the briefest of biographies (something a number of testifiers could learn from). He says he was a blasphemer and a persecutor.

Yet he found mercy so “Jesus Christ might demonstrate His perfect patience as an example for those who would believe in Him for eternal life” (1 Timothy 1:16).

In other words, Paul’s salvation and subsequent ministry is a reminder to us all that God is not limited by our past, and Jesus is bigger than our past.

It is a reminder to us who have sinned (and who among us hasn’t).

It is also a reminder to us about those to whom God has called us to minister.

Let us not forget that if God saved Paul and used him to turn the world upside with the gospel, whoever you  are working with is not beyond the reach of that kind of mercy.

Carson on Drifting

Justin Taylor reposts this today from D. A. Carson:

People do not drift toward holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, and obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord.

We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance;

we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom;

we drift toward superstition and call it faith.

We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation;

we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism;

we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated.

I think that freedom, legalism, and grace have at times become code words for good old-fashioned disobedience. Liberty in Christ has become an excuse to swim in the waters of the world’s cultural expressions of their fallen values.

Such a tactic is just as insidious and soul-destroying as the legalism they profess to hate.

People have, in many cases I believe, allowed their freedom to become a covering for evil (2 Peter 2:16; Galatians 5:13), whether overt evil of action or the more respectable evil of attitude (“well, at least I didn’t actually do it”) and response (“they did it first”).

Furthermore, somewhere, some have gotten the idea that grace in Christ (our only hope) means that we do not have to confess our sins, that it is wrong to put up walls to help us be holy. I have actually seen a call to confession of sin named legalism. It is indeed a strange world we live in.

Listen, the fact that we are completely and eternally made acceptable to God in Christ alone does not mean that it is impossible to displease our Father. Sin, even in the life of the believer, is met by the gospel and repentance.

So let us guard our souls with great diligence. The flood of influence rises strong and swift against the Spirit’s work in our lives.

Confession, repentance, and self-denial are the evidence of freedom.

Just Thinking …

What does it say when we consider that the “Problem of Evil” consumes so much of our attention, and the “Problem of Good” consumes so little?

We get up in the morning and say, “Why do I have to hurt like this?” or “Why did my loved one die?” or “Why do I have to lose my job?” followed by “What was God thinking when he did that?”

We rarely get up and say, “Wow … God saved me (or my loved one) from the results of my sin for one more day. Why did he do that? What was God thinking when he did that?”

I would submit that the problem of  good in our world is at least as great a problem as the problem of evil. It perhaps speaks to our self-centered nature and our lack of a robust understanding of humanity that we do not see it.

Okay, One More on Sanford

But for a different reason.

An article in today’s The State (Columbia, SC’s newspaper) is entitled “Sanford’s mental state questioned.”

Some are suggesting a “deeper personality disorder,” a “chemical imbalance, narcissism, and impulsive behavior.” Some are saying he lost contact with reality and should get a psychiatric evaluation.

Yes to narcissism, impulsive behavior, and loss of contact with reality. He is definitely narcissistic and impulsive. He seems to, at least for a time, have lost contact with reality.

But that’s not a mental disorder. That’s life. A psychiatric evaluation won’t help that. It is a spiritual issue. Of course, secular psychologists have no category for that because they lack understanding of humanity. They are the ones out of contact with reality.

Reality is that humanity is helplessly narcissistic. Life is all about self. We are instinctively impulsive, because we do what it takes to satisfy our narcissism. We want it and so we go try to get it. Sometimes we succeed and sometimes we fail. 

The search for a mental disorder, even the very suggestion of it, is evidence of the “blame something else” mentality that infects the world. It can’t be because Sanford is a sinner (like the rest of us). There has to be something wrong with him.

The only true hope for mankind is reality—the reality that we are sinners in need of a Savior. When we come into believing contact with that reality (the only reality there is), the narcissism will fade, the impulses will start to come under control.

A culture of irresponsibility is being fostered by those who suggest mental disorders are why men seek out immoral relationships and power. It’s actually a culture of narcissism that is divorced from the reality of personal sinfulness.

We need a culture of grace. This culture says (to borrow from Tim Keller) I am far worse off than I ever dared to imagine. But through Jesus I am far more loved and accepted than I ever dared to hope.

Until we realize we are fallen creatures who can’t get up, we will continue to look for other things to blame. Only when I reach the depths of hopeless can I see the cross as the real solution.

It may not save my position in life (whether governor, pastor, or anything else). It may not save my marriage. But it will save my soul and give me eternal hope and a new paradigm for living in a broken down world.

How to Discern God’s Grace

We often hear statements like “God’s grace was all that got me through that situation.”

But we here from all kinds of people, even from those who show no evidence of God’s grace in their life?

So how do we know when God’s grace has sustained us?

It cannot be when we experience relief from trial or suffering. It cannot be when we feel better about trial or suffering. Many people who wouldn’t know the difference between God and a hole in the ground experience relief from suffering, or feel better in the midst of suffering.

The evidence of God’s grace is that I still believe, even if I am suffering.

So we ask, Did God’s grace sustain me through that trial? Or did I merely by sheer force of will and desire manage to get through it? Outwardly, it will look very similar. Inwardly, it will be very different.

I will know God’s grace has sustained me and is sustaining me when, in the midst of trial and at the end of trial, I still believe that Jesus is my only hope, and I follow him regardless of the cost.

(Ted) Haggard and Hope

While many become haggard looking for hope, former pastor and president of the National Association of Evangelicals reminds us just how deceitful and hopeless sin can be.

Ted Haggard was on Oprah this week talking about his therapy, but probably mostly selling his HBO movie.

He talked of some experience as a child that he never thought of as sexual abuse but when he casually mentioned to his therapist that he was still wetting the bed and wetting his pants in the sixth grade, the therapist thought some more exploration was necessary. Apparently this experience is at least part of the cause of Haggard's homosexual struggles.

I didn't listen enough to get the full story, but in the short part I listened to, I was reminded of just how deceitful sin can be.

At the moment Haggard attached his homosexual struggles to an event that happened forty years earlier, he lost his hope. You see, out of everything that Haggard can change, his past is not one of them.

Once we believe that our behavior is caused by past experiences, we have no hope of future change. Why? Because the past will never change.

Only when Haggard realizes that his homosexual dalliances were caused solely by his wicked heart searching for satisfaction apart from God can he find hope for change.

In biblical discipleship, we must refuse to allow people to blame the past for present actions. It removes the ground of hope.

Only when we place our problems in our wicked hearts can we find hope, because Jesus died to purchase our salvation and change our heart.

The only thing from the past that will help me find change is the cross of Christ. If you are going to focus on the past, at least go back to the part of the past that can actually help you.

John Owen on Guilt

"Guilt-free" is one of the ubiquitous idols of a modern generation. From eating to sex to entertainment to crime, people do not want to experience guilt about anything, whether real guilt (liability for punishment) or emotional guilt (feeling bad about doing something).

Even Christian counselors, yes, even biblical counselors, spend much time exhorting people on ways to deal with guilt and live in the grace and forgiveness of God.

In his book, On the Mortification of Sin, John Owen takes the opposite tack. Rather than trying to escape guilt, he says,

"Load thy conscience with the guilt of [sin]. Not only consider that it hath a guilt, but load thy conscience with the guilt of its actual eruptions and disturbances" (p. 56).

And then:

Bring thy lust to the gospel , — not for relief, but for farther conviction of its guilt; look on Him whom thou hast pierced, and be in bitterness. Say to thy soul, “What have I done? What love, what mercy, what blood, what grace have I despised and trampled on! Is this the return I make to the Father for his love , to the Son for his blood , to the Holy Ghost for his grace ? Do I thus requite the Lord? (p. 58).

How many of us counsel people to consider the guilt of their sin even more? Do we take them(or ourselves) too quickly to grace?

While that might seem a strange question, perhaps (and I think this is Owen's point) too little meditation on the guilt of sin has led to an attitude towards sin which does not take mortification seriously.

We don't want to kill it, to pulverize it, to remove every last vestige from our souls. Why? Because we do not really grasp its guilt. No, not the way it makes us feel. But rather what it did to our Savior.

We simply want to get over it, to not think about, to live "guilt-free."

Perhaps Owen could be meditated on with some profit here.