Come As You Are, But Leave as God Wills

The mantra of many a congregation is that everyone is welcome to attend their church just as they are. This usually — and rightfully — means that those outside the church should feel comfortable to attend without changing themselves to look like those inside. (One would hope that no one means, by come as you are, to invite people to arrive in the same condition as when they had just gotten out of the shower.)

We also say that God welcomes sinners just as they are. When this means that one need not become holy before coming to God, it is an accurate representation of biblical teaching, for no one can be holy without God, and everyone comes to God with only his sinful condition in hand. It is after one has come to God that God makes those changes, where necessary.

Frequently, however, what we truly mean when we recite these phrases, and what we are teaching those we attempt to invite by uttering them, is Come as you are, and leave as you came.

But the Bible tells us that if a man has actually come to God, he will leave a different man. Not necessarily different in his outward, physical appearance, but different either in that his standing has been confirmed in his rejection or acceptance of God, or different in the attitudes of his heart having met the living God.

Sure, “Come as you are,” but leave as God wills.

Jesus Sustains All (at the Same Time)

The Bible tells us that Jesus Christ upholds the universe by the word of his power (Hebrews 1:3), and that in him all things hold together (Colossians 1:17).

This means that while Jesus was speaking to first-century denizens of the Middle East about camels and needle eyes, he could have caused Neptune to explode, or a different galaxy to change locations in the universe, or cause a certain bird to eat a certain insect on the plains of the Serengeti (though it probably wasn’t called Serengeti then). Could have…and probably did (well, we don’t think he caused Neptune to explode).

We consider this phenomenal, even impossible. But is it so different from what we do each day in our own bodies? Which of us thinks about making his heart beat, or his lungs expand and contract to draw air and then expel it? Which of us directs cells to collect nutrients from blood, from food, from oxygen? Who thinks about instructing other cells to divide, fight bacteria, or collect and dispose of waste on a microscopic level?

Knowing that, it is not so far out of the realm of imagination that God, while carrying on with man, is carrying on (in a different way) with millions of planets that are circling myriads of stars, which are growing, plateauing and declining.

So, since we don’t consciously control our hearts, our breathing, our circulation, is it too radical, to overwhelming, too humbling to suppose that at this very moment Jesus Christ is making my own heart beat? And yours, too?

Christians AWOL from Spiritual Battle

Like the Spartans, every Christian is born a warrior. It is his destiny to be assaulted, his duty to attack.

Charles Spurgeon

Finally be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.

Ephesians 6:10-11

How many of us view the Christian life as something dramatically less thrilling that the life of warfare described by Spurgeon, and advocated by Paul? Perhaps we view it as boring, irrelevant, or uninteresting because we are unaware of the implications of our joining Christ’s “battalion.” Do we truly believe that the devil is scheming against us, our families, our churches, or do we treat that aspect of the Christian life as we would Aesop’s Fables or fairy tales? Do we view other believers as our “band of brothers” fighting together to accomplish the goal, or merely as more dues-paying members of the club?

There are many ways in which the Christian may to a great degree forget his military character.

Charles Spurgeon

Most of our conversation on Sunday morning centers around sports or politics. We speak of those matters with a gusto that is strangely absent from our discussions (when we have them) of spiritual matters.

Could it be that all week we have been spoiling for the fight, but released those passions in the only venue we could find? Could it be that we, as Christians, are so unfamiliar with spiritual warfare that we fight our battles vicariously through our favorite teams or preferred candidates? Could it be that we are ignorant of the spiritual battles that occur every week, every day, every moment?

Men of God (and women, to be sure) are warriors, destined for assault and under duty to attack. If we do not perceive those assaults, we attribute them to something else, something less sensational than the “world forces of this darkness.” If we do not attack worldliness, sin and the devil – or at least recognize that we are stumbling around the battlefield – we will have put ourselves in the infirmary with no injury other than sitting on our proverbial helmet.

We will have gone AWOL from the spiritual battle.

Biblical Obituaries

One of the most popular sections in the newspaper is the obituaries. More compelling than the economic news, crime report, comics or even advice columns, most readers want to know who died. Perhaps this is due to an obsession with our own mortality: as long as the deceased were older that we are, we feel a bit better about our own prospects.

Perhaps we secretly wish to one day turn to the obituaries expecting to see the usual fare of certain death, only to see a blank page because people have stopped dying.

For some us, perhaps, if we are honest, there is no small amount of pleasure (be honest!) that even the rich, the powerful, the mean, the wicked sometimes die.

Thousands of years ago people also got news about death. In fact, the first Obituary appears in the Bible. Genesis Chapter 5 lists no less than eight obituaries, including the dead man’s surviving relatives and age of death, which make the reports much like their modern counterparts (except that the average age was 907.5 years! Even the most severe hypochondriac among us would have been at least a little bit relieved).

Earlier, Adam & Eve had been banished from the Garden of Eden and God had pronounced judgment on them, a judgment that had previously included the warning “you shall surely die.” But we don’t see death recorded, at least not yet. Instead, we see Adam & Eve procreating, Cain killing Abel (but himself surviving), and Cain’s progeny advancing various aspects of society. One might be inclined to decide that whatever “surely die” meant, it did not involve physical death.

But then we are told, in Chapter 5, in a rhythmic, monotonous recitation that man, after man, after man, no matter the extraordinary length of life he enjoyed, or the power he wielded, or the wealth he had, did, in fact, die, die, die. Assuredly, irrevocably, relentlessly, God’s proclamation of death as punishment for sin was carried out.

With one exception.

‘Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him’ (Gen. 5:21). In the middle of this methodical funeral procession is the report we sometimes wish to see in our own newspaper obits: someone did not die.

Why is this here? What was special about Enoch? Not much, except that God took him. Later, we learn that Enoch prophesied, had faith, and pleased God (Hebrews 11:5, Jude 1:14). Yet here, in the midst of all this description about the effects of judgment, which was itself the result of God’s initiative in punishing sin and preserving his holiness, is a description of the only thing that could possibly save him from that judgment: God’s initiative in redemption.

While we can be sure that God’s word is true — he will punish sin — we can also be sure that God is able to save men out of sin and death. That this truth appears early in redemptive history, early in God’s revelation to man in Scripture, makes his redemption of individuals no longer an uncertain response of men to God, but a certain, definite, and completely successful rescue operation initiated by God toward men.

This article originally appeared in June, 2008

Discipline and The Disciplines

Q: Does the Bible teach that God disciplines believers, or, do believers discipline themselves?

 

A: Yes.

To properly understand the spiritual disciplines, what they are, and what they accomplish, believers must understand what the Bible teaches about God’s goal for us as a disciples of Christ. Perhaps it is too simplistic to speak of one goal that God has in mind, but we can say that a significant aspect of the picture God presents for every Christ-follower is that believer become conformed to the image of Jesus Christ (Romans 8:28-30). In fact, we are told that we were predestined to be so conformed.

This conforming is what we call sanctification — becoming like Jesus, which means becoming holy. Most believers realize early in their spiritual journey that the promise of God to make us like Jesus does not occur immediately at conversion. Instead, it is a lifelong process that involves our participation.

Errors at either end of the discipline spectrum include both passivism (the “Let go and let God” idea that since God is going to do it, anyway, we need not exert any effort) and activism (the idea that the only thing important is our own effort).

Whose responsibility is it to discipline?

Hebrews 12:7-11 tells us that God disciplines us. But 1 Timothy 4:7 tells us that believers should discipline themselves. The words translated “discipline” in those passages are different, which might lead us to conclude that God’s discipline is different from man’s.

But the results of the discipline, in each case, and by each actor, is the same. In Hebrews, the result of God’s discipline of us is that we might share in his holiness and yield the peaceful fruit of righteousness. In Timothy, the result of the believer’s disciplining himself is for the purpose of godliness.

So we see that God is disciplining (training) us and we are disciplining (training) ourselves. What is apparent from the biblical teaching is that those who are truly God’s people in Jesus Christ will be conformed to Jesus’ image — made holy, righteous, and godly — and the only question is how this discipline will occur.

When a believer disciplines himself, he includes those things we call “the spiritual disciplines;” such things as Bible study, prayer, worship and so forth, which we will explore later. Obviously, though, when God disciplines us, he isn’t using those same means that we do. That is, God’s discipline of a believer isn’t accomplished by God’s forcing that believer to study scripture or pray.

How does God discipline?

God’s discipline of the believer for the purpose of conforming him to Christ’s image appears to involve something unpleasant  to us. In just a few of the relevant biblical references, we are told that the Lord’s discipline might make us weary (Proverbs 3:11-12), might seem painful rather than pleasant (Hebrews 12:7-11), might threaten our joy (James 1:2-4).

In James’ terms, the tool that God uses to make us perfect and complete, lacking in nothing is testing. And testing, unfortunately, involves trials. In other words, God’s preferred means of disciplining or training his people, a means wielded quite effectively by the Holy Spirit, is suffering, or adversity.

This adversity could be such things as disaster, disease and death, but may also include the faithful rebuke of a friend, a burdened conscience, or church discipline in its various forms.

The believer should be confident, therefore, that the Lord will conform him to the image of Jesus. But even though we know that God is going to discipline us, we should faithfully and zealously engage in the spiritual disciplines, and not be content to wait on adversity (who wants that?).

The believer will either be disciplining himself, or God will be disciplining him. And, in many cases, both.

So, does God discipline us, or do we discipline ourselves? Yes.

Getting a Grip on Spiritual Discipline

For years my spiritual walk was marked by confusion. Not that I have entirely escaped any confusion characterizing my walk with Jesus, but a particular confusion is now — somewhat — alleviated, a confusion prompted when I allowed myself to ask What is the deal with spiritual disciplines?

Growing up Southern Baptist in as traditional and conservative a congregation as you might imagine, my early knowledge of spiritual disciplines was clouded by my cohorts’ nervous avoidance of fasting, which I managed to divine was a peculiar practice of the Catholics, and following the Council of Trent good Protestants were obliged to decline any behavior that resembled what the Catholics did.

Over the years I realized that the spiritual disciplines were not, in fact, frightening, and that they were actually beneficial for a Christian’s discipleship. This did not immediately lessen my confusion, for I soon discovered that no one quite agreed what the spiritual disciplines were.

Recently I have settled, however tentatively, on a pattern of practices that seems to correspond to biblical teaching and practice on the subject, and over the next few articles, will explain the pattern (outline) and what the practices are (I think). The outline looks something like this:

  • Personal Disciplines
    • Putting Off: Simplicity, Frugality, Chastity, Solitude & Silence, Fasting, Repentance & Confession.
    • Mind Renewal: Bible Intake, Prayer, Self-Examination & Reflection, Learning.
    • Putting On: Gospel Gazing, Obedience, Service, Submission, Disciplemaking, Stewardship.
  • Corporate Disciplines
    • Worship & Ordinances
    • Hearing the Word
    • Bible Study
    • Prayer
    • Fellowship

I have shamelessly culled from lists discussed by the familiar names in spiritual disciplines (Whitney, Foster), other not-quite-so-familiar players (Hughes, Mahaney, MacDonald), and some obscure ones (Harry Reeder, for instance, in From Embers to Flame). You’ll notice familiar terms, but in perhaps different arrangements.

Following this article, I’ll discuss how God’s discipline relates to our spiritual disciplines, then, in succession, the Putting Off, Mind Renewal, and Putting Off aspects of personal discipline (you’ll recognize the pattern from Ephesians 4:22-24), and last, the corporate disciplines.

This manner of looking at spiritual disciplines has proven the most helpful for me, and I trust will be helpful to you. Watch for upcoming posts, and join the discussion…

What is the Gospel good for?

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. Romans 1:16

Presumably we Christians believe that the gospel is powerful for salvation, for bringing men from darkness to light, from condemnation to justification, from enmity with God to reconciliation with him. In essence, for assuring that those who believe in Christ will go to heaven when they die.

Yet in some areas we act as if this is the only thing that the gospel is good for – holy fire insurance – and that it has no other effect before we die.

Certainly it is true that for the gospel to be powerful to change my behavior or my condition, it must first be powerful in bringing me from spiritual death to spiritual life – ‘salvation’ in its narrowest sense. But then, after powerfully changing my eternal condition, it is powerful for my transformation into the likeness of Christ – ‘salvation’ in its fullest sense.

When we say, however, that we can’t discipline other members of our congregations, or exhort those contemplating divorce to consider other solutions, or challenge men to holiness, or expect better things from those calling themselves ‘Christian,’ we are saying that the gospel is not powerful. We are saying that though the gospel is powerful to keep me from being a resident of hell, it is impotent to make me a resident of heaven.

In fact, the church has forsaken the transformation power of the gospel in favor of worldly methods. We are saying, in effect, that the truth cannot, in fact, set us free.