Unfortunately, we are currently experiencing technical difficulties (a hardware driver issue in XP). Hopefully I will have an audio version for you next time.

Sermon Date: 04/20/2008
Sermon Passage: Matthew 6:16-24
Sermon Title: Life Coram Deo

SERMON TEXT

Fasting
¹⁶ “And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. ¹⁷ But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, ¹⁸ that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Lay Up Treasures in Heaven
¹⁹ “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, ²⁰ but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

²² “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, ²³ but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

²⁴ “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

SERMON INTRODUCTION

We are in the middle of a sermon series on the book of Matthew, having spent the last couple months working through Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Two weeks ago we dipped into chapter six when you heard Joe speak on ‘habits of peace.’ Last week Pastor Dan took us from verses 5 through 15, which is the section on the Lord’s Prayer. Knowing that I was to follow in the pulpit this week, I tried hard to scribble notes on the back of my bulletin. Unfortunately, I misplaced them somewhere between here and home. So, if you are like me, the one thing you remember most about last week’s sermon is that Dan has never read The Chronicles of Narnia. Can you believe that?!?

For the record, it was 1985 when I read them for the first time. This, of course, was after having read The Lord of the Rings, which is another series that no self-respecting student of literature can confess to having ignored. And may I suggest to Dan (and others…you know who you are), that when you do get around to it, that you read The Chronicles in order of “publication” instead of their current “chronological” arrangement? If you have no idea what I am talking about, then may I direct you to one of the numerous English majors in the congregation? Well, excepting…

Actually, I really have no room to talk about literature or the English language. As David is apt to point out, I am constantly butchering the Objective Case. You and me. Me and you. Steven and I. Steven and me. Depending on the context, one or some or none of those are correct. I was never one to remember all of the formal grammar rules and regulations. Whatever sounds good at the time as long as the point gets across, right? However, one thing that I do remember clearly from my English classes (and don’t ask me why) are the five W’s of journalism—Who, What, When, Where and Why (and depending on your teacher, ‘How’…kinda reminds me of sometimes “Y”…you know, the consonant that’s sometimes a vowel…gets tacked on at the end). So in order to orient you to the passage, where we are at in the series and what the Lord would have us hear, let us take a look at today’s text in terms of the five W’s.

SERMON BODY

WHO?

There are several “who’s” in chapter six. You have the writer, Matthew, who is concerned with writing an historical account of Jesus’ life and ministry. Then there is Jesus, the one Matthew is writing about and the one who is doing the talking. Who is it that Jesus is talking about? Well, you have 1) the hypocrites [do not be like the hypocrites], 2) the needy [when you give to the needy] 3) other people [beware of practicing your righteousness before other people], and 4) of course there is God the Father [No one can serve two masters...You cannot serve God and money].

Now if you are paying close attention, there is an important “who” that I am forgetting. YOU!

Who is Jesus talking to? A crowd, of course. But in terms of the audience’s make-up, we have to keep in mind that this is the Sermon on the Mount, a message explicitly addressed to those who are already disciples. No doubt, there are others who are overhearing, but the message is not how one might become a disciple (which is to reverse the gospel order), but about how, now that one finds himself to be a disciple (of Jesus by the grace of his call), he might expect his life to begin to take shape. It is important that we remember this, not only because it sets the tone for the passage, but also because it applies to Jesus’ disciples who are living today, some 2000 years later, in the 21st Century.

WHAT?

The Continuing Fulfillment of the Law

The “what” of this passage, in keeping with the theme introduced and developed in the Sermon on the Mount, is essentially, “What is the character of one in whom the ‘Law is being Fulfilled?’” Jesus says back in chapter 5:17-20 that he came to fulfill the Law:

¹⁷ “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. ¹⁸ For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. ¹⁹ Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. ²⁰ For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Whoa! That’s a little disconcerting. So, how exactly do you and I—being the losers that we are—get to partake in this life of über-righteousness that exceeds that of even the Pharisees?

As Dan and Joe have covered for us already, the “fulfillment” of which Christ speaks is not the “doing away with” but a “perfecting, a bringing to perfect, planned completion.” The Law was always about 1) the manifestation of the character of the living and faithful God, 2) the training of that character into the visible, day-to-day lifestyles of God’s people for 3) the display of his holy and righteous and life-giving ways among the nations. Christ comes to perfectly manifest that full dynamic 1) on our behalf so that 2) we may be free from our debt to the requirements of the Law so that, in turn, 3) we may be secured and equipped to conform to the character of the Law by the sanctifying work of Holy Spirit for 4) the display of the riches of his glory and grace in Christ before the nations.

In terms of the heart of God’s Law—from the day it was delivered on Mt. Sinai to the day it was fulfilled in the life and work of Jesus Christ—it has been less about “avoiding” certain behaviors, as it has been about the “pursuit” of a particular character that gives rise to distinctive behaviors; a character and covenantal behaviors that correspond to the character and faithfulness of God. In this case, if we turn back to chapter five, beginning in verse 21 and follow along (just picking up on the section headings in your bibles), the law is less about “not” murdering, “not” lusting, or “not” divorcing, as it is about cultivating and nurturing life and working to “flourish” life.

For example, if one man holds a grudge against another, then the righteous response is one of seeking out that brother and reconciling with him, because the man’s anger is causing him to die. In terms of lust, women in our culture are honored when we men treat them not as sex objects, but with the respect and dignity they deserve as image bearers of the Creator. Spouses flourish in their mates love, but wither and fade when adultery destroys that trust and security.

In other words, Jesus is not describing mere formalities (don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t chew; don’t go with girls that do), but rather a change of character, a new disposition toward people; one that “habitually,” or instinctively, longs for the life of others to flourish (and so groans in compassion with those whose life is wilting, fading, shriveling, or bound).

The Practices of a Righteous Life

This brings us to chapter six, where Jesus turns to the practices of a righteous life before God—through alms-giving, prayer and fasting. This sermon is titled, “Life Coram Deo.” Coram Deo (a Latin phrase) literally means “before the face of God.” It carries the notion of our living in the presence of God, under the authority of God and to the honor and glory of God. It is what each person was designed for by their Creator. Our joy, our satisfaction, our delight and our very lives are to be in God and for Him alone.

So there is a sense in which all of chapter 6 is about a righteousness that, while it is visible to the watching world, is only concerned about the evaluation of the Lord. Thus 6:1 introduces the theme: “beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, … [rather, practice your righteousness in such a way as to secure the pleasure and glory of God.]”

Martin Lloyd-Jones writes in his book on the Sermon on the Mount,

“The whole of chapter 6, I suggest, relates to the Christian as living his life in the presence of God, in active submission to Him, and in entire dependence upon Him. … a man who knows he is always in the presence of God, so that what he is interested in is not the impression he makes on other men, but his relationship to God.” (Sermon on the Mount, v1; p25)

As Dan alluded to last week, we would refine that a bit by suggesting that the Christian life is to be lived self-consciously and self-awarely AMONG men, but before and for the pleasure of the living God. In our prayers (take for example our weekly Prayers of the People), we should be aware of the edifying and God-glorifying effect of our prayers upon the congregation, but we should offer them entirely and solely for the praises and prizes of God.

Thus Lloyd-Jones says:

“… when he prays, he is not interested in what other people are thinking, whether they are praising his prayers or criticizing them; he knows he is in the presence of the Father, and he is praying to God.” (Sermon, p25)

And so similarly, relative to the particular passage in view today: our fasting (that is, going without that which is considered [by whatever cultural/societal authorities] a basic need in order to clarify our vision of God’s sufficient and generous provision) ought to have the sacramental effect of (almost inadvertently) offering a window into the glories and freedom of assured, unhindered fellowship with the living God and his generous provision of our every need, thus portraying the glorious gospel; our freedom from “accumulation-ism” has a sacramental effect of (almost inadvertently) offering a window into the riches of contented joy and hope found in the midst of “want” (how ever a given society defines “want”) as we revel in the glorious and generous provisions of God our Father; and as Dan will pick up on in next week’s passage, our freedom from anxiety in a world eaten up with angst and worry and paranoia has the sacramental effect of (almost inadvertently) offering a window into the contented peace found in the presence of the sovereign and good God—all by the powerful working of God in Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit.

WHEN?

Fasting

It is interesting that in verse 16 Jesus does not say, “If you fast,” but “when you fast.” Fasting—occasional abstinence from food or drink—in order to bring the body into submission to the spirit, is a practice mentioned frequently in the Bible (and generally in connection with prayer). In the Old Testament we see that people like Esther (before going to Ahasueres), King David (when his child was sick) and Daniel (when he sought vision from God) all fasted. In the New Testament we see that the Apostle Paul and Barnabas fasted together (when they appointed Elders).

Fasting is rarely practiced in today’s Christian church, but is much more common in other religions and cultures. In fact, it is increasingly in vogue for people in our contemporary culture to practice a “secular fast,” simply for the physical and mental benefits of purging the body. Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset during the month of Ramadan. Jews fast on the Day of Atonement, the only fast that God actually required in Scripture (Lev. 23:27). And while there is no direct command to fast in the New Testament, it seems that Jesus (who had an expectation that even his disciples were going to fast after he departed) was implying that fasting was a good thing—just be careful about how you go about doing it.

Jesus says that when you fast do not be like these people. Do not be like the hypocrites. The English word here is passed right over from the Greek hypokrites, which means “play-acting”, “acting out”or “feigning” It was used of actors who wore a mask. A hypocrite was a person who used a mask whenever he acted in Greek tragedies or Greek comedies. You wore a mask so that people would not know who you were. And so a hypocrite then became a person who maybe they did not wear a physical mask, but they wore some kind of a mask so that people did not really know who they were.

And Jesus says o not be like those people who are hypocrites whenever they fast. He says, “You know when they are fasting. They mess up their hair.” They had lots of hair and rather than brushing it, washing it or combing it; they would leave it in a wild tangled mess (if you grew up in the 80′s, kind of like Robert Smith of The Cure). They would not wash their faces. They would probably put ashes on their faces. Essentially, they would look like they had been fasting. It was very obvious to anyone who looked at them that they had not washed, had not combed their hair, that they were engaged in a fast.

What Jesus says is, “Those people who are doing that—they have gotten what they are after.” He does not say, “Do not fast.” On the contrary Jesus says, “When you fast, do it this way. Wash your face. Put oil on your face. Brush your hair. Make sure that people who are around you do not know what you are doing. You see, you are doing it to honor God and not to honor other people.” And as we saw before, as he says again in verse 16, “Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.” This is the reward that the hypocrites were after—the praises and prizes of men—and they got exactly what they were after.

And to be honest, who among us has not felt good for being admired for our accomplishments? We have a hard time with rewards, do we not? As Puritanical Protestants we are very suspicious of living for rewards. And yet we were designed for living for rewards. It is how the Creator made us. It is one of the reasons why idolatry is such a problem for us. The question we are really getting at is not whether or not we should live for rewards, but rather which reward are we going to live for?

While I could probably spend the rest of our time just talking about the spiritual discipline of fasting, it would miss the point that I think Jesus is trying to make here. Jesus says in verse 18 that you want your fasting to “not be seen by others BUT by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Now it is not a sin if someone finds out that you are fasting. As John Piper said in a sermon on this passage, “Being seen fasting and fasting to be seen are not the same. Being seen fasting is a mere external event. Fasting TO BE SEEN is a self exalting motive of the heart.”

And so there is something internal going on here with the first eighteen verses of Matthew six. It’s a question not simply one of do we choose the praises and prizes of the Father over the praises and prizes of men, but do we delight in the Father in such a way that it leads to real gospel fruit? Jesus tells us to be perfect in our life before the Father. True righteousness forces the question—before which God will we live? This is the question that Jesus has been leading up to, which he unpacks in the remainder of our passage.

WHERE?

Laying up Treasures

And so in verse 19 Jesus gives us the illustration of treasures. Before he talked about “when,” that is, “when we give,” “when we pray” and “when we fast.” Here he talks about “where.” Be careful where you put your treasure! Jesus says there are two places you can put your treasure. The first place is on earth. And there are certain things that can happen to your earthly treasures. Wealth in ancient times consisted not simply of money and precious metals, but was also represented by the clothes that you wore (not much unlike our culture today). The homes of the hot, dry Palestinian climate were often made of clay, so thieves could easily break into your homes and steal your stuff—literally digging right through the walls with a shovel. So often people would attempt to safeguard their wealth by investing it with moneychangers, depositing it in a temple or burying it in the ground or in caves; unfortunately that’s exactly where moths would eat the clothes and rust would attack the metals, thus destroying their value.

Note here that Jesus does not say that treasures are bad or that you should not have riches, just be careful where you keep them.

“²⁰…but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

But I can see why we Christians can easily think that money is evil, especially when we get to verse 24:

²⁴ “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

And so we end up with this love/hate relationship with our money, as if the money itself is the root of all evil (the verse is actually “the love of money”…). Here in the ESV translation the word used is “money,” but in your Bibles it may have the Greek word mammon, which is a Semitic term for money or possessions. “You cannot serve God and Mammon.” Another word for Mammon is idols. In other words, you can serve God or you can serve your false gods.

William Barclay, a Scottish theologian, says something rather interesting about mammon in his commentary on Matthew:

Originally it was not a bad word at all. [...] It comes from a root which means to entrust; and mamon was that which a man entrusted to a banker or to a safe deposit of some kind. [...] But as the years went on mamon came to mean, not that which is entrusted, but that in which a man puts his trust. The end of the process was that mamon came to be spelled with a capital M and came to be regarded as nothing less than a god. The history of that word shows vividly how material possessions can usurp a place in life which they were never meant to have. [...] Surely there is no better description of a man’s god, than to say that his god is the power in whom he trusts; and when a man puts his trust in material things, then material things have become, not his support, but his god… One thing emerges from all this—the possession of wealth, money, material things is not a sin, but it is a grave responsibility. If a man owns many material things it is not so much a matter for congratulation as it is a matter for prayer, that he may use them as God would have him to do. (Barclay, W: The Gospel of Matthew The New Daily Study Bible Westminster John Knox Press)

And so when Jesus talks about where, where we lay up our treasures, we come back to that question of whom shall we serve—the God of Heaven or the god of men? Without denying or diminishing the fit and finish, the design and divine purpose of our alms-giving, our prayers and our fasting; in a very real sense they are simply examples in the passage for the many ways in which we can live out our brief lives on this earth. The question once again is before which god will we live? To pick up on the money theme: to which storehouse are we bringing our treasures?

WHY?

As we turn now in our outline to the fifth W (the WHY), I want to talk a little about the practical application of this passage—leaving you with hopefully some answers, but also raising more questions to ponder as we continue in this series.

In that same sermon John Piper said of Matthew 6:24,

…laying up treasures in heaven and laying up treasures on earth are not good bedfellows. You have to choose between them. You can’t say, “Well how about both?” That’s the point of verse 24: “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”

Piper goes on to say that “there is something about God and money that makes them tend to mastery,” but I still find myself wondering exactly WHY? Exactly why is it that we have such a hard time choosing between God and Mammon? I mean, the choice should be clear, right? One of these things is not like the other!

One obvious reason we trust in money or possessions is simply because of their allure combined with our lack of contentment. Think of it this way: any one of the experts on personal finances will tell you that the problem with staying out of debt is that our culture teaches us that we deserve a lifestyle that we cannot afford, a lifestyle that is beyond our dreams and realistic expectations. We have a difficult time making choices and sacrifices because we are weak, which oftentimes lands us into trouble. Jesus warns us to be careful where we put our treasures, because it is too easy to seek after the lies of the world rather than the pleasures of the Father.

A second reason why we fail to put our trust in God, is that we want to be God. Have you seen that MasterCard commercial where they guy’s wife says he can finally buy a new TV, so he goes to the big box electronic store, drools all over the floor and finally text messages his credit card company to check the balance on his account? The whole time there is this song playing in the background that says, “I want it all, I want it all, and I want it now!” The commercial makes me uncomfortable, in part because it’s fiscally irresponsible, but mainly because it strikes a desire within me. What we really want (but are afraid to admit) is to be able to live for ourselves. And we are oftentimes willing to wreck our finances to get it, only to later realize our mistake and need to get our lives back on track.

A third reason why we put our trust in Mammon and not God, is that we simply do not trust God. I remember years ago how I would write my tithe check on payday, only to slip it into the back of the check register and save it for later, just in case. In spite of that nagging voice of the Spirit that eventually gave rise to confession and repentance, I would tell myself: “Let’s see if we can make it to month end first. Then we’ll put it in the offering plate.” You see, I agreed in principle that God deserved my first fruits, but in practice I doubted in his generous provision of my every need.

But thinking back to what William Barclay said about the things in which we put our trust, I think there is a fourth reason why we do not trust God—because we often fall into a false sense of security.

A year ago the war in Iraq dominated the headlines, but now all you see and hear about is the sub-prime mortgage crisis, prices at the pump, rising inflation, the ballooning national debt, higher unemployment and that which (according to the folks at the Federal Reserve) must not be named. The R word. Alright, I’ll say it: RECESSION.

It is a scary time for those of us who have mortgages, car loans, credit card balances and other things held at banks. Some of us may own our homes outright, or have a rainy day fund set aside, so at least we can trust in that, right? The last time I checked my salary still seemed to be going up every year, though not always keeping pace with inflation. Do any of you use Quicken? Isn’t it cool how on the one hand you have your declining balances, but over on the left side of the page all of your assets and liabilities are rolled up into your total net worth? You may not be much in the black, but at least we can say to ourselves that we are making progress, right?

Maybe you are like me in that you have been following various programs to enable debt-free living? Now I’ll be the first to admit that I knew the principles of personal finance years ago, but actually sticking with a plan—that is the hardest part! It has taken me years and I am still not completely “free and clear” (as the title of our current Sunday School material goes). Yet even with the stimulus package coming down the pike—free money from above, like manna from the Fed—I find myself weighing my options: pay off lingering debt vs. big screen TV. “Your priorities are so out of whack,” I tell myself. “Deny yourself, the TV you have is fine and in the long run you will be better off and more secure.”

Yet as soon as I have made my decision and resigned myself only a 32” TV, I hear a little nagging voice: “You’re not trusting in the security of your possessions, but are you trusting in your security?” Do not get me wrong—like alms-giving, prayer and fasting—financial stewardship is one of the principles of God’s righteous design. Proverbs 22:7 says that “The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is the slave of the lender.” I do not need a show of hands, but I think that most of can identify with this statement: Being in debt is the equivalent of being enslaved.

But the flip side does not necessarily follow, does it? If we are not indebted to the world, then to whom or what are we indebted? Do we not owe a debt to our Saviour? Otherwise, it is simply not all about ourselves? Again, being debt-free, saving for retirement, starting college funds for the kids, having a home, driving a car, owning things that make life better—all of these are from our Heavenly Father, the same Creator God who stood in the garden beheld “everything that he had made, and [said] it was very good” (Gen. 1:31). But they are only good to the end of more effective worship of God.

Now I may tell myself that being financially secure is all about noble things, like living off of a single paycheck so that Pam can stay home with the kids, or so that we can be used someday for the mission field (you may not be aware that MTW does not accept applicants who are in debt); but we must be very careful not to turn our desire for security into an idol (that is, dying to our earthly debt only so we can live more for ourselves). We have to be asking ourselves, “Am I investing more in my own life or in the kingdom?” Is even my financial stewardship seeking the praises and prizes of men, or am I seeking by faith the pleasures of God?

You have no doubt heard the joke (to many a preachers’ consternation), “Come work for the Lord. The work is hard, the hours are long and the pay is low. But the retirement benefits are out of this world.” The truth for me and for many of you, and I know the reason why it is so hard not to get wrapped up in the pursuit of the praises of men, is that when it comes time to cash in that eternal pension plan, we do not trust that our benefits will be there. We do not believe it. We simply don’t believe the Gospel. And Jesus is saying to us, “When all of your earthly pursuits, programs and possessions fade away—when you have nothing else to cling to—is God enough?”

HOW?

Now before I forget, there is also the “sometimes HOW” that gets tacked onto the journalism outline: Who, What, When, Where, Why and How. So how is it that we are supposed to live like this? How are we to lay up treasures in Heaven, let along get there? After all, to get to Heaven our righteousness DOES have to exceed that of the scribes and the Pharisees, remember?

I hope you are not walking away saying to yourselves: “That Jesus, what a great example. Man, I gotta be more like him.” The fact of the matter is that you can’t. Yeah, yeah, I see where you’re coming from. Thanks for the reminder. But before you waive it off as getting it intellectually, lets admit that practically speaking we often don’t get it. Or if we do, we soon forget. It’s why we need to preach the Gospel to ourselves daily.

Here is an example of how I do not often get it: Suppose it is pointed out to me that I treat my kids harshly. My response is that I am frustrated with how I am unable to love my children, because I am unable to be like Jesus. In my anger I have jettisoned my position in Christ and I am desperately trying to justify my own righteousness as a father. But when I recognize my failure as a father IN CHRIST, it results instead in confession (going to my children and seeking forgiveness), repentance and hope.

Way back in Chapter 5 of Matthew, Jesus says that he came to fulfill the Law, to BE our perfect righteousness. Christ says he is the Fulfillment of the Law: “FOR you and IN you as Disciples, I am the Fulfiller.” But by the time we get to Chapter 6 all we hear is: Don’t do it like this, do it like that. Not this/that. It is as if Jesus were saying: “I am the fulfiller of the Law, and you can, too, if you follow me.” But what Jesus is really saying is “Don’t do it like that, but like this IN CHRIST. Not this, but that IN CHRIST. When you fast don’t do it like the hypocrites, but do it like this IN CHRIST.

Our position (and therefore our hope) is IN Christ. That is, Christ is the Fulfiller; Christ is the Vision; Christ is that Perfect Righteousness for which we Hunger and Thirst and by which we are Satisfied—and by which we, too, in turn, become the MANIFESTATION of God’s glory, quite literally and truly, the Light and Salt of God’s perfect Righteousness. In other words, we are the HOW by virtue of our POSITION in Christ as his disciples (do you remember the point I made earlier about the audience—that Jesus is not addressing people in general, but those who have already been called and made disciples?).

SERMON CONCLUSION

In closing, I want to go back to a section that we almost skipped over, verses 22 and 23:

²² “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, ²³ but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

Do you have a single focus? An all encompassing passion? Proverbs 29:18 says, “Where there is no prophetic vision the people cast off restraint [or are discouraged], but blessed is he who keeps the law.”

The Christian life of righteousness for which we are chosen, called and re-created in Christ, is the priestly life of Light and Salt in a dark and dying world; we are commissioned by the living God (and so are solely concerned with his evaluation of us), but we are commissioned on behalf of the world (thus our life before God and for his pleasure becomes a blessing of God’s grace which provides Light in the darkness, and life-preserving Salt in the midst of death).

Without revelation, without the glory of God, the people perish. What are the different currents in your life? Of which master will you serve? Where is God compelling you to taste and touch his Kingdom building work? Is it adoption, fostering or weekend respite care? Is there a way you can be a blessing to the families in our community? Can you be a support to the local elementary and middle schools—perhaps through mentoring a young child or helping with an after school tutoring program? What about the shut-ins living in the apartments down the road, or simply dealing with folks who are unlike us? There are many answers, but the question Jesus is asking us is always the same, “Where are you going to invest your retirement?”

His Dark Materials

I have to confess that I am slowly but increasingly becoming unsure of how to respond to the (persistent, pervasive, and burgeoning) paranoia borne of ignorant unbelief among professing Christian believers. The fact is that the Christian faith from the first days of its inception (for convenience’s sake I refer to Acts 2) has been intensely and passionately attacked (and, of course, we immediately think of Saul of Tarsus; and rightly so. But our faith compels us to follow that story through to the end, and answering the question [perhaps even with an air of gloating], “Who’s in charge now, Saul? Who’s the King now, Saul? Huh? Huh? C’mon, man; you’re so tough, you’re so big! Got anymore fight left in you? Huh? Cat got’cher tongue?” But, alas, we seem to only have confidence for such gloating at boxing matches, post-season football games and playground brawls; such real-world confidence seems out of place in the world of faith and religious practice).

In his review, Mohler writes:

So, what’s the problem?

This is not just any fantasy trilogy or film project. Philip Pullman has an agenda — an agenda about as subtle as an army tank. His agenda is nothing less than to expose what he believes is the tyranny of the Christian faith and the Christian church. His hatred of the biblical storyline is clear. He is an atheist whose most important literary project is intended to offer a moral narrative that will reverse the biblical account of the fall and provide a liberating mythology for a new secular age.

The great enemy of humanity in the three books … is the Christian church, identified as the evil Magisterium. The Magisterium, representing church authority, is afraid of human freedom and seeks to repress human sexuality.

The Magisterium uses the biblical narrative of the Fall and the doctrine of original sin to repress humanity. It is both violent and vile and it will stop at nothing to protect its own interests and to preserve its power.

Pullman’s attack on biblical Christianity is direct and undeniable.

So… Satan’s own attack on “biblical Christianity” continues to be direct and undeniable; from the days of the garden, Satan (who is no mere literary character if we are to believe the Biblical account) has had “an agenda about as subtle as an army tank [...] nothing less than the exposure of the tyranny of the Christian faith and the Christian church” (Echoes of the garden: “Did God REALLY say that? Whoa! Pretty heavy-handed and oppressive, don’t you think, Eve? I mean, c’mon; what sort of god would keep such goodies from you except a tyrant intent on oppressing and controlling you?! Take my advice and I will grant you all the delicious, savory wisdom that he is keeping from you.” — and the first lottery ticket was sold and the persistent promise has proven irresistible ever since.)

Of course, if “biblical Christianity” is something that must compete to maintain its market dominance then we have something to worry about. But “biblical Christianity” is nothing of the sort; the gospel is not a product to be peddled to the end of securing and protecting a monopoly or even a controlling interest in some cosmic religious marketplace. Evangelism is not a sales pitch by a sleazy used-car salesman who will do anything to close the deal and increase his sales. No. The proclamation of the gospel is the yelling out of the greatest headline in the history of the cosmic war (World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Gulf I, Gulf II — all child’s sandbox play by comparison): “Victory! The enemy has been vanquished; King Jesus reigns supreme in glory!” complete with the implications being writ in smaller type below: “Rejoice! Rest! For the promised future of Shalom is here” (cf Jeremiah 29). As the writer to the Hebrews (who were incessantly and increasingly and intensively attacked because of their faith) writes, take courage and confidence “for you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet … but you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem … and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant … therefore let us be grateful [and confident in our gratitude] for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.” There is nothing new here; and the Word of comfort and confidence remains the same for those in the 21st Century who profess faith in Jesus of Nazareth, the anointed one of God, as for those who professed that faith in the 1st Century: “while we do not yet see everything put in subjection to mankind, we see [Christ] who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor.”

Of course, the entirety of the preceding two paragraphs grants that Pullman’s attack is directed against “biblical Christianity,” [an unfortunate slip on Mohler's part] for just like Brown and The DaVinci Code, the “Christianity” that is attacked is one that Jesus himself attacks; it is no more “biblical” than 1st Century Pharisaical Judaism was Mosaic. It reminds me of a PCA pastor who has also written (albeit, far more tenderly and sympathetically than Pullman) against the syncretistic mess that passes for “biblical Christianity” in 21st North America. Pullman’s portrayal is a twisted and ugly caricature; in fact, it is a Christianity from which Christ [and the gospel he embodies] is entirely absent. As Jeffrey Overstreet points out, the attack is not even as bold and direct as Dan Brown’s was in that it does not take on the person and work of Jesus himself, or even the “Church’s made up legends about Jesus.” Yet the fact remains that history is full of examples of people who fell to the ground in defeat when they have tried to take on the Christ of Christianity itself: Paul, of course; Augustine; Lee Stroebel; C.S. Lewis; an increasing number of scientists …

At the same time: while being disappointed in Mohler’s somewhat alarmist tone, I would agree with him (and Overstreet below) that just because the Victory is certain and the perseverance of the saints is secured in the certain, irrevocable reign of King Jesus, God’s anointed, does not mean that we can simply continue playing cards and sipping toddies on our front porch as the battle rages. No, we have been conscripted into battle — we and our children (Paul’s main and climatic pastoral point in Ephesians). We fight even as we train them to fight. We seek to develop discernment and wisdom in desperate dependence upon the Spirit; we teach our children to desperately depend upon the Spirit to develop discernment and wisdom and skill in wielding the Sword of God’s revealed Wisdom. But we do it not as those anxiously trying to fend off almost certain defeat; we battle rather as those who know that we are engaged in the last days of the battle, the (very real, very dangerous, and very painful) clean-up effort. The Enemy will not simply cede his territory but will try to take as many enemy combatants down with him as possible. Nevertheless, his apparent statistical and geographic gains notwithstanding, the Victory is secured — and it is that real, historic confidence that issues in humility and strength that we do battle.

For Further Reflection

The two Q&A excerpts below are taken (by permission) from Jeffrey Overstreet’s article. Overstreet reviews movies for Christianity Today. You can find the full post (recommended) at the CT Movies site.

Isn’t this just the Harry Potter controversy all over again?

No. This time, there really is a serious problem. But God forbid that we respond to Pullman the way we’ve responded to J.K. Rowling. We’ve just been through a decade in which fearful, judgmental people have burned Harry Potter books, called J.K. Rowling a witch, and warned us that children who read her books will become warlocks. (This reminds me of those folks who told me, when I was ten, that if I saw The Empire Strikes Back, I might be lured into Buddhism.) What we missed with Harry Potter was the power of fairy tales, which use magic metaphorically and symbolically to help us understand mysterious concepts and appreciate the marvelous, otherworldly reality of grace.

And we encouraged a generation of children to believe that you can’t be a Christian and also value fairy tales—a devastating deception. As Lewis and Tolkien have discussed and proposed, fairy tales reflect the truth of the gospel in a unique and timeless way. In fact, Lewis became a Christian through discussions with Tolkien about fairy tales.

Many Christians also overlooked the fact that, in damning the Potter series, we were persecuting a Christian woman who has admitted that the process of telling those stories was a journey of sorting out her own faith and persistent doubts. We missed that there were Bible verses woven through the stories and glimmering with truth.

But Pullman is a different storyteller. He says, “I’ve been surprised by how little criticism I’ve got. Harry Potter’s been taking all the flak. I’m a great fan of J.K. Rowling, but the people—mainly from America’s Bible Belt—who complain that Harry Potter promotes Satanism or witchcraft obviously haven’t got enough in their lives. Meanwhile, I’ve been flying under the radar, saying things that are far more subversive than anything poor old Harry has said. My books are about killing God.”

Okay, maybe we shouldn’t boycott and complain. But what should Christians do?

These recommendations come from my humble opinion, and you’re welcome to disagree.

Essentially, don’t behave in ways that the Magisterium in Pullman’s books would behave. You’ll just make his stories more persuasive, by confirming for the culture around us that Christians only really get excited when they’re condemning something.

Instead, respond with grace and love. And truth. Admit that, yes, Christians have committed grave sins in the name of Christ, and that those shameful misrepresentations of the gospel have made many people fearful of, and even repulsed by, the church. But Christians have been called to serve the oppressed, proclaim freedom for the captives, bring healing to the sick, to seek justice, to love mercy, to walk humbly, and to bring good news of “great joy.” And by God’s grace, many are living out that calling. They paint quite a different picture than what Pullman has painted.

Finally, educate yourselves and equip your kids with questions—lenses, so to speak—that will expose the problems in these stories. (Worried about padding Pullman’s pockets by investigating the books? Fair enough. But there’s always the library.)

What questions might you and your kids ask as you read Pullman’s books? Some suggestions:

• If we cast off all “authority” and set up “free will” as the ultimate source of guidance, where will that get us?
• Has the world shown us that the human heart is a trustworthy “compass”?
• Does free will lead us always to the right choice?
• If the heroes accept the “truth” of the alethiometer (the compass itself), aren’t they letting themselves be guided by just another source of truth—another “Authority”? But didn’t the story tell us “Authority” is bad and we should only follow our own hearts?
• If there are “many truths,” then aren’t these heroes being as self-righteous and wicked as the oppressors by demanding that their version of the truth is better than others?
• What is so inspiring about the battle between the bears? Hasn’t this story led us to a place where it’s just “survival of the fittest” all over again? Should we really hope that the world falls into the hands of the strongest fighter, rather than into the hands of love?

Finally, pray for Philip Pullman. Pray about the influence of his work. And pray for humility and wisdom in your own response. Pullman is just a man who, somewhere along the way, got a very bad impression of the church. It’s also worth noting that Pullman’s father died in a plane crash when Pullman was only seven years old. I don’t know if that had anything to do with his view of God, but many men who have struggled with the idea of a loving, caring, benevolent God are those whose fathers abandoned them or died while they were young. Boys without fathers often grow up with deep resentment, and having no focus for that pain, they target God.

[Of course at this point you may have stopped reading; but if you happen to still be awake at this point: regarding Overstreet's point here, you may be interested in the book "Faith of the Fatherless: The Psychology of Atheism," by Paul Vitz, the back cover of which starts out, "Despite its pretensions to cool-headed rationality, modern atheism originated in the irrational, often neurotic, psychological needs of a few powerfully influential thinkers." Vitz considers the lives of such influential thinkers as Nietzsche, Russell, Sartre, Camus (who, I think, actually professed a living faith shortly before his death), Freud, and O'Hair.]

I want to be careful here: I am not explaining Pullman to you, because I don’t know him. But that detail made me stop and think about how little I know about his experiences and motivations. Shouldn’t I be praying for him instead of condemning him? Shouldn’t I be looking for ways to show love and respect to the man, even as I look for ways to expose the flaws in his work? Pullman’s not likely to reconsider his notions about God if those who believe in God organize a full-scale assault against him and his work.

© Jeffrey Overstreet 2007, subject to licensing agreement with Christianity Today International. All rights reserved.

Don’t Waste Your Life

In his book The Problem of Wine Skins: Church Structure in a Technological Age (IVP, 1975), Howard Snyder writes:

In the Old Testament, God’s concern with the poor consistently appears within the context of the justice of God and the working of justice among God’s people. Thus, biblically, words such as “the poor,” “the needy,” “the oppressed,” “the sojourner,” typically have moral content, relating to God’s requirements for justice. This is not easily comprehended in today’s world because “the poor” does not have such a moral content for us. It has a purely descriptive sense; one might say that for us it is a purely secular word. But what we must see is that poverty itself is of ethical significance – the poor is a moral category. In God’s world there is no human condition which escapes moral significance; and the poor, and the treatment they receive, are strong indicators of the faithfulness of God’s people.
(quoted by Waldron Scott in Bring Forth Justice [Paternoster, 1980, 1997])

The above is a helpful observation — namely, that “poverty itself is of ethical significance … the poor, and the treatment they receive, are strong indicators of the faithfulness of God’s people.” — especially when you consider some of the observations and comments from a recent Barna survey (okay, so Barna will win no prizes for careful sociological research, but his surveys do provide helpful, if informal, snapshots of the state of the evangelical heart.):

Interestingly, evangelical Christians were only half as likely (11%) as the rest of the adult population to deem poverty to be the nation’s most vexing social challenge. Asian Americans (11%) were similarly less likely to see the issue in this way.

Only HALF AS LIKELY? Admittedly, most evangelicals would deem “salvation” as the nation’s most vexing social challenge, but still: “half as likely”? What about the (coincidental?) correlation between “evangelical Christians” and “Asian Americans”? Of course, there is no necessary (explicit or implicit) link between the two pieces of data, but the juxtaposition in a recent Barna report raises the question: what is it about “evangelical Christianity” that would produce a similar attitude toward poverty as that among “Asian Americans”? Might it be that our informal comparison between “Japanese Buddhism” and “Bible-belt Christianity” is a bit more substantive than we have been willing to allow? Is this attitude toward poverty among Asian Americans related to that body of worldview ideas/values that hinders (through willful blindness, ignorance, and stubbornness; cf Ephesians 4:17ff) Asian Americans from truly hearing the gospel of God in Jesus Christ? And do “evangelical Christians” share the same worldview structures? That is, are “evangelical Christians” similarly hindered from hearing the gospel of God in Jesus Christ?

In this light, the following paragraph from later in the same Barna report is rather interesting:

In like manner, people groups that are more affluent provided the smallest estimates of poverty. On average, people from households earning more than $60,000 as well as those who have a college degree estimated the poverty rate to be 20% – substantially below the typical estimate offered by adults, but still significantly higher than the actual rate published by the Census Bureau.

Statistically, it appears that our material “well-being” [in itself a loaded use of a loaded-term ...] and consequent lifestyle actually blinds us to the needs of those around us: think about it — we travel well-maintained roads from white-collar business districts to well manicured subdivisions: our daily commute, by design, does not take us through the most needy parts of our community; we shop at the cleanest stores in the most pristinely and carefully developed areas, often unaware of the people displaced by the development. On occasion — only about 20% of the time, to use the above statistic — we stumble uncomfortably across the “poverty” [by which WE mean those "less fortunate" {whatever that slippery term means} than us] around us and so are forced to acknowledge that “yes, it’s there” — and someone should do something about it.

The Barna article concludes:

Barna expressed surprise that devout Christians were not more engaged with the issue. “Given the extensive comments in the Bible regarding the importance of taking care of the poor, we expected to see a larger distinction between the responses of Christians and non-Christians. As churches seek social causes through which to engage people and their faith, facilitating hands-on responses to poverty would probably activate a lot of latent faith and resources.”

So I wonder (and view Piper’s chapter in new light): how far have I drifted from the gospel of God in Jesus Christ that I fail to apprehend the essential, organic — and profoundly moral — link between “a life worthy of the calling” and “my obligations to the poor”? How far have I drifted, similarly, that I fail to apprehend the essential, prime place of “suffering” as God’s good and gracious tool by which he “grows me in grace”? What gospel is it that shapes me if not the gospel of God in Jesus Christ? What spirit and mind possess me if not the Spirit and Mind of Christ who willingly laid aside his own wealth and privilege to serve a wretch like me, even paying my full debt?

+++++

Recently I came across the writings of a different Richard Lovelace—the contemporary Richard F. Lovelace, professor of church history at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, who, other than name, has little else in common with the hasty 17th century cavalier lyricist, except for having a gift at conveying complex principles (albeit a lot less flowery). One such example is the following passage from “Dynamics of Spiritual Life: An Evangelical Theology of Renewal,” a book that takes a deep dive into a world where revival is “normative;” exploring the reality that our seemingly ordinary “spiritual lives” are being radically shaped and altered by God. Writing on the issue of “the gravitational force toward enculturation,” that is, the gravitational force of fallen humanity to wed the truth of God’s redemptive proclamations to the forms and functions of fallen humanity as embodied in the surrounding culture, Lovelace says:

“The evangelical stream, however, was only partially dis-enculturated, and it became increasingly less so, … But it was still largely wedded to the Puritan version of the training-code morality [an enculturated version itself; a thorough-going product of the enculturation of the gospel, rather than the "separatist" image we have of Puritanism ...], which caught on in Pietist circles also. As the understanding of grace declined in revivalism, evangelicalism erected a stronger shell of protective enculturation to guard it from the world. Not only did it cling to the Puritan taboos, but in the nineteenth century it added more: wine and tobacco, both of which had been consumed by both Reformers and Puritans. The early Temperance movement was motivated by social compassion for the victims of distilled liquor during the stresses of the Industrial Revolution, and it really called for temperance. When moderation seemed too difficult a spiritual discipline and too slow a remedy, the revivalists of the 1820′s and 30′s moved on to redefine temperance as abstinence, to the horror of Charles Hodge [professor at Princeton Seminary], who protested that the replacement of Communion wine with grape juice was an insult to Jesus and to biblical ethics. … A few decades later, coffee and tea were added to the taboo list by revivalist Charles Finney [whose] understanding of justification and sanctification were essentially severed from any doctrine of union with Christ; in effect, he taught justification by sanctification and not by faith, and sanctification by will power more than by grace.” (Lovelace, Dynamics, p194, emphasis added)

Note the connection at the end of the passage between the development of a moralistic training-code ethic and the “disconnect” of justification from the person, work and life of Christ and the union of the believer in Christ’s person, work and life. As Lovelace says almost explicitly, the degree to which we lose a clear focus on the nature and place of the “grace of God in Christ” we develop calcified hearts; as we become increasingly “accustomed to grace,” as is generally the case here in the Bible Belt, we become increasingly impervious to the life-work of grace itself.

The thrust of his argument: revivals tend to fizzle at the rate that the clarity, centrality and certainty of “God’s grace in Christ” diminishes; and the corollary—those who are “asleep in the light” are wakened and energized at the rate that “God’s grace in Christ” becomes more intensively clear and indispensably central and un-movably certain to the understanding and practice of all of life. How? It is by the prayerful, faith-filled preaching, teaching, and counseling of the Word, which is always (thankfully) accompanied by the Spirit who overcomes our faithless and self-protective resistance so as not to flop lifeless on the sanctuary floor, but so that it will have its intended, life-creating effect.

Along these lines we (those who are called as leaders in the Church) find that one of our greatest shepherding struggles involves 1) getting disentangled from the “enculturated” way in which we understand, live and teach the gospel of “God’s grace in Jesus Christ” and 2) struggling to articulate in winsome and convicting ways the extent to which we are addicted to pursuit of the Kingdom according to the forms, functions and patterns of fallen humanity. That is, it is not merely that we say “no” to “drink, smoke, chew and going with girls who do;” but more to the heart of the matter, it is that we seek to pursue “Jesus” and “the life of Jesus” and even “the righteousness of Jesus” according to the strategies and systems of the world, “according to the flesh,” as Paul says in 2 Corinthians.

Pursuing Christ and His Kingdom “according to the flesh” is so profoundly, deeply and pervasively a part of who we are and a part of the religious industry in the South, that anything that directly or indirectly counters it is dismissed out of hand—sometimes, but rarely, dismissed violently and explicitly; but more often dismissed out of hand by benign, though willful and ignorant, blindness and deafness (cf. Eph 4:17ff).

May we therefore be continually reminded of our shepherd calling: namely, to lift high the cross of “God’s astounding grace in Jesus Christ” in such a way that we and the congregations given to our care are consciously and increasingly gripped by its reality, pulsing through every aspect of life in a fallen world.