God's power made perfect in weakness (even in this small way)

It is Easter Monday. The last day of the Easter period (mainly noted here because Easter Sunday is a bank holiday and so it stands in lieu of a proper day off for most people). And me and my family have been sick the whole way through!

I preached on Maundy Thursday evening (on Jesus' comments about washing from John 13) and Good Friday (on the three crosses and respective responses of two criminals either side of Jesus). If you are interested, you can listen back to those here and here. 

I had planned to speak on Easter Sunday about Matthew's account of three very different responses to the resurrection event. Sadly, having croaked my way through Good Friday (I edited out the coughing fits for the online upload) it all proved too much and a contingency speaker was drafted in last minute on Sunday morning (who I am told did a stellar job). Instead of sitting under some uplifting ministry on the resurrection of Christ, I had the joy of sitting in a medical walk-in centre - wife and son in tow - to find out whether we had an infection that required antibiotics or just a horrible virus that we had to wait out (for those that care, it was the latter - which really stinks because not only is it hanging around but there is nothing we can adequately medicate with either!)

But here is what encouraged me. I felt totally sick and ill, had to help look after my family who felt much the same, and had no hope of preaching Sunday morning (that's not the encouraging bit). I also know the gentleman who stepped into the breach to cover the preaching was not looking forward to delivering an off-the-cuff word or having to deliver my poorly planned, inadequate notes that he wouldn't get sight of until about 10 minutes before the service started (his servant heart and willingness to do so is more encouraging but that's not quite it either). What was so encouraging is that despite every reason for everything to fall apart, the church was full, the service went ahead and the word was well received.

Often what we plan to be great isn't as great as we might hope. Other times, what doesn't go to plan at all and ought to be a disaster is no such thing. I am reminded time and again of Christ's words to the apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:9 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” You don't get much weaker than a preacher that physically can't deliver the sermon and a stand-in working from notes he has neither seen nor prepared!

And what more appropriate day than Easter Sunday for such things to happen. What looked like a disaster to the disciples on Good Friday, the death of their Lord on a shameful Roman cross, proved at Easter Sunday to be the plan of salvation God had ordained before the foundation of the world. What would have never been the plan of you and me was the appointed means by which God brought salvation to the world. What, by rights, should have been a total disaster and the end of the Jesus cult was God's greatest glory and the beginning of his 2000 year old church.

All that is to say, what may appear disastrous and seem destined to failure may be the very means by which God brings glory to himself. Whether that is in the small (or slightly bigger) parts of a church service or in the huge, grand sweep of salvation-history, God chooses the weak things by which to glorify himself. He chooses not to conform to human convention and wisdom. He chooses a virus to knock-out a church pastor and stop him preaching the word in order to glorify himself through another man taking his place and doing a far better job because he is almost certainly relying on the Lord in a way this pastor probably wasn't going to because his "power is made perfect in weakness".

Jesus' humanity, deity and the power of the Spirit

I posted some time ago, here and here, regarding Jesus' humanity, mission and anointing by the Spirit. It seemed to cause quite a stir in certain quarters. There was particularly some concern expressed over Bruce Ware's The Man Christ Jesus.

In my previous posts, I argued the miracles of Jesus did not prove his divinity. Rather, they proved his anointing by the Spirit for his specific mission from God. I went on to argue that Christ lived his life in the Spirit, yielding perfectly to his power, such that the works he did were not acts of his deity but were done in his humanity by the Spirit's power. It is his perfect human life accounted to all true believers and this same Spirit given to all true believers.

Following his excellent The Good God, I recently received Michael Reeves latest book Christ Our Life for Christmas. Thus far, it is excellent and can be highly recommended. One particular point pressed by Reeves is that the Son (or Word) of God never acted alone. He always worked in conjunction with the Spirit (as in Genesis 1, when the Word of God is spoken into the darkness borne by the Spirit). Reeves argues, in relation to the incarnation, "And as it had always been,so it was when the Word became flesh: he did all that he did in the power of the Spirit".

I was particularly struck by the force of his argument. He goes on to comment:

Born in the power of the Spirit, he lives and acts as a man in the power of the Spirit. At his Baptism in the Jordan, the Spirit anoints him, then sends him into the lifeless wilderness just as he had once sent him into the lifeless void in Genesis 1. Returning to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, he announced and defined his ministry in the synagogue at Nazareth using the words of Isaiah 61: 'The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favour' (Luke 4:18-19). So he healed, did good, and drove out demons - all in the power of the Spirit (Matthew 12:28; Acts 10:38). Later he would offer himself up on the cross by the Spirit (Hebrews 9:14) and be raised from the dead by the power of the Spirit (Romans 8:11)

In line with Ware's argument, Reeves states "Christ shows what it is to be a human, fully alive in the Spirit. And he is the head of a new, Spirit-filled humanity: all in him share in this anointing of his".

The importance of this cannot be missed. Though the impeccability of Christ must be defended, we mustn't miss the distinction between why he couldn't sin and why he didn't sin. As God, Jesus Christ could not sin yet, in his humanity, the reason he did not sin was because of his perfect reliance upon the power of the Spirit.

It is this distinction that means Christ's perfect life, lived in the Spirit, can be fully accounted to those who believe by faith in him. If the perfect righteousness of God could simply have been accounted to us, as God, Christ's humanity would have been unnecessary. Likewise, if Christ shifted at will between his deity and humanity during his ministry, it seems there would be aspects of his perfect humanity that could not be accounted to us (as he would have lived them out under his deity). Similarly, the call to "walk as he walked" must be rendered wholly impossible because he would have walked as God, in his deity, something we can never aspire to do. Instead, in his humanity, Christ perfectly yielded to the power of the Spirit - the same spirit he gives to all those who believe by faith in him and who are united with him in his death.

It is equally why believers, who receive the Spirit upon conversion, are now able to live lives that are truly and actually pleasing to God. Not in our own power, suddenly changed to be "good", but in the work of the Spirit in our lives when we yield to his power. Thus, when we sin as believers (and we always will until we reach glory), it is not because we have no means to put sin away (as when we were unbelievers) but rather because we are not fully yielding to the power of the Spirit at work in our lives. It is a tendency to yield to the call of sin (which we could only do as unbelievers) rather than the power of the Spirit (which we are now able to do as believers).

Mark Steel is half right... nobody will abandon religion simply because an atheist bangs on about science

I generally like Mark Steel. He is usually funny and happens to take a political stance in his comedy that appeals to such as me. I was interested to read his piece in today's Independent in which he (rightly) argued nobody is going to abandon religion simply because "some atheist is banging on at them about science".

Steel is apt to recognise religious belief - as with almost any other firmly held position - is more than a mere matter of assent to facts/ideas (delete according to your predisposition). He comments, "dealing with the intricacies of people’s ideas requires more than yelling science at them" and offers the example of the anorexic who believes they are fat to underline the point. What passes as obvious for one may seem totally irrational to another specifically because of the intricacy of belief and the presumed facts each one of us deems "properly basic".

He correctly points out the issue with the modern atheist appeal to heinous acts committed by those who profess religious belief. He states: 

isn’t it the actions of these people that are vile, not the religion itself? Unless your attitude is: “Those priests are a disgrace. They sexually abused children, covered it up for decades, then to top it all they give out stupid wafers in their service. How sick can you get”?

This point rather hits at the heart of the issue. Richard Dawkins has argued the heinous acts of several atheist dictators had nothing to do with their atheism whilst simultaneously wishing to maintain the heinous acts committed by Roman Catholic priests were somehow prompted by their religion. For many of the New Atheists (cf. Christopher Hitchens' God is not great: how religion poisons everything), the attitude is precisely the one stated above.

Nevertheless, it is nice to see Steel observe "I spent a morning at a Sikh temple recently, where 4,000 free meals are provided for anyone who wants one" whilst pointedly remarking "if you turned up at Richard Dawkins’s house with 4,000 mates, I’d be surprised if you all got a meal out of him".

For all that, Steel's piece is to be commended. It is funny, endearing and recognises the truth that religious belief - in fact, belief of any sort - is more complex than simply assenting to a series of ideas. Somebody once remarked (and I forget who it was now, so I can't honestly credit it), the means by which we reach conclusions is a convoluted and intricate exercise influenced by many things. Reason is merely the device we use to convince others we are right. Often, we expect others to conclude  by reason alone when, for most of us, it is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions.

Here, however, is where I think Steel is a little unfair. The very title of his piece presumes that the religious are scientifically deficient. Equally fallaciously, he tacitly gives rise to the view that science is the primary form of knowledge (as opposed to other areas that handle issues science cannot and upon which science is often based e.g. philosophy). For all his denunciation of Richard Dawkins, his concern is more that Dawkins patronises believers, has a problem in principle with all religion and clearly ignores the good that many religious believers do. This rather conveys the belief that atheists are the guardians of science and reason whilst believers - who should nevertheless be entertained in their fanciful views so long as they do no harm to others - are not. Steel's concern is not the specific beliefs of Richard Dawkins but the patronising and/or aggressive rhetoric he employs. It is not his views with which Steel finds a problem but the tactics Dawkins uses to convey them. Ironically, this is rather patronising.

Steel says he finds the "contradictions of religion" confusing - as well he should! The example he cites of a guru continuing to fight a battle having had his head chopped off plays directly to our Western, post-enlightenment sense of that which is "properly basic". Of course that could never happen, says Steel, but look at the good these Sikhs are doing in a community setting, offering meals to people. It's the as-long-as-they're-doing-no-harm form of patronage; "yes, their views are ridiculous but look at the lovely things they do as a result"! At least Dawkins doesn't patronise like that.

It is true that belief is a complex thing and represents more than mere assent to a set of ideas. It is also true that reason is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions. However, that does not mean religion itself is baseless and one must park one's reason to be a believer. I equally don't believe a guru fought a battle after his head was chopped off. That's not because I simply dismiss it as something that could never happen (a position Philosophical Naturalism and Atheism are forced to hold). Rather, if there are good grounds to believe in a God (and, without rehearsing them all here, I believe there are) all sorts of possibilities are open to us. Nevertheless, I don't believe this did happen because of the positive reasons to reject it (again, all of which I will not rehearse here).

By contrast, Christianity is not a religion beget by presumption and story-telling. Scripture itself records God inviting us to "reason together" and the very basis of Christianity - the spark that ignited it as a movement - was based on the evidence for the resurrected Jesus Christ. Throughout the New Testament, the Apostles argued that their hope - and the whole basis of Christianity - stood or fell on the proof of that one fact. Establish the resurrection as a fraud (as many have tried) and Christianity dies overnight. Establish it as fact (in my view, the historical facts are extraordinarily compelling) and Christianity is based on far more than presumption. It compels us reasonably, philosophically and historically.

Where Steel is undoubtedly correct, it will take much more than atheists banging on about science to convince religious believers to abandon their beliefs. Interestingly, Christians recognised this fact long ago. Whatever the compelling reasons for Christianity (and I believe there are many), Blaise Pascal noted nearly 400 years ago, in his Pensées, that reason was but one step (and not even the first one) on the road to belief. No doubt this is where New Atheism is going wrong, merely "banging on about science", but is probably where a lot of modern evangelical Christianity gets it wrong too.

Whose faith prompted the healing of the paralytic man?

And behold, some people brought to him a paralytic, lying on a bed. And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven." - Mt 9:2

On seeing this paralysed man, Jesus goes on to forgive his sins. But it appears on first glance there is no mention of the paralysed man's faith. The "their", whose faith Jesus saw, seems to point specifically to the man's helpers rather than to the man himself. This throws up several possible questions: does this mean the friends' faith saved the man? Was the man saved without expressing faith of his own? Did Jesus forgive the paralytic man's sin without addressing the salvation of those who brought him?

There are at least three possible solutions:

1. "Their" actually includes both the man and his friends
2. Although Jesus specifically highlights the faith of the friends, we can presume the man had some faith given he was willing to be taken to Jesus. So, "their" refers to the friends but the man must have had some faith too
3. The friends' faith was in Jesus' ability to physically heal the paralysed man. Jesus was concerned to demonstrate that forgiveness, as with healing, is entirely a work of God. Thus, Jesus forgives the paralysed man, knowing (a) his sin had been forgiven in eternity past and (b) he will exhibit saving faith upon seeing the proof his sins had been forgiven

The key drawback to option 1 is its lack of consistency with the object of the sentence. It seems apparent the friends are the object of "their", not the man. It also begs the question why Jesus pronounced the man's sins as forgiven when he already had possession of saving faith. Similarly, why was the man forgiven when his friends, whose faith Jesus saw, were not?

Option 2 appeals in several respects. It makes the friends the object of "their" whilst allowing for the man's own faith to be the basis of his forgiveness. The major drawback is that the only grounds to presume the man had faith is the forgiveness Jesus grants. We have no grounds to presume they approached Jesus with any expectation other than physical healing (and, for the paralysed man, we don't know even that). Further, if they already had saving faith, why would Jesus need to pronounce the sins of the man forgiven (a) when this was already known and (b) without pronouncing the same of his friends, whose faith prompted Jesus in the first place?

Option 3 is also appealing in several ways. It maintains the friends as the object of "their" and makes sense of the surprise that came with Jesus' pronouncement (it does appear that nobody presumed the man already forgiven). Further, this reading fits nicely with the effectual calling of Matthew immediately following. The major drawback of this reading is that it might imply some are saved without possessing saving faith. As an initial riposte, we might note (a) the ordo salutis expects a work of the Spirit prior to recognition of our own conversion and (b) if election means anything, it is that God knows in eternity past that our sin is forgiven even though we do not.

Some thoughts on the Strange Fire conference

First off, let me share four blog posts, from across the spectrum, outlining differing views of the Strange Fire conference (some written before, during and after events):

1. Adrian Warnock: 'Why cessationists are wrong about prophecy'
2. Thabiti Anyabwile: 'Why you should care about the "Strange Fire" discussion'
3. Tim Challies: 'Strange Fire Conference: MacArthur's appeal to his continuationist friends'
4. Gary Benfold: 'Strange Fire...'

Much has already been said beyond the views expressed in the above articles so I will limit myself to the following points:

1. John MacArthur is absolutely entitled to hold a conference offering a reasoned defence of the cessationist position. Charismatic believers have run conferences promoting charismatic theology so promotion of the cessationist view in this way represents no problem
2. The issue for many is that Strange Fire appears to go beyond a legitimate defence of cessationism. Instead, it leans heavily toward attacking all views that are not out and out cessationist and denounces as outside the faith those who are evidently brothers based on a secondary issue that is not a marker of orthodoxy
3. Interestingly, John MacArthur - in writing his recent book and taking this approach - now aligns himself with the ultra-separatism of Peter Masters and the Metropolitan Tabernacle. Not only is the "Charismatic Movement" one of Peter Masters' favourite hobby-horses but he also seems to delight in denouncing as unbelievers those who adhere to gospel truth based on a matter of secondary import (significant though that issue may be in practice). MacArthur now similarly dismisses gospel-believing brethren in this same shabby way
4. MacArthur has defended himself against the charges of being unloving, lacking care about offending people and of attacking brothers by reiterating his denunciation of many brethren, claiming that he cares more about offending God than offending people and stating the most loving thing to do for someone is tell the them the truth. Frankly, this is the sort of rhetoric people usually employ when they are being both unnecessarily aggressive and unkind. Many is the person that claims they are "persecuted" for Christ's sake when, in reality, they are facing difficulty because they themselves have been unnecessarily offensive!
5. The conference clearly lacks nuance. The idea that cessationism can be pitted against continuationism in such stark terms is a false dichotomy. The range of views outside absolute, unerring cessationism are plethora (even more than the typically cited 4 broad positions outlined in Grudem's book 'Are Miraculous Gifts for Today?').
6. Beyond merely lacking nuance, the conference lumps all continuationists together and argues the "more reasonable" end of the spectrum lends credence to the "extreme lunatic fringe". It is wholly unreasonable to suggest, as MacArthur has done, that individuals such as John Piper and Don Carson lend an air of credibility to those who peddle a health and wealth gospel. These men have actively denounced such false teaching unequivocally and regularly (see here, for example). It is nothing short of slanderous to lump them in the same category as Roman Catholics and those who deny the Trinity.
7. The conference singularly fails to accept that many out and out Charismatics, as well as those who would consider themselves continuationist without labeling themselves Charismatic, are as opposed to the excess and abuse of Charismata as MacArthur claims to be. MacArthur suggests it is only the cessationist who truly decries such abuse of scripture when, indeed, all those who are genuinely spiritual find such things equally repellent.

On expecting a miracle

I previously posted here that Jesus' miracles do not prove his deity. I argued Jesus performed his miracles (a) in his humanity, (b) in the power of the Spirit c.f. Acts 10:38 and subsequently; (c) they prove, not his deity but, his special anointing from God. 

However, it is true that Jesus' miracles indirectly speak of his deity. They do so inasmuch as Jesus' miracles prove his special anointing by the Spirit which in turn support his claims to be 'from God'. As Bruce Ware comments:

...in response to the challenge to declare whether he was in fact the Christ, Jesus said in John 10:25 “I told you, and you do not believe; the works that I do in My Father’s name, these testify of Me.”  So, the “works” of Jesus testify to the truthfulness of his “words.”  When he declares with words, “Before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58), and “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30), these “words” that declare his deity are confirmed and authenticated by the “works” (i.e., miracles) that he does. That is, he is the Messiah of God, he is the God-man, and one way we know this is that he does works only God can do when he performs these works in the power of the Spirit. (Interview with Bruce Ware, http://mydigitalseminary.wordpress.com/2012/11/24/an-interview-with-bruce-ware/)

Now, R.C. Sproul has posted a helpful article entitled 'Does R.C. Sproul Believe in Miracles?'. The short answer is 'no' but he goes on to give some good justification as to why not. Interestingly, he roots his rejection of modern day miracles (according to his own tight definition) in the same premise as the above. Namely, he doesn't expect to see miracles today because miracles act as a proof of God's special anointing for a specific task. Given that he doesn't expect to see Apostles (or, presumably, Messiahs) around today, he equally doesn't expect to see miracles either.

It's an interesting article worth a read.

Jesus' miracles do not prove he was God

It is a common enough Sunday School application to assert Jesus' miracles prove he was God. Surely, were anything in scripture obvious, it's that!

Except, it isn't true.

We cannot simply look at Jesus' miracles and claim they are proof of his deity. Many people, including prophets and apostles, did miracles yet we, quite rightly, don't argue they too are gods. Therefore, miracles are not, of themselves, proof of deity.

No doubt, many of us would look at Jesus' miracles and say 'Only God could do that!'. On one level, this is true. However, Jesus did these miracles - not in his deity - but in his humanity. On this understanding, Jesus did these miracles by the power of the Spirit (see Acts 10:38). This still suggests Jesus' miracles could only be done by God. However, they were done by the person of the Spirit empowering Jesus in his humanity.

This is not mere academics nor just semantics. This is an issue that really does matter and truly makes a difference to how we view Christ's life.

On a lesser level, it is important that we don't load the miracles of Jesus with a burden they cannot bear. It doesn't take much to see the problem of citing Jesus' miracles as proof of his deity (what about the others who did miracles?). It is always important to avoid poor argument in a bid to convince people of biblical truth (see here for further thoughts). In the end, such shoddy arguments are usually seen as hollow and often leave people further from Christ than when they first engaged with us.

In reality, Jesus' miracles were never intended to prove he is God - just as the apostles miracles were never intended to prove they are gods (which, for the avoidance of doubt, they are not). Instead, the miracles of Jesus, by the empowering of the Spirit, speak of the Father's appointment of Jesus to his very specific mission. Each miracle Jesus does acts as a pointer to his ultimate work through his death and resurrection (well explained here). That Jesus was empowered by the Spirit to do these miracles acts as proof - not of Jesus' deity - but of his special appointment by the Father for this work.

More importantly, we make a nonsense of Hebrew 4 (amongst other passages) if we argue that Jesus' miracles act as proof of his deity. As explained here, if Jesus can switch at will between his humanity and his deity, we have real problems upholding the view, taught throughout scripture, that Jesus' full human life is counted to those that believe in Him.

If, however, Jesus' miracles testify to his anointing by the Father for his salvific work on the cross, we can uphold the truth of Jesus' full humanity, the truths expressed in Heb 4:15 and the truth that Christ's humanity is counted as righteousness to those who believe, all whilst simultaneously upholding his miracles prove he was anointed by the Father and, as a result, his work on the cross would be effective.