Green Berets for Jesus

It was late one evening when a friend came to my dorm room at Samford University. I had been practicing piano for hours and was just getting to my room for some dreaded work on a Western Civilization assignment. The friend excitedly told me of a revival at one of the Baptist churches there in Birmingham, Alabama. Apparently, he had “never seen or heard of anything like what was going on there.” Being the son of a Southern Baptist pastor, I seriously doubted if there was anything I had not already seen or heard. However, since I was weary of being secluded in a windowless room for three hours of piano practice, I “felt led” to go to church that night.

We arrived forty-five minutes early and there were no more seats available in an auditorium that seated 750 or more people. Rather than standing outside with all the latecomers and listening to the service via loudspeakers, I led my friend around the back where we sneaked in through some closets, crawled through the choir loft and sat down on the floor directly in front of the pulpit.

After some rousing music, the janitor came out to do something with the pulpit. I knew he was the janitor because he had longhair, was wearing faded blue jeans, a pullover and sandals. To my surprise, however, the “janitor” turned out to be the speaker—Arthur Blessit [sic], the “father” of the Jesus Movement. For forty-five minutes, Arthur exhorted the crowd of young people to give their lives to Jesus Christ. The man’s very pores exuded the love of Christ. I was mesmerized by his passion for the lost and his obvious devotion to reach those whom the church had ignored.

When the sermon was over, an invitation was given for people to come forward to give themselves to Jesus. Scores came down the aisle and emptied their pockets of drugs and related paraphernalia. While Arthur was working his way through the crowd, I could see that he was moving in my direction. As I tried to back up and give the pagans room to talk with the man, I could see that he was focused on reaching me. When he took my hand, before I could say— “I am a Baptist who hasn’t missed Sunday School in fourteen years and my dad is a leading pastor in the denomination so don’t confuse me with the riffraff” —he told me to sit in a pew and not leave until he had spoken with me. His tone was stem, his demeanor was commanding.

While I had the urge to run, I waited for Arthur to return. “No one talks to me in that tone. What happened to the love that was dripping from his every word? Why did he look so angry with me? Does he think I am one of those pagans?” Before I could let him know that he had made a mistake, he sat down beside me and told me that I was obviously running from God’s call on my life. “What call is that?” I asked. “The call to the ministry,” he shot back.

Now I had already explained to God a year before that I would serve Him, but not in any pulpit. I loved my dad; I thought he was an incredible man of God. However, the vocation seemed quite stressful, laden with poverty and filled with men who needed some lessons in savoir faire. Not a lifestyle I was attracted to. So, as a compromise with the Almighty, I offered my services in the world of music. Obviously, Arthur had not been made privy to this agreement. However, before I could explain my case to this misguided evangelist, he told me that we—as in, the two of us—were going to go out and “witness to people for the Lord.”

When we pulled up in front of the Boom-Boom Room, I knew I was in trouble. I had frequently patronized this establishment but had not “felt led” to speak to anyone there about his spiritual condition. While I had never been carded there before, this time I begged God to see to it that the gentleman at the door noticed I was under age. He did not.

While Arthur began cheerfully speaking to individuals about the gospel I did my best to disappear into the shadows and hoped that no one recognized me. But then 1 heard a man ask me if I was “with that long-haired guy over there.” I nodded yes, eyes staring forward. He then asked me if I believed the same things that Arthur was telling people over at the bar. I affirmed my agreement with another nod, and still would not look at the gentleman who was speaking to me.

“Do you mean to tell me that Jesus will forgive me all of my sins, if I ask Him to?” His voice was filled with amazement.

“Yes,” I answered, with a voice filled with a not-so-subtle tone that said, “Go Away, You Bother Me!”

“Do you mean that I could pray right here and give my life to Jesus Christ and He would wipe my sins away?” His voice was growing louder.

“Yes.” My answers were more quiet than the still small voice heard by Elijah.

“I can repent … and He will forgive anything and everything I have done wrong?”

I sighed a “Yes” in his general direction.

“Okay. Let’s pray. I want to give my life to Jesus!”

I couldn’t believe it. I looked over at the elderly gentleman whose cheeks were bathed in tears and … drew a blank. What was I supposed to say? Finally I remembered that I should lead him in prayer, and so offered my hand and bowed my head. With the gusto of a Pentecostal, the man yelled out, “No, I want to kneel like those people over there are doing with your friend!” And before I could explain that we were not saved by such works, he had yanked me to the floor to kneel beside him and began repenting of every sin he had ever committed, his anguish filling every syllable. Before I had time to cover myself by acting as if I had dropped my contact lenses, I was awash in tears of humiliation over my arrogance and fear of man. Here was an unbeliever who, without hesitation, was willing to humble himself before God and man while I, a longtime believer, refused to do anything that would take me out of my ego’s comfort zone.

(Tomorrow: do all Christians have the same calling as “Green Berets” like David Livingstone?)

Radical by David Platt, an Alabama pastor, did get a lot of things right — but did not address several issues that would have made it more balanced. That’s what I wrote in my review last week. But a few related topics remained, some leftovers I wasn’t able to get into that review.

For instance, there’s the main theme of chapter 6, “How Much is Enough?” The question, and much of the chapter, reference Mark 10 and its description of Jesus’ encounter with a rich man.

Platt summarizes the account, ending with the rich man’s dejected departure from Jesus, clearly not wanting to follow Jesus’ commandment to sell all he has and follow Him. God bless Platt, he focuses on the truth that the rich man didn’t just have a moral failing. “Fundamentally, the rich man needed a new heart, one that was radically transformed by the gospel,” Platt writes.

Radical’s author also focuses on two errors people derive from the passage: acting as if the New Testament commands all Christians to sell all they have, or assuming that “Jesus never calls his followers to abandon all their possessions to follow him.

“This means he might call you or me to do this,” Platt notes.

But how would we know that? The author stops short of offering thoughts. What solution will fill the empty space? My concern: all those assumptions about listening for some “inner leading” from God, a nudge or a pull this direction or that, are still around. And many Christians will lurch toward them automatically.

Yes, a longer discussion of discerning God’s will would take more time. But Platt was good at including other disclaimers. A short aside like this would have helped: We can’t know for sure if God wants you to sell all you have. That’s another topic (try so-and-so book about it). But we do know Scripture doesn’t support some ideas of listening for God’s “inner nudge.” Our only sure source of knowing God’s will in advance is the written Word.

Without such disclaimers, Radical could permit wrong ideas to enter readers’ minds. To be sure, that’s often not an author’s fault. But Platt’s other asides, such as the hmm-hmm-maybe-that’s-naughty line about French fries, contribute (likely unintentionally) to a guilt-inducing edge. ¹

As Kevin DeYoung notes in his critical, though friendly review:

To his credit, Platt says we don’t need to feel guilty for everything that is not an absolute necessity (127). But earlier we are made to feel bad for the money we spend on french fries (108). It is easy to stir people to action by relating how little everyone else has and how much we have in America, but we are not meant to have constant low-level guilt because we could be doing more.

Even more than Platt’s French fries part, this aside from page 77 provoked my raised eyebrow:

In all this missions talk, you may begin to think, Well, surely you’re not suggesting that we’re all supposed to move overseas. That is certainly not what I’m suggesting (thought I’m not completely ruling it out!).

And why not completely rule that out? No — let’s completely rule it out! If the entire body were in overseas missionary work, where would the sense of domestic missionary work be? If the entire body were on the missionary dole, where would the sense of financial support be?

It doesn’t take much to show why Christians should avoid even hinting that one ministry calling would be better than another. That is true even if they’re passionate about certain ministries, such as overseas missionary work. And I argue it’s true even if a Christian book’s audience may be the sorts of people who truly need to consider that their callings may be greater than preserving their American Dreams and leaving the harder missionary work to Those People.

Platt’s lyrics may say all the right things. I just wonder if he let slip some assumptions about the best Christian living, however unintentionally, in the music of his asides and anecdotes.

(Adapted from my review posted last year and available here.)

It was in 2006 that I had managed to catch up to yet another Christianity-acclaimed author: John Eldredge, writer of the 2001 Wild at Heart book and its successful spinoffs.

It’s written for men, and yet although Eldredge is clearly an avid outdoorsman and guy who likes to leap off cliffs and things, his style is often very dramatic, almost feminine. His style contrasts with that of some other Christian men’s books, whose shorter, journalistic sentences cut the poetry and flowery adjectives and get right to the roots.

Worse than the style is this: in terms of defining a man’s role Biblically and how truly redeemed men of God should operate in a rebellious world, Eldredge falters — repeatedly.

In his haste to rebut — and rightfully so — secular and Christian notions of sensitive, caring Nice Guys in touch with their feminine sides, Eldredge unfortunately goes too far, and “wildly” outside of Scripture and common sense.

Walk on the wild side

Despite his own few disclaimers, Eldredge more than indirectly describes his own favorite hobbies — biking, hiking, running from an angry bull moose, etc. — as typical as those of the Wild Man, who has truly become free.

Eldredge naïvely applies this one-size-fits-all approach, based on whatever outdoorsey things worked for him, as if they will work the same for every crisis-afflicted man every time. Meanwhile, guys who enjoy painting, writing, or perhaps that corporate work Eldredge often dismisses as stunting to “wildness,” would fall far outside the stereotype. Instead, it seems the inevitable result of the Man Who Is Truly Set Free will be a sudden craving to rappel off a high sharp place.

That could be dismissed as merely the author’s narrow-mindedness, and rather juvenile self-focus. By far the worse problem is where Eldredge thinks far too broadly: proof-texting multiple Scripture passages and distorting God’s nature to fit his own “wild” worldview.

‘Wounded’ by un-Biblical ideas

Wild at Heart usually acts as a sequel to something. Eldredge’s often-meandering style leaves one not wanting more in the manner a great book brings, but in the way rendered by a book whose author hasn’t exactly finished every thought. One can easily read and keep thinking, This is a supplemental. It’s as if Eldredge is writing for people already exposed to something.

One could assume that prerequisite book is the Bible. But Eldredge never directly recommends reading the Scriptures or repenting to follow Christ before considering Wild. Instead, to make the “wild” ideas take hold, Eldredge merely assembles a montage of Scripture passages and other quotes, old and new, from psychologists, religious writers, recording artists and very often the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart. The character William Wallace of that film is frequently upheld as a Wild Man whose example we should emulate. (This book was written, of course, before Mel Gibson made his famous film about the truly best Man — and God — Who ever lived.)

Eldredge does devote considerable time to God Himself. Yet at times his portrayal of the Almighty is downright human — as another reviewer wrote, this is “God in Man’s Image.”

God is the ultimate Wild Man, Eldredge maintains. He enjoys taking risks. And His creation ultimately reflects that wildness, Eldredge writes, by way of thunderstorms, pods of killer whales, great white sharks, rattlesnakes and angry, charging bull moose.

“After God made all this, he pronounced it good, for heaven’s sake,” Eldredge explains.

Hold up. Read over that Wild list for a moment and consider: thunderstorms, sharks, rattlesnakes and bellowing moose can kill people. And if God makes all this because He’s wild and likes challenge and adventure, therefore — part of God’s “adventure” is killing people?

But Eldredge is nowhere near wanting to make God the infamous “author of sin.” In fact, he reveals his views as drastically opposite. “In an attempt to secure the sovereignty of God, theologians have overstated their case,” which results in a chess-player God Who directly causes sin, Eldredge says. “Clearly, this is not so. God is a person who takes immense risks.”

Of course, Eldredge assures readers he’s not advocating Open Theism. For those unfamiliar with the term, the word “heresy” will do instead, for it describes an unbiblical God Whom you can surprise. Yes, some may indeed “overstate” God’s sovereignty and decide He plays both sides of the chessboard; but Eldredge goes to the opposite extreme. Both hyper-Calvinists’ and Eldredge’s Open Theist versions of God have Him directly causing sin and death — the latter view begging that conclusion because God is a risk-taking, “wild” Deity.

Informed Christians understand the original creation was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). And it was “wild” and adventurous enough without moose chasing people all over the place. Eldredge goes outside of Scripture in merely that explanation. It is enough to undermine his whole foundation. But his errors hurtle even closer to the cliff’s edge from there.

Later, Eldredge re-describes the Rebellion in Genesis, running the narrative like everything else through his own standard gender-roles filter. Evidently the reason for Adam’s sin was not rebellion against God’s law, or wanting to be like God. Instead, the first created man “gave in to paralysis,” Eldredge writes. “He denied his very nature and went passive.”

Indeed, a case can be made that this is a secondary aspect of the Rebellion or a consequence of sin — that men forsake their roles as leaders and give way to passivity. But it’s not the cause of the first sin! God in Genesis and everywhere else in Scripture made it clear that idolatry ruined everything first and everything else is just secondary. Still, this is the “wild, wild” world of Eldredge, where apparently only denying gender roles ruined everything.

Just understand not only God’s wild nature, but how Adam denied his own wild nature in God’s image, and all men’s other problems are made clear, Eldredge contends. That includes the “wound” that every man supposedly inherits, likely passed down by his own father. Here Eldredge abandons Scripture even more and instead goes all secular-psychologist on readers.

The wounded before the spiritually dead?

Again Eldredge’s myopia is clear: A man’s denial of his Wildness or a Wild God is indirectly tied to the Wound he must have received as a growing boy. Here multiple male anecdotes come into play, chimed in by song lyrics: many men, Eldredge among them, give their accounts of mistreatment from their fathers, who may have told their sons they were worthless, would amount to nothing, and other condemnations.

Once more, a one-size-fits-all approach. If you’ve formed a False Self, or if you’re hurting, it’s your father’s fault.

To be sure, no thinking person would deny that is true for countless people, in a world of rebellion that often has rejected God’s designated roles for men and women and the sexes’ very real differences. But to portray all men as suffering the same affliction without regard for diverse circumstances, other problems and altogether common sense — it’s a cause/effect procedure, a diagram from a book — is rather a “wild” concept indeed. Yet it’s been common to some psychiatrists and approaches to therapy — un-Biblical ones — for years.

Comedy columnist Dave Barry spoofed this approach in a mid-1980s column, reprinted in Dave Barry’s Bad Habits:

PSYCHIATRIST: And what seems to be the trouble?

PATIENT: I’ve been having these horrible, splitting headaches.

PSYCHIATRIST: And when did these headaches begin? Around the time you realized your father was a horrible man?

PATIENT: No, my father was a wonderful man. My headaches began last week, when I was working under a car and the jack broke and the car fell on my head. I’ve also been bleeding from my ears.

PSYCHIATRIST: I see. And was your father’s name Jack?

Eldredge goes far outside the Scripture again when he contends that men must come clean about their “wound.” It sounds almost like an altar call to salvation, except for one crucial element. Eldredge, in effect, maintains that wounded men must admit and repent — repent the fact that It Wasn’t My Fault.

A quoted scene from the movie Good Will Hunting plays this out. A psychiatrist must get his patient to “repent” by admitting several times that It Wasn’t His Fault. “It’s not your fault,” the psych tells “Good Will” over and over. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” Until finally Will breaks down and is forced to admit the fact that — well, he’s guilty of nothing.

Eldredge skips over the fact that Biblically every man is guilty of a heinous crime: insidious rebellion against a holy God! Of course, many men’s fears and the factors that have led to their problems are often unavoidable, but that’s the result of another man’s rebellion against God that has led to the man’s maltreatment of others.

Rebellion against God is the true Wound, but it’s much worse than just an injury: the Bible is clear that humans are dead in their sins (Ephesians 2:1-9, Colossians 2:13). And the Biblical God, because of His sovereign, holy nature, is repulsed. Therefore Christ, because of His mercy, will resurrect His people from that death as He resurrected Himself. Only then can He begin work on the numerous scars and wounds committed on the person after he was killed.

Eldredge doesn’t just write about working a surface treatment for a living person’s wounds. Instead, he presents a Savior Who will stitch wounds (real or merely perceived) without first resurrecting the individual from his or her spiritual death.

Such a view is understandable, at least from a human point of view. If a doctor stands before a battlefield filled with the wounded and dying, and those already dead, he should tend to the wounded first. But the Almighty God, as is typical for Him by human standards, does take a “wild” approach: He raises the dead first! He can do that!

Dismissing ‘doctrinal Nazis’?

That is Wild at Heart’s mortal wound: Eldredge skips over the rebels-and-resurrections doctrines. He seems to assume you’ve already read the Bible, or may somehow get into those other peripheral things such as sin and Grace after you’ve dealt with your father’s nasty treatment or your own vital desperation to prove yourself a man.

But any criticisms of his worldview, based on the felt-needs framework and “gender recovery” mind trips, won’t be well-received. Early on, Eldredge dismisses those concerned with sound teaching as “self-appointed doctrine police” who practice “doctrinal Nazism.”

Like most, he’s likely referring to those who swerve too far into Pharisaical legalism, which stifles true growth in the Person of Christ. But such an approach miscasts the Pharisees and gets the problem completely backwards: the Pharisees’ flaw wasn’t forcing everyone to accept their correct and proper Biblical doctrines. It was making up new rules, with if/then, cause/effect approaches to every problem, and saying they were equivalent to what was actually in Scripture.

That is exactly what Eldredge has himself done. The “wild” focus has led him in the book to proof-text Scripture to support his redefinitions of God, human rebellion and the seriousness of humankind’s “wound.” And he naïvely applies these concepts to all unspiritual or “problem” men, rather than sourcing his views in the actual Bible.

Perhaps sticking with the Scripture is all the more becoming the truly “wild” concept in the Church, while too many of its members increasingly seek after psychology and worldly traditions rather than the Person of Christ Himself. His Word should never be replaced by the worldly wisdom of men — either “wild” men or otherwise.

Sometimes you can just tell when not to get into a new Christian book, based solely on its summary in the CBD catalog.

Using real-life experiences, [name of author] reveals the attitudes and actions that helped him hear directly from God when facing challenges. You’ll learn how to listen for whispers that determine choices, nudges that rescue us from despair, promptings that spur growth, urgings that come from others, and inspiration that reveals the terrible plight of people around the globe.

By the way, God told me to critique this book I haven’t actually read — He gave me a nudge, you see.

But seriously: does anyplace in Scripture say God wants us to seek His will this way?^{1 2}

Until this article by Answers in Genesis staffer Dr. Georgia Purdom, I didn’t know some Christians were trying to prove God’s existence (or character) from a protein molecule shape. Here it is, apparently called laminin.

But I am a bit confused as to how a photo of a laminin protein can be such a boon to faith as some Christians say it has been to them. Help me out here? And I don’t want to be rude, but I have a few questions, and I’m sure they’ll be echoed by others who also don’t quite get it.¹

1. Is it that all galaxies or protein molecules contain cross shapes?

2. If not, might other galaxies or proteins seem to have other shapes instead? Perhaps even shapes in reminiscent of other religious icons, such as a Star of David or the Islamic Crescent? Perhaps someone with more of a life-sciences background could fill us in on this.

3. Could therefore someone of another religion use the same argument? Would it be valid for their point? If not, should we as Christians use the same line of reasoning? Does Scripture encourage us to do so?

4. Is this much different from people thinking they’ve seen Jesus, the Virgin Mary or a saint in shrubbery, and take it as a sign of blessing?

5. Do Christians really “need” such signs? Should we bring them up as proof that God’s testimony of common grace and Creator is evident in creation? Does this jibe with Christians’ claims to believe the written Word as God’s final and uttermost specific revelation to people?

Cross shapes, whether in molecules or stripped-off bark of a tree, can remind us of Jesus. But I wouldn’t use it as a basis for supposed proof of His Word or for God being our Creator.

In her excellent and recent Answers in Genesis article, Dr. Georgia Purdom kindly and with Biblical basis explores the laminin protein and its seeming cross shape. She starts off with a mention of evangelist Louie Giglio, who with good intentions relates the shape of laminin to the truth of Colossians 1:17.²

While I appreciate Mr. Giglio’s passion for the Word, I would suggest that this type of argument is not a good one to use. [. . .] The main problem with this type of argument is that it appears that something outside of Scripture (in this case, laminin) is vital to know the truthfulness of a biblical truth. Laminin is used to prove a biblical truth. However, we should never use our fallible, finite understanding of the world to judge the infallible Word of God. What we observe in the world can certainly be used to confirm God’s Word (and it does), but our finite observations are not in a position to evaluate the infinite things of God. Only if we start with the Bible as our ultimate standard can we have a worldview that is rational and makes sense of the evidence. [. . .]

The structure of laminin was not made popular until 2008, yet I have no doubt that many Christians before that time have trusted the truth presented in Colossians 1:17 because it is God’s Word. Would Colossians 1:17 be any less true if laminin were not in the shape of a cross? No. If five years from now we discover that the laminin protein actually has a different shape (in fact, some electron micrographs of the protein do not resemble a cross at all, see here, p. 149), would that change the truth found in Colossians 1:17? No, because our belief in the truthfulness that Christ holds all things together should start and end with God’s Word alone!
(more…)

(Find the whole “God’s will hunting” series thus far, including last week’s Part 4: Asking for wisdom, here. The series will continue soon.)

Hey back, Isaac,

Last time, your closing paragraph, about claiming God “gave us a word” and thus risking taking His name in vain, is one of those salient points that should make any reader go … “ooooohh.”

Greg Koukl pointed out that Christians often get offended when people exclaim “Oh God!”. We say “How dare you take his name in vain!” And then we get a “Word from the Lord” and tell someone whom they should or should not marry. Who’s committing the most serious sin in taking the Lord’s name in vain? Ours does much more damage.

Further on that truth: from what I understand, the Fourth Commandment wasn’t just a ban on saying God’s Name aloud when one isn’t actually addressing Him. That is included, but I’m very sure the wider meaning was that the Hebrews, by their actions, should not profane the Name of God to others by what they do.

Two recent (at the time of this writing, Jan. 14) news stories add even more to this point.

The first is the life-shattering earthquake in Haiti. Christians need to clarify that God is not weak; the earthquake didn’t stun Him. But should we say “the earthquake was God’s will” as some might? It is like we should, in one sense, only among ourselves as Christians. But even then we must be careful, because many Christians (likely because they haven’t been taught) are not careful to distinguish God’s on-the-surface will from His deeper will.

Revealed will: God hates sin and suffering. Deeper will: He allows it anyway, for reasons only He knows but that even now we can begin to see, for greater good and His glory.

The second related issue is Pat Robertson’s statement that God’s will is judging Haiti for some sin in the past (such as a “pact with the Devil”). As you said, this seems to take the Lord’s Name in vain as much as anyone who utters His Name aloud as part of a vile cussphrase.

Disclaimer: I think an equal problem to Pat Robertson’s self-righteous announcements is making equally self-righteous pronouncements against him — playing the “I’m the good cop” Christian game, trying to elevate ourselves in the world’s eyes. But instead of falling into the same sin of spiritual arrogance, we ought to plead: Mr. Robertson, you ought to first, get off the TV and come back and renounce false “prophecies”; second, understand that in the deepest sense, anything that happens is according to God’s will! Make it clear God does hate sin and suffering, but that He allows it — like the tower disaster in Luke 13: 1-4 — to remind people to repent!

What I find most often, is people do not use the principles in the Bible to make sound decisions themselves. Often, we wish to get a clear answer about God instead of making a decision for ourselves, taking the responsibility.

Like many Christians do when they claim “God told me” something, I can illustrate this truth with a Personal Anecdote. Recently I visited extended relatives over the holiday break. Someone, in a personal story of her own, told me “God told her” to give a Bible to someone.

Did she take God’s Name in vain? I’m not sure what to say about that. Isn’t it always good to share the Word with someone? Wouldn’t that obviously be in God’s revealed will? So why not just say you followed those clear written words from Him, rather than claiming some special Spirit whisper inside? In this instance, I just smiled and nodded. That action was likely more honoring to God, and to her, than picking a fight with her wording would have been.

But what if she said God wanted her to donate her entire life savings to Joyce Meyer Ministries or something? — and I, knowing her better years later, had already let her “get away” with claiming God’s direct word about her more-minor actions, and not said anything?

Really I think it comes back to being careful about our language. Someone may say God told me directly to do this and mean it very sincerely. As you said, that can still happen! But in so many cases it’s hard not to say that, or use that, as a way of setting ourselves up as so very Spiritual: God speaks to me directly. Thus the implication: Hmm, does He speak to you directly?

This seems much too close to a Gnosticism-type Christianity, in which the Holy Spirit constantly speaks mainly and “loudest” to people on a very deep Spiritual level that only very Spiritual people can hear.¹ But rather than forcing us to cringe and listen closely to whatever God might be saying in between the lines of life, the Bible gives us all the same Word. And yes, it takes physical work with actual language, to understand it. I don’t mean to imply it is easy. But it’s less difficult than how some say it is!

Here’s another point I heard somewhere If God only gave us nudges and whispers, rather than primarily speaking with His direct Word (as He has!), He would be cruel and unloving.

Last time, you mentioned looking for precedents in Scripture about finding God’s will. I think many people actually do look there for precedents, but only selectively. For example, some homeschooling-oriented Christians look to Middle-eastern culture of Old Testament days and their courtship practices² as precedent for matching up in modern times. But they never have their daughters sneak into the handsome field worker’s property when he’s in high spirits from too much drinking, and lay at the foot of his bed until he wakes up and then you say he’s your choice of a mate — a la the book of Ruth!

You also mentioned the many examples of people in Scripture asking for God’s wisdom, but making choices on extra-Biblical matters without waiting for a supposed “direct word from the Lord.” Do you think Christians blithely see past those? For example, the many times Paul in his missionary travels just went to Antioch or Crete or Attalia in Asia Minor and did not wait for a direct leading from the Lord. Instead, readers subconsciously pay more attention to the Spirit not allowing Paul and his fellow missionaries to enter one place and sending them elsewhere, or the way Moses heard from God in the burning bush, and perceive those as the way God normally works. Again, it’s selective. I wonder how much of that ties into the “life verse” fallacy, where someone bases his lifestyle or ministry on favorite parts of the Bible, ignoring the rest.

That probably means that if we were to question someone’s “word from the Lord” about even where to buy a new car, he/she would be upset and assume we believe God never speaks or acts miraculously. Of course we believe He does! Yet like you said, that’s not the Biblical rule for living. We should not expect Him to give us extra revelation when He’s already closed the canon of written Scripture, and gives us wisdom and the abilities to grow in it, with His Spirit’s help.

So here are my closing questions for next time: how do we react when someone says “God told me” such-and-such? Do we nitpick? Lovingly ask deep questions? Ignore it? And especially if someone is using that as a reason/excuse not to make a decision and take the consequences if it turns out to be “wrong” — that is, if God uses it to help us the hard way — what can we do?

Again, Godspeed! And in Him,

Stephen

Yesterday, Adam preached the sermon at my church. He is a great guy, normally with shaggy brown hair, but recently he had a haircut and it took a moment before I recognized him. It was a great message, thematically tied to the previous two (also posted on this site). And somehow, even more truths in this Biblical message related to this site’s current God’s will hunting series.

Another truth I haven’t included below: I can do quite a decent Adam voice impersonation. Yet I’m not sure whether continuing this is God’s will, because the Spirit hasn’t “nudged” me one way or the other (like He does every time we have a decision to make, right?).

So, discussion question: can I imitate Adam’s voice to the glory of God? It’s not forbidden in the Bible, and I believe my intention is not mockery. So in this instance, that might be permissible. (more…)

(On Jan. 2 we began a series on “God’s will hunting,” consisting of emails traded back and forth between E. Stephen Burnett and Isaac M. That included last week’s column Part 3: The subjects of Scripture, and this shows the entire series so far. We continue with part 4 …)

Stephen,

Good point with the Dan-Brown glasses. Someone once asked my brother if it was God’s will for him to be in the military. Now, think about it for a second. What will does he mean? Is this God’s moral will for him he’s speaking of? Probably not. He clearly knows its not in scripture for him to receive a command to clearly join the military. Sexual purity, yes, but not questions on whether to join the military. While he could use the Bible to gain wisdom on that decision, it won’t give him a clear answer.

Is the man then asking about God’s sovereign will? If so, then one would have to say that he’ll only know if he joins or not. But then, it was also God’s sovereign will for Joseph’s brothers to sell him into slavery, but we wouldn’t want them to answer “Yes” if we asked them whether it was God’s will for them to betray their brother.

You asked as to whether people make judgments on God’s word based on their perception of the audience of the Bible. Well, I’m not sure. In many ways, I do view it as an instruction manual (though that is an insufficient definition that excludes the most important aspects). Yet, people perhaps don’t want that. What I find most often, is people do not use the principles in the Bible to make sound decisions themselves. Often, we wish to get a clear answer about God instead of making a decision for ourselves, taking the responsibility.

Again, look at Solomon. He asked for wisdom so that he could make good decisions. When the two women came before him with the baby, he didn’t pray about a decision. James 1 tells us to ask for wisdom, and we are told God “gives generously”.

This leads me to my next point after talking about Solomon, and that’s examples. We rarely look to the scriptures for precedents in how we ask for God’s will.

Look at Paul. We often speak of open and closed doors. In 1 Corinthians he speaks of a door being opened with many adversaries, and he went through. But in 2 Corinthians he mentions a door “opened for me in the Lord,” but what does he do? He leaves it and goes somewhere else. But that throws a wrench in the paradigm of open/closed doors. Clearly God opens doors in our lives, but just because he opens them, it does not mean we have to take them.

Now before I go further, I want to say something. I believe God can definitely speak to us today in 21st century America. He can do it. I actually hold that he does. Now, God could deliver emails or send letters down in a space ship if he wanted to. Logically, there’s no reason why he couldn’t. But if you’re skeptical, it should probably be because you’re looking for scriptural precedent.

Here’s what I find in scripture: God’s speaking is always miraculous. It is most often unlooked for. It often goes against common sense. And finally, and this is big: It is always clear. No one in scripture misunderstood God’s direct word to them. They may have disobeyed, but they always heard it. And yet we can get seminars on how to listen clearly to God’s will. Nowhere in scripture does God speak through inward nudges. Nowhere does he speak through “checks on my spirit”.

And finally, I’ll end with this. You know, when I was younger, people asked me why I didn’t date. I said I didn’t want to. Nothing spiritual about it. No command from God. I just didn’t want to. Now, I wasn’t thinking as clearly about this as am now. I was still at the point where I was trying to divine God’s will. But we must be very cautious about attaching God’s sacred name to a decision of ours.

Greg Koukl pointed out that Christians often get offended when people exclaim “Oh God!”. We say “How dare you take his name in vain!” And then we get a “Word from the Lord” and tell someone whom they should or should not marry. Who’s committing the most serious sin in taking the Lord’s name in vain? Ours does much more damage.

In Christ,

Isaac

Coming next week: God’s will hunting, part 5: Clarifying “two wills.”

Changes are coming to my church, which is only three years old and thus far has about 50 members. In that light, Sunday morning sermons this month have focused on the church’s core beliefs, such as the preeminence of Christ. (That was last week’s sermon; my notes are here.)

So yesterday’s message was about God’s Word, as in His written Word. But unlike some usual admonitions about making God’s Word supreme in our lives, my pastor talked about the need to base all this on delighting in the Word of God. We avoid error, receive life direction, grow to be like Christ and all that stuff mainly because we love the very words God has inspired.

Also — this has application for the current “God’s will hunting” series. After all, as noted below, one can’t find in the Bible specific instructions for many life choices. If we could, that would make the Word about us and mere behavior modification, not seeking delight in God Himself!

01.17.2010 — 2 Timothy 3:14 – 4:5 (Paul)

• Though typically we interact about other things, we must talk more about the Word of God, our growth and our spiritual struggles. Let’s encourage this, including on the church blog, ProvPress.org — living out our theology.
• During the Reformation, the defining battle cry was SOLA SCRIPTURA and four other solas: sola Christos, sola gratia, sola fide, and SOLI DEO GLORIA. Reformers, such as John Huss and Martin Luther, began recovering these: the defining issues, contrasted with the Roman Catholic Church’s emphases on traditions and human teachings above the truth of God’s Word — though they believed it was inerrant.
• Church authorities tried to prevent these truths from spreading by burning the Reformers’ books, and sometimes the Reformers themselves.
• If the Bible is not central and valued in our hearts, it will become to us just another book wit good advice on how we should live. Do the predictions of Paul to Timothy resonate today? Absolutely they do!
• “Everything in our faith rises and falls” on what we learn about God, Christ and the Gospel from the prophets’ and apostles’ words in Scripture.
• Thus, to disobey or disbelieve any word in Scripture is to disobey or disbelieve God too. Example: Romans 13, which says to obey human governmental authorities unless they contradict the clear word of God. Failing to treat others in a Godly manner, also, is to disobey Him.
• Paul does not say reading the Bible brings salvation — it is not itself the saving agent. But the Word of God reveals the Gospel, which a person hears, and which the Spirit uses to bring saving faith. Through the preaching of the Word, the Spirit opens people’s eyes to receive it.
• This is why we keep the Word central: because we want to spread the Gospel of Christ — justification — and this is how; and to grow to be like Him — sanctification.
• The Bible equips us for every good work by equipping us for God’s unique callings on our lives. Too often we want specific answers for what we should do in life, and what decisions to make in specific circumstances, but this is not how God’s Word works. Rather, as we read the Scripture, the Spirit reveals to us how to have wisdom.
• As we learn His Word, we have our hearts changed to find more and more satisfaction in Him, not in our sin, and not just reading lists of rules.
• Example: the Bible doesn’t tell husbands how to address every specific situation with their wives. But it does say to build our marriages on the relationship between Christ and His Church — the way He loves her.
• We all face choices like this. As we become more familiar with the Word’s teaching, we are more familiar with how the Spirit would have us act.
• Psalm 1: the writer delights in and meditates on God’s Word constantly. The man who does this, who loves God’s Law and studies it, will be blessed. Never reduce God’s will to rules of behavior! Rather, we should be Christians because we love and delight in God and His Word. We should taste such sweetness and crave more, and grow to be like Jesus!
• We bring forth fruit this way, in all seasons of life, good or bad. That is why we must hold to God’s Word. “That is our sustenance, and that’s our joy.”

How do Christians determine God’s will? Should we listen for Him to speak to us, even directly, before making choices about where to move, whom to marry, what Kingdom work to do?

My friend Isaac and I are having an email discussion about these topics, to adapt into this series called “God’s will hunting.” We began Jan. 1 with part 1: Christian assumptions, and last week’s column was part 2: Watch your language. All of the series will be available here.

Hey back, Isaac,

From the start in your last message, you zoomed right in on how our views of the Bible affects our views of God’s will. Is the Bible a book whose meanings can be plain to any reader? Or do we go to it with our Dan-Brown-style magnifying glasses, trying to find the Special Personal Meaning, a “Bible code” that is all so much more spiritual and high-falutin’ than the plain meaning of a text? ¹

Do you think a lot of this is rooted in how people view the audience of the Bible? Along with the evangelical “life decision” jargon you mentioned, there’s an idea about (I often fight it in myself) that Scripture is “life’s little instruction manual.” Or people say it’s “God’s love letter.” While surely both instructions for right living and truths of God’s love are in the Bible, saying these things without a bigger picture can lead to unhelpful misunderstandings. Scripture is primarily the story of God and what He has done. It is not mainly about us.

We’ve talked before about The Chronicles of Narnia and how people try to identify Lucy as Mary Magdalene or the Tisroc as King Herod, and things like that. Have you seen, perhaps, that Christians who do that with Narnia do the same thing with the Bible, and themselves?

I’m guessing this is another main source for the assumptions that lead to the “burning bush” notion of how to find God’s will. In addition to the confusion of God’s revealed will (in the Scriptures) and His hidden will (which none knows save Himself), it is the “violent flattening” (as blogger Dan Phillips called it) of Biblical descriptions into behavior prescriptions.

In this kind of view, the stories about King David are not just about how God used him, from a shepherd boy to a warrior to a king, to fulfill a role in the history of Israel, God’s chosen old-covenant people — and especially as a type of the real Christ to come. No, in the wrong way of seeing it, you, gentle reader, are like David, and you need to figure out how exactly God worked with him so you can follow the same guidelines. Do you think God may want you to be a “king” (wink wink) too? What are the “giants” in your life? Etc. …

And instead of seeing, say, Moses’ revelation from God in a burning bush (Exodus 3) as an example of how God was working with him at that point in the Story, people react as though God ought to work the same way with us too and give us a “burning bush.”

Instead of seeing Peter’s visions of a sheet filled with creatures as God’s unique word to the apostle that His Spirit would be bringing Gentiles into the faith (Acts 10), some people see having a vision as normative. It happened to Peter; why shouldn’t it happen to us? ² Thus something really vital in God’s Story, the blockbuster news that Gentiles and not just Jews would be brought into Christianity, is flattened right alongside whether you should get the more-durable Ford or the cheaper Volvo.

But the people in God’s Story (consisting of stories, poetry, history, records, etc.) are not stand-ins for us. He doesn’t say He will give everyone a burning bush, or a vision, or a “peace about it” as you said before.

I think the alternate view comes from the sense of un-Biblical pride that you also talked about. How often we find this in our own lives! Yet figuring out that the Bible, while written for us to be sure, is not about us personally, helps kill that pride. We see ourselves as players in God’s Story, not the stars of a story God writes about us. The self-centered view is subtle, and part of our sin nature. Yet God can change that.

And more and more, as God is helping us grow, we discover we like it that way! He is glorified. We give Him glory, not vice-versa. Slowly we begin to see that the Word is not merely a mirror to reflect our lives, or a collection of various Book of Proverbs-style slogans we can pick out and make refrigerator magnets out of and apply for better choices in daily living. Instead, we learn further to get under His Word, humbly, and let it teach us about Himself. That includes how He has directed people in the past, and how He directs us now.

… Which may lead us to the Holy Spirit. This past Sunday my church study group did a survey on the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. He gets ignored a lot in some circles, and overly promoted in others — either side of which oddly falls into the quasi-Biblical God’s-will-hunting views. I wonder how that is?

But anyway, the Holy Spirit — we’ll have to tackle that One soon. How has He worked in the past to direct people? How does He work now in the lives of believers to direct them?

Also a huge issue in this is God’s sovereignty. Can we mess up His revealed commands, such as when we disobey His edicts about encouraging each other or staying holy? Yes, absolutely.³ Is that still part of His will? Yes, absolutely, in the sense that He is sovereign and has a “hidden” will, and no one can step outside of it.

I wonder — what would happen if, in some parallel world, God’s people did know about His hidden will in advance? We’d be too much like Him. He would lose glory. We would trust the knowledge, rather than learn to trust Him. And besides that, when we are finally beyond this old Earth and can review our lives from His perspective in Heaven (and later the New Earth), our stories would be much more boring, don’t you think?

His hidden will is a comfort: He is in charge. We can’t fail, because He can’t fail.

His revealed will is a caution: we’re still responsible. We can fail. But still, He never ever will.

Next Saturday: Isaac responds with further thoughts on how Christians, by saying “God told me this” specifically, actually risk taking His Name in vain, and how any of His direct commands to His people are never vague, in Part 4: Asking for wisdom.