Something I Understand Well Now
HT: David Platt
One wonderful thing about the story of redemption is that God has let us in on the ending. We know that death – and all the suffering and grief that accompany it – will die. There is glorious life after death when God will dry your last tear and you will never have a reason to cry again. The light of God’s eternal glory will flood your life. You will never face death again.
Your tears now are not only tears of grief; they are also tears of longing. All of us experience this longing when we are cast into the darkness of death. We long for a better place where life doesn’t end this way. The Bible gloriously reassures us that our longing is not in vain. (See 1 Cor. 15; Rev. 7:9-17.) The story that began in an eternity without death will end the same way. Because you know how the story is going to turn out, your grief can be tempered by hope. You can grieve with one eye on your present loss and one eye on your future. Yes, you still miss your loved one greatly. You feel the stinging pain of loss. But your pain does not have to give way to discouragement, depression, and desperation. Even this moment of pain can be colored by your hope.
Leave room in your tears for little, quiet moments of celebration. Death will someday end forever. In your present sadness, let your heart look to the future. Can you anticipate the beauty to come?
- Paul David Tripp, Grief: Finding Hope Again
When you grieve, you are vulnerable to temptations you would normally resist. The enemy of your soul attacks in your weakest moments. He targets strugglers. In times of loss and grief, look out for these temptations:
Doubt. When you are shocked at the death of someone you love, it can be tempting to doubt God’s goodness, mercy, faithfulness, and love. You don’t feel loved. You don’t feel like you are the object of God’s goodness. You cry for mercy, but you don’t see it. It is easy to lose sight of what God is actually doing. If you wander down into a dark, windowless basement and the door locks behind you, you can’t see any light or feel the sun’s warmth. But did the sun stop shining? No. Powerful feelings of grief can get in the way of our experience of God’s goodness. But don’t give in to doubt. Hold onto your belief in his love and mercy more than ever before.
Anger. Death should make you angry that the effects of sin still touch us. But be careful that anger at death doesn’t degenerate into anger with God. In the face of things they do not understand, in the middle of questions that no one can honestly answer, many people bring God into the court of their judgment. Resist giving in to such anger. It blinds you to God’s true nature and ever-present help.
Envy. Death often makes us feel that we have been singled out for suffering. You may wish you could switch lives with someone else. But that is dangerous. Envy is rooted in a disappointment with God that says, “You didn’t give me what I want!” In envy, you are less able to deal with your loss in biblically constructive ways.
Self-pity. In your pain, you are tempted to move God out of the center of your life. Life becomes all about you. No one’s loss or pain is as great as yours. You descend to a level of self-pity and self-absorption you wouldn’t have tolerated before. Despite the way you feel, don’t set aside the two great commands to love God and others.
Are you resisting the temptations that grief sends your way?
This is a difficult and sensitive issue. Any answer must take into account that all of us are born sinful and thus worthy of judgment. The consistent New Testament emphasis upon the need for a second birth indicates that our natural state is that of sin, not innocence (John 3:1-12; Ephesians 2:1-5; cf. Psalm 51:5). We are "by nature children of wrath" (Ephesians 2:3).
In addition to having sinful natures, we also come into the world with Adam's sin imputed to us. Because of our union with Adam, we are born guilty of his first sin (Romans 5:12-21). We go into this doctrine in detail elsewhere, but for now it is enough to point out that, according to Paul, the fact that all die physically (even those who, like infants, did not have the opportunity to knowingly transgress a law of God-Romans 5:13-14) is a demonstration that we are connected with the guilt of Adam's sin.
If we are all born under sin, and salvation is by faith in Christ (which infants do not seem to have the mental capacity to exercise), then it might at first seem that no infants can be saved. We are not, however, aware of anyone who actually takes this position. We are convinced that it would be a premature, unbiblical conclusion.
One reason is that there are apparent examples in Scripture of infants who were saved. We are told that John the Baptist was filled with the Spirit while yet in his mother's womb (Luke 1:15). In Luke's theology, being filled with the Spirit is consistently seen as an aspect of the Spirit's work among those who are regenerate (Luke 1:41, 67; Acts 2:4; 4:8, 31; 6:3, 5; 9:17; 11:24).
Hundreds of years before John the Baptist, David wrote: "Yet you are he who took me from the womb; you made me trust you at my mother's breasts. On you was I cast from my birth, and from my mother's womb you have been my God." (Psalm 22:9-10). Because of David's apparent mention of having faith in God while still an infant, some have concluded that God saves infants by giving them a "primitive" form of faith. That conclusion, however, is not necessary to our point; the main thing to see in this passage is that David evidently was in a saving relationship with God from his mother's womb.
These verses make it very unlikely that all infants who die are lost. If God saved John the Baptist and David in infancy, surely we are warranted in concluding that he has saved others in infancy that were not given the opportunity to grow up. Yet, it would also be unwarranted to conclude from these texts that all who die in infancy are saved. The regeneration of infants does not seem to be God's usual way of working; we must keep in mind that "the wicked are estranged from the womb; they go astray from birth, speaking lies" (Psalm 58:3).
In light of these things, some have held that God saves some infants who die and not others. They point that this is seems most consistent with the doctrines of election and original sin.
John Piper and many others, however, believe that there is one more biblical strand of evidence which must be considered. This evidence leads us to conclude that God saves all infants who die.
In a funeral sermon several years ago for an infant, Dr. Piper summarized the basis for his conclusion:
Jesus says in John 9:41 to those who were offended at his teaching and asked if he thought they were blind-he said, "If you were blind, you would not have had sin; but since you say, 'We see,' your sin remains."
In other words, if a person lacks the natural capacity to see the revelation of God's will or God's glory then that person's sin would not remain-God would not bring the person into final judgment for not believing what he had no natural capacity to see.
The other text is Romans 1:20 where Paul is dealing with persons who have not heard the gospel and have no access to it, but who do have access to the revelation of God's glory in nature:
Romans 1:20 "Since the creation of the world God's invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse."
In other words: if a person did not have access to the revelation of God's glory - did not have the natural capacity to see it and understand it, then Paul implies they would have an excuse at the judgment.
The point for us is that even though we human beings are under the penalty of everlasting judgment and death because of the fall of our race into sin and the sinful nature that we all have, nevertheless God only executes this judgment on those who have the natural capacity to see his glory and understand his will, and refuse to embrace it as their treasure.
Infants, I believe, do not yet have that capacity; and therefore, in God's inscrutable way, he brings them under the forgiving blood of his Son.
In another sermon, he adds:
God in his justice will find a way to absolve infants who die of their depravity. It will surely be through Christ. But beyond that we would be guessing. It seems to me that the most natural guess would be that babies will grow up in the kingdom (either immediately, or over time) and will by God's grace come to faith so that their justification is by faith alone just like ours.
It is important to emphasize that, in our view, God is not saving infants because they are innocent. They are not innocent, but guilty. He is saving them because, although they are sinful, in his mercy he desires that compassion be exercised upon those who are sinful and yet lack the capacity to grasp the truth revealed about Him in nature and to the human heart.
It should also be emphasized that the salvation of all who die in infancy is not inconsistent with unconditional election (the view that God chooses whom to save of His own will, apart from anything in the individual). As Spurgeon pointed out, it is not that God chooses someone to salvation because they are going to die in infancy. Rather, He has ordained that only those who have been chosen for salvation will be allowed to die in infancy. God's justice in condemnation will be most clearly seen by allowing those who will not be saved to demonstrate their inherent sinfulness through willful, knowing transgression.
Finally, for those who have struggled with this issue through personal loss, we would want to say that knowing what happens to infants who die is a good place to rest your soul. But it is only the second best place for resting your soul. As John Piper has said in another funeral sermon for a young infant:
The first best place is simply this: Psalm 119:68—"Thou art good and doest good."
This was George Mueller's funeral text when his wife Mary died of rheumatic fever in 1860. His three points were:
The Lord was good, and did good, in giving her to me.
The Lord was good and did good, in so long leaving her to me.
The Lord was good and did good, in taking her from me.He did not start from Mary and move to God's goodness. He started with the unshakable confidence in the goodness of God rooted in Jesus Christ, and he interpreted his life and his loss in view of that goodness.
That is the bottom line is the goodness of God—that is the hope for us all, and the only hope.
Our final song is a plea for God's Spirit to wean us away from everything in the earth that would tempt us not to believe that.
Weekly magazine Shukan Post’s most recent issue contains an interesting article about a topic that likely falls close to home for many dwellers of the Japanese concrete jungle. Train jumpers, a form of suicide Japan is arguably infamous for, are so common in the Tokyo area that we hardly blink an eye when we see a train delay due to the ominous “人身事故” (jinshinjiko–human accident).
According to the Shukan Post, on average March has the highest rates of suicides of any month out of the year with an average of 100 people taking their own lives every day. The reason is unclear, they say, but may have something to do with the fiscal year, which ends on March 31. In a 2008 survey of population trends, the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare lists suicide as the top killer of people aged 20-39. As the Post puts it, Japan is a country where “those in the prime of life choose death.”
- Japan Subculture Research Center
Church planters must be outstanding theologians and outstanding missionaries. To have one without the other is a liability to the Kingdom. If our theological foundation is wrong, our missiology and methods are on tenuous grounds when it comes to the advancement of the Kingdom among a population segment, people group, etc.
Timelapse of Shizuoka City (Like a miniature) from 46°Project on Vimeo.
Through my work with the Acts 29 Network, I get the privilege of assessing a number of potential church planters each year. I also get to hear about dozens more from fellow pastors as well. When I guy comes in to get assessed, by the time he gets to the interview stage he’s already submitted a lot of paperwork. Resumes. Plans. Budgets. Demographic Analysis. Dental history. (Ok, just kidding on the last one).
And as I’ve looked at some amazing plans from church planters, I’ve started to notice a trend. They all sound the same.
It seems as the unique vision that God’s given so many church planters is almost identical. Phrases like “gospel-centered”, “missional”, and “cultural renewal” are littered throughout their proposals. It seems that the phrase “In the City. For the City.” or some variation of such has become church planting boilerplate.
Not only is the language the same, but so is the target group. It’s amazing how many young pastors feel that they are distinctly called to reach the upwardly-mobile, young, culture-shaping professionals and artists. Can we just be honest? Young, upper-middle-class urban professionals have become the new “Saddleback Sam”.
Seriously, this is literally the only group I see proposals for. I have yet to assess a church planter who wants to move to a declining, smaller city and reach out to blue collar factory workers, mechanics, or construction crews. Not one with an evangelsitic strategy to go after the 50-something administrative assistant who’s been working at the same low-paying insurance firm for three decades now.
Why is that? I can’t offer a definitive answer. It could be that God is legitimately calling an entire generation of young pastors to turn their focus to a small segment of the population that happens to look very much like they do.
Or it could be that we’re simply following in the footsteps of the church growth movement that we’ve loved to publically criticize while privately trying to emulate – we’ve just replaced Bill Hybels and Rick Warren with Tim Keller and Mark Driscoll.
Just thinking out loud…
Nothing in the existence of evil implies that God must not be in control. Nothing implies that He does not exist (exactly the opposite—without Him, the category evil does not exist; all is neutral flux and entropy). The struggle comes when we look at ourselves in the mirror, a carnival mirror, a mirror that stretches our worth into the skies. Given my immense personal value, how could a good God ever allow me to feel pain?
Our emotions balk at omni-benevolence.”
N.D. Wilson, Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl: Wide-Eyed Wonder in God’s Spoken World
10. What do you believe your fundamental calling is as a minister of the gospel?
9. What do you believe is the function of Lord’s Day worship? How would you see that function best served?
8. Who are your heroes, and why are they your heroes?
7. What is the greatest danger to the peace of the local church? What is the greatest danger to the purity of the local church?
6. What are the last five books you read? What is the most helpful book you read in the past year?
5. What was the most positive aspect of your training for gospel ministry? What was the most negative aspect?
4. What is the good news of Jesus Christ?
3. What have you done for the unbelievers in your community? What have you done for the unborn?
2. How would your friends honestly describe the disposition of your wife and children?
When we are critical of others, we are in it for one of two reasons. We are either critical because we are loving them, and are seeking their best interest, or we are critical because we are loving ourselves, and are seeking some way to compete effectively with them. This means that our criticism is either borne from a love of God, or it is borne from a love of self.
The critical spirit bites and devours. The critical spirit tears down and does not rebuild. The critical spirit speaks without thinking or reflecting. The critical spirit does not have equal weights and measures; it does not apply the same level of scrutiny to itself as it does to the other. The critical spirit always wins the game that it is playing, and does so by pretending to the neutral referee. The critical spirit belongs in Hell, but is often found in church.
The discerning spirit wants to protect, not destroy. The discerning spirit warns; it does not push. The discerning spirit can speak hard words, and often does, but it is the scalpel of the surgeon, not the cudgel of the mugger. The discerning spirit rejoices when corrections are made, and is glad when planned corrections become unnecessary. The discerning spirit is gentle or hard, depending on the need. The discerning spirit administers faithful wounds, not misplaced bruises.
Everyone here is in relationships with others, and so that means that everyone here is either critical or discerning. It is not possible to sit this one out.
- the Doug Wilson