I am convinced that there is a gear in our minds that automatically demotes Christ to a position beneath the Father, especially as we read the story of his birth at this time of year. There are all sorts of reasons for this, but the point is that we must continuously counter this impulse by consciously reminding ourselves that Christ is fully God. One way we are doing this in our church is by having Scripture readings each Sunday morning from the great NT passages about Christ’s deity – Heb 1:1-2:1, Col 1:15-20, Phil 2:5-11, John 1:1-18, etc. Placing these explicit affirmations of Christ’s deity alongside the accounts of his birth is a powerful way to communicate the glory of the Incarnation.

With this in mind, here is a good quote from J.P. Boyce on the importance of affirming that Christ was fully God while in the days of his flesh on earth.

“The importance of this fact of the Scripture teaching cannot be over-estimated. In its appropriate relations to the other truths taught it becomes the foundation of ever hope. It is not a mere speculation. It enters into the very life of the Christian, enabling him to say, ‘I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to guard that which I have committed unto him against that day.’ (2 Tim 1:12) It is not sufficient for us to know that the person who died for us was divine before he came into the world. The Scriptures assure us, and we need to comfort ourselves with the assurance, that he was equally divine when a babe in Bethlehem, when suffering upon the cross, when ascending from Olivet, and even now, while in human nature, he rules as Mediatorial King, or makes intercession with the Father as our great High Priest. We must even go beyond the idea of some kind of divinity, and recognize him as the unchangeable God, who was, and is, and ever shall be, the Almighty, the well-beloved Son of the Father, whom that Father always hears, and to whom all things have been entrusted, in order that the consummation of his glorious kingdom may be fully attained. The incarnation has been, indeed, of only one person of the Godhead, but of a person truly and essentially divine, whose relations to the divine nature have remained unaltered during his incarnation on earth and in heaven.”

James P. Boyce, “The Person of Christ” in Abstract of Systematic Theology (1887, reprint 2006 by Founders Press, Cape Coral, FL), 275-276.

What does it mean to confess that Christ is “begotten of the Father,” yet is also himself fully God and co-equal with the Father? This may sound like a very fine theological point, and in some ways it is. Yet anytime the Person of Christ is brought up in the setting of a local church, this immediately becomes an issue. How exactly can we say that the Son is equal with the Father? The heretic Arius taught that both of these things cannot be true, and that because Christ is called “the Son,” and “begotten of the Father,” he must necessarily be less than the Father. Arius taught that Christ, though the most glorious of all of God’s creatures and the agent through whom the Father created the world, nevertheless was sill a mere creature at the end of the day.

How should we respond to this? How can we say that Jesus is “begotten of the Father,” yet still his equal? I think William G.T. Shedd is helpful here by offering 5 distinctions that the theologians of Nicea made between the “eternal generation” of the Son, and creation:

The Nicene theologians distinguish eternal generation from creation, by the following particulars:

1. Eternal generation is an offspring out of the eternal essence of God; creation is an origination of a new essence from nothing.
2. Eternal generation is a communication of an eternal essence; creation is the origination of a temporal essence.
3. That which is eternally generated is one of essence with the generator; but that which is created is of another essence from that of the creator. The substance of God the Son is one and identical with that of God the Father; but the substance of a creature is diverse from that of the creator. The Father and the Son are one Nature, and one Being; God and the world are two Natures and two Beings.
4. Eternal generation is necessary, but creation is optional. The filiation of the second person in the trinity is grounded in the nature of deity; but the origination of the world depends entirely upon arbitrary will. It is as necessary that there should be Father and Son in the Godhead, as that he Godhead should be eternal, or self-existent; but there is no such necessity for creation.
5. Eternal generation is an immanent perpetual activity in an ever-existing essence; creation is an instantaneous act, and supposes no elements of the creature in existence.

William G.T. Shedd, History of Christian Doctrine, Vol I. (1863, reprinted in 2006 by Solid Ground Christian Books, Vestavia Hills, AL), 316-317.

Speaking of the Trinity and the Person of Christ as fully God and fully man are not just concerns in a systematic theology class; they are pastoral issues.

We do not have the option of avoiding these complex mysteries if we are to faithfully speak of the Christian God from the Christian Scriptures in the local Christian Church. Never is this more evident than at Christmastime, when we are (hopefully) trying to do more than simply rehash a few sentimental holiday images. Hopefully, we are attempting to draw attention to the weight and the wonder of the Incarnation, that God became a man to save his own rebellious creatures. This is the great mystery that angels long to look into, and on which the Gospel of our salvation is built. These are the truths that move the church to worship. But speaking of the birth of Christ will never create the awe in the human soul as they are designed to do, unless we are willing to dig into the doctrines of Trinity and Christology. We must carefully communicate that the infant in Bethlehem is nothing less than God the Son, the eternal Word made flesh, co-equal with the Father in power, glory, and honor. We must clearly explain that Jesus is not simply the greatest of all of God’s creatures, but that “there never was a time when he was not,” and that his birth is the fulfillment of a perfect plan of grace established in eternity. We must insist that it was “in the fullness of time” that “God sent his Son, born of woman, born under the Law, to redeem those who were under the Law.” (Gal 4:4-5)

And as we insist on these things, questions will arise – questions that were asked at Jerusalem and Nicea and Constantinople, straight through the history of the church, about how these things can be so. Now, we won’t be able to completely explain the deepest mysteries of the Trinity, but we should be able to point to the pertinent texts of Scripture we have wrestled through ourselves, to some of the great hymns of the church, and even some of the ancient creeds we have confessed.

This Sunday night, we are going to have a look at the Nicene Creed together. None of us will leave as experts, in theology or church history. But we will leave having been reminded of the great mystery of godliness; that Mary’s child is “God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God.” And hopefully, we will be moved to worship.

The narratives surrounding the birth of Christ in Luke 1-2 are so full of wonder that reading them feels to me like stepping into another world. We find in them the deep mysteries of eternity being revealed for the first time, and ancient promises long-expected being fulfilled. We find angels everywhere we turn, making proclamations from the throne-room of God to ordinary men and women. We find the Holy Spirit coming upon person after person after a long season of prophetic silence. We also find singing. Almost every important figure in these birth narratives seems to be so overwhelmed with a sense of God’s glory that their hearts overflow in song.

It is as if Heaven is literally coming to earth.

And that is because Heaven is coming to earth: the second Person of the Trinity is taking on flesh, for us and our salvation. And the greatest wonder of all is that these things are not taking place in another world. These mighty, merciful acts of God are unfolding in this fallen and broken world. They are unfolding in our world of sin and all its horrific effects: cancer diagnoses and torn family relationships and suicidal depression. Christ has come, and that should move us to sing.

Throughout this advent season, our church is studying the “Songs of the Nativity” in Luke 1-2, and we began yesterday with Mary’s Magnificat. You can listen to it here.

We are trying to be intentional about observing Advent in our church and our home this year. Advent is a latin term that means “coming,” and has traditionally been a time for the Christian church to remember the first coming of Christ, and to look forward with expectation to his return. On the one hand, worship at Advent is full of mystery and wonder, as we consider the Holy Trinity and the the Incarnation of the Son. On the other hand, worship at Advent is marked by a beautiful simplicity as we focus our thoughts and affections on solely on the person of Christ.

Last Sunday night, we began learning a “new” Advent hymn, “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent.” Though the song is new to us, it is actually one of the most ancient hymns in our ‘91 Baptist Hymnal, composed as a part of the “Liturgy of St. James” in the fourth century. The tune does not burst with the joy of the angelic chorus in Bethlehem, but is reverent, subdued, hushed. The lyrics are absolutely majestic, drawing heavily from a number of passages in the minor prophets that speak of silence in the presence of the Lord, and the influence of Nicene Christology is evident, as well. The lyrics are below, and worth meditating on; you can listen to it here.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
and with fear and trembling stand;
ponder nothing earthly-minded,
for with blessing in his hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
our full homage to demand.

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
as of old on earth he stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
in the body and the blood;
he will give to all the faithful
his own self for heavenly food.

Rank on rank the host of heaven
spreads its vanguard on the way,
as the Light of light descendeth
from the realms of endless day,
that the powers of hell may vanish
as the darkness clears away.

At his feet the six-winged seraph,
cherubim, with sleepless eye,
veil their faces to the presence,
as with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia,
Alleluia, Lord Most High!

I had to draw attention to this brief article by Tim Keller, where he suggests that the best place for a young seminarian to gain experience in pastoral ministry is as a solo pastor in a rural church. Right now, it’s really cool to talk about the importance of ministry in the city: “renewing the city,” “praying for the peace of the city,” recognizing the city as the place of the greatest influence, as the place where Paul spent most of his time, etc. I hear all of that, and I am so grateful for brothers ministering faithfully in the context of the city. But sometimes, perhaps inadvertently, rural churches are then in turn treated with scorn, and pastoral ministry there is portrayed as a wasted life. And, as you might guess, this absolutely wears me out. So for this reason, I was so encouraged to read Keller say this:

Some will be surprised to hear me say this, since they know my emphasis on ministry in the city. Yes, I believe firmly that the evangelical church has neglected the city. It still is difficult to get Christians and Christian leaders to make the sacrifices necessary to live their lives out in cities. However, the disdain many people have for urban areas is no worse than the condescending attitudes many have toward small towns and small churches.

Young pastors should not turn up their noses at such places, where they may learn the full spectrum of ministry tasks and skills as they will not in a large church. Nor should they go to small communities looking at them merely as stepping stones in a career. Why not? Your early ministry experience will only prepare you for ‘bigger things,’ if you don’t aspire for anything bigger than investment in the lives of the people around you. Wherever you serve, put your roots down, become a member of the community and do your ministry with all your heart and might. If God opens the door to go somewhere else, fine and good. But don’t go to such places looking at them only as training grounds for ‘real ministry.’

Rural churches are not simply training ground for an aspiring world-changing pastor. They are not stepping stones to more visible platforms and bigger pay-days. The blood of Christ spilled for these was every bit as costly as that spilled for the rest of his people. The risen and ascended Christ has called them, established them, and presides over them as their Head just as surely as he does any other manifestation of his church on the planet. And at the resurrection from the dead, there will be New Creation kings and queens rising from the hayfields of what were once the graveyards of little country churches, joyfully meeting their Lord in the air. Rural church members are the very flock of God, and they deserve a shepherd who will view them as those who have been invested with incredible dignity. They deserve a pastor who will minister among them with a kind of wonder and awe that is surely in the apostle John’s voice when he says, “Behold! What manner of love the Father has given unto us, that we should be called the children of God. And that is what we are!”

Like city churches, rural churches are worthy places for pastors of very humble gifting like myself to pour out their lives. And, like city churches, rural churches are worthy places for pastors of tremendous gifting to pour out their lives. I praise God that he raises up pastors to serve the church in both contexts, unto his glory. Like Peter and John on the shores of Galilee, let each man hear the call of Christ for himself. May we not turn aside to critique and evaluate our call in light of our brother’s, or our brother’s call in light of ours. Let us simply obey the Good Shepherd when he says, “You follow me,” and let us give thanks that he uses us both according to his good pleasure.

I got caught up in all the  hype about Calvin’s 500th birthday this year, and set the goal of reading through the Institutes in its entirety by the end of 2009. I came out of the gates strong in January-February, and thought I would obliterate my original 12-month plan. But then, the obligation of seminary reading, the enticement of reading smaller / easier works, and some old-fashioned laziness all went to work on me. Thoroughly humbled, I crossed the finish line last night, in the twelfth month of ‘09.

As expected, Book 4, which dealt at length with issues in the Roman Catholic Church and the ecclesiological matters where I differ most strongly from Calvin, was the toughest sledding. There was many a time in that stretch when I succumbed to the siren call of college football during that stretch. But there were many more moments throughout the book that were simply sublime — the best and most reverently-written theology I probably will ever read. It was a rich blessing to have read the Institutes in 2009, and I anticipate returning to it over and over in the years to come.

We finished our three and a half month journey through Galatians this past Sunday morning, and it has been life-changing for me. Paul’s relentless attack against legalism has cut into my own self-righteous soul every week, and the Gospel-grace he faithfully poured into my wounds has brought healing and freedom and joy. I pray the Lord has so used this powerful epistle in the lives of all the members here at Curve Baptist Church.

I thought I would mention the two commentaries I found to be the most useful during this journey. By useful I mean that they helped me to understand the text at difficult points, but also that they stirred my soul with powerful application. I think these are the best kinds of commentaries.

Timothy George, Galatians. New American Commentary. Nashville, TN: Broadman and Holman, 1994.

There may not be another commentary I have ever enjoyed reading as much as this one. As a Baptist, this commentary has a distinct appeal to me: the NAC is an SBC publications, and many of the applications and references made speak specifically to SBC life. In addition, this work was published in the wake of an incredibly tumultuous time in the SBC when the authority of Scripture and historic doctrines of the church were being recovered across the denomination, and parts of this book crackle with the intensity of a “tract for the times.” This is by no means strictly a niche-y Southern Baptist commentary though. Dr. George has a remarkable grasp on church history and numerous Christian traditions, as the school of which he is the founding dean, Beeson Divinity School, can attest. The illustrations from the history of the church which are woven in throughout enrich this commentary tremendously. His commitment to bringing forth key texts for historic Christian orthodoxy – - the Trinity, the person of Christ, salvation by grace alone, through faith alone in Christ alone, etc. – - also make this one a real gem. Highly recommended.

Martin Luther, Galatians. The Crossway Classic Commentary Series. Wheaton, IL: 1998.

Galatians was perhaps the key book of the Reformation, and Luther’s work on Galaians is, of course, the classic exposition. The Lord has used these comments powerfully in the conversion of John Bunyan and in the lives of both Wesleys. His comments on Galatians 5 are worth far more than the price of the book. This particular edition is condensed from the original version, but the editors are J.I. Packer and Alister McGrath, who seem to know a thing or two about Biblical studies. Judging by the benefit I received from this commentary, I would never have guessed that anything essential is missing from it. George is more helpful in guiding you through the text and showing how the parts make up the whole, but Luther’s great contribution is the fire and passion with which he brings justification and freedom home to bear on the Christian’s soul. This one is a non-negotiable.

My wife’s Paw-Paw calls himself a junkologist. For the past several years, he has gained a reputation in middle Tennessee for hauling off whatever people call him to come and get – everything from exercise equipment to sport coats to sewing machines. He dutifully loads it up on his trailer and brings it back to his storage shed in Lebanon, TN, which becomes the distribution center for his family, friends, and people in need. Admittedly, some of the stuff he winds up with won’t be showing up on Antique Roadshow anytime soon, but he has also brought home some real treasures. The parsonage in Curve has benefitted tremendously from his findings; between him and other family members, the only piece of furniture we had to purchase after getting married was one mattress.

With this kind of track record, you can imagine my excitement as I listened to a voice mail from Paw-Paw a few months back, telling me about his most recent haul. He had just left the home of a Nashville-area lawyer, who had parted with a massive library of “religious books,” and now they were stored safely in a pile of cardboard boxes in his shed, my name scrawled across the lid in sharpie. They were awaiting my inspection. Paw-Paw is a member of a little country Baptist church in his community a lot like ours here, and he was looking out for the library of his grandson-in-law.

At first, I tried to keep my expectations low. After all, “religious books” is a pretty vague category; who know what this guy’s perspective was? I resigned myself to the possibility that I would soon be the proud owner of the essential works of Harry Emerson Fosdick and Norman Vincent Peale. But as time went by, I became more optimistic. Surely there would be some classics mixed in there – an old copy of Augustine’s Confessions or something. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, my hopes were soon soaring. I just knew this faithful brother had been an adjunct faculty member of Southern Seminary and a card-carrying Founders member. My anticipation heightened each day that I looked at my bare shelves.

Through a series of unexpected setbacks, we didn’t make it to Lebanon at the beginning of October as planned, and so I set my sights on Thanksgiving weekend. On Saturday morning, we arrived at Paw-Paw and Me-Maw’s house. I bounced around anxiously outside the shed as Paw-Paw twirled the dial on the combination lock. We entered, I saw the books stacked before me, and I greedily began to separate the wheat from the chaff. One thing quickly became obvious: the man loved Hal Lindsey. But as I sorted through the end times predictions, I came across some real jewels. I thought I’d bring back a report on a few of the ones that made it home to Curve. Some are known classics, some are surefire useful reference tools, and others just sound interesting:

Book of Common Prayer
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Life Together
Broadus, John A. Commentary on Matthew
Burton, Joe W. Road to Nashville: From Vision to Reality: The Sunday School Board of the Southern Baptist Convention
Criswell, A.W. Why I Preach that the Bible is Literally True
Dickens, Charles. A Christmas Carol
Koehler, Walter J. Counseling and Confession: The Role of Confession and Absolution in Pastoral Counseling
Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity
Martin, Walter. The Kingdom of the Cults
McGee, J. Vernon, The Whole Word for the World: The Life and Ministry of J. Vernon McGee
Robertson, A.T. A Harmony of the Gospels
Ten Boom, Corrie. The Hiding Place
Wardin, Albert W., Jr. God’s Chosen Path: The Life of H. Franklin Paschall (a Union University graduate)
Wardin, Albert W., Jr. Tennessee Baptists: A Comprehensive History

Thanks Paw-Paw!

It would be hard to find a better description of what life together in the local church ought to look like than Paul’s imperative in Galatians 6:2: “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” This side of glory, every member of Christ’s church carries a pilgrim’s burdens. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually, we bear the heavy load that is part and parcel of a cosmos under the curse of death. And as we carry these burdens that range from sorrow over a dying family member to loneliness to frustration in the workplace to the perennial problem of our own indwelling sin — oh to have brothers and sisters who pursue this vision with compassionate zeal, who will help us shoulder the load for the journey!

Here’s what Luther had to say about it:

“This is a gentle command with a great commendation attached. “The law of Christ” is the law of love. After Christ had redeemed us, renewed us, and made us his church, he gave us no other law than that of mutual love (John 13:34). To love is not to wish one another well, but to carry one another’s burdens – that is, things that are grievous to us, and that we would not willingly bear. Therefore, Christians must have strong shoulders and mighty bones, so they can carry their brothers’ weaknesses, for Paul says that they have burdens and troubles. Love, therefore, is mild,courteous, and patient, not in receiving but in giving, for it is constrained to wink at many things and to bear them (1 Cor 13:4).

Martin Luther, Galatians. The Crossway Classic Commentaries (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1998), 290.

On this Thanksgiving Eve, I am so grateful for brothers and sisters with strong shoulders and mighty bones, who carry my innumerable weaknesses with such kind forbearance.