Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians, Part 5:  Intimacy

September 8, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Obedience | Part 3: Relationship | Part 4: Fruitfulness  

As Paul continues his list of specific ways that we will “walk worthy of the Lord, unto all pleasing,” he comes to item 2: “increasing in the knowledge of God” (Co 1.10).  

It shouldn’t surprise us that he lands here at this point; while the “good works” he’s just discussed are a necessary, even crucial, evidence of our regeneration—“faith without works is dead,” Jesus’ half-brother pithily observed (Jam 2.20)—Jesus made it abundantly clear that good works are not the central definition of Christian life. Throughout his ministry he lambasted the Pharisees, who had more good works going for them than anybody else in their day—even tithing their herbs and spices (Mt 23.23)—because they ignored “justice, mercy, and faith” (Ibid.). He identified the greatest commandment as “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind” (Mt 22.37); and in an intimate conversation with his Father, he said, “This is life eternal, that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent” (Jn 17.3). 

So it’s clear that Christian maturity is about more than just Doing What the Boss Says. Perhaps we can even say that it’s about more than the Lordship of Christ—though it is certainly about that. Christian maturity goes beyond that to the personal, to the intimate, to having a deep and loving—may I say affectionate?—relationship with God. We sometimes speak of “asking Jesus into our heart”—there’s some controversy about that—but as we’ve noted already, God is One, and we seek that intimacy with the Father (recall John 17.3, referenced earlier) and with the Son and with the Spirit, as One. 

The word knowledge here, as in the previous verse, has a preposition prefixed to it in the Greek (epiginosko as contrasted with ginosko). Sometimes, but not always, such a preposition signifies an intensification: so here, perhaps “to know with certainty,” “to know more deeply.”  

Maybe, maybe not. Trench thinks so, as does Geisler in the Bible Knowledge Commentary. But in any case we do not doubt that Paul is holding before us the goal of knowing God as thoroughly,as profoundly, as transformatively as a human can. 

Note that Paul describes this knowledge of God as “increasing.” This is something that grows, that develops, over time. 

We know what that’s like; we experience that in all our human relationships. My wife and I have been married for more that 41 years. There was a time when I didn’t know her at all. As we became acquaintances, we needed time for our understanding of each other to develop. Along the way there were times of misunderstanding due to the relative shallowness of the relationship. But as time proceeded, as experience was added to experience, we began to understand one another, to care for one another, to love one another. Most couples say that they thought they knew each other when they got married, but they realize now that they were just beginning. 

So it is in our walk with God; we are, after all, his bride (Rev 21.9). Unlike our human relationships, this growth is not reciprocal; God knows us perfectly from the beginning. But we have a lifetime of learning to do, and mature Christians find that their understanding and trust grow with that learning. 

Skeptics sometimes accuse Christians of being naïve, overly trustful, acting in blind faith. But that is not at all what’s happening. I trust my wife when I can’t see her, because I know her and have known her for decades. The mature Christian has the same kind of relationship with God. He knows his goodness and greatness from experience, and  he trusts him as a consequence. 

Do you have trouble trusting God? That’s normal for people who aren’t well acquainted. Give it time, and pay attention; God’s greatness and goodness will become apparent, and that will mature you over time. 

Next time: slow-twitch muscle.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Colossians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians, Part 4: Fruitfulness 

September 4, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Obedience | Part 3: Relationship 

Paul now lists four specific ways that we will “walk worthy of the Lord, into all pleasing” (Co 1.10): 

  • Being fruitful in every good work, 
  • Increasing in the knowledge of God; (Co 1.10) 
  • Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness; (Co 1.11) 
  • Giving thanks unto the Father (Co 1.12). 

That’s quite a list. Keep in mind that these things are what God accomplishes in us—so they are achievable. 

The first characteristic that Paul chooses to list is fruitfulness. This follows naturally from what he has just said; if you are walking worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, then you are bearing fruit. 

In my early days as a Christian, my instructors tended to see “fruit bearing” as soul-winning or evangelism. I don’t doubt that that’s part of it, and a significant part; evangelism—and then discipleship—is the Great Commission that the ascending Christ left with us (Mt 28.19-20). Some see in Psalm 126 a motivation to evangelism: 

5 They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. 6 He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him (Ps 126.5-6). 

While I believe the context indicates a much broader scope to this observation, it certainly would include the concept of evangelism. 

But overall, when the New Testament speaks of “fruit” in the Christian life, it’s speaking about good works as evidence of faith (e.g. “the fruit of righteousness,” He 12.11; Jam 3.18) or character development, most famously in the “fruit of the Spirit” (Ga 5.22-23). I think it’s reasonable in this context (“fruitful in every good work”) to read this characteristic as demonstrating consistent success in our spiritual efforts to walk in a way that’s pleasing to God. We will fail on occasion, of course; the “old man,” as Paul describes our sinful nature, remains with us (Ro 7.24), and we stumble along the way, perhaps every day. (Or is it just me?) 

But in the main, there is growth and development of character; we can see progress from the way we used to be to the way we are now. I’ve been encouraged by the fact that as I grow older, and I have a longer timeline to recall and evaluate, the progress is easier to see. The sin nature is still there, and it may not be easy to see improvement from last week, or even last month, but oh, are things different from 50 years ago! Here is clear evidence of God’s working in my life, his ready grace and empowerment over time. 

Because he is omnipotent, God is never in a hurry; he is never under the pressure of time. He has done his work in me, and in you, as he has pleased, and he will continue faithfully until our last breath—and then he will sanctify us perfectly. There is great peace in that. 

And there is great peace in meditating on the specific “fruit of the Spirit” that he is developing in our character: 

  • Love, or others-centeredness. Thinking about, and living for, others instead of your own priorities or even needs. 
  • Joy, or persistent optimism about God’s control of present and future. Looking for what he’s doing rather than complaining or fearing about trials. 
  • Peace, or confident resting in the goodness of God’s plan. Freedom from fear, the predominant characteristic of present society. 
  • Endurance, or the ability to bear up under challenging loads for as long as necessary. This is a natural consequence of peace. 
  • Kindness, or care in treating others as you would be treated. This is a natural consequence of love. 
  • Goodness, or “interest in the welfare of others” (BDAG). This, too, springs from love. 
  • Faithfulness, or reliability, persistent adherence to the truth. I would suggest that this is another consequence of peace. 
  • Gentleness, or “the quality of not being overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance” (BDAG). Another consequence of love. 
  • Self-control, or strength over your natural instincts. This too springs from love, a devaluing of your own interests in favor of those of others. 

God is doing this in you, over time, in his time. Enjoy watching this happen, and take heart from the experience. 

Next time: increasing in the knowledge of God. 

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Colossians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians, Part 3: Relationship

September 1, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Obedience 

Paul has begun his prayer for the Colossian Christians with his primary request: that they would be dedicated to knowing—and following—God’s will for them. The foundation of a well-rounded Christian life is being God-focused and God-centered. 

Now, if you’re starting down this path and have reoriented your priorities in that way, something is necessarily going to follow. Paul says that you will “walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing” (Co 1.10a). That may surprise you. Can we really “walk worthy of the Lord”—even from the beginning? 

Paul does speak matter-of-factly about walking worthy of God, as though this is something achievable, even routinely, by his followers: 

I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, 2 With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; 3 Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (Ep 4.1-3). 

Only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or remain absent, I will hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel (Php 1.27). 

As Paul teaches elsewhere, this is not something we just buckle down and do. He tells another church, “It is God that worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure” (Php 2.13). We seek his will as revealed in his Word, and his Spirit illuminates our minds as we read (1Co 2.12-16). With that understanding, we know what to do. And then he motivates and empowers us to do it. As we do, we will walk “worthy” of the Lord and please him well. 

This isn’t really something we can do by our own willpower, is it? It’s not about gritting your teeth, scrunching your eyebrows together, and trying your very very best. It’s about reading, studying, and meditating on his Word, communicating continuously with him, and walking consciously in the light of his presence. You know what? That’s something you can do with an attitude of peace, not frantic (and often frustrated) effort. 

Christians often say that Christianity isn’t a religion, but a relationship. That’s not just verbal jiu-jitsu; it’s at the definitional core. We can’t thrive spiritually without walking moment by moment with God. 

A little trinitarian observation is appropriate here. We often focus on the fact that God exists in three persons, to the extent, I fear, that we think of three Gods. That is gravely wrong. God is One, and the persons do not operate independently, even though they do fill distinct roles. If we follow Jesus’ pattern for our prayer (Mt 6.9-13), we pray to the Father, a fact that implies that he is close enough to hear us. (I know that God’s ability to hear is not a function of distance, but work with me here.) Jesus, the Son, said that he would be “with” his disciples, to the end of the age (Mt 28.20). And finally, the Spirit indwells us forever (Jn 14.16; Ro 8.9). Now, God is omnipresent (Ps 139.7-10), so in a sense he is “with” everyone, even unbelievers, and he is in places where there are no people whatsoever. But these passages indicate that the Triune God is united in being “with” believers in a special way, instructing , leading, strengthening, abiding. 

I dwell in the high and holy place, With him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, To revive the spirit of the humble, And to revive the heart of the contrite ones (Is 57.15). 

If you’re just stumbling along trying to do better, then, you’re missing the whole point. Walk with him, and you will find yourself walking “in all pleasing.” One commentator writes, 

“[This is] an expression that describes not a frightened attitude in the presence of a superior, but behaviour that honours the Lord because it arises out of glad obedience to him” (Peter T. O’Brien in The New Bible Commentary, p. 1265). 

Paul will turn next to specific ways that our walk will be worthy of the Lord. We’ll begin looking into that next time. 

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Colossians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology, Trinity

How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians, Part 2: Obedience

August 28, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

So what does Paul pray for the members of the church at Colossae? He begins this prayer (Co 1.9-23) with a basic request (Co 1.9) followed by its typical result (Co 1.10a) and then amplifies that result with four descriptors (Co 1.10-12). As I noted in the previous post, the final descriptor (thankfulness) opens the door to a long list of specific things for which believers should be thankful (Co 1.13-23).

That’s a lot to digest. Let’s start at the beginning, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

[ Sidebar: I’ve noticed in recent years, particularly among what we used to call “the young, restless, and reformed,” that many preachers like to use the metaphor of unpacking a box when they exegete a passage; they’ll say, “Let’s unpack this passage.” I rather suspect that they have a favorite preacher who uses the expression, and they’re imitating him (Piper? Mohler? Macarthur?). I have to admit that since I’m a hopelessly out-of-touch old coot, I don’t know who the exemplar preacher—the Yoda, if you will—is. But in any case, I’ve always used a different metaphor, that of chewing and digesting. I do have considerable experience at chewing, and I find great pleasure in it. And there’s always Jeremiah 15.16 to consider:

Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart: for I am called by thy name, O Lord God of hosts.

So there’s that.

End sidebar. ]

Paul’s primary prayer is straightforward:

We … do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding (Co 1.9).

The second infinitive, “to desire,” is, I think, simply a restatement of the first, “to pray.” (In Greek, the word “and” can often be translated “even,” as introducing an appositive, a restatement.) And what is that prayer, that desire? That they would know God’s will, or, more expansively, “be filled with the knowledge of his will.”

For the believer on the way to spiritual maturity, the essential thing is to be determined to live according to the will of God. That means, of course, not just knowing what God wants, but being oriented toward it (being “filled with it”) and then doing it. Paul is praying that they would obey God. That’s where it all starts.

And that’s why he immediately says, “in all wisdom and spiritual understanding.” These words have to do with more than just knowing. We must not picture the hypercranialized space aliens who just know all kinds of stuff and always win at “Jeopardy!” Wisdom and understanding have to do not so much with intellect, but with application: knowing how to use what you know to do practical things. I once read somewhere that knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable; but wisdom is knowing that you don’t put ketchup on ice cream.

It’s more extensive than that, of course; wisdom and understanding include creative thinking, problem-solving, and what Bloom called synthesis. It’s the opposite of the ivory tower. It’s the ability to get stuff done.

So if Paul is attaching the concept of wisdom to the knowledge of God’s will, he is praying for us to do what we know, to live out who God has designed us to be.

Well then. We begin here.

But how? How are we to know the will of God?

To the college students I’ve taught for many years, the will of God has to do with three w’s: what (is my career going to be), where (am I going to live), and who (am I going to marry). Those are important questions, of course, but the teaching on the will of God in the Bible doesn’t focus on that. It focuses instead on the kind of person you’re going to be. For example, Paul writes elsewhere,

This is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication (1Th 4.3).

And there’s more; grab your search software (or, if you’re over 75, your concordance—and a good magnifying glass) and have a field day.

God’s well-rounded people start every day, and the rest of their lives, with the question, “Based on what I know of the Bible, what does God want me to do?”

That’s a start.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Colossians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians, Part 1: Introduction

August 21, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Decades ago one of my professors (the late Charles W. Smith, for those who may remember him) suggested that a good way to study prayer was to focus on Paul’s prayers at the openings of his epistles. I took note of that and started noticing the kinds of things Paul prayed for his churches. I found then, and I still find, that my prayers, particularly the requests, could use a significant upgrade. 

Why the need? In my case, it was because I was focused on the wrong stuff—or at least, my focus was too narrow: help this sick person feel better, provide more money for this person or that ministry, that sort of thing. 

Paul, on the other hand, is focused like a laser beam on the Big Idea: the spiritual growth and well-being of those to whom he ministers. Along the way, he’s not just asking God for things; he’s instructing his readers (including us) as to what kinds of “things” we should be giving our attention to. 

I’d like to pursue this idea here by spending a few posts working through Paul’s prayer in the opening to Colossians. This follows naturally on my recent meditations on the supremacy of Christ as the firstborn, which Paul lays out in one portion of this prayer (Co 1.15). 

The prayer itself is in Colossians 1.9-12, but at the end of it he moves quickly past a comma to offer an extended reflection on the works of God in our salvation, for which we should be thankful—a reflection that runs through the end of the chapter. 

When taken as a whole, then, Paul’s prayer lays out the works of God in our salvation, works that cover every facet of our “inner man”—what we often call the heart, the mind, the psyche, the emotions, the wishes, the dreams. God does a complete renovation of the house that we call our selves (2Co 5.1). There is nothing in us that his work doesn’t touch. Hence the title of this series: “How God Makes Well-Rounded Christians.” 

Note the subject and verb. I don’t intend this series to be a list of more stuff ya gotta do, or a list of virtues for you to work on, a la Benjamin Franklin. This is work that God does in you; you can’t do it without him. 

But the Bible does indicate that although justification is monergistic (God does it without our help), sanctification, or growth in Christ-likeness, is synergistic: we play a role in making it happen, by God’s grace. (Even Calvinists teach that. Yes, they do.) For example, Peter speaks of “making effort” toward spiritual growth (2P 1.5). Paul speaks of “presenting our bodies” (Ro 12.1), of “bringing holiness to completion” (2Co 7.1), and of “working out our own salvation” (Php 2.12); the author of Hebrews speaks of “striving for … holiness” (He 12.14). 

So it’s wise stewardship to know the goals that God is working toward in us, and to be purposeful is seeking opportunities to work with him in developing the characteristics that will get us there. 

That’s one purpose of this series. There is a second. 

If any of us finds that these characteristics are missing—not just imperfect, but missing, strange, out of the ordinary—then it’s time to go back to the beginning and ask the big question. Has God begun a work in us by justifying us? We know that he has if we have repented and believed (Mk 1.15; Ac 3.19; Ro 5.1). But in Western “Christian” culture it’s easy, particularly for those raised in Christian homes, to just go along, be agreeable, give the right answer to the questions in Sunday school—but never genuinely repent. 

This series is chance for all of us to inspect our inner selves and ask, is God in fact sanctifying me? Am I making progress in Christ-likeness? 

If the answer is “No,” there’s a free and simple solution. 

Next time, we’ll begin looking at Paul’s prayer for his Colossian readers, and for us. 

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Colossians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology

On Discipline, Part 5: Mentors 

August 5, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Perspective | Part 2: Action | Part 3: Dependence | Part 4: Thought 

One more item in Paul’s list of areas we should give attention to and discipline: 

Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you (Php 4.9). 

He encourages the believers in Philippi—a church that he planted—to imitate his example, to follow his practices. These days we call such a person a mentor, and those who imitate him proteges. 

Some people might find this surprising. Isn’t this arrogant of Paul—especially since Christ is the only perfect example? 

Good point. And as it happens, Paul says that himself elsewhere: 

Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ (1Co 11.1). 

He’s clearly not placing his value as an example above that of Christ. 

I’ll note that Paul’s exhortation here indicates that he has been careful to set the kind of example that the Philippians should follow. He’s been helped in that, certainly by the fact that he’s an apostle, guided by the Spirit into all truth (Jn 16.13).  

Slight sidetrack: Many interpreters would apply Jn 16.13 to all believers. I don’t, because I know that I’m not guided into all truth, and as I tell my students, I have written documentation in a file cabinet in my office that they are not guided into all truth either. I think this is a promise to the apostles that they would be inerrant in their reporting of Jesus’ life and teachings—their proclamation of the gospel. This of course would come to us through the New Testament. But since only three men in the room in John 16 wrote any New Testament, I’m also inclined to believe that the rest of the apostles, though not sinless (Ga 2.11), were inerrant in their preaching—which makes Luke’s description of the Bereans all the more remarkable (Ac 17.11; but cf 1Th 2.13). 

But to return. 

Paul here encourages the Philippians to imitate his example. 

Might this exhortation have broader significance? Should we, two millennia after Paul’s death, imitate him too? It occurs to me that we’ll have a harder time doing so, since we can’t see Paul’s example in his day-to-day life, as the Philippians did. But there are certainly a good many things we can know about him, and those things we can imitate. 

But to go a step further. Can we take Paul’s words as a general endorsement of the concept of mentorship? There are a good many Christian books on discipleship that do just that, and I don’t see a reason to disagree with them. Paul’s teaching on spiritual gifts seems to imply strongly that all believers should sit under gifted teachers and should live exemplary lives before their church assemblies. 

So, I would suggest, we can all benefit from following the examples of exemplary believers. (The apparent redundancy there is intentional and is not actually redundant.) And Paul’s words here in verse 9 indicate that we should be careful whom we choose. 

I suppose it could go without saying that we should choose as models those who follow Christ well, consistently, carefully, graciously. We should choose them not because they’re popular, or good-looking, or socially adept. We should recognize something of the character of Christ in them and then seek to integrate that character trait into our own thinking and lifestyle. We should ask them questions, and we should listen to the answers. 

I suppose it’s worthwhile to insert a caution here. 

You and I are not called to be anybody else. God has made us all different, and he has gifted us to serve in ways that are the sum of our DNA, our upbringing, our experiences, our sanctification, and yes, our gifting. I’ve known Christians who want desperately to be just like somebody they admire, and those efforts always end in disappointment. We’re called to be ourselves, remade in the image of Christ. 

But we ought to follow examples, carefully chosen, in our lifelong journey to be like Christ. 

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

On Discipline, Part 4: Thought 

August 1, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Perspective | Part 2: Action | Part 3: Dependence 

The next area of discipline in Paul’s list is likely the toughest one for many people. 

 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things (Php 4.8). 

Here Paul calls for mental discipline: controlling what you think about. 

This is tough. 

We’re not used to that in our culture, and in recent years it’s only getting more difficult. We naturally tend to think about whatever pops into our head. Most often those things pop in from our daily circumstances—conversations, assigned tasks, and so on. Many of those things we don’t control; they just show up, and we think about them. 

But with the rise of social media, we’re being conditioned against mental discipline. Social media posts scroll by, and we think about them for 5 or 10 seconds, and we move on. We’re passive consumers of mental stimulation; it’s all up to the algorithms, and our thoughtful choices have nothing to do with what’s being poured into our brain bucket. There’s no discipline or self-control whatsoever; it’s just random dopamine hits. 

Yikes. 

But it gets worse. Neurological research indicates that the more we engage in this kind of media surfing, the less thinking we’re able to do; our brain rewires itself for “fast-twitch” thinking rather than long-form consideration of more complex ideas. If a paragraph consists of more than 9 or 10 lines, we’re not going to consume it thoughtfully; eventually we’ll just skip it altogether. (How many of the issues that we deal with in modern society can we think through in 5 or 10 seconds? We’re being conditioned against wisdom.) 

For more information on this concept, I highly recommend Nicholas Carr’s The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains. He brings serious research to the question. 

In this pervasively “fast-twitch” environment, we’re going to find it harder than ever to follow Paul’s admonition. In a culture where many people have no mental discipline, directing your thought anywhere in particular, let alone to specific areas, is going to seem strange and foreign. 

I’d suggest some practical things: 

  • Read, regularly and repeatedly. Of course, believers should read their Bibles as their primary source of spiritual nutrition. But any long-form reading will strengthen your mental discipline. (And no, the closed captions on movies are not long-form reading.) 
  • Memorize Scripture. Memorization requires repeated review (I have a system, and I hope you do too), which will enable you to bring to mind biblical content whenever you have some mental free time—while driving, walking, standing in line, and so on. 
  • Approach casual conversations thoughtfully. Sure, small talk has its place; but if your conversations at church are all about football or politics, they could use some discipline. Direct conversations to substantial things. “How can I pray for you?” is one way to start. 
  • Use “down time” thoughtfully. While you’re waiting to fall asleep at night, direct your thoughts. 

Paul includes here a list of things to think about. I’m not sure detailed word studies on each term are what he’s after; the list could be more of a random collection of examples than a to-do list. I doubt that once you’ve thought about his list of 8 things, he’d say you’re done. Think about anything excellent; think about anything praiseworthy. Think on purpose. 

Again, this is hard. We like to let our thoughts go wherever they take us. But they do take us places, and while “the power of positive thinking” isn’t a magical formula for personal success—“if you can believe it, you can achieve it!”—the way we think does make a difference in the progress and outcome of our living. It certainly makes a difference in our spiritual success, our sanctification. 

Think on these things. 

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

On Discipline, Part 3: Dependence 

July 29, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Perspective | Part 2: Action

Paul now turns to a third area where we need discipline:

6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Php 4.6-7).

People come in all varieties. Some are pretty self-confident; they think they can deal with whatever comes down the pike. Don’t need any help, thanks. I got this.

But if the truth be known, even those people worry. They think about how they’re going to deal with this issue or that, and even though they don’t want to ask anybody else for help, they still spend time on the mental merry-go-round, trying to figure out the next step.

And for others, it’s even more difficult. Worry becomes anxiety, and fear dominates their thinking.

This is the human condition.

And if we humans are merely the peak of evolutionary development, with no one higher to look to, then we’re doomed to a lifetime of anxiety.

But we’re not, and we’re not.

There is a higher throne. And Paul points us there.

Don’t worry about anything, he says.

What? Don’t worry about where the rent’s coming from? About progressive degenerative disease? About broken relationships? About societal ills? About nuclear holocaust?

That’s just crazy.

No, my friend. It’s crazy only if we’re all there is.

But there is a God, and he is infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth. And further, he loves us, and he invites us to bring our anxieties to him and leave them there.

He can provide the rent money, and grace to face the physical ravages of time, and relational healing, and societal peace. And he can prevent nuclear holocaust, in his good will.

Bring your requests.

I note that Paul returns to his earlier theme of thanksgiving, or rejoicing. How can we be thankful even as we recount our troubles at the throne?

Because God hears, and he responds, and always in a way that is good and wise, wiser even than the “solutions” we can suggest to him. Beyond all that we can ask or think.

Paul follows his imperative with a promise. If we’ll do what he says, then God will bring peace to our troubled hearts—peace, he says, that surpasses all understanding.

I used to think that that meant that it’s so wonderful that we can’t understand it. But I don’t think that’s it. It surpasses understanding; when our understanding has taken us as far as it can, and it runs out of gas, the peace of God takes over and keeps us going, as far as we need to go. We find that we don’t need to know it all, to understand everything that God is doing. We know him, we trust him, and we just keep going.

Paul adds one last thought. This peace he says, is not passive; it’s active. And the verb he chooses is instructive: it guards our hearts and minds. You know, that place where the anxiety comes from? The wellspring of all our fears? The peace of God stands as a sentinel at the door, muscular and armed, and it denies entry to the dangerous stuff.

So we have a choice.

We can give in to the anxiety, trying to work things out for ourselves, despite the fact that there are all kinds of things that we don’t know and can’t do.

Or we can trust the sentinel standing outside the door of our hearts, as we work diligently and wisely during the day and sleep well at night.

That shouldn’t be a difficult decision.

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

On Discipline, Part 2: Action 

July 25, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Perspective 

Here in Philippians 4, we’re surveying a list of areas that we ought to discipline as we live out our faith in Christ. In the previous post, we noted that we should discipline our perspective to be joyful, rejoicing in whatever comes our way (Php 4.4). We turn now to the second Item in Paul’s list. 

 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand (Php 4.5). 

You may know that the KJV renders the key word “moderation.” There’s great breadth in the various reliable versions: “gentle spirit” (NASB), “graciousness” (CSB), “gentleness” (NIV). The standard Greek lexicon (BDAG) suggests “yielding, gentle, kind, courteous, tolerant.” I think we get the idea. There seems to be general idea of others-centeredness, of unselfishness, of lesser concern with one’s own rights than for the rights or needs—or even desires—of others. 

Paul says this characteristic of ours should “be known to everyone.” How does that happen? Well, practically speaking, it can happen only when this is our default—whatever we do, in whatever circumstances, with whatever kinds of people, we’re gentle, kind, courteous, tolerant. This is just the way we always act. 

That’s a tough order. It’s easy for most of us to be kind and cordial with people we like, or those who are first kind to us. But the situation is very different when someone is rude, or hostile, or childish, or self-centered. It is not my inclination, or yours, to be kind or courteous in those situations. 

How often do we see that kind of spirit in operation in our culture? How often, rather, do we see some people mocking those they disagree with—“libtards” or “snowflakes” or “RINOs” or “MAGAs”? How often do we ourselves engage in that kind of mocking and ridicule? 

Oh, but in my case it’s justified, you see, because that idiot deserved it, because he was rude to me first, or he’s a tool of the deep state, or he’s a threat to democracy. Or he’s just stupid.

Oh, no, my friend. Let your gentle default mode of action be known to everyone. There are no riders or qualifiers there. 

Let me suggest that our current polarized culture presents us with a rare opportunity to have our calm, gentle, kindness stand out from the angry, pugilistic, chaotic background of polarization and rage. When everyone is running to and fro, the one who’s sitting calmly amidst the chaos reading a book stands out; he’s impossible to miss. And in our culture the simplest act of kindness, the slightest evidence of care and attention, screams louder than all the surrounding noise. 

What a way to make a difference. What a way to be an ambassador. 

Paul’s seals the importance of this discipline with a terse observation: “The Lord is near.” 

To what is he referring here? 

The word near here is a common word, one that can refer to either time or space. 

  • Is he saying that the Lord is spatially near, as in omnipresent? “O be careful little mouth what you say”? 
  • Or that he is temporally near: coming back soon? “O, can we say we are ready, brother”? 

In his epistles Paul uses the word in both senses (Ep 2.13; Ro 13.11). In Jesus’ teaching he tends to use the word temporally, mostly because he’s frequently teaching about the nearness of his Coming. But when he says, “The Kingdom of God is at hand,” is it possible that he means to imply both? 

I don’t see a reason to restrict the word here to either sense; either or both can serve as motivation for us to do better at this.  

  • The Lord is indeed near us, both as a deterrent to sin and as a source of power for victory. In ourselves we cannot live this way consistently, but our God is near to us. 
  • The Lord is indeed coming soon, to deliver us from all the frustrations that so vex us now. That means that as vexing as these confrontations are, they are temporary; and knowing that can relieve us of much of the pressure to collapse. 

Live out grace, kindness, courtesy. By default. To everybody—especially to the really challenging everybodies. 

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

On Discipline, Part 1: Perspective 

July 22, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

No, I’m not referring to child-rearing, but to how we discipline ourselves. It’s a truism that if you aim at nothing, you’ll certainly hit it. Pretty much everybody understands that you have to set goals, and then persist in pursuing them, in order to accomplish anything worthwhile. 

There’s a whole industry of advisors, people who are happy to coach you on making the best of life—whether on the secular side or on the spiritual. Reading these works discerningly and thoughtfully can be highly profitable. 

More reliably, though, the Scripture addresses this topic extensively. A series of blog posts is not the place for a comprehensive survey of the biblical theology of personal discipline, but it’s reasonable to focus on a single passage that concentrates on the idea. 

I find such a passage in Philippians 4. It’s a concise presentation, and a familiar one; many Christians have memorized the passage, or at least parts of it. In verses 4-9, I find a list of five aspects of our lifestyle—what the King James translators called “conversation”—that we ought to discipline in certain ways. Lord willing, I’ll devote a post to each of the five. 

The section opens with Paul’s goal for his (and our) perspective: 

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice (Php 4.4). 

Our view of things, he says, should be consistently joyful. 

Several things to note about that. 

First, this is Paul writing. He has not had an easy life; as he has already noted in this short epistle, he has sacrificed early professional success to follow Jesus (Php 3.4-11), and a few years earlier he has listed for the church in Corinth a litany of hardship (2Co 11.23-29). Even as he writes these words, he is under house arrest in Rome, waiting for a hearing before Caesar that threatens capital punishment. He is not speaking platitudes. 

Second, he is writing to Philippi, a church founded out of a night in prison, an earthquake, and government opposition (Ac 16.13-40). He is about to say that this church has already given sacrificially to support his ministry from a distance (Php 4.16). There is nothing flippant or casual about what he is asking them to do. 

Rejoice, he says. No, I really mean it, he repeats. 

And furthermore, rejoice all the time. 

Rejoice in the good times; rejoice in the bad. Rejoice in success; rejoice in failure. 

Rejoice in house arrest. Rejoice in the inner prison. 

Interestingly, Paul lives that out. He has already written here that his arrest has yielded good things (Php 1.12-14), and he will go on to say that there are now saints in Caesar’s household (Php 4.22)—though we don’t know whether they became saints as a direct result of his appeal to Caesar. 

Now for the fifty-dollar question—how does he do it? How does Paul rejoice in the midst of suffering and injustice greater than you (probably) or I have ever experienced? And by extension, how are we to “rejoice … always”? 

The ellipsis provides the answer: “rejoice in the Lord always.” 

There’s a lot packed into that tiny prepositional phrase. 

What does it mean to “rejoice in the Lord”? 

At its purest, it means simply to rejoice in God himself—who he is, and what he does. Meditation on him brings great delight. 

But God knows that we are dust, and he understands that we are consistently motivated by self-interest. He graciously works benefits to us, in which we can then rejoice. The blessings of salvation are profitable topics for meditation, as are answers to prayer. (Sidebar: if you don’t pray much, or at all, you’re depriving yourself of the joy that comes from seeing prayers answered.) The confidence that comes from following his will, even through valleys (Ps 23.4), is reason to rejoice. It’s a great gift to know that, really, everything’s going to be OK, and the hard times will eventuate in great good. 

So our first step of discipline, according to this passage, is in our perspective: we discipline ourselves to see all things as causes for rejoicing. 

This is life-changing. 

More next time. 

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians, sanctification, soteriology, systematic theology

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