Remembered

 Psalm 45 ends with a promise to the Son "I will make thy name to be remembered throughout all generations" (Psalm 45:17). I take this promise very seriously, because it ties in very closely with our role as Asenath.

Here we are, where the Man of God has been rejected, and we're waiting for Him to come for us (Philippians 3:20–21, 1 Thessalonians 1:9–10).  The Lord has told us we are to remember Him "until He come" (1 Corinthians 11:23–26). So here we are, waiting for Him to come back for us. And while we wait, we're to be remembering Him.

And we might not think that's very important: we might find any number of things that seem to be more important. But the Lord has asked us to remember Him until He comes.

When I think about the woman at Sychar, I remember the Lord told her that the Father is seeking worshipers (John 4:23). I find that striking: how many times do we read that the Father is seeking for something? As far as I can tell, this is the only time. And I notice the Father isn't seeking for servants, or champions, or talented people to advance the kingdom. He's seeking worshipers. And apparently He's content if they're just like the woman at the well, who've thrown away their lives already, and are wondering what they've gotten for it.

The Father is seeking worshipers, and the Son has told us to remember Him until He comes for us: those two things should align our hearts and – more importantly – our eyes while we're here. But if we go back to Psalm 45, we'll see there's one more thing. The Father has promised the Son that He'd be remembered throughout all generations. The Father has made a promise to the Son, and He's invited us to be part of its fulfillment.

Think about that for a while!

How many times do we get to be involved in the relationship between the Father and the Son? But that's exactly what remembering Him is.

So as hard as it is for me to do – much harder than it is for me to say – I need to get it into my head, and into my heart, that I am in this wicked world for a purpose. It's not to make a fortune here, it's not to enjoy what this world has to offer, it's not even to make this world a better place. The point of my being here is so that His name will be remembered until He comes back. And while I believe we are to make every part of our lives an act of worship – doing all things in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to the Father by Him (Colossians 3:17) – at the same time I realize that the most important thing is to be waiting for the Son of God from Heaven, remembering Him until we actually see His face.

Except the Lord build the house

 Psalm 127:1–5

 

A friend asked me the difference between Dispensationalism and and Covenant Theology. My answer is that the one stresses discontinuities between the Old and New Testament, while the other stresses continuity. That's a pretty vague statement, but I think it's a good place to start. Obviously both are -isms, and so both are definitely wrong in at least some points. 

One of the effects of reading Darby extensively was that I began to back off a lot from the Dispensationalism I grew up with, as I began to see more and more continuities between the Old and New Testaments. That's not to say I dove into Covenant Theology, or anything like it. But reading Darby forced me to see and appreciate many continuities between the Old and New Testaments, which aren't really acknowledged among more mainstream Dispensationalists.

I really do believe all -isms are wrong. Dispensationalism, Calvinism, Arminianism – they're all wrong by virtue of the fact they're -isms. Yes, even Darbyism (and that really is a thing). They're all wrong because none quite addresses the whole counsel of God. Further, it seems like we humans just can't resist moving from "working model" to "interpretive framework" to "replacement for Scripture." We just can't seem to avoid getting to the place where we disregard at least some part of Scripture because of our personal theology (Matthew 15:1–6).

Don't get me wrong! If the choice is between Calvinism and Arminianism, and I have to choose, I'll take Calvinism every time. As far as I can tell, it represents Scripture much more completely and honestly than the other... but it would be far better for me to stick to Scripture. Similarly, I think Dispensationalism is a much better -ism than Covenant Theology, but it's still an -ism, it's still lacking, and it still easily becomes a replacement for Scripture if we allow our vigilance to fail.

I've said it many times: the unique feature of Darby's writings is that he resists the temptation to develop a theology. I wish I could do the same.

One of the marks of the "dispensationalism" of Darby, Kelly, et al. was the teaching that a godly walk isn't the result of careful adherence to the Law, or careful self-discipline, but the result of our union with Christ in His death, the indwelling Holy Spirit, and the work of God in us. Of course that's a mark of that era's Dispensationalism that was quick to disappear. Many who teach Dispensationalism today still mention our union with Christ, but they seem to think it's relegated to a "positional" truth, not something that really affects our lives. 

Of course there is the opposite error: an error that I easily fall into. We won't passively fall into godliness. It's easy for me (and some other people I know) to allow ourselves to fall into the error opposite legalism, which is an almost fatalistic "passivism." That's not what Scripture teaches.

So what does Scripture teach?

 Psalm 127:1–2 shows us what's happening behind the scenes. There are builders working on a house, but unless the Lord is the one actually building it, their labor is vain. There are watchmen watching over a city, but unless the Lord is keeping it, their waking is in vain. 

Vain labor is a thing. It's probably more common than we realize: time, effort, resources spent pursuing some end on our own, without the Lord being in it. Robert has commented that "without me you can do nothing" (John 15:5) is a promise we don't like to remember. We like to think we are capable of accomplishing things on our own, we don't like to remember that without the Lord, we might well do things, but we can't accomplish anything.

Well, we don't interpret Psalm 127:1–2 to mean that the city shouldn't post watchers, nor that the builder of a house shouldn't work hard. That's going beyond what the Scripture actually says. It's not an injunction against human effort, but it is an observation that we cannot control the outcome of our labors. The Lord accomplishes what He sets out to accomplish, and we work against Him in vain.

We like to speak out against laziness – and rightly so –, but Psalm 127:2 tells us that the Lord gives rest to His beloved. Now, I read "His beloved" to mean primarily Christ, but it seems to me there is an extension to us here as well. When we recognize that our work is really His work, then we realize the outcome isn't really our concern. We don't pour our lives into vain labor, we allow Him the end that He wants.

At the same time, I have come to believe that our work (work "of the Lord" 1 Corinthians 15:58) is real and significant. I confess that any number of times over the last twenty-five years, I've held to a view pretty close to fatalism. I have many times believed – in fact, if not in words – that we are more or less just to sit and wait for God to do the work. I was wrong. That's not what Scripture describes. Rodger mentioned to me that sonship implies a significant relationship, almost an uneven partnership. We have been called into a relationship with the Father and the Son where we have been freed and empowered to take part in the work the Lord is doing. 

But make no mistake, the partnership is definitely not an even one. That's what Psalm 127 is saying. Those who build the house are laboring: but it's the Lord who really builds the house. The watchmen are waking, but it's the Lord who is keeping the city. So we're not working to produce something for God. We're working with God, to be a very small part of what He's producing. That's really the idea of sonship: that we come into the family business and take part. But we don't delude ourselves into thinking the family business was struggling until we took part: God is and was getting precisely the outcome that He wants.

 

Eternal Occupation

A few weeks ago I was giving a talk in meeting. I made the statement that our eternal occupation will be to learn about the Father and the Son. A brother in the meeting called me on that: he wanted a chapter and verse to support my claim.

Let's point out that this is exactly how the assembly is supposed to function. When someone makes a statement, it is imperative that the other people in the gathering should be willing to challenge it. Now, this brother didn't come out swinging, he didn't tell me I was an heretic, he cast no aspersion on my family. He simply challenged me on my statement and asked me to prove it from Scripture. This is what 1 Corinthians 14 specifically commands: the prophets are to speak, and the rest are to judge. That's not to say I consider myself a prophet, but the idea is that the assembly is a place where we judge what's said.

So this brother brought up a legitimate point, and I'm ashamed to say I didn't have an immediate answer. So I told him I'd get back to him. It's taken me longer than it ought to have, but I've been trying to piece together a reply. I thought this would be a good place to do that; so you get to read my rough draft, so to speak.

Probably the best place to start is with the Lord Jesus' statement at the start of John 17:3, "this is the eternal life, that they should know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent". So according to the Lord Jesus, eternal life is knowing the only true God, and Jesus Christ. This, I suppose, almost completely answers the question. Knowing Him is eternal life.

It's no stretch to say that if knowing Him is eternal life, then it will be at least a huge part of what we're living for in eternity.

Scripture doesn't tell us a whole lot about what eternity will be like. Scripture isn't, after all, written to satisfy our curiosity. But there are some positive statements made that touch on our question. One is in Ephesians 2:

but God, being rich in mercy, because of his great love wherewith he loved us, (we too being dead in offences,) has quickened us with the Christ, (ye are saved by grace,) and has raised [us] up together, and has made [us] sit down together in the heavenlies in Christ Jesus, that he might display in the coming ages the surpassing riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:4--7, JND)

I find this statement interesting, it says one of God's purposes is to use the Church as a display of His grace in the coming ages. It doesn't say who's looking at the display, it merely says the Church will be on display.

This seems to support the notion that eternity will be all about getting to know God better. Not in the sense of a classroom, but in the sense of getting to know Him. As we look at the Church in Heaven, we'll see His grace on display. And the more we look at it, the more we'll see of His grace.

Ephesians makes another statement about eternity:

To me, less than the least of all saints, has this grace been given, to announce among the nations the glad tidings of the unsearchable riches of the Christ, and to enlighten all [with the knowledge of] what is the administration of the mystery hidden throughout the ages in God, who has created all things, in order that now to the principalities and authorities in the heavenlies might be made known through the assembly the all-various wisdom of God, according to [the] purpose of the ages, which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and access in confidence by the faith of him. (Ephesians 3:8--12, JND)

This one is a little different, it says God will use the assembly to demonstrate His wisdom to the principalities and authorities in the heavenlies. Here we have an audience named for the display, but once again the whole point of the display isn't the Church itself, it's the character of God that will be seen as they look on the Church.

So the two eternal purposes of God in the Church in Ephesians are certainly centered on getting to know God better. In the Church we'll see His grace and His wisdom. And that means we'll have an eternal job to do (if I can say it that way): we'll be on display to show Him off.

1 Thessalonians 4 says the whole point of His coming to get us is for us to "ever be with the Lord" (1 Thessalonians 4:17). That was the apostle's encouragement to the Thessalonians, it should encourage us too. He's coming to get us so that we can always be with Him. Notice the Lord said almost exactly the same thing to Peter, "if I go and shall prepare you a place, I am coming again and shall receive you to myself, that where I am ye also may be" (John 14:3, JND). So this is, in a sense, the promise of eternity: there'll come a time when we'll be with the Lord Jesus forever. It's the thought of Scripture that we would be excited by this prospect, that it would be something to keep us moving forward.

Paul said something similar in Philippians 3: "that I may know Him" (Philippians 3:10). This is a striking passage, because Philippians was written late in his life. He'd already learned more than I'll ever know about the Lord, but his goal was to know Him. This suggests to me that we'll never come to know the Lord Jesus completely. I'm not saying He is completely unknowable, but He's definitely not completely knowable. We'll still be knowing Him better for all eternity: even with all eternity, the infinite God will be a mystery to our finite minds.

Having said that, I think I dropped the ball when I was giving that talk. I think I probably talked about knowing about Christ, as opposed to knowing Him. There is a huge difference between the two, although they're not entirely unrelated. I wouldn't say I know a person if I know absolutely nothing about him; on the other hand, knowing all about someone isn't the same as knowing him. It's possible to know a great deal about the Lord Jesus without actually knowing Him. That's not eternal life.

So no, our eternal occupation's not going to be classes in theology. But we will spend eternity getting to know God better. We'll spend it getting to know Christ better.

Clarification

Well, there are already some things being said to me that indicate people haven't been listening. So let's run through this one more time.

I am not saying "brethren" teach what is wrong. I am saying they have developed a system that is collapsing under its own weight. I am in complete agreement with "exclusive brethren" as far as things like church order and inter-assembly relationships. That is, I think what they say about those topics is correct. If they would only do what they say, I would have no problems with them. If they really would allow the Holy Spirit to lead in the meetings, if they really did act in unity instead of descending into schism at every crisis, then I'd be onboard.

I'm not looking for "open reception." I completely buy the whole "guarded fellowship" idea. I'm not in any way suggesting we ought to allow strangers to break bread, nor am I advocating a freelance model of fellowship wherein people just sort of drift from assembly to assembly as they feel inclined that day. What I am saying is, our tests of fellowship are all wrong: we receive based solely on whether someone's a member of the group.

I'm not saying we ought to have clergy, elders, or anything of the sort. I'm saying we're hypocrites when we condemn others for their "pastor" then have a roster of men whose word cannot be questioned. I'm saying that when a man or group of men can effectively overturn an assembly decision, we have clergy in fact, if not in name.

I'm not saying we are wrong to have books, commentaries, and various publications. I am saying that we are in fact committing idolatry when we consider them to be the authority, rather than Scripture.

I'm not saying we ought to jettison things like church order, I'm not even saying things like headcoverings or "open ministry" are unimportant. I am saying that getting externals right is not an excuse to be backbiting, self-righteous, or complacent. The scripture warns very strongly about "having a form of godliness" and denying it's power.

My desire for "occasional fellowship" is not because I intend to visit a whole slew of other assemblies and break bread there. It's based on the conviction that there is no membership other than that in the Body of Christ, and (one-line disclaimers in assembly phone lists notwithstanding) what we practice is sectarian membership.

I'm not saying the assembly where I have been fellowshipping is in sin. I'm saying that I have been compromising on certain things in order to get others. For example, I've been compromising on the issue of reception in order to be in an assembly where the meetings are largely unscheduled so the the Holy Spirit can lead. But I've started to realize that I've made compromises on "intangibles" for "tangibles." That is, I've compromised on issues like pride and complacency so I can see a certain level of correct church order. I no longer feel free to make those compromises. I am not condemning anyone, but I no longer feel free to continue on this course.

That probably won't clear things up to any significant degree, but I felt it worthwhile to lay it all out like that.

Whaddya want?

So what are you actually looking for?

Good question. Rather than just griping about what is, I'm going to talk briefly about what should be. But before I do, let me make a note: as much as possible, I'm going to try and keep these non-sectarian. It's very hard for me (or apparently for anyone else) to separate principle from form. In concrete terms, I frequently have trouble imagining how to practice a principle I see without seeing it in terms of how we practice it. So where I see "the Priesthood of all Believers" as a biblical principle, I have trouble seeing how that might look other than the "brethren" form I've been exposed to. I just want that out in the open. A disclaimer, if you will.

So without further ado, here is a point-form list of some things I'm looking for, in no particular order. There is no way this is complete, but it is a reasonable sketch:

• Worship is central. This is the biggest requirement I have. This is the one reason I would consider an Episcopal church over say a Baptist church. I have no interest at all in a gathering where the central activity is a lecture or (let's be honest) a guilt-trip.
  
• Worship isn't entertainment. I can tolerate a lot, but I have little use for a choir and less for a "worship team". Worship is a participative thing, not a spectator sport. I wouldn't necessarily reject a gathering because of a choir, but it is definitely a negative, in my book. And I would frankly take a choir over a "worship team" every time. At least choirs tend to sing participative hymns: that is, they tend to sing songs that are (in principle) designed for congregational singing. But performance-based music is worse than worthless for me. I can buy a CD of better musicians performing the same music; why would I go to church to hear a second-rate rendition? If your worship team is good enough to cut a record, I'll buy it and listen to it in my car; if not, I'll buy the one from the group that is. Either way, entertainment is for the commute to work, not for the gathering's limited time to worship.
  
• Small is good. I wouldn't necessarily reject a gathering because it's too big, but I prefer small. Smaller lets me interact with more people more meaningfully. Big is fine, but I like small better.
• Informal is good. By "informal" I don't mean "casual" (although I like casual too), but I mean "not ritualistic". I mentioned Episcopal churches above: I've been to a couple, and I frankly enjoyed them. But the whole "stand up, sit down, bow, genuflect, repeat" routine gets in the way of heartfelt worship far too often. Some people claim it helps them worship... I'm not going to call them liars; but ritual is a good hiding place for hypocrisy. And before I go further, the pseudo-ritual all too often where I fellowship is just as bad. Don't take this as an attack on anyone else, ritual comes in many forms.
  
• Buildings are irrelevant. I don't mind being in a gathering that owns a building, but I'm just as happy in a home. In fact, I'm willing to host a gathering in my own home.
• Sectarian titles are bad. I'm not interested in having a name other than "Christian". If there's one thing that makes me grit my teeth in meetings, it's when a group meeting in a school gym is referred to as "such-and-such Hall" or "such-and-such Chapel". They're not a hall or a chapel: those words refer to buildings. If a gathering owns a building, they have every right to name the building however they like: but the name refers to the building, not the gathering in it. To refer to a gathering like that is a sectarian title and nothing more. And don't get me started on the pseudo-title "the assemblies"...
• Leadership is not authoritarian rule. I see nothing in Scripture indicating church leadership is to be a "cram it down their throats" sort of thing. I am personally an "elders are not for today" kind of guy, but I would happily fellowship in a place where elders/overseers are doing the job Scripture lays out for them: not lecturing, not guilting, but leading and shepherding. Teaching is good too (they ought to be "apt to teach"), but there's nothing wrong with having someone else do the teaching. Not all good teachers are good elders.
  
• The Bible is the authority. This one is a lot harder to practice than it might sound, but a reasonable attempt it really what I'm looking for. If someone demonstrates a willingness to change based on Scripture, I think that's all we can ask. No one understands Scripture perfectly; but when we treat it like it judges us, rather than us judging it (to quote someone else); then we're on the right path.

So that's it: an incomplete list, but a good starting-place.

Down to the goal I press

More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3:8--11, NASB

In his excellent devotional commentary on Philippians, Sacrifices of Joy, G. C. Willis renders Philippians 3:14 as "Down to the goal I press." I've frequently had that phrase run through my head over the last decade or so, ever since I first read it in Willis' book. And one question that must arise from such a statement is this: what is the goal?

Right at the start of this blog, I wrote a post titled It's About Him. I want to revisit the ideas in there a little bit: especially in light of the recent discussions of dispensationalism.

Study of God's Word is necessary for the believer. I want to make that absolutely clear; I've been accused of anti-intellectualism far too many times. But I must insist that study is only a means to an end. Theology can be a very good thing, but as my good friend Chuck says, it becomes a black hole very quickly. Theology is a worthless end in itself; the only value in it is as it drives us to know God.

Paul, an Apostle, called by the ascended Christ, through whom so much of the New Testament was written, who received his doctrine by direct revelation; said "I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord". Doctrine and theology are among the "all things": they have value if they drive you to Christ; but they are worthless in an of themselves.

Christianity is a revealed religion. That is, we base our faith on what God has said. If we're too lazy to figure out what that is, we have an empty faith. I am frankly appalled by the number of Christians who are thoroughly ignorant of their Bibles. Regardless of the excuses they give (and I've heard them all), you can't have a strong Christian life if you neglect the Word of God.

But on the other hand, a Christian life characterized by the academic study of the Bible is empty. A collection of facts is a poor substitute for a relationship.

So I want to try and keep perspective here. I didn't set out to write a theological blog (and I'm far too casual and informal to seriously be accused of that anyhow), but I wanted to put up a couple things about dispensationalism because people specifically asked.

Interestingly, the Dawg just made a similar statement on his blog. As much as I'm not trying to just imitate the Dawg, it seems he's been a step ahead of me for the last week or so. I suppose that's natural: I've looked up to him as a sort of "big brother" figure for the last ten years. Still, it's a little awkward...

Dirty Laundry

I've been saying since the outset that I've wanted to avoid airing dirty laundry on this blog: that is, that I want to not spend time bad-mouthing Christians on this blog. As a result, I've been reading and re-reading my blog every once in a while, checking to make sure I don't cross the line.

This has become more important, as people are now actually reading it. I've shared the url for this blog with a few people, and I've linked to it from one online forum where I occasionally participate. Other than that, I've tried to not advertise it: consider that an experiment in graph theory on the web.

Well, I was re-reading last night, and I decided to remove the post declaring myself Post-Brethren. I still hold that view, but I want to re-work that a little and re-post it. It was written in some frustration, and it was honest, but I think I crossed the line a couple times.

So rather than quietly altering the blog, I removed that post (well, I just un-published it), and I'll try and write something a little more controlled to express that, then post it here again.

A final word: I started this blog as a very personal thing: allowing me to express my thoughts and feelings as I'm working through some church issues. So it was not written to be reader-friendly, so to speak. But I have really enjoyed talking things over with the people who have come here, read it, and emailed me or commented. And I've used this blog occasionally to explain a conversation that started in the parking lot after meeting...

So the people who come here and read this, I never really wrote it for you, but I am very happy you're here. And for those people who've discussed this blog with me in comments or email, I've really enjoyed our chats.

And yes, that includes you, Bill.

Starting Out

Another blog? You barely keep up with your old one!

I know, but there is a method to my madness. Or something like that.

There are some issues I'm trying to work through in my spiritual life. These aren't necessarily things that anyone else is interested in, but I'm trying to articulate concerns, challenges, and convictions to myself. I find a blog the perfect medium for writing to myself.

I haven't linked to this blog from anywhere, but I'm not going to restrict access either. This is a semi-private blog in that sense. It will be interesting to see whether anyone finds this, and whether it actually gets read. It really doesn't matter in the long run: if I can get my thoughts somewhat organized here, it'll have accomplished its goal.