Contrary to popular opinion, the second greatest commandment is sufficient (in the context of the first greatest commandment) to guide us through the Christian life. Too often, its generality is mistaken for impracticality. We don't believe Christ to be precise enough. He doesn't tell us where to go, who to approach, what to say or give to them, and so on. As a pastor, I get the plaguing question many times in a given month - "What am I supposed to do with my life?" When I answer, "Love your neighbor as yourself," I get odd looks. The answer just isn't precise or practical enough.
The second greatest commandment is not as precise as we would like for at least two (related) reasons.
First, the commandment keeps us from being lord of our own lives. It lovingly and authoritatively keeps us in our created position as servants of our King. The general commandment to love helps us to see that life is not about accomplishing tasks for the sake of accomplishing tasks. The purpose of any commandment is love, and love demands intimate and continual relationship with both our Lord and others. The generality of the commandment keeps us connected to Christ. It reminds us we need him every moment.
The Lord may certainly [particularly] call someone to, say, build their house in the hood; but this is only after that person has followed the commandment (by grace) to love his or her neighbor who lives in the hood. In order to love, he or she must live where the object(s) of that love live(s). The precise command to build serves only as a means to meet the greater command to love. And this must always be the case.
With that said, the other reason for the imprecise nature of the second commandment is that it establishes Christ as Lord. It dethrones other masters. If you think about it, other masters (including ourselves) are extremely precise in their commands. Those who are "mastered" by their to-do lists know this truth well. These masters fill our lives with so many tasks that we cannot possibly have time to love others. In some ways we like these masters more than the Lord. Their particular instructions are manageable and controllable. I can build a house. It is a concrete, doable command.
It's a whole lot more convenient than loving the Mexican immigrant I pass by as I walk into Lowe's to buy light fixtures. Buying the fixture for the house is controllable. But the immigrant may ask me for work, money, food, time or whatever. If I stop to "love" him, I must relinquish all control of my life. If I follow the command to love, I don't call the shots. Someone else, whom I cannot control, does.
But, if I stop to "love" him, I will soon hear the particular ways in which this person needs to be loved. Ironically, if I love him, my to-do list soon fills up.
The general command to love, if we trust our Lord in following it, soon fills our particular list. The best list is the one written by someone else's needs and desires. The best to-dos are those that ultimately end in loving others. The particular commands, however, that end in filling our own selfish desires, will keep us from Christ's greatest commandments. They will ultimately keep us from Christ himself.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
Interview with Confessing our Hope: Church Planting in Difficult Circumstances
I was recently interviewed by Greenville Seminary's Confessing Our Hope. As many of you know, we are in the process of beginning a church plant in an impoverished urban area. If you are interested in hearing about the work, this interview will give you a pretty good run down concerning our vision, goals and philosophy. I am thankful for William Hill who conducted the interview. He was a delight to speak with and huge encouragement for me personally.
You can find the interview on the Confessing Our Hope website here.
You can find the interview on the Confessing Our Hope website here.
Please Watch: Thi'sl Video - Hold On
I would encourage you to listen intently to the words of this song as they depict the realities and struggles of those trying to make it in impoverished communities. The message hits home to many of my good friends in the neighborhood where I presently serve.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Picking Out Errors in Evolutionary Arguments
Both Christians and atheists find evolution highly problematic and troublesome. The inconsistencies and errors are so profound and obvious that those who promote the worldview are forced to hide behind a mirage of rhetoric while they depend on the inability (and unwillingness!) of their audience to see the fallacy behind the facade.
With this in mind, I have found a few books on logic to be extremely helpful, not only in pointing out the fallacies in evolutionary and atheistic arguments, but also in my own.
The first book is Biblical Logic: In Theory and Practice by Joel McDurmon. This is the more thorough of the two as it gives a richer context to logic and right thinking.
The second book is Discerning Truth: Exposing Errors in Evolutionary Arguments by Dr. Jason Lisle. This is a small and easy read. I suggest this book for those who have little time and who are relatively unfamiliar with philosophical language and work.
The one fallacy that I come across most often is the fallacy of reification. Reification is attributing a concrete characteristic to something abstract. Not a few times have I heard someone say, "Science says..." or "The evidence says evolution is true." Evidence and Science are abstract entities that are unable to speak. They do not have an authoritative voice but are subject to the presuppositions, viewpoints, biases and agendas of those who do.
Science does not say anything, scientists do. And most who say that science says this or that, have never really conducted the science themselves, but are merely reading the written words of scientists. They are trusting the words of another.
See any irony here?
By pointing out the fallacy of reification, their position is reduced to a matter of faith. But can the object of their faith be ultimately and absolutely trusted? I will take Christ over Dawkins any day.
With this in mind, I have found a few books on logic to be extremely helpful, not only in pointing out the fallacies in evolutionary and atheistic arguments, but also in my own.
The first book is Biblical Logic: In Theory and Practice by Joel McDurmon. This is the more thorough of the two as it gives a richer context to logic and right thinking.
The second book is Discerning Truth: Exposing Errors in Evolutionary Arguments by Dr. Jason Lisle. This is a small and easy read. I suggest this book for those who have little time and who are relatively unfamiliar with philosophical language and work.
The one fallacy that I come across most often is the fallacy of reification. Reification is attributing a concrete characteristic to something abstract. Not a few times have I heard someone say, "Science says..." or "The evidence says evolution is true." Evidence and Science are abstract entities that are unable to speak. They do not have an authoritative voice but are subject to the presuppositions, viewpoints, biases and agendas of those who do.
Science does not say anything, scientists do. And most who say that science says this or that, have never really conducted the science themselves, but are merely reading the written words of scientists. They are trusting the words of another.
See any irony here?
By pointing out the fallacy of reification, their position is reduced to a matter of faith. But can the object of their faith be ultimately and absolutely trusted? I will take Christ over Dawkins any day.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
From Bored to Blown Away
My wife and I are going through a mentored "program" called Sonship, given through World Harvest Mission. The basic goal of the course is to help individuals and couples understand their proper relationship to the Lord - as sons and daughters and not orphans. They do this by applying the glorious truths of the bible to the "nitty gritty" situations of every day life.
The course is far from easy. As they like to put it, head theology is pretty simple to intellectually understand and know. But, for me, making the transition from head theology to heart theology feels nothing short of impossible.
The truths of the gospel are so simple and basic that at every moment, I am tempted to either twirl my thumbs in boredom or be profoundly effected as those truths trickle into my stubborn heart. I know that I am righteous in Christ, but do I feel it? I know that I am a son, but why do I act like an orphan so much? I know that my wife is a daughter of God, but why do I treat her otherwise at times?
Sure, we can always dive the depths of systematic theologies. But diving and dwelling where most don't swim, has been an escape mechanism to get away from people. It has been my attempt to keep from facing the reality that I just don't love people well.
A few weeks ago I was up to my orphan ways, and consequently without the company of my wife. I called our mentor an hour before we were supposed to meet to let him know what was going on. After listening to me and asking a few questions here and there, he began to point out to me the parts of my life that were less than holy. Like a surgeon, he skillfully peeled back the layers of my life and exposed what was really wrong with me.
And then he told me that this course is not designed to fix me. That it was probable we would get to the end and I would continue to act the way I was acting. As my heart sunk, I kept listening. He said that the purpose of the course was to expose our need for Christ. It was to show why we do not deserve his presence and acceptance; why we should be orphans and not sons and daughters.
After an hour of conversing, he told me to stand in awe, that in light of all of my sin and selfishness, the Lord delights in me because of Christ.
I broke. My cold heart bled a bit. My dry eyes wept a bit.
You will have to excuse the personal tone of this post, as well as many others as of late. I am going through a transition. For too long I have trusted that learning a new theological fact was the same as leaning upon Christ the foundation. I have confused knowledge with faith, learning with love. I have made every religious attempt to exempt myself from the very category that Jesus came to save - sinners who are sick and needy (Luke 5:31-32).
I am reminded now of the glorious truth that we don't have to be well to come to Jesus. We don't have to be right to be righteous. And we don't have to be perfect to be perfectly accepted. Christ did it all and gives it all. And because he does, as the old hymn so gloriously confesses, "We need him every hour."
The course is far from easy. As they like to put it, head theology is pretty simple to intellectually understand and know. But, for me, making the transition from head theology to heart theology feels nothing short of impossible.
The truths of the gospel are so simple and basic that at every moment, I am tempted to either twirl my thumbs in boredom or be profoundly effected as those truths trickle into my stubborn heart. I know that I am righteous in Christ, but do I feel it? I know that I am a son, but why do I act like an orphan so much? I know that my wife is a daughter of God, but why do I treat her otherwise at times?
Sure, we can always dive the depths of systematic theologies. But diving and dwelling where most don't swim, has been an escape mechanism to get away from people. It has been my attempt to keep from facing the reality that I just don't love people well.
A few weeks ago I was up to my orphan ways, and consequently without the company of my wife. I called our mentor an hour before we were supposed to meet to let him know what was going on. After listening to me and asking a few questions here and there, he began to point out to me the parts of my life that were less than holy. Like a surgeon, he skillfully peeled back the layers of my life and exposed what was really wrong with me.
And then he told me that this course is not designed to fix me. That it was probable we would get to the end and I would continue to act the way I was acting. As my heart sunk, I kept listening. He said that the purpose of the course was to expose our need for Christ. It was to show why we do not deserve his presence and acceptance; why we should be orphans and not sons and daughters.
After an hour of conversing, he told me to stand in awe, that in light of all of my sin and selfishness, the Lord delights in me because of Christ.
I broke. My cold heart bled a bit. My dry eyes wept a bit.
You will have to excuse the personal tone of this post, as well as many others as of late. I am going through a transition. For too long I have trusted that learning a new theological fact was the same as leaning upon Christ the foundation. I have confused knowledge with faith, learning with love. I have made every religious attempt to exempt myself from the very category that Jesus came to save - sinners who are sick and needy (Luke 5:31-32).
I am reminded now of the glorious truth that we don't have to be well to come to Jesus. We don't have to be right to be righteous. And we don't have to be perfect to be perfectly accepted. Christ did it all and gives it all. And because he does, as the old hymn so gloriously confesses, "We need him every hour."
Monday, June 25, 2012
Free Book - "A Church in the House" by Henry
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