I have to look for cracks and crevices.
Don’t tell me how God’s mercy
Is as wide as the ocean, as deep as the sea.
I already believe it, but that infinite prospect
Gets farther away the more we mouth it.
I thank you for lamenting his absences—
His absence from marriages going mad,
Our sons dying young, from the inescapable
Terrors of history: Treblinka. Vietnam.
September Eleven. His visible absence
Makes it hard for us in our time
To celebrate his invisible Presence.

This must be why mystics and poets record
The slender incursions of splintered light,
Echoes, fragments, odd words and phrases
Like flashes through darkened hallways.
These stabs remind me that the proud
Portly old church is really only
That cut green slip grafted into a tiny nick
That merciful God himself slit into the stem
Of his chosen Judah. The thin and tenuous
Thread we hang by, so astonishing,
Is the metaphor I need at the shoreline
Of all those immeasurable oceans of love.

-Rod Jellema

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago but for some reason didn’t get to post it. This is Part 2 of a series of reflections on things that bother me about my generation (and subsequently, about myself).

Part 1 was about how we tend to be overly obsessive about journeying through life’s stages without being too concerned with our destination. Our fascination with newness is a gut-reaction toward previous generations’ focus on oldness. Whereas previous generations emphasized religious tradition or the deification of reason, our emerging generation asks, “Where did that get us?” resulting in a “we don’t care” mentality. And that sort of mentality leads to our seeking the middle ground in all things.

The middle ground is the new standard. It discourages lengthy debates and strong opinions, unless of course these debates and opinions are held against representations of the previous generation. Our generation is united in our rebellion against the older generation’s issues (i.e.,”Where did that get us?”). So the middle ground is the new moral high ground. But it’s not the high ground–it’s mediocrity.

My generation of Christians also seek the middle ground. We see extremes like conservatism and liberalism and say, “It’s not good to be either, so I’ll just be in-between.” So then you’ve got people who don’t cuss (against liberalism) but then also don’t care about spreading the Gospel (against conservatism), or you’ve got people who don’t engage in premarital sex (against liberalism) but enjoy music with tons of sexual content (against conservatism). The Gospel is not the fine line between conservatism and liberalism — it’s the freedom to do what’s right according to one’s Word-informed conscience with Christ-exalting heart motives.

A growing number of Christians find themselves in the tiresome tension between legalism and liberalism. We know conservatism (of the legalistic variety) is wrong, but don’t know any other way to feel like we’re growing in holiness. So either we return to legalism or we fall into liberalism, saying, “Oh well, if God wants to change me he will do it on his own.” I see most young Christians going in this second direction, while the older generation tends toward legalism.

The other option is not a tension between legalism and licentiousness, but it is still a tension. It’s the tension between radical holiness and radical pardon. It’s about knowing God’s holy standards with regard to sin and righteousness, but also God’s holy provision for sin and righteousness in Christ. Jesus says our righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees. It has to be more radical than the righteousness born of legalism. It has to be born of the Gospel. It has to come from a heart continually being melted by the grace of God in the Gospel.

Reflect on the words of this hymn “Why Should I Fear?” by William Williams:

Verse 1
My soul, thou art emerged in sin,
So deep that none can trace;
Look to the ransom God decreed
To clear the guilty race.

Chorus
Had I the guilt of all the world,
He’s able to forgive:
Why should I fear? The debt is paid.
If only I believe.

Verse 2
The atonement once made on the tree,
Can balance many more
Than all the sins of Adam’s race,
If numbered over and over.

Verse 3
He paid the mighty sum and died
For sinners yet unborn;
From men, the works of his own hands,
He suffered shame and scorn.

I started reading through Herman Bavinck’s Essays on Religion, Science, and Society last Friday. Much of his writings (including his Reformed Dogmatics) cover the intersection of theology with philosophy and culture. In that sense, he is thoroughly Reformed. Surprisingly, his insights into modern thought are still as timely as they were when he first recorded them.

In his essay “The Philosophy of Religion,” he surveys philosophers such as Kant, Rosseau, and Hegel, showing how they all tended to limit religion to “one human faculty,” emphasizing either the rational, mystical, or ethical.  But biblical revelation does not give us license to emphasize one over the other.  He proposes, “if we want to do full justice to religion, we must return to the central unity in man . . . which in Holy Scripture is often designated the heart, from which proceed all expressions of life in mind, feeling, and will.”  In other words, don’t limit your interactions with God to only one realm of life. Don’t compartmentalize God!

God is grieved when we relegate him to our habits of study, prayer, or duty. It is as if we only wish to make him Lord over those particular areas of our lives. That’s why God becomes irrelevant to so many people who are interested in art, politics, leisure, health, social justice, technology, marriage, etc. That’s why when people think of sold-out Christians all that comes to mind are people who read their Bible, read theology, pray, and try to be good.

Bavinck laments the failure of post-reformation theologians to bring the reformed worldview to bear on all of life:

It is even surprising how little the principle of faith that people confessed was developed in different directions or applied to various areas of life in the centuries of orthodoxy. After a time of struggle, when a firm doctrine was established, there soon appeared a traditional dogmatics. Later theologians simply agreed with the earlier pronouncements and naively copied them. Hardly anyone felt a need for development. They rested on the laurels that the fathers had achieved, keeping what they had, but they did not sufficiently consider continuing reformation. That is why in our century there is so much for Reformed peoplt o do, not only academically but also practically.

I know, the title sounds completely arrogant and self-righteous. Hope you read this anyway.

Usually when someone writes a diatribe against young people in any culture, it tends to come from the assumption that oldness — a commitment to anything traditional or old-fashioned — is superior to the new. Just so you know, I’m not that guy.

Actually, I disdain oldness for a very specific reason related to my disappointment with my generation. Oldness is all about preserving the culture of the past for the sake of it being how it used to be. Contrast that with newness — a commitment to anything progressive or counter-cultural. Oldness is concerned with what is believed to be tried and true, but newness is concerned with experimentation or trial-and-error.

My disdain of oldness is that its proponents have touted the tried but untrue, resulting in the emergence of a new generation committed to aimlessness and triviality. The old generation consisted of truth-seekers, while my generation consists of wanderers who embrace the idea of journeying but have no intention of reaching a destination.

If you think about it both are forms of trendiness, which the progressive counter-culture allegedly rejects but doesn’t. Both stifle creativity, being more reactionary than trailblazing. Both find their identity and thrive in rejecting one another, but this also means they can never exist without one another. All the while, oldness knows that it is old. Newness, on the other hand, is a hypocrite.

This is a philosophical conundrum. Culture is constantly moving between the polar opposites of newness and oldness. Do we forge ahead or return to old paths? If we return to old paths, we hinder good progress. If we continue to forge ahead, how many more creative forms of sin must we construct before we feel satisfied in our novelty? This is an issue our postmodern culture is currently facing, which is why postmodern culture gravitates toward retrofitting things of the past (e.g., Nintendo emulators on iPhones).

Where are we headed in the future? Cultural analysts love asking that question, but they’re asking the wrong question. The question they should be asking is, “Where will we end up?” The question of where we’re headed is concerned with the journeying and not necessarily the destination. But if there is no destination or no way to get there, then why journey to begin with? The point is that the soul’s ache for creativity, journeying, and forging ahead means that we are created and designed for a destination.

The worldview of the Bible answers this conundrum. Proponents of oldness love to quote the Bible in their defense of oldness, but did you know that the Bible is infinitely far more progressive than postmodern culture will ever be? The Bible not only calls us to return to old paths for the sake of their being old, but because those old paths point to a Creator God who is the originator of all that is new (e.g., Isa 42:9, 43:19, 48:6; Ps 98:1, 33:3, 40:3, 96:1, 149:1).

God is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning (of oldest old) and the end (of newest new). He is outside of time, meaning that he is not bound by time. As such, he is the only one who is truly able to bring newness to bear on the old. While we merely reinvent, he recreates. If we truly wanted to be progressive, we would go with him instead of constantly trying to rehash ourselves and our cultures in search of some semblance of a new identity.

One of my highlights at the NEXT conference was Kevin DeYoung’s message on the life of Christ (audio here).

DeYoung walked us through Luke 8:22-56 where Jesus rebukes a storm, delivers a demoniac, heals a hemorrhaging (thus ceremonially unclean) woman, and resuscitates a dead girl. Such miraculous signs are meant to point us to the greater reality of Christ’s identity as divine Lord. The application of this truth is simple, yet profound: Tremble!

I was reminded of something I’ve grown quite familiar with: Jesus is holy. He is our friend, our elder brother, and our merciful high priest. But he is also the majestic Lord to whom we owe fullest obedience. DeYoung told us, “He is more frightening than you think . . . you may not know Jesus if you’ve never trembled before him.” Jesus’ rebuking the storm and causing it to cease had the effect terrifying his disciples, leading them to conclude that this same man with whom they’ve shared intimate fellowship isn’t exactly safe to be around.

Since that evening, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on what it means to take on the heart-posture of trembling before King Jesus. It means Jesus is not merely cute or cool or my homeboy. It means I do not merely “dabble” in the activities of one who seeks to know and serve him. If there is no holy awe and reverence in my relating to him, then I am guilty of idolatry of the worst kind. Not only do I bow before that which is not God, but I take God’s divine name and ascribe it to a figment of my own imagination.

But to acknowledge such miracles is somehow not enough to cause me to tremble before him. There is a reality far more astonishing than the obedience of a storm, a demon, a sickness, or even death itself. Greater cause for trembling is found in beholding the crucifixion of this holy King.

The wrath of God has fallen upon this holy Son of God! That wrath which is revealed throughout the pages of Scripture against all ungodliness and unrighteousness has fallen on him who is infinitely holy and deserving of worship. Unless I see this, I will not draw near to God in repentance and faith. The crucifixion of God’s holy Son requires my trembling, or else I have no part in its benefits! May I not be too happy in the world to see, mourn, and tremble before the cross of Christ!

After about 3 months or so without any real updates (besides quotes), I think my summer break from school will give me more time to post on here. So uh, here goes…

I probably shouldn’t feel like this, but coming back to this blog is a bit like picking up an old book I could never finish reading (I’ve got plenty of those on my bookshelves) or like some unfinished work of art. Sometimes, that’s what life looks like too. Maybe in the future I’ll look back at this blog and realize how foolish and scatterbrained I was. But good news, when I look back at my life I will see the fingerprints of God’s providence on every memory recorded.

Last semester was tough for a variety of reasons. For one, school kept me busy. But also, thoughts about the future gave me more anxiety than I’ve ever experienced. Right now I feel an immense peace about it all. I realize I’ve been foolish to try to discern all of the details concerning God’s will for my future in pastoral ministry. It seems most if not all guys who enter into pastoral ministry are surprised by where God takes them. I think I’d like to be surprised too. I’m going to trust God to do that.

I just returned from the NEXT conference. The whole conference was centered on the person and work of Jesus. I’ve never been to a event more explicitly Christ-exalting than this one. We learned about Christ’s pre-eminence, incarnation, life, death, resurrection, and return. The teachers were so disciplined in their preparation and delivery. The line up was outstanding: Josh Harris, D. A. Carson, Kevin DeYoung, C. J. Mahaney, and Sinclair Ferguson. Hopefully I’ll post some quotes later on.

Right now I’m in VA staying with my family and catching up with some friends. Then it’s back down to Orlando on Saturday!

I got this e-mail from Catalyst, written by Francis Chan. A good (and challenging) thought to start off the morning.

Try to be COMPLETELY honest with yourself right now. Is the following true of you?

You passionately love Jesus, but you don’t really want to be like Him. You admire His humility, but you don’t want to be THAT humble. You think it’s beautiful that He washed the feet of the disciples, but that’s not exactly the direction your life is headed. You’re thankful He was spit upon and abused, but you would never let that happen to you. You praise Him for loving you enough to suffer during His whole time on earth, but you’re going to do everything within your power to make sure you enjoy your time down here.

In short: You think He’s a great Savior, but not a great role model.

The American church has abandoned the most simple and obvious truth of what it means to follow Jesus: You actually follow His pattern of life. I pray for those who read this article- that we don’t become cynical or negative toward the church. Instead, let’s make a personal decision to stop talking so much and begin living like Jesus. Then we can say as the apostle Paul, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1). My guess is that you’ve never had someone say that to you, and you’ve never said it to anyone else. Why Not?

I don’t regularly crave McDonald’s. I think it’s a sign of my spiritual maturity (just kidding).

I only eat McD’s in good company because it’s a completely different experience from eating it alone. I can never get myself to enjoy eating a filet-o-fish on my own, but it tastes twice as good whenever I eat it with others. Then it becomes a feast.

I’ve heard that if you want to get someone else hungry, the quickest and most effective is to eat in front of them. I’ve also heard that this principle applies to the Bible. Reading it, learning from it, applying it, and enjoying it has to be modeled.

I used to always hear that sort of statement and think, “Gee, I’d better start reading my Bible more so that I can inspire spiritual hunger in others.” But that’s missing the point. The point is not, “Read the Bible more!” Rather, watch others eat!

Yesterday one of the visiting professors from RTS Atlanta, John Yeo, shared his experiences learning from the late Edmund Clowney at WTS California. He told us Clowney would cry often as he walked through the pages of the Old Testament and showed the students how every passage points to Christ. Clowney was anything but a dry scholar during his time on earth. His love for Jesus and his enjoyment of God’s Word was infectious!

Luke 24 records a 7-mile walk with Jesus and two disciples after the resurrection. The disciples didn’t recognize who was walking with them until he led them in the most engaging Bible study ever. Verse 27 says, “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.” Later on after he left them, the disciples turned to one another and said, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?” (v. 32).

Couldn’t have said it better than D. A. Carson:

God is the sovereign, transcendent and personal God who has made the universe, including us, his image-bearers. Our misery lies in our rebellion, our alienation from God, which, despite his forbearance, attracts his implacable wrath. But God, precisely because love is of the very essence of his character, takes the initiative and prepared for the coming of his own Son by raising up a people who, by covenantal stipulations, temple worship, systems of sacrifice and of priesthood, by kings and by prophets, are taught something of what God is planning and what he expects. In the fullness of time his Son comes and takes on human nature. He comes not, in the first instance, to judge but to save: he dies the death of his people, rises from the grave and, in returning to his heavenly Father, bequeaths the Holy Spirit as the down payment and guarantee of the ultimate gift he has secured for them—an eternity of bliss in the presence of God himself, in a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness. The only alternative is to be shut out from the presence of this God forever, in the torments of hell. What men and women must do, before it is too late, is repent and trust Christ; the alternative is to disobey the gospel.

D. A. Carson. “The Biblical Gospel.” Pages 75–85 in For Such a Time as This: Perspectives on Evangelicalism, Past, Present and Future. Edited by Steve Brady and Harold Rowdon. London: Evangelical Alliance, 1996.

Imagine this. Imagine waking up one day to news reports that droves of people from all ages and socioeconomic backgrounds in your city are suddenly coming to faith in Christ and experiencing radical change.

What would that look like? Furthermore, what would you assume to be the cause?

In the 1790s, revival broke out in Northampton, CT under the ministry of Jonathan Edwards. And apart from this blog post’s title, you’d never be able to guess what caused it. Historian Stephen J. Nichols records the following:

…there was a most unexpected work of God in converting a particular person in Edwards’s own town of Northampton. He discreetly refers to her as a “company keeper,” which more than likely meant that she was a prostitute . . .

He, however, feared that the congregation would not rejoice with her but instead look upon her with contempt. Again he was surprised: “The event was the reverse, to a wonderful degree; God made it, I suppose, the greatest occasion of awakening to others, of anything that ever came to pass in the town.” Edwards makes a rather self-effacing comment, attributing the revivals not to his own preaching so much as to this unlikely instrument used by God. In his view, the display of grace in this anonymous woman’s life sparked the revival.

He summarizes the immediate effect of her conversion when he writes, “Presently upon this, a great and earnest concern about the great things of religion and the eternal world became universal in all parts of the town, and among persons of all degrees and all ages; the noise amongst the dry bones waxed louder and louder.”

–Stephen Nichols, Jonathan Edwards: A Guided Tour of His Life and Thought

The cause? A prostitute.

More importantly, what did this revival look like?

Using the terms of the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15), one of the highest marks of revival is when prodigal sons come home and are embraced by their elder brothers. It is a miracle in itself that the prodigal would come home, but it is a far greater miracle that such a prodigal would be accepted and elder brothers would be stirred out of their complacency.

That’s what true revival looks like. God’s grace melts the heart of both the religious and the irreligious, and they are reconciled to one another to celebrate the redemption and forgiveness of sins that has come through Jesus Christ.

That’s also what should’ve happened in the Parable of the Prodigal Son! Instead, when the Father threw a party for his long lost son, the elder brother moped and complained, publicly insulting his Father by refusing to join the party. Does that remind you of anything?

Part 1 was about Adam needing Eve to complete him. Part 2 was about how Adam needs Eve — not to use her but to love her as the best part of who he is. In doing so, he is loving her in the best way possible: to love her as he loves himself.

When the religious authorities of Jesus’s day asked him what the greatest commandment was, he gave them the first two greatest commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” And then he told them that all the other commands are founded on those two (Matt 22:34-40).

It is interesting to note that the religious authorities were originally asking Jesus about marriage. Perhaps Jesus had Adam and Eve in mind when he was answering their question about the greatest commandment.

That could either be speculation, or I could also be on to something.

Why didn’t Jesus just give the first commandment? Why give both the first and the second?

I think it’s because these two loves (love for God and love for neighbor) are so tied to one another that they can’t be thought of as separate acts. It’s impossible to love God unless we love our neighbors as ourselves.

In part 2, I shared how God made humanity in his image as male and female. Could it be that the sacrificial, “as-yourself” kind of love shared between Adam and Eve as well as all other husbands and wives reflect the nature of God’s love in its most essential form? Could it be that the degree to which we understand humanity as the image of God is the degree to which we will learn how to see the opposite sex as we were meant to see one another?

It would explain a lot.

For starters, men are known to treat women like dirt, like sex objects to be robbed of their dignity. I think that has a lot to do with our failure to see men and women alike in the image of God, and to see the value in that.

To bring it closer to home, it’s difficult for any guy to watch pornography if they’re deeply aware that the person on the screen is God’s image. Every guy should be confronted with this reality, as if God were saying to them, “You’re going to do that to my image?”

Next post in this series: How Adam failed to love Eve, and why there is still hope for the redemption of human sexuality…

Part 1 was about how Adam sees Eve as the companion that completes him.

This goes deeper than mere sentimentality. Apart from her, he can’t be the image of God. Genesis 1:27 says, “…in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Commenting on this verse Calvin says that it is “as if he had said that the man himself was incomplete.”

There’s  an important question that needs to be raised here: Was Adam being selfish? After all it seems wrong for any man to say, “I need to find a woman so that I can become who I am!” What about respecting her individuality? What about who she is?

But what is more honoring to a woman? Disregard or esteem? The first says, “She’s on her own,” but the second says, “She’s my queen!” The first says, “I’ll have nothing to do with her” but the second says, “We’re literally joined at the hip!”

Adam called Eve “bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (Gen 2:23). Some say that the phrase “bone of my bones” and “flesh of my flesh” parallels the phrases “king of kings” or “lord of lords.” Perhaps Adam was saying that Eve was the best part of who he was. She is the “excellent wife” who is “the crown of her husband” (Pro 12:4).

Adam didn’t need Eve in order to use her, but to love her as himself. The implications for this understanding of sexuality are far-reaching and will require at least three more posts…

Do you ever wonder what Adam felt like when he saw Eve for the first time?

What sort of thoughts raced through his mind and what did he feel in his heart as he spent time with her in the garden prior to their temptation and fall into sin?

Maybe you’ve heard the typical answers to those questions (e. g. Adam’s jaw dropped at the sight of Eve’s beauty, they enjoyed pure and untainted sexual freedom with one another, etc). Those things are definitely true, but that’s not the main focus of how Adam sees Eve in Genesis 2.

Genesis 2:23 records the first lines of poetry ever uttered by a human being. Eve’s beauty stunned Adam, causing him to break out into song. But the song Adam sang wasn’t another one of those  “Dang girl, you be lookin’ foine!” R&B jams. There was much deeper meaning found in Adam’s rejoicing.

He exclaims, “This at last!” Whenever I read it, I think of the first few lines from that popular ’60’s hit “At Last.” Just look at the lyrics: “At last my love has come along, my lonely days are over and life is like a song!”

The context of Genesis 2 sets Adam up as a man in need. Someone vulnerable… lacking… incomplete. After the creation account in Genesis 1 where God declares all his creation as good, the tape rewinds and the camera zooms in on the creation of humanity. God soon declares, “It is not good that man should be alone” (Gen 2:18).

Vulnerable, lacking, incomplete… unfinished, not whole, not truly himself as the image of God… not good! No wonder when God brings Eve to Adam he says, “At last!” There’s a finality to his speech. Eve was literally the one he’d been waiting for his entire life. Only Adam could say that and truly mean it!

The footnote in Calvin’s Commentary interprets it this way: “This living creature (זאת) which at the present time (הפעם) passes before me, is the companion which I need.”

Stay tuned for Part 2: How Adam sees Eve as the companion he needs, and why it matters!

Sovereign Grace Ministries is hosting the Next 2009 Conference (formerly known as New Attitude) from May 23 to 26 in Baltimore, MD. It’s a conference for singles, college students, and young married couples. Here’s the description from the website:

The vision of Next is to gather worshipers of Jesus Christ who burn with a passion to see the gospel transferred to the next generation. Next is about faithfully receiving the gospel—the message of Christ and him crucified–from those who have gone before us, holding fast to the gospel personally, and passing the gospel on to those coming after us.

Speakers include D. A. Carson, C. J. Mahaney, and Sinclair Ferguson (sweet!).

For those of you in the VA/DC/MD area, get a group together and go! I’d love to see you there! Registration is open until May 10. It’s definitely worth the money!

You know what gives me a good laugh?

I laugh when people see the color of my skin and my Asian features and then try to compliment me by saying, “Wow, I’m surprised at how you’re able to speak English so well!” I rarely think fast enough to respond to that sort of thing right away, but when I go home I close my door and tell that nagging echo gnawing away at my self-worth to stop patronizing me.

I laugh because there have been times when I’ve believed the audacious lie that I was someone special, a minority who is a cut above the rest, like one of those smart minorities, not even a minority really. More like us than them. What’s that supposed to mean anyway?

I remember what it was like in my high school creative writing class, where we all had to write a variety of stories and prose and poetry. I felt like a celebrity there. I could be as counter-cultural and raw and honest as my imagination would let me. I could speak freely about my beliefs. My classmates didn’t always agree with me, but they respected me. Still, I never thought to open my eyes to the idea that maybe all the applause was because of something so minor.

Maybe all I needed was someone brave enough to tell me, “You’re not all that good.”

You know who will never patronize me? God. For God knows me most deeply and, irrespective of my outward features, judges the thoughts and intentions of my heart.

He receives me in a way that no one else can. When others love me on the basis of something outside of me that only appears to define me, God loves me on the basis of something outside of me that truly does define me. What matters most about me has nothing to do with me. Only God can truly affirm me, because all others will continue to fail to see me as I truly am.

The gospel says that I am far more sinfully flawed than I could ever dare to believe (or anyone ever had the courage to see in me!) and yet I am deeply far more accepted and loved by God in Christ than I could ever dare to hope!

Trevin Wax offers thought-provoking perspective on President Obama’s inaugural speech. Before you read anything else, let me make clear that he’s not bashing our new President, as some may be quick to accuse him of. He says,

…we as Americans are facing the rise of a new national sin – one that is more subtle and even deadlier than the sins of our past – one that is common to all other empires that have risen and fallen throughout the ages: A smug sense of self-righteous superiority that usurps the rightful throne of God. . . . the truly troubling aspect of the new era we have just inaugurated is the underlying assumption among so many in our country that now, finally, we have truly arrived. A new age has dawned!

The Greeks had a well-known word to refer to that sort of sin. They called it hubris. They believed that those who were guilty of hubris would eventually eat their own words somehow. Hindus, Sikhs, and Buddhists would place it in the category of karma, although karma more narrowly defined involves reciprocity (“What goes around comes around”). Ancient Israel’s king Solomon put it this way: “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before the fall” (Pro 16:18).

All of this reminds me of Fahrenheit 451, a book written by Ray Bradbury in the 1960s. It’s a fictional story set in the future in which reading is illegal. Reading certainly isn’t illegal in our day, but you think we’d have learned our lesson by now after seeing civilization after civilization built up and eventually torn down after giving themselves over to hubris. Read this quote from the protagonist, Guy Montag, and tell me he isn’t being prophetic:

We’ve started and won two atomic wars since 1990! Is it because we’re having so much fun at home we’ve forgotten the world? Is it because we’re so rich and the rest of the world’s so poor and we just don’t care if they are? I’ve heard rumors; the world is starving, but we’re well fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we’re hated so much? I’ve heard the rumors about hate, too, once in a long while, over the years. Do you know why? I don’t, that’s sure! Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave. They just might stop us from making the same damn insane mistakes! (pp. 73-74)

How relevant! We’ve won wars. We’re the most entertainment-driven culture the world has ever seen. We’re far more rich than the majority of the world, even with the current state of our economy. Turn on the evening news, and you’ll see very little about what’s going on in the rest of the world. Montag speaks the truth. Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave.

John Piper recalls a sermon he preached in 1993 prior to Clinton’s inauguration, titled “Being Pro-Life Christians Under a Pro-Choice President.” There are many issues President-Elect Obama will have to face head on, including the abortion issue. Today we celebrate his inauguration as the 44th President of the United States. May we honor him today by expecting much of him as our nation’s leader under God.

We will honor you by expecting from you straightforward answers to straightforward questions. We would not expect this from a con-man, but we do expect it from an honorable man. . . . You have immense power as President of the United States. To wield it against the protection of the unborn without giving a public accounting in view of moral and scientific reality would be dishonorable. We will honor you by expecting better.

By the way, I get an inkling that many Christians (or many who disagree with President-Elect Obama’s politics in general) speaking critical words about President-Elect Obama are doing so with animosity. This astounds me, and it also perturbs me that so many would’ve willingly handed out their trust and praise to Sen. McCain had he been elected. My message to them: Stop being sore losers.

On the one hand, some people uncritically praise President-Elect Obama by virtue of who he is: his personality, his charisma, his views, etc. On the other hand, some people critically oppose him by failing to give him the respect due to him as our next President. Neither are truly honoring the man.

One of my favorite scenes from Band of Brothers was when Maj. Winters saluted lower-ranked Capt. Sobel, who used to be his commanding officer. Capt. Sobel should’ve responded immediately by saluting his superior, but hesitated and looked away in shame. Maj. Winters called him out on it by saying, “Capt. Sobel, we salute the rank — not the man.” If you get a chance, be sure to watch it:

When we honor our 44th President, we must do so in respect of the title and office as it has been granted to him by God. By God’s grace, let us honor him rightly with unwavering support, faithfully praying that he will uphold the dignity and value of this new position as our nation’s President!

One of my professors at RTS, John Frame, was recently asked what he would pray if given the opportunity to do so at President-Elect Obama’s inauguration. I’ve quoted his prayer below, dividing it into several sections (he submitted it as one long paragraph).

We pray to you our creator, the mighty king of kings and lord of lords, who governs all things that come to pass and rules over all the nations. You raise up rulers and cast them down at your own pleasure, in the pursuit of your just and merciful purposes.

We thank you for the freedom we have to worship you, sought by the founders of this nation, freedom you have given to us through the righteous laws of this land. So we call on you to be with us again during this new era.

Be with our new president and all the leaders of this country, that they may be willing to hear the wisdom of your word and thus may image your justice, mercy, and integrity in their public life. As the one who remains constant throughout history, and yet who ordains change from each moment to the next, move our leaders to know how to maintain the foundations of our nation, while changing to meet the demands of new situations. Be our rock, when so much is changing in our lives.

We pray for those families whose loved ones have died in defense of our country, and we pray for the young men and women who continue to fight our battles, that they may be victorious, and that their efforts may bring about the fruit of peace. We pray for those who have experienced terrible losses through the changes in the economy, and we pray that the leaders of this nation may seek out the wisest ways of responding.

Above all, pour out on this nation your Holy Spirit, that there will be revival in our land, that the hearts of many will be moved to seek you, and that they may find that new life you offer us of love, joy, and peace.

Several other paragraphs stood out to me as clear as day from Martin Luther King Jr.’s amazing “Letter From a Birmingham Jail.” The excerpt below seemed especially relevant to me in light of recent things God has been laying upon my heart.

I recently started teaching a series on mercy ministry at my church’s singles group. As I studied the topic of mercy ministry in Scripture, I kept returning to the calling of the Church as Christ’s body. The more time I spent in prayer and reading, the more I was drawn to the reality that the Church is the visible earthly manifestation of God’s invisible heavenly kingdom. God gave me a glimpse of the dignified identity of the Church as, “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for [God's] own possession” (1 Pet 2:9).

At this past Wednesday’s meeting, we sang and prayed a wonderfully powerful song called “O Church Arise.” As we rejoiced in the victory of Christ the Conqueror over his enemies of Satan, sin, and death, God began to turn my celebration into what MLK Jr. calls “deep disappointment” at the current state of the church in our nation. God gave me a deep desire to see his kingdom manifested in power in our church and in the universal Church. I was especially stirred by these lines of the song: “An army bold whose battle cry is ‘Love!’ reaching out to those in darkness” and “Our call to war, to love the captive soul, but to rage against the captor.”

And tonight as I read Rev. King’s letter, I can’t help but feel the weight of his words. This was a man deeply moved by a heavenly vision of the kingdom of God manifested on earth through the Church, a Church united and committed to the mission of God on earth to loosen the cords of oppression, set captives free, and bravely stand in the gap against injustice.

In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson and the great grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.

There was a time when the church was very powerful–in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being “disturbers of the peace” and “outside agitators.”‘ But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were “a colony of heaven,” called to obey God rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be “astronomically intimidated.” By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests. Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s silent–and often even vocal–sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.