The Week-est Link, June 28, 2008

1. Here's a PDF copy of the 9Marks eJournal I mentioned yesterday. It's on marriage and pastoral families. A terrific issue, as I said. Thanks, Z, for the note.

2. Did you miss the audio download from the 2008 Band of Bloggers session? If so, here it is. Some of the best commentary from Christians on blogging that I've heard.

3. A Nashville church recently hosted a conference on the church and theology. Speakers included D. A. Carson, Tim Challies, and Steve Lawson. The audio material looks tremendous. Download it and see your vision for the church expand before your eyes. So exciting to see churches, not seminaries, do this kind of thing!

4. If you are in the market for faith-building music that just happens to be elegantly played and beauitfully sung, check out Red Mountain Church's cd "Help My Unbelief." I recently downloaded it and love it.

--Have a great weekend, all.

Dever and Packer on the Importance of Penal Substitution

The following quotations are from the latest Crossway "Book Report" (HT: JT). They include very helpful statements. Of course, these statements only scratch the surface of the topics covered. If you want to read more about the current state of atonement theory and the biblical case for penal substitution as the central motif of New Testament atonement theory, I would heartily recommend both In My Condemned He Stood by Packer and Dever and Pierced for Our Transgressions by Brits Jeffery, Ovey, and Sach. Both were published very recently by Crossway, and both will prove very helpful in understanding contemporary debates and a robust biblical conception of atonement.

Here are the questions and answers from the "Book Report".

Crossway Books: What are some current objections to the doctrine of substitionary atonement?

J. I. Packer (JIP): One stream of thought claims that God’s holy, just nature does not require any form of propitiation at all. Another claims that for God to expose, and indeed direct, his Son to suffer as a substitute for sinners would be divine child abuse.

MD: Many critics have even suggested that we proponents of penal substitution are trashing all other views, or at least ignoring them. I’m not sure I’ve ever read a book on the atonement which does that. Their argument is, I think, theological caricature. The truth is that there’s a soundly biblical and logically compelling case for considering various biblical images of the atonement, and that the image of penal substitution is legitimately considered central. That is a more subtle argument, and Jim Packer makes it superbly in this book.

Crossway Books: You coin the term “anti-redemptionism” as that which the church is up against today. What exactly is anti-redemptionism?

JIP: It’s the view that God forgives or ignores our sins without requiring their punishment. It was the Father’s wisdom to make his incarnate Son our representative substitute who endured the punishment due to us. Liberal Christianity regularly denies this.

MD: One simple way to understand it is the view that people are basically okay, and that we don’t have to have anything quite as dramatic as redemption to fix what needs fixing. Because no name exists for the unorthodoxy we have in view in this book, we labeled it anti-redemptionism. Its essence is sidelining—and in some cases actually denying—the work of Jesus Christ as our Redeemer, who did all that had to be done to save us from hell, in favor of the idea of Jesus as teacher, model, and pioneer of godliness.

If these quotations pique your interest, and I hope they do, consider purchasing these books, and enhancing your own view of the atonement vis a vis the attacks on penal substitution. You might not know it, but many professing evangelicals today question strongly the idea that penal substitution is the central atonement motif in the New Testament. In such times, we need good resources like those Crossway is providing, both to teach us and to keep the church centered on this most central of scriptural teachings.

Hong Kong Travelogue, Day One: Discovery and Jetlag

I'm in Hong Kong with the Henry Center, my employer, as we're hosting an international conference on evangelical identity. I'll be blogging about the conference on the Henry Center blog and will cross-post here.

The Henry Center has gone international. Director Doug Sweeney and Managing Director Owen Strachan (the author) are hosting an international conference in Hong Kong, China this week that covers the topic of Christian identity in diverse situations. A number of faculty from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, IL are joining, as are scholars from Westmont College, Beeson Divinity School, Christar in India, Alliance Bible Seminary of China, Evangel Seminary in Hong Kong, and China Graduate School of Theology. Students from TEDS and local seminaries will attend, as will area pastors and interested laypeople. The conference will be on May 29-31 (see here for more details), but most of the conference speakers are here.

It is my privilege to give you just a little taste of this exciting event through a blog series. I don't have a lot of time, and there's a great deal going on, but my posts should give you a window into what we're doing. We are really excited by this conference, as it's not common for Christians from East and West to gather together for such meaningful and productive fellowship. This is a very unique part of the privilege it is to labor for Christ in a world of increasing connection.
Without further ado, my humble little travelogue.

Day One (and Two): Discovery and Jetlag

(Sunday) 9:00am--Say goodbye to wife. Brave the wilds of O'Hare Airport. Check-in goes surprisingly well.
9:30am--11:35am--Wander O'Hare in search of vitals. Debate on which magazine to buy when confronted with 13,000 choices.
11:35am--Board plane for flight to Hong Kong. Sit for an hour. Am aware of what it is like to be a distinct ethnic minority. Think to myself that this experience is going to be very good for me.
12:35pm--Fifteen hour flight to Hong Kong commences. Ponder the fact that I've only once been on a flight longer than eight hours. Begin reading book (one).
1:15pm--First movie (of five!) begins screening.
3:45pm--Start reading book (two).
6:45pm--Lunch is served. A little plate of noodles and chicken with a microwaved roll never tasted so good.
1:15am--Both seatmates are asleep, as is most of the plane. I'm staying up so that I can sleep once we arrive in Hong Kong (we will arrive at 4:30pm their time--HK is 13 hours ahead of Chicago time (CT)). Realize that this means I have to stop reading. Commence watching of "27 Dresses."
1:25am--End watching of "27 Dresses."
2:30am Chicago Time, 4:30pm HK time--Arrive at HK. Connect with fellow TEDS folks. Find our escort. Drive into Hong Kong.

I'm going to break in here and talk for a bit about my first impressions of the city. For those who don't know, it's a port city. In addition, though the city stretches over many miles, the terrain is quite hilly, even mountainous. There is not a great deal of actual real estate in the city. Thus, there are skyscrapers everywhere. The roads are narrow. The city is very clean. It is utterly baffling to be in such a tightly constructed area. Not a spare inch is wasted. After we arrived at our hotel, we went out for a bite to eat. Along the way, we entered a mall whose ceilings could not have been higher than 7.5 feet. Little tiny shops proliferated, and people were almost back to back. I noticed a number of real estate shops--places advertising apartment housing. The rooms in these apartments boggle the mind, as they're nothing less than tiny. Yet if one wants to live in the city, it appears that this is standard--less than 800 square feet for whole families is quite normal. For many Americans (outside of New York), such an apartment would be quaint. Here, it is standard.

The city is crawling with red taxis. At one stoplight, roughly thirty cars were stopped. Over half were taxis. Big rectangular buses swoop in from out of nowhere and park on a dime. It's interesting to ponder what it would be like to live in a city like this all of one's life. One gets used to simple things like seeing thousands of people per day. In general, people seem to move in their own isolated trajectories with little sense of the larger flow of others. Chinese pop music is everywhere. It throws me off, because I expect to hear American voices. In just a few blocks, we pass five banks. The market here seems to be exploding. Little noodle shops are also everywhere. Some smell good to my American nose, others hint of strange foods I've never encountered and couldn't imagine.

I have never felt like more of an outsider in this world than these moments. I don't say this in a negative sense, as if I think that people are excluding me. No, I mean more what is cold, hard fact: I am an outsider. All around me are people speaking words I can't understand. Language appears now more of a unifier than ever before. Walking along, I yearn to be able to connect with others through language. It is perhaps the simplest means of communication, one we take for granted, and I have no access to it, and am thus something of a shadow in the city, a passing presence who might as well not be there.

Back at the hotel, we ready for rest. We're all flagging, and jetlag is working its stupor-inducing magic. Before I fall asleep, I look out my window. A place like this reminds one of the bigness of God. He oversees all of this, all of the madness, the controlled chaos, the billions of people who live and walk and buy noodles in places just like this. I am overwhelmed by this city--though I've seen probably 1/50th of it--and discover that it is in places like this, places that overwhelm the senses and boggle the mind, that God's sovereignty and presence becomes very real. In a natural sense, there seems to be no center, no common point around which this all coheres and takes shape. Life is anonymous, moving at light-speed, insignificant. With God, though, there is a center. Better than this, there is a personal center. God is here. He is ruling. He is caring for His people and His world. To eyes struggling to take it all in, His transcendence emerges clearest. It is not simply in the pastures and meadows that we find God, and our need for Him. It is in the city, walking on sidewalks, surrounded by ten thousand people who do not know my name, do not speak my language, and do not even know I exist.

That concludes day one (and two). I put this all under day one because our flight and arrival was of a piece, though it stretched over two days. The value of this experience will, I know, be immense, and I am thankful for the opportunity to be here, to go outside of myself, to fellowship with fellow Christians of foreign background, and to learn lessons of faith in a new land. Tomorrow, I'll give you a snapshot of our sightseeing, and the next few days, I'll take you into the conference, and give you some highlights.

Theologian Russ Moore on the Story of Scripture

Today, I found a great link from Tim Challies's website. Dr. Russ Moore has just published a lengthy and incisive essay on the story of Scripture. It relates heavily to the development of Christocentric theology, a topic I've discussed at times on this blog and one which I'm working through in seeking to develop my own theological system.

In hopes of advancing this discussion, here are three sections from Moore's essay, "Beyond a Veggie Tales Gospel: Why We Must Preach Christ from Every Text."

1. What Scripture is fundamentally about--

"Every text of Scripture--Old or New Testaments--is thus about Jesus, precisely because, at the end of the day, everything in reality is about Jesus. Why is there something instead of nothing? Why are human beings religious? Why do people want food and water and sex and community? Why are there galaxies and quasars and blue whales and local churches? God is creating all that is for His heir, for the glory of Jesus Christ. When you see through Jesus, you see the interpretive grid through which all of reality makes sense.

With this in mind, the Scripture tells us that all of Scripture tells us the story of Jesus. The Gospel writers show us how Jesus fulfills the Scripture, but, interestingly enough, He doesn't simply fulfill direct and obvious messianic prophecies. He also relives the story of Israel itself--exiled in Egypt, crossing the Jordan, being tempted with food and power in the wilderness during a forty-day sojourn there. Jesus applies to Himself language previously applied to Israel and its story--He is the vine of God, the temple, the tabernacle, the Spirit-anointed kingship, the wisdom of God Himself."

2. How the story of Scripture can be missed, and corrupted--

"There's plenty of Veggie Tales preaching out there, and it's not all for children. As a matter of fact, the way we teach children the Bible grows from what we believe the Bible is about--what's really important in the Christian life. There's also such a thing as Veggie Tales discipleship, Veggie Tales evangelism, even erudite and complicated Veggie Tales theology and biblical scholarship. Whenever we approach the Bible without focusing in on what the Bible is about--Christ Jesus and His Gospel--we are going to wind up with a kind of golden-rule Christianity that doesn't last a generation, indeed rarely lasts an hour after it is delivered.

Preaching Christ doesn't simply mean giving a gospel invitation at the end of a sermon--although it certainly does entail that. It means seeing all of reality as being summed up in Christ, and showing believers how to find themselves in the story of Jesus, a story that is Alpha and Omega, from the spoken Word that calls the universe together to the Last Man who governs the universe as its heir and King."

3. How Christ's centrality in Scripture and life relates to our lives as Christians--

"It is only when I see what God is doing with the world through Christ, and for the glory of Christ, that I am able to see where I fit in the big storyline of the universe or in the little storyline of my own life. The Apostle Paul's words to the Romans are familiar passages of comfort for believers. "And we know that fro those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose" (Rom 8:28). This verse does not mean, however, simply a cheery "What doesn't kill you'll make you stronger; hang in there." Instead, Paul says that the believer's little story ultimately is a glorious one because it is part of a larger story, that I may be "conformed to the image of His Son, that He may be the firstborn among many brothers" (Rom 8:29). How do I know that my story ends happily? I only know this if I am found in Christ.

But, if I am, then like all my forefathers and foremothers before me, I am free from condemnation, liberated from the curse, triumphant over death, the heir of the universe, the child of God in whom He is well pleased. How do I know this? I know it because I know the story of Jesus. I know that David may be dead and buried--but Jesus was raised. I know that Moses may never have walked in the Land of Promise--but Jesus has received it. I know that Abraham never saw with his eyes his descendants outnumber the stars--but Jesus stands before His Father, "Behold, I and the children God has given me" (Heb 2:13). I know that when the Accuser indicts me of sin, that I am worthy of sharing a lake of fire with him and his minions, I point to Jesus Christ, and announce, "I have already been to hell--and, in Christ, there is therefore now no condemnation."

This is beautiful, rich, weighty writing. Whether you agree with every point or not, I would encourage you to read the entire piece. It would be great for a Bible study or group of Christians to think through together. Or, it would be great simply to think through on your own as you attempt to piece out the story of Scripture, the story of your life, and the way the two fit together.

Embodied Theology: Or, a Brief Investigation of How Theology Applies to Life

I'm taking a PhD class on the Enlightenment with the master historian John Woodbridge. He's a genuine gem of a Christian scholar, as he combines humble piety with an academic pedigree including a PhD on the Enlightenment era from the University of Paris, a teaching stint at Northwestern University, and multiple monographs, including the hugely influential The History of Biblical Authority (Zondervan 1982).

In the course of this class, we've covered many of the "philosophes", hugely influential 18th century thinkers who combined brilliant but irreligious writing with lifestyles awash in decadence. One of the best-known philosophes is the social and political theorist Jean-Jacques Rousseau. There's much one could say about Rousseau (on the state of nature, social compact theory, etc.), but I will focus here on a little-known aspect of the Frenchman's life: he left all of his children to the state. That's right--the man who literally wrote the book on how to raise children, the classic work Emile, cast off his children in pursuit of pleasure and unimpeded contemplation. Rousseau, you see, was no mere high-minded thinker; he was actually a despicable person, despite how he might be viewed by certain sectors of society.

This got me thinking about theology. We are all like Rousseau. By this I mean that we all live out our beliefs. Though Rousseau portrayed himself as an expert on the family, he was the farthest thing from it. Thus, the way he embodied, or lived out, his ideology shows that he didn't really embody it at all. It may be easy for us to scorn Rousseau (or whomever) for his utter failure to live out his teaching, but how well do we embody our own theology? Having been rescued by grace, do others find grace in us? Having been saved by the mercy and kindness of God, do others see such mercy and kindness in us? Believing that every human being is an imprint in some sense of the very form of Deity, do we treat people of all types and beliefs with respect and compassion? In short, then, do we live out our theology? Does our life embody our doctrine?

This question must be asked of Christians of all stripes. In my own life, though, I identify most with the reformed tradition. So I pose this question to myself and other reformed types. Does how we live match up with what we believe? Do we represent graciously the truths we hold fast? While clearly and unapologetically standing for what we believe, are we kind to those who differ from? In engaging the culture, do we shout at it, or do we reach out to it? We all must acknowledge that we stumble in many ways. We do better at this in some seasons than others. But I wonder if we in the reformed movement, broadly speaking, might do a far better job than we have of embodying our theology.

One of the main ways that people end up subscribing to a doctrinal system is by seeing it lived out. This is of course not the only way, or perhaps even the primary way, that people's minds and hearts are changed, but it is nonetheless a key factor. How good it would be if we of the reformed stamp were not merely polite, but nice. How much more might we see others warm to the biblical truths we hold so firmly? Most of us don't struggle at all with being bold and defensive in our theologies. But many of us struggle with living out the theology we believe in a kind, compassionate, accessible way. This is not in any way to call for weakness or holding hands or pretending differences don't exist. We need not fly to ignorance to flee from folly. But it is to say that, for perhaps many of us, we do little to represent reformed theology well to those who, for whatever reason, are already closed to it.

This is by no means a very developed little piece on this subject. It's merely a musing on a matter that came up in a class far removed from the issue at hand. But I do think that there is something potent to be said about the way one practices one's faith. Rousseau, after all, ends up looking like a fool. It's hard--though not impossible--to take his Emile fully seriously after knowing his history. Despite what some might say in the current day (or any day), it is not possible to divorce one's philosophy from one's life. If the two do not necessarily rise or fall together (after all, we all have feet of clay, and thus all fall prey to hypocrisy at some point), then we may still they are closely connected. One is moved to take care, then, by Rousseau's example, lest one--like Rousseau--end up embodying a theology that is in practice the opposite of what it is on paper.

One Thing Jeremiah Wright Has Right: The Pastor Is a Theologian (and the Theologian Is a Pastor)

There's been much to-do about Barack Obama's pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright. I came across a helpful collection of resources from NPR on the theological stream in which Wright fits, the black liberationist theologians and preachers. If you have a few moments, take a listen. NPR, of course, slants strongly left, but they're well-researched.

Beyond that, I don't have much to say personally about Rev. Wright that has not been said. (Russ Moore, for example, has some helpful thoughts on this subject.) It's not really my bag to write about what other people who share my general perspective have written. With that said, there is one aspect of this whole controversy that I haven't heard much discussion about. It is clear that Rev. Wright styles himself as the thought-leader of his church. He does not seem to adhere to the "CEO" model of ministry or something like that, at least not in his pulpiteering. No, he's almost old-fashioned in that he clearly attempts to teach his people a theological system (that of black liberation theology). It so happens that I think that this system veers well off the scriptural course, and that is hugely lamentable, but I do admire one (and only one) aspect of Wright's program: he does not shirk back from arbiting theology and doctrine to his people. He is clearly the theological gate-keeper of his church. He is unquestionably the doctrinaire of his congregation. He jealously guards the right to provide spiritual direction to his people. In this light, Rev. Wright fits comfortably in the historic stream of theologian-pastors, a line that is slowly reviving after being crushed by the heel of pragmatic, anti-doctrinal ministry methodology.

Do not be confused. I am in no way endorsing Rev. Wright. I simply found it fascinating to find a man, albeit a man I view as tragically misled and confused, claiming unapologetically the role of pastor-prophet in an age dominated by "visionaries", "CEOs", and "professionals". This is not to say that there are not others who fill this role. In recent decades, we have seen something of a renaissance of the theologian-pastor in evangelical circles, with men like John Piper, Phil Ryken, Mark Dever, John Stott filling pulpits across the world. Each of these men could easily be an academician, but they have all chosen the pastorate as their primary role. There are many others who fit this same bill who are currently pastoring, and there are many, many more--a whole movement's worth--who are currently in training and who will, I would predict, fundamentally change the face of the American pastorate in coming years. Many Christians of my generation has rebelled against a vacuous, doctrinally wispy life and have instead embraced a robust, meaty way of thinking and living as redeemed people. A sizeable corps of young men have committed themselves to years of academic and ecclesiastical training in order to serve churches as theologian-pastors. These are exciting, heady times, and they signal, I believe, a coming shift for the American church--and, one can hope, for the global church.

Okay, okay, you may be saying. Great. But what's with all this confusing language--"pastor-theologian" versus "theologian-pastor"? And furthermore, Owen, why have you reversed these terms? Because of this: I think we might be misusing the term "pastor-theologian". This term should properly refer not to a person who is first and foremost a pastor, but a theologian. "Pastor" in such a phrase is modifying "theologian", after all. Therefore, those of us who want to be pastors should call ourselves, most properly, "theologian-pastors", because there the modifying word is "theologian". Does this make sense?

But with this minor squibble aside, let me say something that I've been thinking a bit about. Just as we need "theologian-pastors" (by which I'm referring to theologically astute pastors), so also are we in great need of "pastor-theologians" (by which I'm referring to academic scholars who bring pastoral concerns to bear on their work). There is a gigantic need for exegetes, historians, theologians, systematicians, and philosophers who see their work as done, generally speaking, in service of the church. Perhaps you've encountered scholars who don't seem to practice such a philosophy of scholarship, but who do theology in such a way that they talk in abstracted terminology, chase rabbits (for multiple books or classes) that have little relevance to an actual person, and generally show evidence of forgetting that their ministry is accountable to their local church and responsible for equipping pastors and laypeople. Such a class of thinker, it is hoped, is on the wane in Christian circles, even as the ecclesiastically attuned class of theologian is on the rise.

These scholars do not study, publish, and teach to pursue their own eccentric interests and doctrines, but to assist Christians in the task of understanding the Bible and its teachings as they apply to life and ministry. For this class of thinkers, church members are not a burden, but an audience; questions of all theological stripes are tackled not simply to satisfy one's curiosity, but to teach believers; and writing is composed not to wow fellow academics, but to instruct local church pastors and their members. This is not to say that there is no place for theological, historical, exegetical, and philosophical works of advanced depth and narrow focus; there is, and I would never seek to belittle such projects or demean them as unvaluable. These endeavors may well have value, perhaps great value, and we should regularly encourage our scholars to undertake them and to engage in the highest levels of scholarship. At the same time, it is my personal conviction that we should encourage our gifted scholars and teachers to reach us with their teaching--and not only this, but to aim at us. How blessed we would be if theologians styled themselves as pastor-theologians, and aimed to instruct the local church not incidentally, but primarily.

We need theologian-pastors (shepherds). This is our greatest need. But we also need pastor-theologians (scholars). We must be careful not to think that only one group is important. We do not need merely a continuing recovery of a vital, doctrinally focused pastorate. No, we need the continuing recovery of men like Carson and Sweeney and Ware and Mohler and Hamilton and Packer and Akin and Wells who engage in the sacred task of Christian scholarship in order to bless, help, rescue and vitalize the local churches that populate our world. Here's hoping that the future will bring, as I think it will, an army of doctrinally savvy, theologically precise, culturally engaged pastors who will lead local churches with great energy and faithfulness. And here's hoping that marching alongside them will be a great cavalry of scholars, who will help those pastors to steer Christians away from error, to love truth and live life doxologically, and to emerge victorious in the great struggle for true life that engulfs us all.

Bruce Ware on Christ and a Spirit-Empowered Ministry

We are all blessed in many and different ways, but a personal joy for me is the fact that I have a theologian for a father-in-law. Deep question come up? Write an email. Theological incongruity emerge? Ask your in-law. Mysterious doctrine baffle the mind and heart? Pull up a chair after dinner. I don't often publicly mention how blessed I am to be the son-in-law of the humble, gifted, godly Bruce Ware, but I want to today. It is a privilege and a great help to me--I am so thankful for my father-in-law, for his ministry to church, academy, and world, and for his great personal kindness to his family. I don't deserve to be related to him, but I am honored to be so.

I say all this because my friend, "JV," (also known as Josh Vincent, a Florida pastor and SBTS grad) asked a great question in reference to my blog last week about the role of the Spirit in Christ's life prior to his anointing by the Spirit at His baptism. Here is JV's series of questions in full: "What are your thoughts on the presence of the Spirit with Jesus prior to his descending upon Jesus. Was Jesus without the Spirit prior to this? Also, do you think there is a qualitative or quantitative difference in the way that we have the Spirit or the communion enjoyed and that which Christ himself lived in?"

I found this a difficult and thoughtful question, and so wrote Dr. Ware for his thoughts on the matter, which I sought to present as he teaches (though if I made any errors, they are my own, not his). I present his answer here with his consent in hopes that it will help others as it has helped me to understand the relationship between Christ and the Spirit in Christ's lifetime. Here goes:

"Since the OT predicts, among other things, that the coming Messiah would have the Spirit upon him, the Spirit who would manifest in him understanding, wisdom, and the fear of the Lord (e.g., Isa 11:1-2), I take it that he would have had the Spirit from the very first instant of his life as the God-man. So, Luke 1:35 means, among other things, that when the Holy Spirit brought about the miraculous conception in Mary of this God-man, Jesus the Christ, the Spirit would have indwelt him from the instant he was conceived. A couple other reason for thinking so are: 1) if John the Baptist, the forerunner of the Messiah, was filled with the Spirit while in his mother's womb (Luke 1:15, 41), wouldn't the Messiah even more so be filled from the start? 2) the reference in Luke 2:40 that Jesus grew in wisdom and that the grace of God was upon him is best understood, in my view, as a reference to the Spirit upon Jesus enabling him to have the wisdom and understanding that he had, even to the point of marvelling the teachers of the law at the temple as a 12 yr old boy (Luke 2:41-52).

So, what happened at his baptism? I understand this as a special and powerful anointing of the Spirit, much as the Spirit came upon prophets or judges or civil rulers in the Old Testament, and as he came upon Peter or other apostles even after Pentecost when they had already permanently and previously received the Spirit. Jesus' baptism marked the beginning of Jesus' public ministry wherein his teaching, miracles, resisting more severe temptations, etc, were all about to start. So, while Jesus was already indwelt with the Spirit from the moment of conception, the Spirit came upon him in a special way for the outward ministry to which he was embarking. Also, the public display of the Spirit coming on him as a dove was an empirical marker to others that he was none other than the Spirit-anointed Messiah (John 1:29-34).

All of this upholds the thrust of what you argued in your blog -- that Jesus lived his life in the power of the Spirit, and as such, he truly is an example for how we too are to live. As Packer has put it, "Jesus the Spirit-bearer became the Spirit-giver." The empowerment for his obedience and resistance of temptation is the empowerment given to his followers -- note: see the obvious and intended (I think) connection between Acts 1:8 about how we are enabled to fulfill God's mission, and the description of how Jesus lived his life in Acts 10:38. And so, yes, Jesus' first 30 years were also lived in the power of the Spirit, while his last years of ministry, teaching, cross, and resurrection evidenced even greater outpouring of Spirit-empowerment. Well, it is a great and glorious truth: we are to follow in his steps (1 Pet 2:21ff) and have the same attitude in ourselves that was in Christ Jesus (Phil 2:5ff). This is only possible because the Spirit-indwelling and empowerment in us was the same that was in Jesus.

By the way, Sam Storms has also written about this recently (in the past month), and an excellent book on this subject is Gerald Hawthorne's The Presence and the Power."

There you have it--the words of a master theologian on a difficult but important topic. I hope that this information encourages you by helping you to realize the depth of access you have to the might of God, and that this realization fuels a life of courage, boldness, and humble dependence on the Spirit.

A Theology of Ambition: Biblical Considerations, Pt. 1

I'm going to give you several different texts to think about in relation to my topic. Today and tomorrow, we do a study of biblical material. After that, we synthesize the material.

1. Gen. 1:26-28 the call to take dominion
2. 1 Chron. 4:10 Jabez's bold prayer
3. 2 Chron. 1:7-13 Solomon's ambitious prayer for wisdom
4. Nehemiah an example of godly ambition
5. Matthew 28:18-20 the call to take spiritual dominion
6. 1 Cor. 10:31 life as an exercise in biblical ambition
7. Hebrews 4:16 the invitation to pray with boldness

These texts should not and must not be understood as the only texts that speak to my topic. They are not. However, these texts when taken together give us a bare framework by which to begin to understand the Bible's view of ambition. With that said, we proceed to look at what this framework is and what it means for us as Christians. We will work quickly through these texts, and you can think of more on your own (and suggest them in the comments, if you would).

The call to take dominion over the earth in Genesis 1 is fundamentally a call to theological ambition. Those who think that ambition has little place in the Christian life find an opposite ideal in this first chapter of the Bible. From the beginning, God intended man to subdue and rule over his environment. It is clear from the lack of instruction recorded in this text that God did not spell out all the details of this dominion-taking. Rather, he left it to Adam, His vice-regent, to figure out what needed to be done and to do it. Such action necessarily includes an aggressive mindset that seeks to glorify God through action pleasing to God. The race of men, then, was not created to be passive and weak, but to be active and strong, assessing their domain, ruling over their territory, glorifying God by virtuous, godly action.

It's silly to pass up all the examples of Old Testament believers who acted ambitiously for God's renown, but time and space is limited. So we skip ahead to the much-discussed Jabez. Now, let me say a word here. Bruce Wilkinson took the whole Jabez thing a bit far, if you ask me, but I still think he had a point (one made by men like Spurgeon well before prosperity theologians). His point was this: Jabez was spiritually ambitious. Wilkinson was no genius in understanding this, but he was right. Jabez prayed that the Lord would bless him. The Lord did bless him. Jabez had a desire to glorify God through a blessed life. God answered this desire. We could take this text and run, but we should not do so. Instead, we should simply make the point that God rewarded Jabez's spiritual ambition, and leave things there. Clearly, it is no terrible thing--far from that, it is a good thing--to be spiritually ambitious before the Lord.

The story of Solomon is the same. Solomon made an incredible request of God, that he be given incredible wisdom, and God gave it to him. God was not displeased with such a bold request. The biblical picture of God is not that which many of us hold in our minds, a miserly, angry, bitter father who despises giving out blessings. No, the biblical picture of God is that He often graciously rewards the seeker and gives them the righteous desires of their heart. Solomon's desire was righteous--this is a crucial point--and thus God granted his request. The Lord does seem to be like the great leader Alexander in a story I've heard Tim Keller tell. One of Alexander's generals made a very bold request of his lord, asking him to finance an extravagant wedding ceremony for his child. Upon hearing the request, Alexander's right-hand man urged Alexander to cruelly discipline such a boorish man. Alexander demurred, and instead granted the man's request. His reasoning? The man, by his massive request, showed that he thought Alexander to be a man of massive means. Thus his plea, so far from dishonoring Alexander, actually honored Alexander in the extreme. So it is with us when we ask God for great things. A right sense of ambition, one devoted to the Lord, shows just how great we think our God to be.

A Theology of Ambition

In some evangelical circles, piety is equated with passivity. The holiest person is the one who sits the stillest, waits the longest, and does the least. Somewhere along the way, godliness became equated with doing very little, with sitting on one's hands, with praying for hours while sitting for the same. This version of the Christian life leaves much to be desired.

Christians have always struggled with the tendency to pit prayer and meditation on Scripture against action. Those who do so always lose. If we emphasize prayer to the detriment of action, we overspiritualize life and become passive. If we emphasize action to the detriment of prayer, we live as practical atheists. Neither option is sound, and both will lead to a damaged way of life. Far better to couple prayer with action, to bathe action in prayer, and so to live in a combination of trust and dependence. Though this idea seems pretty basic, it has lost its place in certain Christian circles. I'm not sure of the exact origins of this tendency (and it is probably is old as the earth itself), but in terms of a codified way of Christian living, I would guess that its presence in much Christian thought traces back to pietism and its experientialist dimensions. There is of course much good in such strains of Christianity, but there can also be a tendency to misread the Bible along hermeneutical lines and to think that God speaks and communicates to Christians today just as He did in Old Testament times. The result of such thinking is that godly people fail to act until they receive an impression, a sign, a voice, a call that is from God Himself. Praying to God and living patiently is biblical, but it is my contention that our way of discovering and living out the will of God is quite different today than it was in Old Testament times. We have the Spirit, yes, but the preponderance of New Testament teaching (and much of the Old) teaches us to act in wisdom out of a backdrop of prayer, counsel, and courage.

As I noted above, Christians tend to break up into two camps. It is my opinion that there is an abundance of literature out there that teaches believers to depend on God and go often to Him in prayer, so I'm not focusing on that side of things in this brief series. Instead, I am targeting those who overspiritualize their lives and who end up living passively instead of actively. The specific casualty of such living that I want to target is the death of ambition that such a philosophy of life brings. Many Christians who fall in the "pray and don't act until absolutely certain" camp live without a strong sense of personal ambition and in fact tend to view those with ambition and vigor as ungodly and dangerous. As we will see, there is some truth to this concern. However, there is also falsehood, for the Bible itself commends a certain kind of godly ambition that involves praying to God, trusting God, and acting for His glory and the good of one's life, family, church and even society. In the coming days, we'll seek to construct a very basic theology of ambition in order to reclaim a sense of Christian agency that is inextricably related to the foundational command to Adam and Eve to take dominion of the earth. As we will see, it is well nigh impossible to take dominion of the earth, let alone one's finances, or marriage, or work, without some sense of ambition. A theology of ambition, then, allows us not to chase a spiritual goose through the Bible, but to understand in a fundamental way how it is we are to live as Christians on God's earth.

Just How Basic Is the Textual Theme of James?

These are serious time for your friendly neighborhood seminary students. We're in "reading week," and next week is finals week. I have just written my last seminary paper, and let me tell you, it feels incredible. Fellow seminarians, if you're wondering if finishing seminary really is all cracked up to be, consider this a news flash from me to you: it is. Riotous celebrating aside, here is an excerpt from my last seminary paper, an exegetical and theological look at the theme of James. My thesis is, to my knowledge, somewhat original, and I think that the paper is an interesting read. Email me at owendstrachan [at] yahoo.com if you want to read the whole thing.

"The book of James has long presented a battleground on which scholars have fought to determine what exactly the book means and whether James has a coherent message. Recent interpretation by scholars proves particularly interesting. Speaking generally, one finds that it breaks down into three schools: one group says that James has no message, another group emphasizes that James has a message, but that it is very basic and obedience-oriented, and a third argues that the letter deals with the rather focused theme of double-mindedness.

Though the first two schools have spoken loudly and have been received broadly, it is the purpose of this paper to argue that the book of James is written according to a clear, textured argument. James reveals that the community to whom he writes is filled with double-minded people who profess faith but fail to practice it consistently. His purpose in writing, then, is to expose this double-mindedness through numerous examples and illustrations and then to call for the salvation of these people, whose professed faith ultimately ends up being no faith at all.

This argument is based in the idea that James’s chief protagonist in this book is the dipsuchos, “double-minded man,” as introduced in 1:6-8. Of course, James is writing to this troubled soul even as he addresses the believing church body. He directly addresses the divided person but does so in the midst of a letter that is directed to true believers. James is thus seeking the salvation of some in the church who claim to possess a living faith but who in actuality possess a dead faith. The body of James’s letter includes the majority of this content, and his calls to salvation in 4:8 and especially 5:19-20 offer a fitting conclusion to the letter. Despite the fact that the body of the letter is less structured, and thus cannot be neatly grouped by theme, common themes of identity, action, and speech will emerge, revealing the double-minded man to be one who honestly thinks he is a Christian, but who in thought, word, and deed acts for himself and lives like the world, ultimately showing his profession to be just that: a mere profession, one that carries with it a sentence of eternal death."