Hating Sin

“Work in your hearts a hatred of sin… If a man had killed your friend, or father, or mother, how would you hate him! You would not endure the sight of him, but follow the law upon him. Send out the avenger of blood with a hue and cry after thy sin; bring it afore God’s judgment seat, arraign it, accuse it, spit on it, condemn it and thyself for it, have it to the cross, nail it there, if it cry I thirst, give it vinegar, stretch the body of sins upon his cross, stretch every vein of it, make the heart strings crack; and then when it hangs there, triumph over the dying of it, show it no pity, laugh at its destruction, say, Thou hast been a bloody sin to me and my husband, hang there and rot. And when thou art tempted to it [sin], and art very thirsty after the pleasure of it, say of that opportunity to enjoy it, It is the price of Christ’s blood, and pour it upon the ground. … Shall I live upon that which was Christ’s death? Shall I please myself in that which was his pain? Shall I be so dishonest, so unkind, as to enjoy the pleasure for which he endured the smart?”

—Thomas Goodwin (1600—1679), Christ the Mediator in The Works of Thomas Goodwin (RHB), 5:294.

“Beat the gospel into heads continually”

coke-machine

To a group of pastors in London, Tim Keller explained the inner workings of an old Coke machine in his Manhattan apartment building. After inserting the proper coinage, Keller explained, you must pound the side of the machine with your fist. After a couple of smacks the coins can be heard trickling down into the heart of the machine. A Coke falls into the bottom tray. Without beating the side of the machine, the coins don’t settle and the Coke will not fall.

Keller takes this metaphor into the pulpit. While preaching, he thinks of his audience as an assembly of Coke machines. His audience needs a little pound on the side of the head to get the truth of the gospel to sink into the heart and to produce spiritual fruit. He laughs when he says this, but the point is true.

Luther knew this centuries ago. He wrote,

“Here I must take counsel of the gospel. I must hearken to the gospel, which teacheth me, not what I ought to do, (for that is the proper office of the law), but what Jesus Christ the Son of God hath done for me: to wit, that He suffered and died to deliver me from sin and death. The gospel willeth me to receive this, and to believe it. And this is the truth of the gospel. It is also the principal article of all Christian doctrine, wherein the knowledge of all godliness consisteth. Most necessary it is, therefore, that we should know this article well, teach it unto others, and beat it into their heads continually.” *

I am thankful to God that I am surrounded by pastors, friends, and a wife who are skilled at swinging the gospel hammer. I’m always in need of it.

So who swings the gospel hammer in your life?

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* Martin Luther, St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (Smith, English & Co. 1860), p. 206.

Photo © RedMorris

Get behind me, Satan!

What’s behind Jesus’ stinging rebuke of Peter in Matthew 16:23 and Mark 8:33?

Satan must have been conscious that the approaching cross would become the moment of his personal defeat. In his public ministry, Jesus clearly connected the cross and the defeat of Satan (John 12:31-33). This explains why Satan worked diligently to entice Jesus off the road to Calvary in the desert temptations (see Matt 4:1-11). These temptations were Satan’s attempt to block Jesus’ path to the cross, to hinder Jesus’ victory over evil. Satan could smell his own defeat.

So as Jesus spoke to the disciples of His impending death upon the cross, Peter rebuked him for the idea (Matt 16:21-22). Yet Peter’s rebuke—no doubt conceived and motivated by Satan himself—became yet another roadblock, one last attempt by Satan to knock Jesus off the path that led to the cross. Inadvertently, Peter was now acting in tandem with the intentions of Satan, seeking to distract Jesus from his ultimate purposes in the cross.

[For more on this see John Piper, Spectacular Sins (Crossway, 2008), pp. 100-101. Download the book for free here.]

Was Jonathan Edwards Cross-Centered?

Yesterday morning I received the latest addition to the growing stack of books written (at least in part) to defend centrality of the cross in the theology of Jonathan Edwards. These books could not come soon enough.

The latest is Craig Biehl’s The Infinite Merit of Christ: The Glory of Christ’s Obedience in the Theology of Jonathan Edwards (Reformed Academic Press, 2009). Biehl argues that Edwards’ focus on the work of Christ has been overlooked and neglected by modern academic revisionists, scholars more interested in Edwards’ philosophy than his exclusivist biblical theology. Decades of revisionist interpretations of Edwards’ Christology have left us with a “lopsided and inaccurate” interpretation of his works (pp. 5-6). Biehl sets out to refute this revisionist interpretation, and restore an accurate awareness of the centrality of the Christ’s work in Edwards’ thought.

Biehl writes in the intro:

“…from the time of his earliest sermons until the end of his life, the person and redemptive work of Christ were the foundation of Edwards’ Trinitarian theology. In this modest and narrow exposition of Edwards’ understanding of the merits of Christ’s obedience, I intend to show that this Christological and redemptive aspect of Edwards’ theology is central to his overall God-centered and Trinitarian thought and the key to understanding his view of the nature, purpose and acts of the Triune God. For the ultimate purpose of God to display and communicate His glory is accomplished through the person and redemptive work of Christ.” (p. 20)

Biehl  writes in the conclusion:

“The center of Jonathan Edwards’ theology is the person and meritorious work of Christ in redeeming sinners, in perfect and free obedience to God’s unalterable rule of righteousness, in the accomplishment of the ultimate Trinitarian purpose of the display and communication of God’s glory. Such is both the foundation and unifying thread throughout his writings. Indeed, it is difficult to conceive of any aspect of Edwards’ thought that is not directly or indirectly dependent upon or related to the person and work of Christ in His accomplishment of God’s ultimate purpose.” (p. 249)

Further evidence that Jonathan Edwards’ worldview was thoroughly Christ-centered and cross-centered.

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Related post: The Cross in the Preaching of Jonathan Edwards

Comfort and the Victory of the Cross

“True Gospel comfort never plays down to natural weakness: it lifts up to supernatural strength. There is nothing enfeebling or demoralizing about it, no flying to the drug of fantasy. It is essentially virile, bracing, reinforcing. And what gives it this character, preserving it from the risk of sentimentalism, is the Cross at the centre of it. In the last resort, the human heart is too big to find its comfort in any soothing anodyne of consolatory words. There is no comfort short of victory. And it is this, nothing less, that the preacher of the Gospel is empowered to offer to all who turn their faces to the Cross—the comfort of mastering every dark situation, and triumphing in every tribulation, through the grace of Him who conquered there.”

—James S. Stewart, Heralds of God (Hodder & Stoughton, 1946), p. 79.

What Adam Lacked

Before sin slithered silently through the open gate, the Garden of Eden was perfect. Adam had his own flawless wife, a garden without blemish, and the responsibility to subdue and cultivate his spacious, well-watered, rural setting.

Adam possessed much. He worked a great job. He enjoyed a perfect marriage. He was at peace with all of creation—no tornadoes, no drought, no pollution, no death, no sickness, no tears. So what could be lacking?

From the beginning, the purity of the garden, the peace among the animals, his relationship with his wife—even Adam’s own life—were all conditioned, conditioned upon his faithfulness to God’s will. God’s will was not demanding, was it? There for the enjoyment of the couple was a small forest of fruit trees, that produced more fruit than probably could be consumed. Only one tree was forbidden and nothing in this single condition diminished Adam’s joy in any way.

But this condition represents something big because it points to the one thing Adam could not possess in the Garden of Eden—certainty.

The condition meant that Adam’s perfect marriage was delicate, the climate of the perfect garden climate was fragile, Adam’s future in the garden was uncertain, and even the duration of his now perfect and potentially eternal body was questionable. Every piece of his situation could be shattered by a single decision divergent from God’s will. And we know that in one single bite this fragility swept into the garden to steal away the innocence. As the jaw of a perfect man clamped down on the fruit that represented man’s disobedience, sin plunged the dagger in man’s idyllic world, and creation fell into a swirling chaos of pain, the beginning pains of the disorder that is the matrix in which we live and breathe.

But here is the amazing fact.

What distinguishes the pre-fall Adam in the perfect garden from me, a post-fall sinner redeemed by the blood of Christ, is as wide as the distinction between uncertainty and certainty. Certainty is God’s gift He gives His children in Christ. Sure, we lack the paradise now, but we do not lack the certainty. Those who have placed their faith in Christ are safe and certain in Christ’s protective power, immune from all the threats in life that could never shake us from eternal life with our Father (cf. John 10:22-30, Rom 8:38-39).

How can this be? How can a sinless man live with temporal uncertainty and a sinful man live with eternal certainty? Simple. Christ is our obedience. It was our uncertainty that was put to the test in the wilderness temptations, it was our certainty on the line when Christ was tempted in every way throughout his 33 year life. It was at every moment, in every thought, deed, and desire that our certainty was tested. Christ was without sin. He was the perfect Savior! And He could say the words that Adam never could—It is finished.

And because we are united to Christ, because he lived without sin, because he lived a life under the law to perfection, he becomes our certainty. The perfect life and death of Christ represents the completion of a perfect life—no sinful actions, no sinful thoughts, no sinful decisions. Once complete, a life of perfection brings with it perfect certainty.

Whatever spectacular dreams we entertain of Eden—and it certainly was a paradise beyond anything we can experience in this life—we possess in the gospel something foreign to Adam’s pre-fall experience. May we thank our Savior for this precious gift of eternal assurance, the one thing even a sinless and perfect garden could not promise.