Paul Tripp has written a short piece about how the gospel affects life right now. The original appears at Desiring God.
Jason sat in front of me with the head-down, humped-shouldered posture of a confused and disappointed man. It wasn’t that Jason’s life had been a sad narrative of personal suffering. Sure, he had faced some hard things, but they were the typical things that you face when you’re living in a world that has been broken by sin. It wasn’t that Jason was alienated and friendless. He was surrounded by a group of less than perfect, but pretty faithful companions. It wasn’t that Jason was impoverished or homeless. No, he had a decent job and an adequate condo.
Jason’s problem was that he was lost in the middle of his own faith. It had become harder and harder for him to connect the beauty of what he believed to the gritty and often difficulty realities of his daily life. Jason’s problem was that he carried a gospel around with him that had a great big hole in the middle of it.
Jason could explain to you what it meant to say that he had been “saved by grace,” and he knew that he was going to spend eternity with his Savior. His problem was in the here and now. Day after day, in situation after situation and relationship after relationship, Jason didn’t carry with him a vibrant and practical sense of the nowism of the grace of Jesus Christ. Yes, Jason believed in life after death, but he desperately needed to understand life before death; the kind of radical life you will live when you understand what Christ has given you for the life he has called you to right here, right now.
Let me suggest four critical aspects of the nowism of the gospel (there are more) that Jason seemed functionally blind to.
1. Grace will decimate what you think of you, while it gives you a security of identity you’ve never had.
Grace will expose your sin, but it will not leave you without identity. Grace had liberated Jason, but he didn’t know it or live like it. He had not only been forgiven and empowered, but he had been given a brand new identity. Jason had been freed from looking inward for his identity. No longer did he have to measure his potential by his track record or the size of the problems he was facing.
His potential was as great as the grace of Christ. He had been freed from looking outward for his identity. No longer did he have to search for identity in his Read the rest of this entry »
There is a fountain
February 25, 2010
A serious topic: NPR news is broadcasting a series entitled “Campus Rape Victims: A Struggle for Justice.” The stats are alarming: one out of five college women report being the victim of a sexual assault! My experience in campus ministry and as a local church pastor (including 4+ years in a large state university town) has given me more opportunities than I would like to face this ugly reality.
Despite efforts to curb these assaults over the last decade, there’s not much evidence of progress. Why? Simple answers include: victim shame, the haze of alcohol (it tends to reduce clarity about whether sex was consensual or not), the desire of the male to deny and cover up, and (very sadly) the fear in some leaders who worry too much about false accusations. Yes, people do lie. However, the ones who bear that cost are usually victims.
The shame felt by victims stays with them a long time. It hinders marital intimacy and oneness, as a victim often does not tell her husband about “what happened in college,” afraid that he would not marry her if he knew the truth. The victim feels like damaged goods and ends up feeling ruled by the shame.
As Christians, it’s not a question of if we will deal with such issues; it’s more a question of when. Most of us can present the gospel in a way that deals with sins for which we bear responsibility and guilt. While this is true and essential, we also need to speak clearly about the ways the gospel addresses sins that have been committed against us. You cannot repent of being abused, tortured, or raped; however, the blood and righteousness of Christ speak of cleansing and hope for shame and defilement. Your identity must be marked only by what Jesus Christ has done for you and no longer by what has been done by you or to you. The scriptural language of atonement, cleansing, washing and purifying speaks a powerful truth to such souls. Jesus’ sacrifice takes away sin and shame forever for those who trust him. It’s a simple truth, but, as John Owen would say, “exceedingly difficult to exercise faith upon.”
Mark Driscoll and Garry Breshears’ Death by Love: Letters from the Cross has a chapter which addresses this issue wonderfully.
Lamentations and Haiti
January 21, 2010
Friday, January 29, First Presbyterian Church in Jackson, Mississippi, will host the annual Mid-South Men’s Rally. This year’s speaker will be Dr. Michael A. Milton, president of Reformed Theological Seminary in Charlotte, North Carolina. Dr. Milton has posted an essay in which he applies the form and theology of the Old Testament book of Lamentations to the devastation of Haiti. Take the the time to read it.
Here’s an excerpt:
The earthquake that hit Haiti last about 30 seconds. And in that time hundreds of thousands of souls left this planet. But even as I write, even more, all over the world, will suddenly pass from this world into the presence of the Creator. Are we ready to go? For the brevity of life is ever before us, beckoning, calling, crying that we turn to the Lord while there is time. Jesus also calls for us to repent, to examine ourselves and to turn to Him. For God will punish unrepentant sin.
Again, it is not a time to point fingers in judgment at people Haiti. It is not time to think we can explain it all. That is not only unbiblical but inhumane and just plain dumb. But it is a time to pray for them, and to weep for them, but also to realize again the brevity of life and that I will soon stand before God myself. It is a time to recall that every horror here reminds us of the horror of being separated forever from God. It is a time for me to turn again to God and repent.
Grace like manna
January 5, 2010
Eight or so years ago I went with an elder to visit an elderly widow on a blistering cold day (much like today). She had recently moved closer to one of her grown children and had been coming to our church with her family. On this get-to-know-you-better kind of visit, I knew what to expect. This elder and I had good teamwork in these situations. He is affable, warm, quick-witted. He sets a good, engaging kind of tone to these visits, and I bring the heavy artillery. I usually asked the question or made the comment that moved things from friendly chit-chat to more serious and spiritual directions. But on this day, I was surprised. The widow gave a clear and credible testimony of her faith in Christ. She said that frequently she thought about death. While she was not afraid to die, she said she was often afraid of dying. “I wonder sometimes if I have the strength and courage to face the process,” she said. 
Before I could formulate a response, the elder (usually the silent partner at this point in the conversation) spoke up and answered better than I could. “O you don’t have to worry about that. When you need that grace, the Lord will give it to you. You feel like you don’t have it right now, but you don’t need it right now. It’s like manna. It’ll be there.”
Reading Edward T. Welch’s Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest reminded me of that cold afternoon. In one chapter Welch teases out our specific fears of death: fears of eternity, fears of the way you might die, fears of hardship for loved ones, fear of the unknown, and fear of judgment. He addresses the second fear, fear of the way you might die, like my friend and fellow elder did that day. Let me share Welch’s version with you. Read the rest of this entry »
