Theology – Page 37

On Building Spiritual Muscle, Part 3

January 20, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

So welcome to the gym. You’ll notice the mirrors on the walls (Jam 1.22-25), as well as several exercise machines scattered around the room. Let’s talk a little about what they are and how they work.

The first exercise machine we find described in Acts 20. Paul is returning to Jerusalem from one of his mission trips, and he stops in Miletus, the port nearest Ephesus, where’s he spent two years ministering in the recent past (Ac 19.10). Because he’s in a hurry to get back to Jerusalem for one of the annual assembly feasts (Ac 20.16), he saves some time by sending for the elders of the church in Ephesus. They gather there on the dock beside the ship, and he gives them a farewell address; he knows there’s trouble ahead in Jerusalem (Ac 20.22-23), and he knows he may never see them again (Ac 20.25). (I think he did see them again [1Ti 1.3], after he was acquitted on his appeal to Caesar [2 Ti 4.16-17] just after the end of Acts, but that’s not an issue here.)

He charges them to lead the church well. He closes by saying,

And now I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified (Ac 20.32).

We see our word grace here. To confirm that this verse is relevant to our study, we need to ask two questions:

Does the context indicate that the word grace is being used in a narrower sense, of spiritual strength?
Is there some sort of means indicated here that tells us how to receive the spiritual strength?

In answer to the first question, Paul says that this grace “is able to build you up,” which is a pretty clear reference to spiritual strength. And in answer to the second question, he ties the grace to “the word”—the “word of his grace,” the “grace-giving word,” if you will.

So the first exercise machine is the Word, the Scripture. If you exercise on it, it will make you stronger.

Now I suppose I need to press the metaphor a little further.

If you go to the gym—the physical one—and sit at an exercise machine and pump away, but without engaging any weights on the cable, will that be any benefit?

Technically, yes; depending on how fast you pump, you might get some cardio benefit, and depending on the range of motion, you might get some improved flexibility out of it.

But will you build any muscle?

Nope.

You build muscle by tearing muscle fiber, and you do that by engaging resistance against the muscle.

You need to put weights on the machine.

How do you put weights on the Bible machine?

May I suggest some possibilities?

You do more than just read a verse or two and then get on with your day.
You read it extensively. It’s common among believers to read through the Bible each year. That’s certainly a great place to start.
You read it intensively. You read slowly, attentively, thoughtfully. You turn it over in your head. You draw conclusions and applications from it.
You reach beyond your grasp. You read what others have written about the passage, especially others with study tools that you may not have for yourself.
You memorize it, so you can turn it over in your mind anytime you have a spare minute.
You write down what you’ve learned, so it will be cemented more solidly in your mind.
You talk to others about it, both to hold yourself accountable and to benefit from their insights.
You find opportunities to teach it, because the best way to learn anything is to teach it.

I’m not suggesting that you need to study your Bible for hours every day; you don’t spend hours on any exercise machine, because life calls. But you put weights on the machine, to increase the benefit of the time you spend there.

And you build muscle.

Next time, a different exercise machine.

Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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On Building Spiritual Muscle, Part 2

January 16, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

I’ve suggested that our lives ought to be oriented around the work God is doing in his people to make them—us—more like his Son. I’ve also suggested that this work can be compared to an exercise program.

Although I think the analogy is helpful, I also recognize that it isn’t really useful unless the Scripture gives us reason to think that the sanctification process is in some ways similar to physical exercise.

Is there any evidence of that? Is there a biblical word for spiritual strength? And are there “exercises” attached to it?

There are of course words in the Bible that are translated “might” or “power” or “strength.” The most well-known one, I suppose, is the Greek dunamis; I suspect you’ve heard a preacher somewhere say that “this is the Greek word from which we get our word dynamite.” It’s used often in the New Testament in reference to the “power of God,” and once we’re told that it “works in us” (Ep 3.20). So that might be a profitable study for us.

I’d like to direct your thinking, though, to a different word, one that might not come to mind in this connection. It’s the word grace.

I suspect you’re thinking that you know what grace means, and it’s not “strength.” You learned in Sunday school that it means “unmerited favor”—“God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.”

And indeed it does. It refers to anything you’ve received that you don’t deserve.

But you also know that words have multiple meanings. If you look up pretty much any word, in pretty much any language, the dictionary will list several definitions, or nuances, for it. Humans are creative—because they’re in the image of God, who is creative—and we make up new meanings for our words all the time. (Teenagers are especially good at this.)

Thus one of the basic steps in studying any word is to determine the various meanings it has. In the case of grace (charis in Greek), it can have several meanings—for example, a present or gift (Ac 24.27; 25.9); credit (Lk 6.32-34); honor (Ac 2.47); and, yes, unmerited favor (Ac 15.11). But occasionally it’s used in a more specific, perhaps even technical, sense, of a particular thing you don’t deserve—namely, spiritual strength. You can see this especially in 2Co 12.9, where Jesus says to Paul,

“My grace is sufficient for you,
for power is perfected in weakness.”

Note the parallelism between these two clauses; grace is in parallel with power (Greek dunamis). It’s no surprise that this verse is often used in theology as a proof text for the omnipotence of Christ and therefore for his deity.

Grace is strength. So Paul tells young Timothy, “Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus” (2Ti 2.1).

So here’s our biblical question: does the Scripture ever use the word grace in the sense of spiritual strength, where the context indicates a mechanism for building that strength—a spiritual exercise, if you will?

Does the Bible tell us how we can “exercise [Greek gumnazo, as in gymnasium] ourselves unto godliness” (1Ti 4.7)?

Well, the Greek word charis, “grace,” occurs 160 times in the New Testament; that’s quite a list of verses to go through. From those 160 occurrences, we need to select those that are speaking of spiritual strength; then from that smaller list, we need to select any occurrences that specify an exercise for building spiritual strength.

That’s gonna take some time.

Fortunately, there are people who have already done that work, and we can benefit from their labors.

There are three passages in the Scripture that seem to have what we’re looking for, and each of those passages specifies a different spiritual exercise.

The great thing about this exercise program is that it doesn’t matter what kind of shape you’re in at the moment; you can get started right away, and you don’t have to pace yourself to prevent a cardiac event.

Oh, and you have a Trainer who has the supernatural ability to impart his infinite strength to you whenever you need it, so you can keep making progress. “Just 10 more reps,” indeed.

Best fitness program ever.

Next time, we’ll drop by the gym and begin examining the exercise machines.

Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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On Building Spiritual Muscle, Part 1

January 13, 2020 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

What’s the most important question in the world?

I think my fellow Christians would agree with me that it’s the question of where you’re going to spend eternity. If there’s life after death, and if that life is eternal, and if there are different possibilities for the nature of that life, then it’s hard to imagine any question more important than that one.

Life and death. Heaven and hell. It doesn’t get any more consequential than that.

As the Philippian jailer put it so clearly and succinctly all those years ago, “What must I do to be saved?” (Ac 16.30).

And interestingly, according to the Scripture, the answer is remarkably simple and direct. As Paul replied to the jailer, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved” (Ac 16.31).

God has been kind to make the answer to such a consequential question so simple.

Over the years, quite a few Christians have behaved as though The Most Important Question is the only important question.

I said the prayer. I got my ticket out of hell. It’s all good.

Now. What do I want to be when I grow up? Whom do I want to marry? Where do I want to live?

But the Scripture doesn’t see conversion as merely a ticket to ride. Conversion is a commencement—it’s the start of something really, really big, a whole lot of which takes place before you get anywhere near heaven.

I’ve written on some of that before.

Conversion begins a lifetime of being changed, through the work of the Spirit of God, to be more and more like Christ—to the degree that we can be like someone who is God as well as man. It’s a life in which everything—everything—is being morphed, refreshed, improved, renovated (2Co 3.18).

For many Christians it comes down to trying to be good now. Trying to get better, to turn over a new leaf. And, like new year’s resolutions, it gets old and tired, and we end up not making much progress. I’ve known people who said, “I’ve tried the Christianity thing. Didn’t work for me. Wish it had, but it didn’t.”

But it’s not about trying to do better. It’s not just a New Life’s Resolution. It’s a sure, certain work, by the omnipotent and faithful Spirit of God, to conform you to the image of Christ.

Which brings me to what I often call The Second Most Important Question in the World:

How do I achieve reliable, steady spiritual growth?

Or, as I’ve titled this series,

How do I build spiritual muscle?

I suppose many Christians would reply, “You just pray for it.”

I’d like to suggest that that’s not really the right answer. I’m all for praying—in fact, we’ll get to that topic later in the series—but I’d suggest that that’s not the answer that the Bible gives to this question.

Yes, the Bible does say that if we lack wisdom, we should just ask for it (Jam 1.5). And the Scripture makes much of God’s generous willingness to pour out his blessings on us, if we’ll only ask (e.g. Lk 6.38). Prayer is certainly part of the answer. But it’s not the whole answer.

Perhaps an illustration will help.

Suppose I want serious abs. Ripped abs. A washboard. (Come to think of it, how do you know I don’t already have them? ?)

And so I pray: “Dear Lord, please give me abs.”

And I lie on the couch, watching TV and eating half-gallons of ice cream straight from the carton.

Six-pack?

Nope. Not outside of well-insulated cooler, anyway.

Doesn’t work that way. God could answer that prayer miraculously, of course. But he won’t, and not just because we don’t have “enough faith.”

There’s a way to get abs.

Now let me ask the application question.

If the Bible has told us how to build spiritual muscle—if it’s given us the exercises, so to speak—and we don’t do the exercises, do you think God’s going to give us spiritual muscle miraculously?

Sure, in the end our spiritual growth is a miracle. But I’d suggest that God has placed some of the responsibility for sanctification on us.

And for what it’s worth, the theology books, both Calvinist and Arminian, agree with me. Sanctification is a synergistic work between the Spirit of God and the believer.

So. How do we build spiritual muscle? What are the exercises?

Join me for the next few posts, and we’ll work through the biblical data.

 Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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Believing Prayer

December 19, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

The prophet Isaiah is receiving visions from God that open to him the long corridor of future time.

The message is mixed.

The first 39 chapters of the book contain a lot of really bad news. The current bogeyman on the world stage, Assyria, is going to be replaced by another equally bad one, Babylon. And Babylon is going to be the hammer that brings judgment to Judah for its persistence in the very sins that have already brought God’s judgment on Israel through Assyria—

idolatry
mindless ritualism in worship
social injustice

And there’s no doubt that this judgment will come.

But starting with chapter 40, the tone and message change dramatically. Words of comfort. Promises of restoration and blessing. A Messiah. A Servant of Yahweh.

Near the end of the book there’s a passage that seems to get odder the longer you think about it.

¹For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent,
And for Jerusalem’s sake I will not keep quiet,
Until her righteousness goes forth like brightness,
And her salvation like a torch that is burning.
²The nations will see your righteousness,
And all kings your glory;
And you will be called by a new name
Which the mouth of the Lord will designate.
³You will also be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord,
And a royal diadem in the hand of your God (Is 62.1-3).

There’s the promise of blessing, which will surely come to undeserving Jerusalem. But the part that really catches my eye is the first verse. This blessing, this restoration is so critically important to God that he will not stop talking about it. He will not rest until he brings it to pass.

That sets us up for an even more remarkable statement a bit farther down the passage:

⁶On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have appointed watchmen;
All day and all night they will never keep silent.
You who remind the Lord, take no rest for yourselves;
⁷And give Him no rest until He establishes
And makes Jerusalem a praise in the earth.

God orders his people to hold him to his promise—to badger him, to nag him, to hector him—to “give him no rest” until the promise is fulfilled. And the exclamation point on all this is that he himself has appointed those “watchmen” with the specific task of hectoring him.

God’s really, really serious about keeping his promises.

You’re probably thinking about the implications of this principle for our prayer life, and you’re right to do so; Jesus himself endorses that application.

In Luke 18 Jesus tells a parable about an unjust judge who doesn’t care about the people or the cases they bring before him. But there’s this woman who just won’t quit bothering him about her case. Eventually he rules justly, not because he cares for justice, but because he’s sick and tired of the woman’s hectoring. As he puts it, “by continually coming she will wear me out” (Lk 18.5)—literally, “give me a black eye.” No mas, he says.

Unfortunately, some Christians have assumed from this parable that God is like the unjust judge—that he needs to be convinced to help us, that we have to beat him down and wear him out to extract his begrudging grace. But as my colleague Layton Talbert has wisely and reverently noted, this kind of thinking misses the whole point of the passage.

Jesus is not saying that the Father is like the unjust judge; to the contrary, his point is that the Father is not like the judge. This is an a fortiori argument, one from the weaker to the stronger: if even an unjust judge will do the right thing when asked—enough, and with enough force—how much more will your heavenly Father do the right thing when we ask him? If a judge will do this for someone he doesn’t even know or care about, how much more will our Father, who cares for us as his own children, do for us when we ask? (Lk 18.6-7).

God is the kind of person who listens to his children and responds to them generously. He even appoints people to nag him until he keeps his promises (Is 62.6-7), even though he’s completely focused on their good and doesn’t need to be reminded (Is 62.1).

Go ahead and ask.

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“No Peeking!”

December 16, 2019 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

When I arrived home after work one evening, one of my daughters, who was perhaps three or four years old at the time, met me at the door with delightful words.

“Daddy! I have something to show you! Take my hand, and close your eyes, and no peeking!”

So I took her hand and (mostly) closed my eyes and let her lead me through the house to show me the surprise she had prepared for me.

All these years later, I don’t remember what the surprise was. I’m sure it was one of those things that, in truth, is a bigger deal in the eyes of the child than in the eyes of the parent. I do recall keeping one eye slightly slitted open, because I was pretty sure that she wasn’t thinking about doorframes, and I didn’t want to get knocked out.

Now, why did she want me to close my eyes? Because even at her young age, she knew that joy is heightened by surprise, and surprise is intensified by anticipation. And why did I go along with her? Because I know and love her; because I trusted her to lead me to something good; and because I wanted her to enjoy seeing my joy when the surprise was unveiled.

Sometimes God meets us at the door, so to speak, and he asks us to take his hand, and close our eyes, and “No peeking!”

Most of us respond to that by drawing back and saying, “What? Where are you taking me? Is this gonna hurt?”

Don’t we know him? Don’t we trust him? Do we think he’s going to run us into a doorframe?

How hurtful do you suppose that is to him?

Why do we insist on seeing where he’s taking us?

He doesn’t hide the future from us to frighten us, or to disguise some evil and hurtful thing he has planned for us. He hides the future from us because he loves us—because he wants us to know the increased joy of anticipation and, eventually, revelation of the great things he has prepared for us, in both this life and the life to come.

And we should go along with him, not complaining and not asking accusatory questions, because we know him, because we trust him, and because we want him to enjoy seeing our joy when the surprise is unveiled.

When my daughter said, “OK, Daddy, open your eyes!” I looked first at the surprise—but then I looked immediately at her face, because I wanted to see her joy at my joy. That’s a priceless experience, to see unrestrained joy in the face of someone you love.

Instead of worrying about where God may be taking us—and deeply hurting him in the process—we should prepare to see his face and the joy that we have placed there by simply taking his hand, closing our eyes, and not peeking.

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Christ. Alone.

December 12, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

God has made us in his image (Gen 1.27).

Because of that, we’re compelled to know and worship him; we’re driven by our very nature to seek him.

Over the centuries, humans have sought God in lots of places—

In natural revelation, the works of God’s hands. He does reveal himself there, but we know the world is broken by sin (Rom 8.22) and is not designed to be worshiped (Ro 1.25). Pantheism and animism don’t bring us to God.
In good works, the salving of our conscience. Our conscience is indeed a gift of God, and when properly informed it’s a valuable tool, but like nature, our conscience is broken too, and it can’t reveal God to us in any way we can trust. Further, our good works cannot be compared to God’s complete perfection (Is 64.6).
In ourselves, which is where the predominant worldview today seeks meaning. Not surprisingly, since creatures are unworthy of worship, current secular philosophy denies that we are creatures—and in so doing dooms itself by beginning with a false premise.

Where, then, do we find God? As I’ve noted recently, we find him perfectly revealed in Christ (Heb 1.1-2). Norman Geisler notes that in Colossians 1, as in no other passage, are concentrated “many characteristics of Christ and His deity” (Bible Knowledge Commentary). It’s certainly worth our time to think through this rich passage.

Paul describes our ongoing relationship with God as beginning in knowledge (Col 1.9) that expresses itself in a worthy walk (Col 1.10), for which we are strengthened by the Spirit to endure the difficulties that come from walking worthily (Col 1.11). This climaxes in a heart of gratitude for what God has done in Christ (Col 1.12): he has qualified us (Col 1.12) and transferred us to the Son’s kingdom (Col 1.13). As Paul meditates on this work, his focus shines like a laser beam on Christ, whose work has brought our salvation. How pre-eminent is this One Who has taken interest in our helplessness!

Christ manifests himself as pre-eminent in several ways—

In the cross (Col 1.14). He becomes man because no other man can do what needs to be done for our rescue. He redeems us, liberating us from our abusive master (Col 1.14a) and the power of his grip on us, and he forgives us, liberating us from the guilt of our sin (Col 1.14b).

In creation (Col 1.15-17). He is “the firstborn over all creation” (Col 1.15)—I’ve written on that before—because he is the powerful creator (Col 1.16). And he faithfully upholds and directs all that he has created (Col 1.17)—that’s what we call providence. He made it all and runs it all. That’s pre-eminence.

In the church (Col. 1.18-23). He is the head of the body, the church (Col 1.18a) and the source of its life (Col 1.18b). In the end, he is the one who reconciles to God all who are in that body (Col 1.19-22a), upholding us through life’s journey until we dwell in his presence (Col 1.22b-23).

This one God-Man has done it all. He has created and directs the entire cosmos in which we live, move, and have our being; he has solved the infinite problem of our sin; and he enables and empowers us through our life of service to his purpose, finally reconciling us completely and eternally to the God from which we came.

We ought to live for him.

Who is He on yonder tree
Dies in grief and agony?
Who is He that from the grave
Comes to heal and help and save?
Who is He that from His throne
Rules through all the world alone?

’Tis the Lord! O wondrous story!
’Tis the Lord! the King of Glory!
At His feet we humbly fall;
Crown Him! Crown Him Lord of all!

– Benjamin Russell Hanby

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How God Speaks, Part 3

December 5, 2019 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1 | Part 2

In Part 1 we noted that in biblical times God spoke a lot—as Hebrews 1.1 puts it, in different times, in different ways, to different people. But the same passage also says that with the incarnation there’s come a change; now things are different, and radically different. Part 2 lays out my reasons for saying that.

Some people find that sad. How great would it be to hear Isaiah preach, or David sing, or Moses thunder! And how much greater would it be to hear the Son himself teach, and see him heal, and watch him work! And wouldn’t it be great if God spoke to us, directly, in our heads? Isn’t it sad that we can’t do any of these things today? Don’t we feel a little bit … well, deprived?

No, we’re not deprived, regardless of how we feel. How do I know that? Because it isn’t in God’s character to deprive his people. He sometimes chastens us (Heb 12.6), but he doesn’t hold back from us anything we need (Php 4.19), or anything good (Ps 84.11). Jesus told his disciples that it was better for them that he go away (Jn 16.7). The same book that tells us about this change in the way God speaks also has as its primary point the great superiority of the New Way over the Old.

We may not feel like it’s better not to have prophets among us, but it is.

What’s better about it?

Let’s begin by making the obvious point. God still speaks to us today, but he does so in very specific ways. He speaks through his created works (Ps 19.1; Rom 1.20), but that medium is tainted by sin (Rom 8.22) and therefore unreliable as revelation. He spoke fully and perfectly by revealing himself in the person of his Son, as Hebrews 1.2 says. And as the Son told his disciples, after he left them he would send the Spirit, who would do certain things in and through them—most specifically, he would “bring all things to [their] remembrance” (Jn 14.26) and “guide [them] into all truth” (Jn 16.13). When did he do that? When they wrote the New Testament, completing the Scriptures.

So how does he speak authoritatively today? In the written Word, which is the Spirit-given record of the living Word, the incarnation, “the express image of [God’s] person” (Heb 1.3), “the image of the invisible God” (Col 1.15), the one “in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily” (Col 2.9). And that’s much better than the old way.

How?

Let me suggest three ways; I’m confident there are more.

The Word is objective. It’s written down, for all the world to see. The words are on the page; there’s a permanent record. It’s not a fleeting impression in your mind. There’s no question of whether it’s from God or just the product of your own imagination. It’s there.

The Word is firsthand. The Spirit of God directly guided the biblical authors so that they wrote what he intended (2P 1.21), down to the letter (Mt 5.18). We don’t have to depend on somebody else’s account of a dream he had once.

The Word can’t be faked. About that guy and his dream—how do you know if God really told him that? How do you know he’s not a crook? These days we have a pretty lousy record of discerning the spirits of preachers. Elmer Gantry is not entirely fiction, is he? We’re really good at being duped, because our flesh wants us to be. Jesus calls us sheep for a reason, no?

Back in the late 1970s I went to a healing service in Greenville featuring Ernest Angley. I decided to see what would happen if I asked to be healed. I got there about 10 minutes before show time and headed for the front row on the left side, from where I knew he called up the people he was going to heal. About 10 rows from the front an usher stopped me and asked if he could help. I told him I wanted to be healed. He told me that if God told Brother Angley to heal me, he’d call me out of the crowd regardless of where I was sitting. And he told me to go sit further back.

Which I did, about the middle of the house. And over the next 10 minutes I saw people trickle out, one by one, from behind the curtain and take their seats in the front row on the left. Those were the people he healed.

I don’t really need to tell you what was going on there, do I?

The written Word, my friends. The New Covenant. It’s better. It’s all we need.

Hear it.

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How God Speaks, Part 2

December 2, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

A slight change of plans.

In Part 1 of this series, I said that in Part 2 I’d write about how God speaks today, and how the current way is better than the old way. But in the meantime I’ve gotten some really good questions from a friend, and I’d like to insert a longer-than-usual post here to respond to them.

My friend had three questions—

“Is it possible that the contrast [described in Heb 1.1-2] is not exclusive, but the change is that God didn’t speak through his son in the past (though some would posit he did through Christophanies), and now he has?”
Or could “the focus of the change could have been on salvation–previously presented by prophets and the law, later presented by the incarnation and work of Jesus”?
“Also, what about the many passages predicting prophecy, dreams, and visions as an outpouring of the Holy Spirit? I’m curious how you account for God speaking in those? (Acts 2:33, 10:45; Rom. 5:5)”

Good questions, all.

I’ll observe that this takes us to a full-scale discussion of the disagreement between continuationists and cessationists, which I can’t possibly address sufficiently in a blog post or two. But I hope to lay down the seeds of my thought process enough that they can sprout in your mind if you’d like to seek a harvest in the topic.

So, to be brief, I find the options in the first and second questions above insufficient with regard to all the major disciplines of theology—

Exegetical Theology
- I note that all the major English versions follow the KJV in rendering the main verb here as a perfect tense, “God has spoken,” implying completed action in the past. I also note, however, that the Greek tense is not perfect, but aorist—and the Greek bodies among us know that the aorist usually has little to no temporal significance in Koine; it’s the default tense, the tense you use when you’re not emphasizing tense. Yet all the major English versions render it as perfect. Why is that? I suspect that like me they see the strongly constrastive structure of the passage and conclude that the contrast is between speaking partially through mediators and speaking completely and directly in the divine Son.
- I also note that larger context (the book of Hebrews) is all about the qualitative difference between the Old Covenant and the New—because Jesus is superior as to his person (Heb 1-4) and his work (Heb 5-10). This is all-encompassing and should not be restricted to just a part of God’s plan or providential activity.
Biblical Theology
- The Bible tells many stories, but through them it is telling just one Big Story, or metanarrative—and that story is about Christ as the perfect and complete revelation of the Father. I’ve written on that before, how the Old Testament purposely creates in us a longing for the very offices that Christ perfectly fills—one of which is Prophet.
- Hebrews 1.1-2 is the climax of that larger story—Christ, in permanently uniting the divine nature and the human nature in a single person, unites his people with God. So John tells us that the Son is the “Word” (logos) (Jn 1.1) who perfectly “exegetes” the Father (Jn 1.18). We should not seek to minimize this climax by making it anything less than the center of the story.
Systematic Theology:
- I’ve gotten a little ahead of myself in the previous paragraphs, noting the “person” and “natures” and “work” of the divine Son. Those terms more properly belong to systematic theology.
- And what does Christology tell us? That Christ is perfect and complete in every way, and that he thereby perfectly reveals the Father. I ask, what part of God’s revelation of himself in Christ may we find insufficient? What remains to be said? I’m not trying to sound like the fabled head of the US Patent Office who allegedly suggested in 1889 that the office should be shut down because everything had already been invented. We’re not talking about human inventors here; we’re talking about the Son, one of whose offices is to reveal the Father perfectly. I’d suggest that there are Christological implications of continuationism, at least in the form promoted by most Pentecostals and Charismatics.
Historical Theology
- I think it’s noteworthy that until the 20^th century, every orthodox church leader that I’m aware of agreed that the Canon was closed because special revelation had ceased. The gift of prophecy, and the concomitant gifts of tongues and interpretation of tongues, disappeared from the practice of the church except in a few cases, which were unanimously accompanied by doctrinal deviancies (Montanism, Paulicianism) that rendered those particular practices suspect even to modern continuationists.
Practical Theology
- It’s no secret that the last few decades have seen continuationism move from Pentecostal and Charismatic groups to what we might call mainstream conservative evangelicalism. But that change has come with its own set of inconsistencies. Both John Piper and Wayne Grudem, for example, have had to argue that the very nature of prophecy has changed since biblical times and that modern “prophets” can be mistaken. I would argue that what Grudem has done is to find a modern phenomenon that isn’t prophecy, redefine prophecy so as to call the modern phenomenon prophecy, and then claim that the gift of prophecy therefore continues.

Which brings me to my friend’s third question.

What about Joel’s prediction, cited by Peter at Pentecost, that “in the last days” God would “pour out” his Spirit, and there would be a renewed outbreak of prophesying? I suspect that this passage has played a significant part in the continuationist thinking of Piper, Grudem, and their fellow travelers.

As I’ve noted before, I understand Scripture to say that God does not intend our interpretations of prophetic material to be reliable until the prophecy has been fulfilled, so I don’t think anybody—cessationist or continuationist—can be dogmatic on this point.
Some interpreters (e.g. E. J. Young) think that Joel’s entire prophecy was fulfilled at Pentecost, and others would say it was fulfilled at or before the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. I don’t find those approaches convincing, especially in light of Joel 2.30-31 // Ac 2.19-21.
So I hold out the possibility that in the runup to the Second Coming, there will be a new outpouring of the prophetic gift.
But as a pretribulationist, I also (tentatively) understand the Bible to teach that the church will have been removed by the time those gifts appear. Maybe I’m wrong about that.

In the meantime, we all should agree that the Scripture is the overriding authority, and that all of our mental impressions must be subordinated to it. We all should further agree that the Scripture we have is sufficient to direct and inform our relationship with God and our service for him in the days he’s given us. And if that is the case, then the expression “the Lord told me” should mean precisely nothing to the hearer.

Tip o’ the hat to my friend, whose insightful questions prompted all this.

Next time, we’ll consider some ramifications.

Part 3

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How God Speaks, Part 1

November 25, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

We’ve all heard people say that God “told them” something.

Most of the time, they’re wrong.

I’m not saying that God can’t interact with our thought processes or, as some folks say, “lay [something] on my heart.” The Spirit who indwells us interacts with us all the time, convicting, teaching, directing, influencing our thinking and our actions.

But that’s very different from saying that God speaks to you, in your head.

I’d like to spend a post or two examining why I hit the off switch when someone tells me that God spoke to him.

As always, to evaluate this claim we have to go to the Scripture—which is replete with cases of God speaking to people.

God speaks all the time—

He speaks throughout the biblical timeline, from the very First Day—“Let there be light!” (Gen 1.3) to the very end of the very last biblical book to be written, 60 or more years after the death of Christ—“Surely I am coming soon!” (Rev 22.20).
He speaks on all sorts of occasions—
- Both formal (in his throne room, Is 6.8) and informal (while Gideon was threshing wheat, Judg 6.14)
- Both happy (the baptism of Jesus, Mt 3.17) and unhappy (Elijah in the wilderness, 1K 19.9)
- Both to encourage (to Paul in prison, Ac 18.10) and to condemn (to the king of Babylon, Isa 14.4-23)
He speaks in all different sorts of ways—
- In one-on-one conversations
  - With Adam (Gen 2.16-17)
  - With Noah (Gen 6.13ff)
  - With Abram, in the door of his tent (Gen 18.20ff)
- To people who are sleeping, in their dreams
  - To Jacob, of the staircase (Gen 28.12ff)
  - To Joseph, of his brothers bowing down to him (Gen 37.5ff)
  - To Pharaoh, of the coming famine (Gen 41.1ff)
  - To Nebuchadnezzar, of the coming kingdoms (Dan 2.1ff)
  - To Joseph the carpenter, of Mary’s pregnancy (Mt 1.20)
- To people who are awake, in visions
  - To Abram, concerning his offspring (Gen 15.1)
  - To the boy Samuel, concerning the death of Eli (1S 3.1-15)
  - To Nathan the prophet, about David’s future son (2S 7.4-17)
  - To Ezekiel, about the judgment and restoration of Judah (Ezk 1.1)
  - To Paul, about heaven (2Co 12.1ff)
- In an audible voice
  - A loud one, from Sinai, to the people of Israel (Ex 19.16-20)
  - A normal one, to Hagar, when she ran away from Sarai (Gen 16.11-13)
  - A quiet one, to Elijah, alone in the wilderness (1K 19.12)
- Through representations of his presence
  - A burning bush (Ex 3.1ff)
  - A pillar of fire (Ex 13.21)
  - A glory cloud—which may have been the same as the pillar of fire (Ex 40.34)
  - Urim and Thummim—whatever they were (Ex 28.30)
  - A whirlwind (Job 38.1ff)
  - An asterism (Mt 2.2)
He speaks to all different sorts of people—
- Prophets, throughout both Testaments
- Wise men, such as Solomon, as in Proverbs
- Rulers, such as Nebuchadnezzar, as noted above
- Ordinary people
  - A little boy sleeping in the Tabernacle (1S 3.2ff)
  - A peasant woman in a nondescript village (Lk 1.26ff)
  - A shepherd on the west side of the desert (Ex 3.1ff)
- And even a donkey! (Num 22.23ff)

So why am I suspicious of people who claim that he has spoken to them today?

Because the same Bible that tells us of all these past revelatory acts of God has also told us that things have changed:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, ²but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son (Heb 1.1-2).

The writer of Hebrews, whoever she was ( :-) ), first notes what I’ve delineated extensively above: that God has spoken in many times, in many ways, through many different people.

But, the author says, things are different now.

Now God has spoken through his Son.

This passage is structured as a contrast: God’s revelation used to happen a certain way, but it doesn’t happen that way anymore. Today, God has spoken in Christ.

In Part 2, we’ll talk about how we’re supposed to hear today what he has spoken, and I’m going to try to convince you that the new way is better than the old way—by a lot.

See you then.

Part 2 | Part 3

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How Successful People Operate by Biblical Principles, Even If They Don’t Believe It

November 7, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In my work as a college professor I’ve taught a number of courses online, and I’ve designed a few online courses as well. I like the experience.

Because my university has encouraged my professional development in the field, I recently joined several colleagues at a conference addressing online coursework. Just the other day I received a newsletter from the sponsoring organization, and the lead article caught my attention. It’s about characteristics of leaders in rapidly changing fields, of which online education is certainly one.

I was struck by the fact that these characteristics are solidly grounded in biblical principles, even though a great many researchers in the field—most likely a great majority of them—have no commitment whatsoever to the Bible as authoritative.

Here’s the list, with my comments embedded in italics:

Taking
radical responsibility.
You take full responsibility for your life and help others do the same.

This concept is a direct consequence of the image of God in man, which includes dominion. The Bible reminds us that we will be held personally accountable for our exercise of that dominion. Jesus identifies the second great commandment as loving our neighbor as ourselves.

Learning
through curiosity.
You view every opportunity, whether positive or negative, as a time to learn
about yourself and others.

Through general revelation we learn about God by observing the entire cosmos and all that it contains, as well as current and past events and developments, or providence.

Feeling
all feelings.
You commit to experiencing your feelings through to completion.

Our personhood in the image of God includes our emotional makeup. Although our emotions are tainted by sin and thus are not authoritative or reliable, they still reflect God’s image in a limited way and thus are worthy objects of study.

Speaking
candidly.
You commit to speaking the truth and allowing others to do the same.

As God is truth, we are to speak and hear the truth.

Eliminating
gossip.
You commit to ending gossip, as an active and passive participant.

We just talked about that, didn’t we?

Practicing
integrity.
Your personal integrity enables you to meet your commitments and take
responsibility for your actions.

Of course. Living a lie, or hypocrisy, the Scripture roundly condemns, as it violates the character of God.

Generating
appreciation.
You live in a space of appreciation, able to express it and also receive it.

Thankfulness is a key element of proper worship, as demonstrated in the Psalms and often elsewhere. As God receives our thanks, so we should imitate him by receiving the thanks of others.

Excelling
in your zone of genius.
You live in your full magnificence and empower others to as well.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made, and believers are gifted and empowered for service. God has providentially placed us where we can glorify him by accomplishing his will. Despite the fact that this point likely springs from a humanistic mindset, it is still grounded on biblical truth.

Living
a life of play and rest.
You have a life of play, rest, and enjoyment.

As Ecclesiastes notes.

Exploring the opposite. You recognize that your story is simply your story and is as right as the stories of others.

Nope. Not this one. Truth is not relative, and our perceptions are not in fact reality in all cases. There is absolute truth, which springs from outside of us, and we are successful only as we recognize and orient ourselves toward it.

Sourcing approval, control, and security. You know you are the source of the three most basic human needs of approval, control, and security.

Not the primary source, of course. But humans are designed to help and provide for one another, under the guiding hand of their Creator.

Having enough of everything. You are content with what you have.

That’s pretty much a direct quotation of Heb 13.5.

Experiencing the world as an ally. You believe that everyone around you is here to help you learn and grow.

Within the church that is certainly true.

Creating win for all solutions. You spend the time creating a “win” for everyone involved.

In the providence of God for his people, that is exactly the outcome (Gen 50.20).

Being the resolution. You see problems as an invitation for you to create a solution.

Again, in the providence of God, certainly.

The Scripture is clear that all humans are in the image of God (Gen 1.26-27) and that the image persists even in fallen humans (Gen 9.6; Jam 3.9). Everyone has God’s Word written on his heart (Rom 2.15). I think this has at least 2 consequences:

It
demonstrates the power of God’s image, in that it shines through regardless of
the fall, even in people who may well reject the biblical God and his Word
altogether.
It
can strengthen our outreach by providing common ground for conversations about
the basis for agreed truths.

The opportunities are endless.

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