Monday, January 28, 2008

Feasting on the Promise of a Future with Christ

2 Cor. 6.4-5
There is hardly a time when I’m more keenly aware of my sinful and selfish orientation than when my personal comfort and convenience are threatened or interrupted. When I miss a meal, I’m grumpy. When the air conditioner breaks, I’m irritable. When I’m in pain, I complain. It grieves me to see how often I act as if I deserved physical security and emotional peace and a full stomach. I’m stunned by how much time, energy, and money I devote to avoid what makes for turmoil and discomfort.

Now, I’m not at all suggesting that a person should actively seek those things that breed distress or anguish or deprivation. People who do are either masochistic or suffer from a perverted martyr complex. There’s nothing inherently good in pain. In fact, it is part of our calling as Christians to help alleviate the suffering and hardship of others. But in doing so, it may well require that we ourselves willingly embrace danger, the loss of freedom and property, as well as the disruption of our cherished routines and schedules.

No one knew this better than Paul, a man who personally suffered almost indescribable agony for the sake of Christ and the welfare of his people. It’s hard for me to read Paul’s description of his life and not see in it a standing rebuke and counter-argument to the health and wealth “gospel” of the 21st century. Today, sadly, we are often told that if you are among God’s “anointed” and “gifted” and “favored” servants you can expect (even claim) exemption from suffering, loss, and deprivation. You’re a “child of the King” and thus deserve “first class” treatment! This was similar to the argument of Paul’s opponents in Corinth, who insisted that a true “apostle” of Christ would never endure the things he did. It was precisely this alleged lack of so-called apostolic credentials that was used to undermine his authority and authenticity in that church.

Paul was evidently asked on numerous occasions to substantiate his claim to apostolic authority. Although he detested speaking of himself, the situation at Corinth required that he identify his qualifications. He does so on several occasions (see especially 11:16-33), one of the more explicit being here in 6:4-10. “Do you want me to commend myself for your approval,” he asked? “So be it. I’m happy to present myself to you as a minister of God, and on the following grounds”:

“by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything” (2 Cor. 6:4-10).

Our focus in this meditation is on vv. 4-5 in which we find three sets of three words that describe Paul’s outward circumstances, all of which, it should be noted, are in the plural, indicating multiple instances or occasions on which he suffered.

In the first set of three he mentions “afflictions, hardships, calamities”. “Afflictions” is a general and all-encompassing term appearing numerous times in 2 Corinthians, the most severe of which was the life-threatening experience described in 1:8-9. “Hardships” carries the thought of being under pressure, perhaps an allusion to the constant stress to which he was subjected. The word translated “calamities” literally means "in constraints" or in a confined and narrow place from which there can be no escape. It points to Paul's feeling of being trapped by circumstances seemingly beyond his control.

The second set of three points more to the direct and extremely physical persecution to which he was subjected. He often endured “beatings” (cf. 11:23-25), whether by rods, lashes, or fists. We know specifically of only one “imprisonment” (cf. 2 Cor. 11:23) before 2 Corinthians was written, which occurred in Philippi (Acts 16). This indicates that Luke’s history in Acts is obviously selective and does not purport to give us an exhaustive record of Paul’s missionary experiences.

The “riots” or uprisings against Paul in the cities where he preached are numerous: at Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13:50), Iconium (Acts 14:5), Lystra (Acts 14:19), Philippi (Acts 16:22), Thessalonica (Acts 17:5-7), Berea (Acts 17:13), Corinth (Acts 18:12-17), and Ephesus (Acts 19:23-20:1).

Finally, he endured “labors, sleepless nights, [and] hunger.” Unlike the first six words that describe what was done to him by others, these all refer to self-imposed hardships Paul embraced in the fulfillment of his ministry.

The word “labors” is either a reference to his work as a tent-maker (Acts 18:3), or could also refer to his extended and demanding seasons of work as a missionary, pastor and evangelist.

By “sleeplessness” he doesn’t mean that he suffered from insomnia, but that he voluntarily went without sleep to serve and minister to others (Paul often refers to working “night and day”; see 1 Thess. 2:9; 2 Thess. 3:8). Whether he lost sleep from working late hours to support himself, or because he was engaged in ministry late into the night, it was a choice he joyfully embraced.

Finally, he often suffered from “hunger”. There’s little agreement on any single cause for this. It certainly could be a reference to his frequent fasting. Others see a self-imposed asceticism designed to alleviate any burden from those to whom he ministered. Or it could simply be a reference to his lack of food due to the hardships of travel or even the lack of money.

As you know, I travel extensively throughout the U.S. and occasionally overseas, speaking at churches and conferences. Typically, either at some point while I’m away or immediately upon my return, my wife lovingly asks such questions as: “Did the ministry go well? Did they respond positively to what you had to say? Did you sleep well in the hotel? At what restaurants did you eat? Are you feeling o.k.?”

She’s never yet heard me say in reply: “They threw stones at me during my first sermon. One caught me square in the forehead. I felt my life was in jeopardy on a few occasions and I honestly didn’t know if I’d escape. Two leaders in the church beat me with rods and the local sheriff threw me in jail on the second night. I didn’t sleep a wink in that stinking cell and the food was so repulsive I couldn’t eat a thing. Other than that, the ministry was great!”

No one in the Christian west anticipates such treatment. If we ever encountered anything remotely similar to what Paul faced, we’d wipe the dust from our shoes and never return. Surely “ministers of God” (v. 4a) who are dedicated to the gospel ought to expect the best of everything. How dare anyone deprive us of our comforts!

So what would motivate a man to willingly pursue a life characterized by the sort of hardships Paul endured? What could possibly sustain a man through such sufferings?

One answer is found in Hebrews 10:32-34. There we read of Christians who “endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated” (vv. 32-33). Beyond this, they “joyfully accepted the plundering” of their “property” (v. 34)! Here’s why. Here’s how. They “knew” they “had a better possession and an abiding one” (v. 34).

The degree to which we find suffering intolerable is the degree to which we lack confidence in the glory of our inheritance in Christ. To the extent that we are embittered by oppression and persecution, we reveal our lack of satisfaction in him.

Paul was in the grip of the glory to come (cf. 2 Cor. 4:16-18), and found strength to endure. Like those believers in Hebrews 10, he feasted on the promise of a future with Christ and held fast.

- Sam Storms

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

When People see You, does God look Good?

2 Cor. 6:4
In case you skipped it, let me repeat the question in the title: “When People see You, does God look Good?” Not many of us phrase it in precisely that way or even think in those terms. It’s far more natural for us to ask, “When people see me, do I look good?” Do I impress them with my charisma? Are they captivated by my wit? Are they attracted by how I dress? Did they take note of my intelligence? Do they still think of me an hour or two later?

We are obsessed with what others think of us. We are elated when they find in us something to praise and are crushed when they are offended. That is why we are so given to self-commendation, self-promotion, and self-improvement. So often our very identity and thus our value hang suspended on the opinion of those who “see” us.

But wait a minute. If this sort of concern for self is so sinful, why did Paul “commend” himself to the Corinthians here in 2 Corinthians 6:4a? And doesn’t this conflict with his earlier denunciation of self-commendation in 3:1? It would appear from these two texts that there are at least two sorts of self-commendation, one good (6:4a) and the other bad (3:1).

Let’s take a closer look at this passage (6:4a), for Paul does not “commend” himself and leave it at that, as if his efforts were devoted to securing a positive response from the Corinthian church. It is as “servants of God”, or more accurately, “ministers” of God, that he and his co-workers labor to elicit their approval. And the criteria to which he appeals as grounds for their acceptance are not very appealing: afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, hunger, slander, sorrow, etc. Not the sort of things one would typically include on a resume!

Evidently Paul believed that commending oneself as a minister of God was not only permissible, but mandatory, even godly. How so? What does it mean to draw attention to oneself as a minister of God and how does it avoid the sinful self-serving that Paul and other biblical writers so consistently condemn?

I want to suggest that commending oneself as a minister of God consists of living and acting and speaking in such a way that others think not of you but of him. They don’t so much look to you as through you, and in the light of your life see him. Again, to use the words of the title above, it means conducting yourself in such a manner that when others see you, God looks good! Let me explain this by asking a series of pointed (and painful) questions.

When you pray, do people comment on your eloquence or God’s excellency?

When you intercede in a corporate gathering, are those present impressed with your godliness or God’s goodness?

On those occasions when your life is subject to public scrutiny, do people think of the heights of your abundance or the depths of your need? Are they inclined to think about your devotion, and how fortunate God is to have you as his “minister”, or are they awakened to your utter dependency and God’s endless supply?

When people see how I spend money, do they conclude that God is a priceless treasure, exceedingly valuable above all worldly goods?

When people observe my relationship with others, are they alerted to the power of Christ’s forgiveness of me that alone accounts for my forgiveness of them?

When we open our mouths and speak of others in public (or private), are they made to think of Jesus in whose mouth no “deceit” was found (1 Peter 2:22), the one who, when reviled, “did not revile in return” (1 Peter 2:23)?

When we respond to injustice or mistreatment, are our words and ways the sort that lead them to glorify the God-man who “did not threaten” those who abused him “but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23)?

When I am seen interacting with people of another race, do observers instinctively fix their thoughts on God’s love for all without regard to color of skin or ethnic heritage?

If I am complimented for some accomplishment, does the way I receive it drive onlookers to give thanks to the Lord?

Do I preach the Word in such a way that eyes are riveted on me or turned upward to behold the beauty of Christ?

Is my use of leisure time or devotion to a hobby or how I speak of my wife the sort that persuades others that my heart is content with what God is for me in Christ?

Does my reaction to bad news produce in you doubt or fear, or does it inspire confidence to trust in God’s providence?

When I feel disappointment or experience a shattered dream, is your trust in his promises diminished or enhanced?

Does my reaction to suffering inspire your comfort in him?

To use Paul’s word, when I “minister” among you, are you captivated by my credentials or energized to find satisfaction in God’s merciful sufficiency?

Paul couldn’t have cared less about his own reputation, unless by seeing him they savored God. If his weakness magnified God’s power, then by all means, watch. So long as his life was a window through which others might behold the goodness and grace of Christ, he was more than happy to commend himself to their scrutiny.

“Don’t look at or to me,” said Paul, “but through me, as a minister of God, to the fountain of all goodness and grace.”

So again, when others see you, does God look good?

- Sam Storms

Friday, January 18, 2008

The Most Eloquent Advertisement for the Gospel

2 Cor. 6.3
Senator Charles Grassley of Iowa, the ranking Republican on the Senate Finance Committee, recently made news by announcing his intention to investigate several prominent Christian ministries to determine whether or not they have exploited their tax-exempt status as churches to provide themselves with opulent and lavish lifestyles. Those who’ve been asked by the Senator to submit financial records include Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland, Creflo Dollar, Joyce Meyer, Eddie Long, and Paula White.

Without intending to pass premature judgment on these individuals, Senator Grassley’s action is indicative of a belief that exists among most people, both Christian and non-Christian, that the conduct of a “minister” ought to be consistent with the content of his/her “message”. Grassley evidently shares the opinion of many who believe that the church and its ministry are discredited by the disreputable behavior of those who are its leaders and members. Conversely, the message can be enhanced and adorned by the godliness, humility, and self-sacrifice of those who proclaim the gospel of Christ crucified.

Whether or not these six are living in a way that undermines the message or in some way brings reproach on the name of Christ is for each person to decide. But the fact remains that how we as Christians conduct ourselves in the sight of others has massive repercussions on their assessment of the gospel we preach.

No one knew this better than the apostle Paul. In fact, most of 2 Corinthians is concerned with his conduct as a gospel minister and whether or not it condemns or commends him as a genuine apostle of Jesus Christ. 2 Corinthians 6:3-10 is perhaps the most explicit example of this in the entire book. We will spend several meditations unpacking its rich and instructive content. Here is what Paul said:

“We put no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything” (2 Cor. 6:3-10).

My concern in this meditation is solely with v. 3, where Paul writes, “We put no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry.”

Although the ESV translates the verb simply as “we put”, the present tense of the Greek should probably be rendered something along the lines of “we are trying to put no obstacle in anyone’s way” with the emphasis on Paul’s customary and repeated modus operandi. This is the consistent and committed posture of his labors as an apostle. There simply are no circumstances under which Paul would act any other way. There is never, ever an excuse for speaking or “ministering” in such a fashion that “fault” may be found with the good news of eternal life in Jesus Christ.

Paul's preeminent concern is with the “ministry” God has entrusted to him, not his own reputation or position or influence. The only self-commendation he cares for is as a “servant/minister” of God. He is more than willing to be slandered and ridiculed, beaten and imprisoned, just so long as the glorious good news of Christ crucified suffers no reproach.

The word translated to find “fault” (ESV) or be “discredited” (NASB) is a verb related to the noun momus, a name given to the Greek god of ridicule or mockery. Paul wants nothing in his life to be used by others as an excuse for laughing at the truth. If offense is to be taken at the gospel, let it be because of the content of what he proclaims and not any misconduct in his own life.

The “obstacle” or cause for offense is any questionable action or self-serving speech that would prompt people to doubt Paul’s integrity or sincerity and thereby bring the gospel he proclaimed into disrepute or cause it to be ridiculed or censured. In the immediate context, in relation to the Corinthians, Paul might have in mind anything on his part that would hinder their acceptance of him or their fellowship with one another or their commitment to proclaim and advance the message of the gospel.

Of course, there is no guarantee that in conducting himself properly and in purity that Paul (or we) will avoid the condemnation of others. “He is thinking of unnecessary offense and unjustified censure” (Harris, 469; emphasis mine). The notion that eternal life is available only by faith in a crucified and risen messiah is inherently foolish “to those who are perishing” (1 Cor. 1:18). The Jews in Paul’s day found it to be a “stumbling block” (1 Cor. 1:23a) and the Gentiles mocked it as “folly” (1 Cor. 1:23b). But where Paul was able to avoid putting an obstacle in anyone’s path, “he professed to be scrupulously careful” (Harris, 469).

To illustrate Paul’s point, consider this hypothetical conversation between a Christian (“Steve”) and his unbelieving co-worker (“Mike”).

Steve: “Mike, did you have an opportunity to read that book I gave you about Christianity?”

Mike: “Yes, and I have to be honest in saying that I was offended by much of what it said. I don’t particularly like being told I’m morally depraved and a sinner! That’s not the sort of language that ‘wins friends and influences people’! It’s a ‘PC world’, Steve, and people don’t want to hear it.”

Steve: “You’re right. They don’t. But what they want isn’t of paramount importance. What they need is the truth, even if it hurts or causes offense. By the way, what was your impression of what the author said about Jesus Christ?”

Mike: “Honestly, I found it a bit ridiculous. That there is only one God who became a human being named Jesus is one thing. But to tell me that he lived a perfect life, died on a cross where he suffered for the sins of people like me, and then came back to life again; well, I felt like I was back in my college course on Greek mythology! Worst of all, though, is the argument that I need to ‘repent’ of my sins and put my faith in this Jesus as my only hope for reconciliation with God. How absurd! How arrogant of you people!”

Steve: “I understand your reaction, Mike. Really, I do. But I want you to know that I’m praying for you, asking that the Spirit of God will give you eyes to see the beauty in what you now find ugly as well as a new spiritual taste for what you now find bitter. But let me ask you one more thing. Have I behaved in an offensive way? Do you see in me any hypocrisy or insincerity or do my words or actions come across as incompatible with what you know about Christianity? If so, I need to change.”

Mike: “No, my beef isn’t with you. Your life is remarkably consistent with your message. I wish I could say that of everyone I’ve known who called themselves Christians. But I can’t.”

Steve: “I appreciate that, Mike. But you should know that if there’s anything ‘good’ in me it’s all because of the grace of God.”

Mike: “See, that’s just what I mean. I compliment you and you’re so darn humble! That’s a rare thing these days. In fact, if there’s anything that makes me want to read the book again and at least think about the claims of Christ, it’s the way you’re so unashamed about your faith and your love for God. You seem so content and I’ve never heard you make a sexual comment about the girls in the office. Yeah, maybe I’ll read it again and we can get together and talk about it.”

Although not apostles, you and I are “servants of God” and have a “ministry” no less so than Paul. What “obstacles” do we put in the way of others seeing the glory of God revealed in the face of Jesus Christ? Do they find “fault” with your life? Or are they, like Mike, curious about why you turn from immorality and delight in marital fidelity? Are they intrigued by your passion for the beauty of God and your disdain for the tawdry and unseemly trivialities of this world?

When they speak of you behind your back, do they marvel at your contentment or mock you for joining others in fudging on your time sheet? Is it obvious, in the way you talk and work and live, that your happiness is rooted in a transcendent power that cannot be explained in mere earthly terms? To live in such a way that God looks good is costly. Treasuring him above all may not comport well with the ambitious and materialistic ethos of our day. But it pays a rich and eternal reward.

Let us never forget that the gospel itself is more than sufficient to offend self-centered and arrogant sinners. May it never be that we aggravate this effect with our boorish and self-aggrandizing behavior. “It is always true,” writes Murray Harris, “that the life of the Christian is the most eloquent advertisement for the gospel” (469).

- Sam Storms

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Could Jesus have Sinned?

2 Cor. 5.21
I “know” sin. I say this not because I can define sin, although I can. I say this not because I can identify sin when I see it, although I can also do that. I say it because I am a sinner. I “know” sin because I commit it, sadly, on a daily basis. My acquaintance with sin, therefore, does not come from associating with others who transgress or from reading a book on Hamartiology (the technical, theological term for the study of Sin). I “know” sin, as I said, because I, like David, was “brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me” (Psalm 51:5). I “know” sin because I sin.

Jesus, on the other hand, “knew no sin” (2 Corinthians 5:21). Again, the apostle Paul doesn’t mean by this that Jesus was unaware of the existence of sin or that he lived in isolation from those who commit sin. He was not intellectually ignorant of sin or unacquainted with its devastating consequences. He “knew no sin” in the sense that he never personally committed one. He was sinless.

How often do we pause and give thanks for the sinlessness of Christ? Were he not sinless, the entire scheme of reconciliation that Paul outlines in 2 Corinthians 5:18-21 would fall flat on its face. The glorious and gracious work of God in reconciling the world to himself hinges on God “not counting” our trespasses against us because he has counted our trespasses against Christ. But this would be to no avail if Christ himself had committed trespasses which ought to have been “counted” against him. The reckoning or imputing of our guilt to Jesus, for which he then suffers the wrath of God in our stead, is only redemptive if he is himself personally guilt free.

The New Testament is crystal clear on this point. Although 2 Corinthians 5:21 is the only explicit affirmation of Christ’s sinlessness in Paul’s writings, we should also take note of his reference to the “obedience” of the Son in both Romans 5:19 and Philippians 2:8.

Jesus gave the religious leaders of his day every opportunity to identify some sin in his life. “Which one of you convicts me of sin?” he asked them in public (John 8:46a). The author of Hebrews reminds us that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Jesus, he later tells us, was “holy, innocent, [and] unstained” (Heb. 7:26). He was “a lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Peter 1:19) and “committed no sin” (1 Peter 2:22).

That he didn’t sin is a settled and undeniable fact. But could he have sinned? Was it in any way a possibility for him to have sinned or was it in every way impossible that he should ever have transgressed? Or, to use theological terms, was Jesus impeccable (incapable of sinning), or peccable (capable of sinning, although remaining sinless)?

I intentionally avoid technical theological language in these meditations, but bear with me for a moment as I appeal to four Latin phrases that shed light on this issue. The first is non posse non peccare, which means "not able not to sin". This describes unregenerate people and the fallen angels (i.e., demons). In other words, they necessarily sin.

Two other phrases are posse peccare (“able to sin”) and posse non peccare ("able not to sin"). These describe Adam before the fall, regenerate people, and Jesus, if one denies his impeccability. Finally, there is non posse peccare, or "not able to sin". This would be true of God, the saints in heaven, and Jesus, if one affirms his impeccability.

My question is this: Was Jesus Christ sinless because he could not sin (non posse peccare) or because he would not sin? Was he constitutionally incapable of sinning or merely volitionally unwilling to sin? To say that Jesus could have sinned, even though he did not, is to say he was peccable. To say that Jesus could not have sinned, and therefore didn’t, is to say he was impeccable.

The most helpful concrete illustration of this issue is the confrontation Jesus had with Satan in the wilderness (cf. Luke 4:1-13). When Satan came to him with those three temptations, could Jesus have succumbed? We know he didn’t, and we are eternally grateful. But was it possible for him not to have resisted? Those who affirm impeccability respond with a definitive “No”! Those who deny impeccability counter with three observations, only two of which, in my opinion, are helpful.

First, those who deny impeccability argue that if he could not sin, he was not truly human. After all, “to err is human.” This argument is weak, for it is not necessary to human nature that one be capable of sinning. When finally in heaven, having been glorified, the saints will be incapable of sinning, but they will not for that reason be less human then than they are now on earth.

A second argument often heard is that if Jesus could not have sinned, he was not genuinely tempted. True temptation requires the possibility of sinning. That he refused to yield to Satan’s temptations no one denies. But yielding must have been possible or the encounter was a sham.

Some respond by saying that perhaps Jesus didn’t know he was impeccable. In other words, even though he couldn’t yield to temptation, he was unaware of the impossibility. Therefore, at least so far as his own conscious experience is concerned, the temptation would have been quite genuine. But I find it hard to believe that Jesus lacked such self-awareness. Even if he did, we don’t, so what benefit is there to us in his having resisted the Devil’s overtures? In other words, we find encouragement in Jesus’ example only if we know he could have sinned, but didn’t (1 Peter 2:21-23). So long as we know that his sinning was absolutely impossible, the force of his example is undermined, regardless of what he may have known.

A third and final argument by those who deny impeccability is that the doctrine is based on the belief that Jesus resisted the devil from the strength of his divine nature. Satan was tempting God and God, by definition, cannot sin. Regardless of the strength of his seductive appeals, Satan didn’t stand a chance. After all, the finite cannot conquer the infinite. The presence within the incarnate Second Person of the Godhead of a holy and omnipotent divine nature made it impossible for him to have yielded to Satan’s overtures.

For many years I strongly advocated the impeccability of Christ, insisting that because he was God incarnate he was incapable of sinning. Now, make no mistake, he was and forever is God incarnate. But I’m not so sure about his impeccability, and here’s why.

As I have argued extensively elsewhere, I believe Jesus lived and ministered as a human, dependent on the power of the Holy Spirit. As a human, the possibility existed that he could have sinned, but by virtue of his unceasing reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit he did not sin. Like the first Adam, Jesus could have sinned. But as the second Adam, he chose not to.

This means that in becoming a man “the Son of God willed to renounce the exercise of his divine powers, attributes, prerogatives, so that he might live fully within those limitations which inhere in being truly human” (Hawthorne, The Presence and the Power, 208). That which he had (all the divine attributes), by virtue of what he was (the second person of the Trinity), he willingly chose not to use. Thus we see a human being doing super-human things and ask “How?” The answer is: Not from the power of his own divine nature, but through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Thus the Son chose to experience the world through the limitations imposed by human consciousness and an authentic human nature. The attributes of omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience were not lost or laid aside, but became latent and potential within the confines of his human nature. They are “present in Jesus in all their fullness, but no longer in exercise” (Hawthorne, 208). The incarnation thus means that Jesus “actually thought and acted, viewed the world, and experienced time and space events strictly within the confines of a normally developing human person” (210).

Look again at the various accounts of Jesus’ temptation by Satan. We are told that he was not only led into the wilderness by the Spirit (Mt. 4:1) but was also being led by the Spirit in the wilderness during the entire course of the forty days (Luke 4:1; it was, no doubt, the Spirit who led Jesus to fast). “If he was being tempted by Satan for forty days (Mark 1:13), he was being led by the Spirit for those same forty days (Luke 4:1). It is impossible to escape the conclusion that these Gospel writers want their readers to understand that Jesus met and conquered the usurping enemy of God not by his own power alone but was aided in his victory by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Hawthorne, 139). He was fortified and energized by the continual infusion of divine power from the Spirit of God (see also John 3:34).

If someone should ask, “But why or how did the human Jesus always choose to rely on the power of the Spirit and thereby not sin?” The answer would be that the Spirit was always antecedent to any choice that Jesus was to make, enabling and energizing him to continue in his conscious reliance on the power the Spirit was providing. Is that not also the case with us? To whatever degree and however frequently we choose not to sin, it is because the Spirit antecedently empowered us to choose to avail ourselves of his presence and supply.

It could conceivably be said, therefore, that Jesus was peccable when it came to the metaphysical potential for sin in his own human nature (in other words, there was nothing inherent within the person of Christ that made it impossible for him to sin, any more than it was so in the case of Adam), but impeccable insofar as it was impossible for the Spirit to fail to energize Jesus’ will to depend upon the power that the Spirit supplied.

The implications of this for you and me are profound, and I defer, in conclusion, to the words of Hawthorne to make the point:

“Not only is Jesus their [our] Savior because of who he was and because of his own complete obedience to the Father’s will (cf. Heb. 10:5-7), but he is the supreme example for them of what is possible in a human life because of his own total dependence upon the Spirit of God. Jesus is living proof of how those who are his followers may exceed the limitations of their humanness in order that they, like him, might carry to completion against all odds their God-given mission in life – by the Holy Spirit. Jesus demonstrated clearly that God’s intended way for human beings to live, the ideal way to live, the supremely successful way to live, is in conjunction with God, in harmony with God, in touch with the power of God, and not apart from God, not independent of God, not without God. The Spirit was the presence and power of God in Jesus, and fully so”.

- Sam Storms

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

When God Saves Sinners from God

2 Cor. 5.18-21
If asked for a concise, biblical definition of the gospel, indeed, a definition of Christianity itself, one could hardly be faulted for pointing to the following paragraph in 2 Corinthians 5.

“All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:18-21).

One could (and probably should) spend weeks in this text. It is a rich and wide-ranging treasure house of theological truth. But the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that the brief comments of James Denney will suffice. After reading them, I strongly suspect you’ll agree. So, I ask that you do more than merely read his words (please, for your own sake, don’t skip over them). Meditate on the profound implications of what he says. I’ll interject a few relevant comments along the way.

Denney begins with a question, the answer to which is foundational to understanding the core of Christianity:

What is it that makes a Gospel necessary? What is it that the wisdom and love of God undertake to deal with, and do deal with, in that marvelous way which constitutes the Gospel? Is it man's distrust of God? Is it man's dislike, fear, antipathy, spiritual alienation? Not if we accept the Apostle's teaching. The serious thing which makes the Gospel necessary, and the putting away of which constitutes the Gospel, is God's condemnation of the world and its sin; it is God's wrath, 'revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men' (Rom. 1:16-18). The putting away of this is 'reconciliation'; the preaching of this reconciliation is the preaching of the Gospel.”

Here Denney touches on something rarely considered by most Christians. Let me put it in slightly different terms. From what is it that we need to be saved? Certainly not “from ourselves” (although one often hears such language, even in the church). Most Christians would say: from hell. In a sense, they are correct. But why is hell a threat, and what is it that accounts for the existence of hell and the experience of those who end up there?

The answer, as Denney points out, is divine wrath. Our only hope is for God to save us from God! This is the great glory of the gospel, that God in his grace takes action in Christ to save us from God in his wrath. God is not pitted against himself in this marvelous act of mercy, for God honors God when his love makes provision to satisfy the demands of his wrath.

Divine justice and its expression in divine wrath against sin, to use Paul’s words, calls for the reckoning or “counting” of our trespasses “against” us (2 Cor. 5:19). So how is it that, instead, I am forgiven the guilt of these wicked deeds? The answer of the apostle, in v. 21, is that God “made him [Jesus] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Don’t ever think that the love of God means that the wrath of God was ignored. Because God is just and righteous, there must be a reckoning or “counting” of trespasses. But because God is loving and gracious, the “counting” or “imputing” and the punishment it entailed fell on Christ.

I’ve often said to people that the reason why the psalmist declares that God “does not deal with us according to our sins” (Ps. 103:10) is because God dealt with Jesus according to our sins! Grace and mercy do not mean that sin is not dealt with, as if to suggest God merely swept our sins under the carpet of his compassion and ignored the horrid offense of our rebellion. Far from it! God the Father “counted” our trespasses against God the Son and in doing so brought about the reconciliation.

This “counting” or “reckoning” of our sins against him is what he means in v. 21 when he speaks of Jesus being “made to be sin” on our behalf. Paul is talking about the liability to suffer the penal consequences of the law. Our guilt, incurred because of our trespasses, has been imputed to him so that we, through faith in his sufferings on our behalf, might have his righteousness imputed to us!

We must not overlook the fact that all this was achieved by him who “knew no sin”. That as God he is without sin goes without saying, “but what is of vital importance for us and our reconciliation is that as Man, that is, in His incarnate state, Christ knew no sin, for only on that ground was He qualified to effect an atonement as Man for man" (Philip Hughes, 212).

Now, back to Denney:

“When St. Paul says that God has given him the ministry of reconciliation, he means that he is a preacher of this peace. He ministers reconciliation to the world. . . . It is not the main part of his vocation to tell men to make their peace with God, but to tell them that God has made peace with the world. At bottom, the Gospel is not good advice, but good news. All the good advice it gives is summed up in this – Receive the good news. But if the good news be taken away; if we cannot say, God has made peace, God has dealt seriously with His condemnation of sin, so that it no longer stands in the way of your return to Him; if we cannot say, Here is the reconciliation, receive it, -- then for man's actual state we have no Gospel at all.

When Christ's work was done, the reconciliation of the world was accomplished. When men were called to receive it, they were called to a relation to God, not in which they would no more be against Him – though that is included – but in which they would no more have Him against them. There would be no condemnation thenceforth to those who were in Christ Jesus" (James Denney).

Becoming the “righteousness of God” (v. 21) is not simply a tall order, but an impossible one. Yet, there he says it: in Christ Jesus we have “become the righteousness of God”!

As inconceivable as it may seem, from a human point of view, "such we are in the sight of God the Father as is the very Son of God himself. Let it be counted folly or frenzy or fury or whatever. It is our wisdom and our comfort; we care for no knowledge in the world but this: that man hath sinned and God hath suffered; that God hath made himself the sin of men, and that men are made the righteousness of God” (Thomas Hooker).

What a glorious gospel indeed!

- Sam Storms

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Man's Glory vs. God's Glory

"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows forth His handiwork. Day to day they utter speech and night after night they show forth knowledge."- Ps. 19: 1-2

During the last quarter of 2007, I was preaching in an eastern state in the U. S one weekend. On that Saturday evening, I was invited to dinner in a home up in the mountains. I enjoyed a special meal with some godly believers that evening and true fellowship for 3 hours together. On the spiritual level, the time together was truly Christ-centered and truly edifying.

On the human level, there were two things that stood out. The meal together was simply outstanding in every way. You could not have purchased in an expensive restaurant a meal that could have exceeded it.

Secondly, the house itself had cost six million dollars to build. I had not been in one ever that could compare to it. Needless to say, it was quite amazing and somewhat out of my league. The beauty, the architecture, and the furnishings were as impressive as anything I had seen in any human building. I went away from the evening struck with feelings concerning what man can accomplish. The house had a glory all its own. But I also went away from the evening with my heart free and centered on Christ, His presence and His grace. And for that, I felt grateful.

Then on Sunday afternoon, after preaching, I drove out of those mountains, headed south for 3 hours to the airport. As I drove through amazing beauty with blazing sunshine, blue skies, and awe-inspiring scenery all around, it was as if God began to say to my heart, "Yesterday, you saw what man can do-- now I will remind you what I have done!"

The secenery was breath-taking; God's fingerprints and handiwork were everywhere; God was speaking and it was very loud! "You've seen man's glory this weekend- now see Mine!" So as I listened to hymns, sang to Him, prayed, and worshipped the Saviour, the reality and wonder of what God has done and can do bacame fresh again to my heart because I was seeing His glory in the earth that afternoon.

I boarded a flight for home around 5:00 pm that afternoon, flying west toward Dallas. Sitting by the window on the right side of the plane, about half way home, I began to notice the curvature of the earth in the west, with the sunset setting the entire horizon ablaze with deep red tones; I had not seen a sunset like it from the air in a long time; the entire western horizon was like it was all on fire; no sight or scene on earth could have compared to it.

My heart went up to the One who had created it all and was holding it all together right then by the very word of His power. Twenty hours earlier, I had seen man's glory; now as I sat looking out the plane's window, I was beholding the very glory of God from 37,000 feet, a display that words could never adequately express nor could the human mind take in.

But His big show wasn't over yet. As the evening darkness set in approximately an hour before arriving in Dallas, I look out my window and saw a bright light reflecting off the plane's wing. Looking up, I was seeing the brightest blazing white full moon that I could ever remember. It wasn't yellow or mild, but brillantly white. Perhaps it seemed brighter because I was almost 40,000 feet higher than normal. But its brightness and whiteness was almost surreal. It was more glorious than I had ever seen the moon.

As I sat there, the Father's presence filled my mind and heart, and was powerfully around me, clearly saying to me, "You saw yesterday what man can do-- today you have seen what I have done and continue to do! And I made it for Me and for you."

Suddenly, the house I had seen the day before honestly seemed like a few match sticks; it had faded from my view and I was no longer impressed; for I had seen the building skills and the handiwork of an eternal and heavenly Being who daily reveals a glory than man can never touch or comprehend!

I came away from the time with a new question in my heart-- Which affects and impresses me the most- what man can do or what God can do? What a contrast- man's glory vs. God's glory; when one really sees it, there is no comparison!

- Mack T.

Man's Glory vs. God's Glory

"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows forth His handiwork. Day to day they utter speech and night after night they show forth knowledge."- Ps. 19: 1-2

During the last quarter of 2007, I was preaching in an eastern state in the U. S one weekend. On that Saturday evening, I was invited to dinner in a home up in the mountains. I enjoyed a special meal with some godly believers that evening and true fellowship for 3 hours together. On the spiritual level, the time together was truly Christ-centered and truly edifying.

On the human level, there were two things that stood out. The meal together was simply outstanding in every way. You could not have purchased in an expensive restaurant a meal that could have exceeded it.

Secondly, the house itself had cost six million dollars to build. I had not been in one ever that could compare to it. Needless to say, it was quite amazing and somewhat out of my league. The beauty, the architecture, and the furnishings were as impressive as anything I had seen in any human building. I went away from the evening struck with feelings concerning what man can accomplish. The house had a glory all its own. But I also went away from the evening with my heart free and centered on Christ, His presence and His grace. And for that, I felt grateful.

Then on Sunday afternoon, after preaching, I drove out of those mountains, headed south for 3 hours to the airport. As I drove through amazing beauty with blazing sunshine, blue skies, and awe-inspiring scenery all around, it was as if God began to say to my heart, "Yesterday, you saw what man can do-- now I will remind you what I have done!"

The secenery was breath-taking; God's fingerprints and handiwork were everywhere; God was speaking and it was very loud! "You've seen man's glory this weekend- now see Mine!" So as I listened to hymns, sang to Him, prayed, and worshipped the Saviour, the reality and wonder of what God has done and can do bacame fresh again to my heart because I was seeing His glory in the earth that afternoon.

I boarded a flight for home around 5:00 pm that afternoon, flying west toward Dallas. Sitting by the window on the right side of the plane, about half way home, I began to notice the curvature of the earth in the west, with the sunset setting the entire horizon ablaze with deep red tones; I had not seen a sunset like it from the air in a long time; the entire western horizon was like it was all on fire; no sight or scene on earth could have compared to it.

My heart went up to the One who had created it all and was holding it all together right then by the very word of His power. Twenty hours earlier, I had seen man's glory; now as I sat looking out the plane's window, I was beholding the very glory of God from 37,000 feet, a display that words could never adequately express nor could the human mind take in.

But His big show wasn't over yet. As the evening darkness set in approximately an hour before arriving in Dallas, I look out my window and saw a bright light reflecting off the plane's wing. Looking up, I was seeing the brightest blazing white full moon that I could ever remember. It wasn't yellow or mild, but brillantly white. Perhaps it seemed brighter because I was almost 40,000 feet higher than normal. But its brightness and whiteness was almost surreal. It was more glorious than I had ever seen the moon.

As I sat there, the Father's presence filled my mind and heart, and was powerfully around me, clearly saying to me, "You saw yesterday what man can do-- today you have seen what I have done and continue to do! And I made it for Me and for you."

Suddenly, the house I had seen the day before honestly seemed like a few match sticks; it had faded from my view and I was no longer impressed; for I had seen the building skills and the handiwork of an eternal and heavenly Being who daily reveals a glory than man can never touch or comprehend!

I came away from the time with a new question in my heart-- Which affects and impresses me the most- what man can do or what God can do? What a contrast- man's glory vs. God's glory; when one really sees it, there is no comparison!

- Mack T.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Behold! A New Creation!

2 Cor. 5.17
Few things are more frustrating than the gradual erosion of meaning in Christian language. For example, I often wonder if the people who applaud the hymn Amazing Grace have any idea of what they are singing. Do they know what it means, biblically speaking, to be a “lost” “wretch” in need of “salvation”? Sadly, the notion of divine “grace” that redeems from sin and delivers from eternal wrath, apart from human works, has been domesticated, secularized, and emptied of its theological significance.

Much the same is true of being “born-again”. Those who claim to have experienced the “new birth” often equate it with the regret they feel for their most recent DUI or arrest for drug possession. When faced with public reproach and possible jail time, professional athletes and morally retarded pop-culture icons find it useful to affirm they’ve “found God” through some ill-defined “new birth” religious encounter.

How far and away different that is from the imagery employed by Paul in 2 Corinthians 5:17 –

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

Although he doesn’t use the terminology of being “born again”, he surely has in view the same concept as Jesus (John 3:3-8) and Peter (1 Peter 1:23) and John (1 John 2:29; 3:9; 5:1) when he speaks of a “new creation” for those who are “in Christ” (2 Cor. 5:17).

There is a strong likelihood that Paul's language here of a "new creation" is also an allusion to the "new heaven and new earth" of Revelation 21-22. If so, his point would be that our experience of the new birth is a personal prelude to the corporate and cosmic dimensions of the new creation that will come when Christ does. Simply put, the glory of the age to come has impinged upon or broken into the present. We are re-born microcosms of the eschatological macrocosm!

That being said, we can’t escape the individual and personal focus that Paul has in view in this text, as seen in his emphasis on “anyone” who is “in Christ” being a new creation. Earlier in 2 Corinthians 4:6 Paul portrayed the conversion experience as a creative act of God comparable to the original creation of light out of darkness. Here he returns to that theme with added emphasis on the transformed nature and newness of the person who is the object of his saving action.

This “new creation” or "new birth" or “regeneration” (cf. Titus 3:5) or being "born again" does not mean merely the mending of one's ways, the changing of bad habits, or embracing a new list of do's and don'ts. It refers to a radical, pervasive spiritual re-creation of the inner being.

No wonder Paul calls for our undivided attentiveness to this glorious truth with the declarative: “Behold!” Be stunned, be very stunned! That you are an utterly new creation, the spiritual product of the gracious and life-giving power of God, is a breathtaking reality. Behold! Stop and consider this remarkable and triumphant truth. Don’t pass it by with only a casual glance. Give it the focus it is due. Behold!

Could it be that many Christians struggle and languish because they fail to grasp the far reaching and spiritually radical implications of being a “new creation”? Could it be that some of you live unnecessarily enslaved to “old things” because the truth of v. 17 has never been given the weight it ought to bear? That’s right, unnecessarily enslaved. You need not live in bondage to “old things”, be they stubborn habits or deceptive values or destructive relationships or wrong-headed beliefs. The God who was kind enough and strong enough to create you anew is equally committed to supplying you with the resources and energy to live consistently with what you are. You are now “in Christ”! You are now “a new creation”!

What are the “old things” that hold you back and keep you down? Are you still beholden to false beliefs about your personal identity? Have you failed to realize that you are a child of God, not of Satan, and are adopted into his family, destined to reign with Christ as a co-heir in the kingdom of heaven? Have you failed to realize that you are reckoned as righteous in God’s sight, fully and forever forgiven of all your sins, sealed and filled with the Spirit of promise and power?

The “old” things have passed away. So stop living as if they had any claim on your life. “New things” have come: a new covenant (Luke 22:20; Heb. 8:8), a new creation (Gal. 6:15), a new humanity (Eph. 2:15), a new name (Rev. 2:17; 3:12), a new city (Rev. 3:12; 21:2), as well as a new standing, a new power, a new hope, and a new destiny. Resist the temptation to reduce being born again to a momentary existential crisis or a convenient religious enlightenment, neither of which yields the fruit of the Holy Spirit and a passionate pursuit of Jesus Christ and his glory in all things. Behold! If you are truly in Christ you are a new creation. Behold!

There is no escaping the fact that Paul has in view a complete and pervasive restructuring of your life, your values, and your agenda for the future, as well as your identity as a redeemed image-bearer. The conditions, relationships, worldly perspectives, and carnal principles that once dominated your life are the “old things” that have “passed away.” All thinking and willing and feeling and judging are now governed by a new and undying power.

Don’t embrace the pernicious lie that life will never change or that sinful circumstances will always dominate your existence. The enemy would have you believe that spiritual growth is an elusive dream and the future is a dark and endless repetition of past failures. To that, Paul would say to you in no uncertain terms, “Behold! If you are in Christ you are a new creation!”

I’m not advocating a “power of positive thinking” approach to life, as if by merely willing yourself to believe the best that all of life will automatically change. Don’t mistake my exhortation for the gushing, semi-religious, feel-good nonsense that certain (here to remain unnamed) preachers deliver monotonously each week to millions of gullible viewers. I’m speaking about the grace-grounded, blood-bought power of a new life in Christ that enables you to embrace with joy the forgiveness of sins and to welcome with a cross-centered confidence the trials and sufferings that will inevitably come your way.

Countless internet commercials, roadside billboards, radio advertisements and more than a few deceptive TV evangelists compete for your attention every moment of the day, promising you an enticing but ultimately false future (for a small fee, of course, or a “seed-faith” donation to the “ministry”) that will supposedly enable you to escape the rut of your past and present.

Don’t believe them! There is only one voice and one glorious truth worthy of your faith. “Behold! Take note of this one, marvelous truth! If you are in Christ, you are a new creation. The old, by the mercy of Christ, has passed away. The new, because of the cross of Christ, has come!”

- Sam Storms

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Seeing Others Spiritually

2 Cor. 5.16
What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think about the death and resurrection of Christ? I suspect that most would point to such truths as the forgiveness of sins, or the fact that in his death the wrath of God was satisfied, or that we are redeemed and Satan is defeated and heaven is secured. Surely, all these and countless other truths are the consequence of what Christ accomplished on our behalf.

But what are the implications of his atoning work for how we relate to other people? What are the horizontal effects of what he achieved at Calvary? Does the cross have any meaningful influence on how we think of others and how we relate to them?

My reason for asking this question is something Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:16, a verse often overlooked in favor of the glorious assertion that precedes it in vv. 14-15 and the monumental declaration that follows in v. 17. It’s all too easy for v. 16 to get lost in the valley, as it were, overshadowed by the towering twin peaks of what comes before and what follows.

In 2 Corinthians 5:14-15 we read of the love of Christ revealed in his death for sinners and their new life in him. In 2 Corinthians 5:17 we are told that because of this remarkable achievement, all who are now “in Christ” are “a new creation” in which the “old” has passed away. A marvelous pair of theological truths indeed! But we dare not ignore the equally profound practical implications that flow from them.

I’m alerted to this by the word “therefore” in v. 16. There is obviously a significant conclusion to be drawn from the fact that Christ died for all so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for Christ who died for them and was raised again. And here it is:

“From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer.”

Christ’s redemptive sufferings on Paul’s behalf have done far more than simply alter his relationship with God. Yes, his sins are forgiven and all guilt is washed away. He is justified, adopted, and destined for eternal bliss. But it is also the case that, because of what Christ has achieved in his atoning death, Paul has experienced a radical and far-reaching transformation in his relationship with other people. And so should we.

“Therefore,” says Paul; because of the love of Christ revealed in his death for me I no longer regard or evaluate or assess people “according to the flesh” (v. 16a). What does the apostle mean by this?

The phrase, “according to the flesh,” has been interpreted in countless ways. The consensus today is that it has nothing to do with the so-called sinful nature or sensual passions, but rather means “in accordance with the standards and values that derive from living as if physical life in this world is all that exists” (Hafemann, 242).

Before his encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus, Paul (then Saul) evaluated other people on the basis of external and worldly standards. Of greatest concern to him were such things as: “What is your nationality? Are you a Jew or a Gentile? Are you educated or ignorant? Are you wealthy or poor? Are you male or female? Are you circumcised? Are you “barbarian, Scythian, slave, [or] free” (Col. 3:11).

Let’s be honest. We all have our own personal standards of judgment. We unconsciously appeal to certain criteria to evaluate the worth of people in our world. It may be the color of their skin or their financial portfolio. How often do we draw conclusions based on physical attractiveness or style of dress? Other criteria that inform our assessment include such things as political party affiliation, social influence, educational achievement, nobility of birth, bloodline, verbal eloquence, athletic prowess, and the list could go on.

For Paul, perhaps the most important distinction that governed his pre-Christian value system was whether one was a Jew or a Gentile. But the blood of the cross has forever obliterated any spiritual significance in that racial difference (Eph. 2:11-22). While one’s ethnicity remains (in that sense I will always be a Gentile and Paul will always be Jew), it has lost any value in determining one’s status with God or place within his kingdom. The only relevant factor is one’s relationship with Christ. Indeed, “if anyone is in Christ,” as Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” And one critical element of the “old” that has passed away is the appeal to external, worldly, physical, or ethnic standards for determining what is worthy of our devotion or who is qualified to inherit the promises of God.

I want to be perfectly clear. I am an American citizen. I love my country. I cherish my heritage. I am as patriotic as the next guy (perhaps more so). And if the need should arise, I would happily fight in defense of this land and the freedom that it affords. But I have a deeper connection with and a greater commitment to Christians in Russia and Iraq than I do to non-Christians in America. My primary, foundational, and fundamental allegiance is to the universal body of Christ, the church. I am first and foremost a citizen of heaven (Phil. 3:20). My greatest allegiance is to “the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” (Heb. 12:22), and only secondarily to Washington, D.C.

The apostle Paul was born a Jew, “of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews” (Phil. 3:5). But that was of absolutely no importance and carried no weight when it came to his relationship with God or his inheritance within the kingdom of the promises that God had made. All that mattered, said Paul, was whether or not you are “in Christ Jesus” by faith (Gal. 3:26). And “if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise” (Gal. 3:29), regardless of your ethnicity (“Jew or Greek”), your social status (“slave or free”), or your gender (“male or female”).

Everything must now be viewed in light of the “new creation” that has come with the redemptive work and resurrection life of Christ! Conversion for each of us entails a radically transformed standard for assessing what is valuable and true and deserving of our allegiance and sacrifice.

In the second half of v. 16 Paul extends this principle to his relationship with Christ himself. “Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh,” says Paul, “we regard him thus no longer” (v. 16b).

Did Paul know of Jesus prior to his conversion? Certainly he had heard of him. Jesus spent considerable time in Jerusalem during his years of public ministry, as did the young rabbi, Saul of Tarsus. Whether or not he met him personally prior to his Damascus Road experience is not stated (but is doubtful, in my opinion). But v. 16 has nothing to do with whether or not Paul had personal knowledge of Jesus during his earthly life or whether or not he was interested in the historical facts concerning Jesus’ existence in Palestine. Nor is Paul referring to knowing “Jesus” in his humanity as over against knowing him in his exalted and supernatural status as risen “Christ”.

Rather, here (v. 16b) Paul is repudiating his pre-Christian evaluation of Jesus. Before conversion he saw him as a blasphemer, a “misguided messianic pretender, [and] a crucified heretic” (Harris, 429; cf. Acts 22:3-4; 26:9-11). He now sees him as the Son of God in human flesh whose death on a cross is the power of God unto salvation.

To what extent do worldly or merely human standards still govern and shape how you evaluate other people? What criteria do you employ: ethnic, financial, and physical, or spiritual, biblical, and moral? Whom do you admire: the self-centered, “successful” reprobate, or the humble and rarely recognized servant of others? Why are you attracted to them (or, conversely, repulsed): is it the color of their skin or the character of their soul? What matters most: the flag that flies over their country or the faith that resides in their heart?

If you are “in Christ” then all things are new (v. 17), including how you think, feel, and will, as well as the basis on which you judge, assess, and evaluate. May the truth of the cross and the principles of the Spirit govern our perspective on others, rather than the warped ways of this fallen world.

- Sam Storms

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Valley of Vision: Who Made Me to Know You?

Who made me to know you, but You
When dead in sin You gave me new life
Now my heart is filled with love for You-- Jesus

Father, thank you for Your Spirit's work in me
For opening my eyes to the Christ of Calvary
Jesus, You gave Your life in exchange for mine
Now I will live for You who died-- Jesus

You placed a crown of grace on my head
You covered me in robes of righteousness
Forever I will always be yours-- Jesus

Father, thank you for Your Spirit's work in me
For opening my eyes to the Christ of Calvary
Jesus, You gave Your life in exchange for mine
Now I will live for You who died-- Jesus

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Valley of Vision: The Precious Blood

Before the cross I kneel and see
The measure of my sin
How You became a curse for me
Though You were innocent
The magnitude of Your great love
Was seen in full degree
When righteous blood, the crimson spill,
Rained down from Calvary


O, the precious blood
That flows from Mercy's side
Washed away my sin
When Christ my Saviour died
O, the precious blood
Of Christ the crucified
It speaks for me before Your throne
Where I stand justified.

And who am I that I should know
This treasure of such worth?
My Saviour's pure atoning blood
Shed for the wrath I'd earned
For sin had stained my every deed
My every word and thought
The wondrous love that makes me one
Your priceless blood has bought

O, the precious blood
That flows from Mercy's side
Washed away my sin
When Christ my Saviour died
O, the precious blood
Of Christ the crucified
It speaks for me before Your throne
Where I stand justified

A crown of thorns
His hands and feet
A body bruised
And mercy's plea

O, the precious blood
That flows from Mercy's side
Washed away my sin
When Christ my Saviour died
O, the precious blood
Of Christ the crucified
It speaks for me before Your throne
Where I stand justified