Pure Church

I am a Calvinist. And I am a Pharisee. Apparently, there are others like me.

As a "Calvinist," I treasure the Bible's truths about the glory of God and Christ; the good, wise and sovereign rule of God in all things; the efficacy of God's electing grace and Jesus' definite atonement; the hope that comes from God's preservation and the call to perseverance; the present and coming-more-fully kingdom of Christ where righteousness reigns; and the promised share of His glory we'll experience in the consummation. I treasure these things, as I know a lot of people do.

But I'm also a Pharisee. I tend toward a kind of care for detail and precision, toward "getting things right," that undermines catholicity and charity (see here). As a Pharisee, I also find myself suspicious of a lot of things, including joy (see here). Tight and sober. Suspicious and narrow. Pharisee.

Most of my Calvinist friends maintain that of all Christians Calvinists should be the most joyful and the most humble. We should be. We're not. I'm not. Let me not project.

Merely analyzing the truth doesn't make us humble. Neither does merely being suspicious make us safe with the truth. Pharisees think analyzing and suspecting are enough. And so, in time, the Pharisee's life becomes almost entirely negative. It's negative in attitude. But it's negative also because it's negating; it's a "contra-" life, a life a being against things.

But we have to defend against error. We have to guard the truth. We must protect the gospel. I know. I know. Pharisee.

There's something else that makes me a Pharisee. It underlies most of the other things that turn celebrants of Truth into gnat-straining Pharisees. Here's the third reason I'm a Pharisee and Calvinist, or, another reason why those two things happen together far more often than they should. The Pharisee in the Calvinist... is afraid. Fear loiters in his heart and mind like a senior feeding pigeons in Central Park.

The Pharisee lives with a chronic fear. That's why the Reformed types are so often the 'chicken littles' of the Christian world--running everywhere, writing everywhere, screaming everywhere, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" And even when we're not as manic as that, we're quietly, respectfully afraid. Just like the Pharisees of old.

We're afraid someone will take our place--the "others" who don't believe this, who don't practice that, or worse, who do practice that! Not them! We're afraid the church will be weakened and corrupted, that tares will grow up with the wheat. We're afraid our own hollow spiritual lives will be discovered. We're afraid our children won't be believers or won't do well in school (and we're more afraid of the latter than the former). We're afraid the culture is going to get worse and overrun the church. We're afraid of men's faces.

Fear, fear, fear. Everywhere there is fear.

But didn't Jesus say the wheat and tare would grow together? Didn't He say the love of many would grow cold? Didn't the Savior say there would be wolves and false Christs and deceivers? Of course He did. But the Pharisee says in his heart, "Yes, Lord. Of course, you're right. I believe that. Let me just remove this one little tare or patch of tares over here." The Pharisee is not only afraid, he's also blind. I can't tell the wheat from the tares; the Lord's angels will one day stick the sickle in the harvest to reap. But I don't remember that because we're afraid.

Then the Pharisee speaks: "But what if that takes too long? What if bad things happen in the meantime? What if... what if... what if...." Pharisee.

Pick an issue. My first response is fear, not faith. I don't call it "fear"; I call it "concern." That's more respectable. And who is respectable if not the Pharisee. And even when I do call it "fear," I pretend I mean something other than being afraid. Gotta keep my head up; I'm a Pharisee.

And this is why Pharisaical tendencies make us such bad Calvinists (by which I mean Christians, though not as if Calvinists are the only Christians). The scared little Pharisee in me is a practical atheist. He acts as though the truth I know about God really isn't at work. And it's a nasty little cycle. My fear that God won't act--at least how I want Him to act--causes me to act in my own wisdom or strength. Which then makes me afraid all the more. And so it goes until I'm wrapped and squeezed by an Anaconda of fear. The Pharisee.

Before I was a Calvinist, I suppose you could call me a semi-Pelagian, Arminian, dispensationalist. I suppose. I didn't have the labels then, but that's a fair sense of how I thought and acted. Not everyone wearing those labels thought this way, but I acted as though everything depended on me. My action in the world was the determining factor--whether that meant I had to be especially insightful and convincing in something like evangelism or Johnny wouldn't "get saved," or whether I had to "keep myself saved" in some way. My theology was bad. And my chief fear then was, what if I fail.

Then I discovered this mighty God on whom the governance of the universe rests. He was pleased to use means--human and otherwise--but He was the One ruling and guaranteeing the success of His will. How liberating that was! So I was freed from the fears associated with my performance.

But I wasn't freed from being a Pharisee. I just chose other fears. Excuse me, other "concerns." The kind of concerns that keep me employed as a Pharisee for as long as I would like, because, let's face it, there's no shortage of things to be "concerned" about. I can point out problems everywhere. I'm a Pharisee.


But the problem with Pharisees is they feel their fear and they fail to do anything constructive.

So I am "concerned" and not serving. I am afraid and not loving. I am "aghast" rather than empathetic. I am "hesitant" rather than enthusiastic. I am "alarmed" rather than steadfast. I'm an expert in fear and its synonyms. I can think of seventeen synonyms right now.

But how many synonyms for "grace" or "trust" can I count? Pharisee. How many can you count?

I am a Pharisee. Hear me roar--in fear.

In the end, the Pharisee is a silly man, a silly contradiction to the Calvinist. Fear? Really? Look upon Jesus the King you silly little man! Look to the Lord of glory!

What is this new fad you're up in arms about? What is this new "movement" causing your temperature to rise? What is this weakness in your life and your church making your shoulders tense? What threat over the horizon really is a threat to the Risen King and Ruler of All Creation who defeated death, pushed back the grave, and promised that the gates of hell would not prevail against His church?

Why are you afraid, O my soul? Why are you timorous, O my soul? My soul, I will look to the Lord who counsels "Be not afraid for I am with you."

I am a Calvinist, and I am an afraid Pharisee. I shouldn't be. What I need is a fresh glimpse of Jesus. The One I need to fear is God alone.

I'm reminded of another Calvinist (speaking anachronistically, of course) who faced fears and terror everywhere--real ones. But he glimpsed Jesus. And he spoke, "And now, O Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to observe the Lord's commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good?" (Deut. 10:12-13)

O, Father, grant that perfect love would cast out all fear as we live for you and reverence your holy Name.

I am a Calvinist. And I am a Pharisee. This shouldn't be the case, but it is. Admitting you have a problem is the first step in getting better.


Last time I tried to reflect on how a certain "bent" toward precision, accuracy, concern for detail seems to blend together with the rich exacting resources of Reformed theology and history to make Pharisees of those who lose sight of the object of our attention and affection: Jesus. If you care more about "getting it right" than you care about "getting close to Jesus," then you'll drift toward the Pharisees. You'll swallow a camel and strain a gnat.

But let me not project onto you the things that happen in my heart and head. I am bent toward all those things, and I lose sight of Jesus too often and for too long.

I'm a Pharisee. And I'm a Calvinist. And I'm told and believe those two things don't belong together. But why do they so often come together, like a dark prize hidden in the Cracker Jacks of the faith?

Here's the second reason I'm a Pharisee and Calvinist, or, another reason why those two things happen together far more often than they should. The Pharisee and the Calvinist are both suspicious.

Now I'm suspicious of a lot of things, but I'll just mention one. I'm suspicious of joy. Yep. Now, not my joy. That's another problem.

No. Like a good Pharisee, other people's joy makes me nervous. Not all people. Just those people who don't express their joy the precise way I think they should. You see, without the "appropriate bounds" their joy just may make them careless, lead them to error, hurt the church and cause of Christ. Their joy is combustible; it's dangerous. It's enthusiasm and flights of fancy that need to ballast of sobriety and sound theology.

You see, that bent toward intellectual and precise things, that concern to "get it right," sometimes leads us to suspect and question mirth, lightness, or merriment because those emotions appear too close to "trivial" for the Pharisee. If I'm serious about the truth, how can I be joyful?

I say to myself, perhaps you say to yourself, not out loud, of course: "All these happy people--happy about everything but the Truth, giving themselves to their happy little pursuits, singing loudly and clapping their hands, enthusiastic about everything--can't be trusted. They are to be suspected. They're to be watched carefully and 'taught'."

I know. I know. Teaching is good. Teaching is essential. Teaching guides the emotions. Teaching is commanded. Pharisee.

Didn't Jesus warn us of the Pharisee's teaching? For good reason. I wonder if for some of us "teaching" is simply another word for "behavioral modification," for "rehabilitation," for "re-education," for "concentration camp." People must be "taught"--by which we mean made to see everything just as I do. Pharisee.

I am a Calvinist, and I am a Pharisee. I've been "taught". Sometimes "taught" right out of joy.

Don't get me wrong. I know that joy may be expressed in all kinds of ways. I know the strong, silent type doesn't express his/her joy like the naturally outward and gregarious type. And I know that joy itself has many flavors--jubilant, quiet, solemn, tearful, and so on. But Pharisees like me only trust the quiet, solemn types. If joy gets too loud, it needs to be silenced. Pharisees like it quiet.

But then there is my good friend, C.J. Ah... there's "Reformed" spelled "p-a-r-t-y!" I love that brother! He dots all my "i's" and crosses all my "t's". So, his joy is okay. Cool, even. But he is an exception, of course, because I'm a Pharisee.

Also there is my good friend, Mark. If you think C.J. is the life of the party and Mark is a sour puss, you don't know Mark. About as silly, giddy, happy, optimistic, bright and joyful a man as you'll ever meet. Don't let the "SBC" or "Calvinist" labels fool you. Those labels are like the FBI warnings on your rented video or the "do not remove" tags on your mattress. Mark is a big... excuse me, slim ball of joyful energy. His love for the truth, like C.J., and Al and Lig' and Piper and R.C. and so many others, leads them to joy! Have you ever heard these men laugh? It's rowdy! They're serious men. And (I almost wrote "But"; you see the problem?) they're joyful men.




















But not me. Not the Pharisee.

When did I become suspicious of joy? I mean joy is what the angels announce for crying out loud! (Luke 2:10)

Some of my oldest friends, going back to high school and college, would describe me as "silly." I know. I know. What happened to that guy?

Well, he got saved and he started with joy; then he turned into a Pharisee.

Now, I've always been serious. Really. Always. Ask my mom. She still tells family and friends about how my friends used to come over to play, and rather than play with them, I'd connect the Atari (now that's ol' school) to the TV and then go into my room and read. From my early teens, I've been the family counselor. I'm an old soul, born with a veil over his face (little family superstition, there), and serious.

But I used to be fairly joyful, too. I think. Maybe. You see... I can't remember. Perhaps you're like me. It's been so long since you've had a sustained life of joy, you can't remember the last time you were joyful. As a disposition not an episode. Do you remember? Having a joyful disposition for a long time?

Maybe you're a Pharisee, or a Pharisee in the making. Stop before it goes too far. Get happy. Now don't get serious about joy. Just get joyful. Or else you'll be a Pharisee. Like me.

The Pharisee lacks joy because he lacks Jesus. I don't mean Pharisees like me aren't Christians. I am I trust. I mean "the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field" (Matt. 13:44). There's something implicit in this parable that if not made explicit leaves room for my inner Pharisee. What do you suppose the man did after he bought the field? The Pharisee doesn't go on to imagine the answer. The joyful do. In his joy the man sold all and purchase the field so that he might possess and enjoy the Treasure therein. We may lack Jesus by not enjoying Jesus, by not coming into His presence where there is fullness of joy and pleasure forevermore.

The Calvinist knows this. The Pharisee forgets this. Feed the Calvinist and strangle the Pharisee.

There once was a Calvinist (speaking anachronistically, of course), who was not himself a Pharisee but dealt with them a lot. He prayed for joy--my joy and yours. Here's how He prayed, "I am coming to you [the Father] now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them" (John 17:13). Let that sit with you. The Savior prayed for what the Calvinist Pharisee needs: the full measure of His joy.

Dear Sovereign Lord, the Joy of the world, let us know you, and thereby grant our heavy hearts liberating joy.

Remember Angela and Andy? They're a young couple who have been dating for the past year and they've now come to you/your church to be married. As you speak with Andy you learn that both have been divorced. This will be their second marriage.

In Andy's case, his first wife had been unfaithful and they eventually divorced over the adultery. Andy and his first wife were professing Christians. In Angela's case, she had been unfaithful to her husband, leading to a divorce. At the time, neither Angela nor her husband were believers.

Andy's first wife has gone on to remarry and now lives with her second husband and four children across town. Angela's first husband has not remarried.

These are individuals who will find that following Jesus requires counting the costs, denying themselves and bearing their cross. I think we sometimes forget the weightiness of this for people looking to follow the Savior.

The Costs

Most people would say that Andy is free to remarry since he was not the one who broke the marriage covenant with his first wife. I think that's the majority interpretation of passages like Matthew 5 and 19. But there are some who argue that remarriage isn't appropriate even for Andy. See here for one example.

But what is certain is that Andy cannot continue a relationship with Angela. The cost of following Jesus will be ending a one-year romantic interest on the verge of marriage. And that won't be easy. I think most people in this situation would make an appeal to forgiveness or grace or freedom, and leave off any personal application of the divorce and remarriage passages. They'll miss the import of Titus 2:11-12; grace teaches us to obey Christ. Grace never makes it okay to disobey. The challenge for Andy will be deciding that marriage to Angela is not a "right" to be jealously grasped. Rather, he must embrace the freedom that comes from obedience and choose what appears an inconvenient and perhaps foolish course.


Angela will have the same cost to pay: she cannot marry Andy. Moreover, as I understand the Scripture, she cannot ever remarry. To remarry would be adultery.

Consider the cost of following Jesus for Angela. There is terminating the relationship with Andy. There is the foreclosure of any romantic relationship for the remainder of her life. There is the preclusion of ever having children naturally. Having known the joys marital intimacy, there is now a life of celibacy ahead.

For most people, that's a staggering list of costs. In my short experience, most would rather disobey the Lord and pursue these desires than obey Him in love. When presented with these issues, many walk away from the faith and the church, unwilling to pay the costs once counted.


Helping Andy and Angela
It's the church's call to help this brother and sister walk worthy of the callings they have received in Christ. What does that look like?

1. Helping Andy and Angela think in biblical terms about grace. There's much that could be said here, but at least two aspects are critical. First, as Titus 2:11-2 points out, saving grace actually teaches us to say "no" to ungodliness and to live sober, godly lives in this evil age. One dark, domineering thought they each will have is: I can't do this. This is too much. I don't want to say 'no' to this desire. How will we make it? The answer from the Scripture is God will teach you with His grace.

Second, this means that in whatever situation God calls us, His grace will be sufficient for us. People in this situation imagine the happy, harp-playing glories of love and marriage. They daydream about a life of joy and bliss on one side of the ledger. And they compare that to an imagined life of unrelenting suffering, loneliness, and so on. Their imagination is rigged, biased in favor of their desires and against God's calling. They are sympathetic with their own sinful impulses and resistant to God's path and wisdom. In that sense, they're loving darkness rather than the light. What they need help to see is that a life of fruitful, joyful singleness is not only possible but real for many. Moreover, the same grace that meets them in their sin provides for them in all God's callings and commands. His commands are not burdensome. His yoke is easy. He will not quench the smoking flax. Grace calls us to imagine that the best possible future lies in the path God chooses instead of the path of our desires.

2. Help Andy and Angela understand the necessity of the local church family. Rather than leave the church, Andy and Angela should be helped to plug even more deeply in their local fellowships. They'll need the support and counsel of godly family in the household of God. They'll likely want to go places where no one is "butting into their business," or someplace where people tell them what they want to hear. They'll likely begin pulling away from the family. But this is when the family needs to be most aware of their struggles and most caring. Whether through a small group of fellow saints or with concentrated one-on-one discipleship, Andy and Angela need to be tethered tightly to the church so that they're helped to think in biblical ways, process their feelings, and walk out their callings.


3. In time, help Andy and Angela with finding ways of expressing their desires. This may mean helping Andy to remarry as the Lord provides a woman free to marry. This might mean helping Angela consider adoption if she wants to parent. The difficult part of this situation is that Andy and Angela can't have the lives they desire with each other. But that doesn't mean they can't have elements of their desired lives at all. Careful counseling, pastoral leadership, and support from the church family should work to encourage each of them to fully embrace the range of life opportunities the Lord provides within the good boundaries of His word and will. There will be a million opportunities for glorifying Jesus with their lives, even if they aren't the traditional ways of doing some of them.

Well, that's my sense of things. No easy answers. Or perhaps there are some easy answers, but the implementation is emotionally taxing and messy.

Your Turn

I would love to hear what you think. How would you counsel a couple in a situation like this? Do you know any situations like this and how have you helped/failed to help in the past? What can we learn from each other?

Came across this well-written and helpful admonishment against that kind of "communication" that's almost always a hidden agenda that hurts or divides without ever taking ownership.

The Great A&W Incident, as it’s known around our house, baptized me into the murky waters of church ministry and the sideways, backhanded, upside-down channels we use to communicate with one another in the family. Before The Incident, I assumed we would all talk to each other. Not around each other.

What a naive dork I turned out to be.

It was a small thing, The Incident. But it fit into a larger pattern of crooked-line communication that one day, years later, helped break a church into a million tiny pieces.

Sadly, this kind of communication breaks a lot of relationships--churches, marriages, business partnerships--into a million tiny pieces. Read the entire piece here: "Is Anonymous Your First or Last Name?"

"America’s churches always reflect shifts in the broader culture...."

That line in Hana Rosin's article, "Did Christianity Cause the Crash?", nearly ripped my eyes out of the socket. "America's churches always reflect shifts in the broader culture."

I don't think Rosin meant this as an indictment. In the article, the sentence serves simply as a transition between paragraphs.

But how woefully true that statement is. And with the force of a sledgehammer, I'm reminded this morning that churches are supposed to be other-worldly. There is supposed to be a pilgrim's attitude and dress adorning the church, a sojourners longing for home with Jesus where righteousness reigns.

It's too easy to beat up on the church for being materialistic. The evidence is too plentiful. We've reached the point where writers like Rosin can even ask if a worldwide economic crash isn't in fact fueled by "Christian" materialism and greed. Rosin writes:

Many explanations have been offered for the housing bubble and subsequent crash: interest rates were too low; regulation failed; rising real-estate prices induced a sort of temporary insanity in America’s middle class. But there is one explanation that speaks to a lasting and fundamental shift in American culture—a shift in the American conception of divine Providence and its relationship to wealth.

Greg Forster over at The American takes issue with the link Rosin draws between Christianity and the economic crash. Blaming Christianity for the crash may be too simplistic, but there can be little doubt that "a shift in American (global?) conception of divine Providence and its relationship to wealth" has occurred. And with that shift comes a fundamental shift in our conception of God himself. No longer does God work in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform. Now God works on Wall Street, or at least at my local bank, and his wonders are performed for my personal account and net worth. No longer is God ultimately interested in His own glory in the redemption of sinners, but for many God is mainly interested in me, my prosperity, and my ambitions. Any salvation is a means to prosperity now, in this life. And that has deeply affected the personal decision-making and emotional state of millions and millions of people in the States and worldwide.


A "personal relationship with Jesus" isn't much different than a "personal financial advisor" for many professing Christians. Sure, Jesus is more powerful than your commission-working certified financial advisor; but in the end, it's basically the same line of work.

Rosin describes the pervasiveness of prosperity theology in America's churches:

Among mainstream, nondenominational megachurches, where much of American religious life takes place, “prosperity is proliferating” rapidly, says Kate Bowler, a doctoral candidate at Duke University and an expert in the gospel. Few, if any, of these churches have prosperity in their title or mission statement, but Bowler has analyzed their sermons and teachings. Of the nation’s 12 largest churches, she says, three are prosperity—Osteen’s, which dwarfs all the other megachurches; Tommy Barnett’s, in Phoenix; and T. D. Jakes’s, in Dallas. In second-tier churches—those with about 5,000 members—the prosperity gospel dominates. Overall, Bowler classifies 50 of the largest 260 churches in the U.S. as prosperity. The doctrine has become popular with Americans of every background and ethnicity; overall, Pew found that 66 percent of all Pentecostals and 43 percent of “other Christians”—a category comprising roughly half of all respondents—believe that wealth will be granted to the faithful. It’s an upbeat theology, argues Barbara Ehrenreich in her new book, Bright-Sided, that has much in common with the kind of “positive thinking” that has come to dominate America’s boardrooms and, indeed, its entire culture.

And yet, the negative economic effects of this theology, according to Rosin, occurs among poorer African Americans and Latinos. Case in point, home foreclosures and risky loans:

Nationally, the prosperity gospel has spread exponentially among African American and Latino congregations. This is also the other distinct pattern of foreclosures. “Hyper-segregated” urban communities were the worst off, says Halperin. Reliable data on foreclosures by race are not publicly available, but mortgages are tracked by both race and loan type, and subprime loans have tended to correspond to foreclosures. During the boom, roughly 40 percent of all loans going to Latinos nationwide were subprime loans; Latinos and African Americans were 28 percent and 37 percent more likely, respectively, to receive a higher-rate subprime loan than whites.

In this sense, the effects of false theology on the church is a tale of two churches--one significantly more vulnerable than the other. Rosin's final lines captures where this vulnerability comes from:

Once, I asked Garay [the pastor featured in her story] how you would know for certain if God had told you to buy a house, and he answered like a roulette dealer. “Ten Christians will say that God told them to buy a house. In nine of the cases, it will go bad. The 10th one is the real Christian.” And the other nine? “For them, there’s always another house.”

Pastors who promise great riches as God's will for your life, only to fall back on Russian roulette explanations for failures, are a cancerous pox on the lives of so many people. They shrug, "there always another this or that," and drive out to the suburbs or exurbs in their long Benz. There will be another sheep to devour at the next big money revival meeting.

How can you tell the difference between a wolf in sheep's clothing and a sheep?

By what they eat.

"Solomon brought Pharaoh's daughter up from the city of David to the house that he had built for her, for he said, 'My wife shall not live in the house of David king of Israel, for the places to which the ark of the Lord has come are holy'." (2 Chron. 8:11)

Solomon has just completed building the temple of the Lord, dedicating it with joy and prayer (chp. 7). He begins a period of wider building once the temple and his house are build. He takes cities from rival people, builds walls and gates, establishes fortified supply cities throughout, and places the men of Israel in key leadership positions (8:1-10). He offers burnt offerings, observes the special feasts commanded in the Law, and organizes temple worship in keeping with David's commands, finishing all the work before him (8:12-18).

But in the middle of all this accomplishment, verse 11 sticks out like a giant aching thumb. The king has an Egyptian wife; he has married outside of Israel. Apparently, he recognizes something of the inconsistency. He decides that an unholy wife shouldn't live in the places made holy by the ark's presence.


But is this repentance? Is this turning from the act of disobedience? Of a sort, perhaps? But it's hardly warfare against sin. It would seem to be the mandatory motions of religious sensibility, which demand a certain decorum but neglects deeper realities.

We don't wish to beat up on Solomon as though inconsistency belongs to him alone. How often are we tempted to coddle our sins in more secret places, out of sight of the Most Holy, rather than repent of it altogether and casting it out of our lives completely? How tempting it is to keep our sins safely tucked away for future use rather than hating and killing our sin. We're not too unlike Solomon whenever we make political alliances with our sins instead of abandoning ourselves more completely to God.

Even if all around us is success, we may then be laying the grounds for our own defeat. Visible success is no measure of genuine godliness. Outward results may simply mask inward failure. And the seed of our failure is planted in the secret, safe grounds of far away houses that the godly among us cannot observe. We all have places in us where we may hide and store things, places no one has access to unless we open it to them. Those are the most dangerous places of all. Those are the places most needing light. the things we place there are the things most needing discovery and death because they're ultimately the most dangerous and damning.

Oh, Lord, keep me from delighting in secret sin. Keep me from building private residences for disobedience. Make me ruthless with all that opposes your holy word and your glorious Name. Do this with all you people, O Lord, our Sovereign King and Redeemer.

Deepak Reju at Church Matters offered this very helpful post:

One of the new practices on our elder board is that we take 30 minutes at the beginning of every meeting to cross-examine one of the brothers. You hear a lot of expected questions (How is your prayer life and quiet time? How is your parenting?), but you also a wide range of unexpected questions. One question that I heard recently that I thought would be good for other pastors to consider:

"If the devil were to ruin your ministry, what area of your life would he pursue?"

And a follow-up question: "Whatever area of life is vulnerable, what are you doing right now to protect against the devil's work?"

Brothers, don't let the devil get a foothold in your life. Pray and Fight. There is much work left to be done.

If you've been following the posts on "The Costs of Following Jesus" (here and here), you've read about a fictional man named "Brad," a new convert to the faith, father of three with a live-in girlfriend of 13 years. Obviously, Brad has some things to think through if he is going to faithfully follow the Lord. We've been discussing our views.

Today, Carson shared an email post written to a young church planter on this very issue. HT to one of the commenters here. This is very thoughtful, and I hope you'll read it.

A couple days back, we began a new series of posts on "The Cost of Following Jesus". Thanks to all those who shared wisdom and thoughts regarding our scenario from yesterday: Brad, a new convert with a long-time live-in girlfriend and three children depending on his income. The reason I'm thankful for the comments and the reason I'm enjoying this series is that such situations are real human dramas for so many people and so many churches. Learning to respond biblically and with an understanding of the "costs" that will be paid to follow Jesus is a big part of shepherding well in these cases.

I don't pretend to have the "air tight" answers. So, my responses aren't meant to "settle" all open questions and be some kind of "advice from on high." I'm a fellow elder looking to be faithful and to think out loud about some hypothetical situations before I have to work through some real ones. And I'm hoping this exercise is a means of grace to us all. So a few thoughts.

The Costs Brad Will Pay

Obviously, Brad will need to figure out how to live faithfully before the Lord. And that means at least two things: no more sexual immorality, but also continuing to faithfully care for his children who need both his presence and his financial support.

Does he leave the family? If so, does he take the children with him? Does he leave the children and continue providing financial support?

Does he break off the 13-year relationship with Jill? Or, does he marry her? Since she is not a Christian, can he marry her (1 Cor. 7:39)? If he doesn't marry her, are we helping him to defraud her (1 Thess. 4)?


A father is more than a paycheck, so we don't want to weaken or harm the family as we help this brand new Christian discover how to follow Jesus. And Jesus' glory and our love for Him trumps all other loves, so we don't want to leave Brad putting Jill and the children before the Lord. Nor is the love and commitment shared over decades between a man and a woman a small thing to trifle with. All these things are risks associated with helping Brad follow the Lord and bear the costs.

And there are risks to the church and to Jill and the children. How this is handled communicates a lot either accurately or inaccurately about the nature of God's grace and Christian love. Jill and the children are not believers. We desire the family to see the gospel worked out in a winsome way that commends holiness as beautiful. Responding poorly will hurt one or more people in this family.

So what to do?

An Approach

What would be the strengths or weaknesses of the following approach? What would have merit and would should be re-thought? With all of this, I'm talking a couple weeks, not a few months or years.

With Brad:

1. Encourage perseverance and sanctification. Avoid giving assurances based on unbiblical criteria. Instead, exhort the brother in those marks of the Christian life we see described in the Bible: love for the brethren, obedience as love to Jesus, sanctification, and so on. Help Brad to see the work of Christ in the Christian's life as extraordinary and extensive rather than small and trivial. That includes understanding that Jesus is Lord of his sex life as well. There are no intimacies over which the Lord does not say, "Mine." In short, work to give Brad a solid biblical view of what a Christian is.

2. Study with him a book like Ephesians or 1 Thessalonians. This is a practical way to approach #1 above. The books are short enough to cover in a couple weeks, and rich enough theologically and practically that a good picture of the Christian life emerges. Ephesians has the advantage of giving an exalted, Christ-centered view of marriage, something Brad and his girlfriend need. I Thessalonians has the advantage of addressing sanctification and sexual purity directly (chap. 4) and of pointing to the coming of Christ. Both give helpful instruction on the church and its role. As you study, let the Bible ask questions of Brad. Rather than launch a lot of imperatives at Brad, let the Lord's Spirit in His gentle and effective way use the word to address Brad. Ask good questions about the text, and prompt Brad to bring the text to his life.

3. Develop a plan with Brad to pursue marriage quickly. There may be a lot of work that needs to be put into this one. Brad and Jill don't esteem marriage. They have fears about it working. They're comfortable with their current commitments and arrangements. And Jill, at least, doesn't think their relationship is sinful. So, there's a lot of patient teaching that must be done here. There's a lot of exploration and shepherding that needs to be offered in order to help them make wise decisions. But, the aim would be to have a plan for getting Brad and Jill through their issues and to the marriage altar in good shape. Repentance for Brad looks like marrying Jill, which would be strengthening his commitment to her and the children. But the plan should also include some definite thoughts about leaving the relationship if Jill is unwilling to live with Brad as a believer or if she remains opposed to marriage.

4. Baptize Brad after steps 1-3. Teach the brother with all patience. Affirm his decision to follow the Lord and deepen that decision with instruction, rather than questioning the commitment and undermining his faith. Brad's mind needs to be renewed (Rom. 12:1-2) about a lot of things, but that doesn't happen over night. We all entered the baptismal waters in need of some continuing sanctification. Baptism pictures our union with Christ in His death and resurrection, not our glorification and perfection. Build up to the baptism in such a way that the baptism marks a decisive break with the world, but also a decisive beginning with Christ and the church. Avoid making "complete sanctification" the entry fee for the baptismal waters, but protect baptism by counseling the brother thoroughly.


With the Church

All of this, of course, depends on helping the congregation see this as precisely the kinds of opportunities we want to be helpful in, rather than the kinds of things we want to fix quickly, squash, or pretend doesn't happen. A couple of thoughts:

1. With Brad's support and testimony, before baptism and membership, explain Brad's situation at members' meeting, and share the highlights of the plan to help him live faithfully before the Lord. Call on the congregation to bear the brother's burden (Gal. 6:1-2) and to practically help wherever possible. Ask the congregation to faithfully pray for Brad, Jill and the children. Encourage the congregation to bring Brad into the family under the special care of the church. Have Brad make definite statements about the sin of cohabiting and fornication. Be clear, too, about the expectations for Brad should the counseling and efforts toward marriage not work. And be clear about the congregation's responsibility in loving correction should Brad refuse to listen to the church in the counseling and efforts at growing in grace.

2. Be an ally in helping to share the faith with his family. Encourage the church to involve Brad, Jill and the children in hospitality, church activities, and so on. Make the relationship with Brad about partnering in the gospel to win his family, rather than about separating Brad from the family as enemies. Love Jill and the kids in any practical way possible. Help her find better work, if that's a need. Babysit so they can have time to talk through things or attend relationship counseling. Work to make them think that Brad really has entered into this wide and caring family that cares for them all and wants the best for them all. A couple sisters from the church should be asked to develop a relationship with Jill with sharing the gospel and being a general source of support a main priority.

Conclusion

Well, those are my thoughts right now. Let me eat lunch and I may want to change some or all of this. I'm thinking through some of these things wanting to be clear but patient and sensitive as well. I don't know that these comments get the balance correct. So, what do you think? Help me out here.

One of the things I appreciate about Mark Dever's view of evangelism is his insistence that we tell people who are not yet Christians that it will be costly to follow Jesus, but it's worth it. As preachers and evangelists, we can be guilty of stressing the "worth it" aspects of following Jesus, while feel the pressure to share honestly the costs of following the Lord.

When Mark talks about the costs of following Jesus, he is, of course, only paraphrasing the Lord's own teaching. When one teach of the Law cried out, "Teacher, I will follow you anywhere you go." The Lord didn't grow giddy with the thought of "one more" in his corner. He told the man to count the cost in these words: "Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of man has no place to lay his head" (Matt. 8:18-19). Which basically means "welcome to a life of homelessness and costly sacrifice."

Even more explicitly, the Lord discusses the cost of following him in Luke 14, where he says:

"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple. ²⁷And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

²⁸"Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? ²⁹For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, ³⁰saying, 'This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.'

³¹"Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? ³²If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. ³³In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.

Giving up everything is a consequent part of following the Lord Jesus. Bonhoeffer's famous words ring true: "The only man who has the right to say that he is justified by grace alone is the man who has left all to follow Christ" (Cost of Discipleship, p. 51). And, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die." Death and cost-paying are constituent parts of discipleship.

Now, I don't suppose many readers of this post will have difficulty with the truth of these words, even if we all experience the difficulty of living these words. Dying is a hard process. And for many Christians, the subjective experience of that death which leads to life may properly be called "excruciating"--both for its pain and for its cross-related reality.

One thing I've noticed in my own young pastoral ministry is I've not given enough thought to cost-paying. What I mean more specifically is I've glimpsed something of the reality of these words in the lives of men and women who have by God's grace been converted to faith in Christ, who are following Him as best they know how, and who are paying a cost to do so. It's not as though they want to avoid the cost and solely experience the "worth it" of discipleship. Most are not looking for a cheap grace experience. But the cost is heavy.

And I'm convinced that I need to spend more time thinking through how I provide pastoral care and instruction to various people coming fresh out of the world into the life of Christ and paying the cost of following.

It seems to me that most evangelicals think of conversion as so magically wonderful and radical that once the sinner "prays the prayer" most all--if not all--of their problems are solved. The "hard part" in the minds of many evangelicals is just getting the person to commit. But Jesus' words remind us that committing to follow is when the hard part begins. And if that's true, the people of Christ need thoughtful ways of entering into the inevitable suffering and difficulty that is part of the tax and cost of joining Jesus in repentance and faith.

Put simply: How do we more effectively help people pay the cost of leaving the old life of sin and taking up their cross to follow the Lord? How do we help the very sexually active person bear the cost? How do we help the person with an unbiblical divorce pay the cost now that they're following Jesus? How do we labor with the person needing to end destructive relationships pay the cost?

In a series of posts over the next little while, I want to take up this question by looking at a few cases where we call people to follow Jesus and perhaps we need to think more about the costs they'll pay and how we can help.

I don't know who first penned this, but a brother at church shared it with me in something he has written. Thought it might be helpful and challenging for some in this over-connected, over-imaged world we live in:



The TV is my shepherd,
I shall want more.
It makes me lie down on the sofa.
It leads me away from the faith;
It destroys my soul.
It leads me in the path of sex and violence
for the sponsor's sake.
Yeah, though I walk in the shadow of Christian responsibility,
there will be no interruption, for the TV is with me.
It's cables and remote control, they comfort me.
It prepares a commercial for me in the presence of my worldliness;
It anoints my head with humanism and consumerism;
My coveting runneth over.
Surely, laziness and ignorance shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house watching TV for ever.

Quoted at Christ Is Deeper Still:

"There is no sin so much like the devil as this for secrecy and subtlety and appearing in a great many shapes undiscerned and unsuspected, even appearing as an angel of light. It takes occasion to arise from everything, it perverts and abuses everything, even the exercises of real grace and real humility. It is a sin that has, as it were, many lives. If you kill it, it will live still. If you suppress it in one shape, it rises in another. If you think it is all gone, it is there still. Like the coats of an onion, if you pull one form of it off, there is another underneath. We need therefore to have the greatest watch imaginable over our hearts and to cry most earnestly to the great Searcher of hearts for his help. He that trusts his own heart is a fool."

Jonathan Edwards, Thoughts on the New England Revival, page 155, edited slightly

Related Posts:
Pride and Preaching
Good Words on Faithfulness, Fruitfulness, and Pride

There were a number of things that freshly impacted my heart and mind through the preaching at the God Exposed conference last week. One thing I've continued to roll over in my head is C.J.'s wise exhortation to be patient with our people's growth in knowledge and sanctification. He put it something like this: "Sanctification is not an event but a process. If it takes you (pastor) months or years of study to arrive at some growth, why do you think your people will "get it" with one sermon from you?"

"It is quite common for people to say they are looking for a church they are comfortable with. I think that is a scandalous statement. When were churches supposed to be comfortable places? There is too much need in the world for Christians to be comfortable."

--Ajith Fernando, The Call to Joy and Pain: Embracing Suffering in Your Ministry (Crossway, 2007), 1994

Among the gems I've found helpful over at Reformation Theology of late:

"Be advised to consider what others say of you and improve it to this end, to know whether you do not live in some way of sin...And though the imputation may seem to us to be very groundless and we think that they, in charging us so, are influenced by no good spirit; yet if we act prudently, we shall take so much notice of it as to make an occassion of examining ourselves ... it is most imprudent as well as most unchristian, to take it amiss, and resent it, when we are thus told of our faults: we should rather rejoice in it, that we are shown our spots ... we should improve what our enemies say of us. If they from an ill spirit reproach and revile us to our faces, we should consider it, so far as to reflect inward upon ourselves and inquire whether it not be so, as they charge us ... they are likely to fix on real faults, they are likely to fall upon us where we are weakest and most defective."

- Jonathan Edwards, The Necessity of Self Examination.

One joy and privilege the Lord has given me as a Christian and pastor is the opportunity to lead small groups. Right now, my wife and I have the honor of hosting a young marrieds small group of about seven couples from the church. It's been a rich blessing to gather with them twice a month, read good Christian books together, and encourage one another in our marriages.

Currently we're reading Paul Tripp's excellent book War of Words. I can't commend this searching and helpful book enough. Every meeting is a time of confession, repentance and gospel hope as we think about what it means to be ambassadors of Christ and to have our Lord determine our speech agenda.

Last night we consider a chapter on confrontation. It was good chapter from start to finish, as Tripp unpacked the challenge of our indwelling sin, an unbelieving heart, and the challenge of lovingly confronting others with the goal of helping people see and accept God's view of themselves. In the chapter, Tripp provided an a model of biblical confrontation using the word "Encourage" as an acrostic. It's long, but it's a helpful way to think through the sometimes unpleasant task of talking with others about difficult issues.

Examine your heart. Confrontation always begins with you. Because we all struggle with indwelling sin, we must begin with ourselves. We must be sure that we have dealt with our anger, impatience, self-righteousness, and bitterness. When we start with our own confession, we are in a much better place to lead another to confess.

Note your calling. Remember that confrontation is not based on your opinion of the person. You are there as an ambassador and your job is to faithfully represent the message of the King. In other words, your goal is to help people see and accept God's view of them.

Check your attitude. When you speak, are your words spoken in kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, forgiveness, forbearance, compassion, and love? Failure to do this will hinder God-honoring, change-producing confrontation. We need to examine both our message and our attitude as we speak.

Own your own faults. It is vital to enter moments of confrontation with a humble recognition of who we really are. As we admit our own need for the Lord's forgiveness, we are able to be patient and forgiving with the one to whom God has called us to minister.

Use words wisely. Effective communication demands preparation, particularly of our words. We need to ask God to help us use words that carry his message, not get in the way of it.

Reflect on Scripture. The content of confrontation is always the Bible. It guides what we say and how we say it. We should enter moments of confrontation with a specific understanding of what Scripture says about the issues at hand. This means more than citing proof texts; it means understanding how the themes, principles, perspectives, and commands of Scripture shape the way we think about the issues before us.

Always be prepared to listen. The best, most effective confrontation is interactive. We need to give the person an opportunity to talk, since we cannot look into his heart or read his mind. We need to welcome his questions and look for signs that he is seeing the things he needs to see. We need to listen for true confession and the commitment to specific acts of repentance. As we listen, we will learn where we are in the confrontation process.

Grant time for a response. We must give the Holy Spirit time to work. There is nothing in Scripture that promises that if we do our confrontation work well, the person will confess and repent in one sitting. Rather, the Bible teaches us that change is usually a process. We need to model the same patience God has granted us. This patience does not compromise God's work of change, but flows out of a commitment to it.

Encourage the person with the gospel. It is the awesome grace of God, his boundless love, and his ever-present help that give us a reason to turn from our sin. Scripture says that it is the kindness of God that leads people to repentance (Rom. 2:4). The truths of the gospel--both its challenge and its comfort--must color our confrontation.

From the folks at DG and Josh Harris. Here.

Scotland boasts some of the most picturesque sights on the planet. The landscape of the highlands makes an ordinary man a poet.

Here's the final quote from Lloyd-Jones from one of his sermons on Romans 7:4. After meditating on four "tests" for true Christian life, the good doctor provides a little balm for the weak and wounded.

Here's the remainder of Lloyd-Jones' comments on Romans 7:4 and the tests for a true Christian. These are tests 2-4. Lord willing tomorrow, an encouragement for those who feel weak and doubtful about their position before the Lord.