Being Lights in a Profane World
Christians are baptized in the very name of God. We are blessed to have this name placed upon us—the God of the universe claims us for his own! Let us always strive to show God the proper love, fear, reverence, and gratitude by our speech and actions.
Our modern culture easily falls into irreverent and profane behavior. We hear it in the grocery store, out at restaurants, and in entertainment. We have lost as a culture the understanding of reverence for God and so have become more debased in how we comport ourselves toward God and toward others. The Bible teaches us that we are to always show the highest respect and reverence for God’s name:
“You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.” (Exod. 20:7)
“You shall not swear by my name falsely, and so profane the name of your God: I am the Lord.” (Lev. 19:12)
Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. (Col. 4:6)
Christians are to be light and salt to the world.
Christians are supposed to have speech that is glorifying to God, “seasoned with salt” (Col. 4:6).
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Walking on the Emmaus Road at Christmas
Written by C. R. Carmichael |
Thursday, December 22, 2022
As we walk down the road to Christmas Day, may we as joyful disciples draw alongside the true Jesus, our risen Lord and Savior, and learn from Him as He tarries with us along the way. Yes, sometimes it is hard to see Him in the dimness of this dark world; but through faith, our Savior is as real to us as if we saw Him with mortal eyes.Would you walk with me as we travel through this holiday landscape towards Christmas just as two disciples once found themselves on the road to Emmaus?
Perhaps, like those like-minded travelers, we are a little dazed and confused by the events of the season where Jesus Christ has been removed from much of the social scene and replaced with non-offensive symbols, empty traditions and generic spirituality. Oh, sure, Jesus is still remembered from time to time, but the figure of Christ that the world puts before our eyes is often so distorted that we do not even recognize Him anymore.
Who is this “TV Jesus” that speaks “cool lines” that are “theologically plausible,” but outside the inspired word of God? What are we to make of the “Transgender Jesus” that is defended by a Cambridge dean as a “legitimate” viewpoint? And why are people laughing at the “Meme Jesus” in social media who wears swag gear and sunglasses to make hip, coarse jokes?
No wonder people are losing the true joy of the season! Are we to believe that this common depression is solely due to a seasonal affective disorder during shortened winter days? Is it from unmet expectations of a romantic Hallmark Christmas that never materializes in real life?
More likely, as sincere believers, we are somewhat discouraged by the hype and idolatry that corrupts the very real and profound incarnation of our Lord and Savior and turns that joyous, historic event into the consumer-driven focus of tinseled pine, a jolly old elf, and a red-nosed reindeer. No wonder we sometimes speak to each other of spiritual weariness, melancholy, or confusion in the midst of this pretense. What happened to our once-clear view of Jesus Christ now obstructed by all these twinkling baubles in the world?
It is here that I find great comfort in thinking about the two disciples on their way to Emmaus, who were confused and saddened by what had transpired in Jerusalem with the unexpected death of Jesus. They, too, had momentarily lost sight of their Lord, but how gracious Jesus was to walk beside them in their hour of need.
Likewise, how marvelous it would be if the Lord Jesus would see us traveling along in a similar spiritual malaise this Christmas season and graciously draw near to us to ask, “What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?”
Then I, like Cleopas, would answer Him, “Do you not see what is happening in these days?” And He would say to us, “What things?” And I would say to Him, “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of the living God, who has been relegated to the icon of a plastic doll in a fictional nativity scene, surrounded by three kings of the orient, a drummer boy, and a talking ox; and how priests still deliver Him up to crucify him again and again to no avail. How can we still see the true Christ when the world has brought forth a Jesus of vain tradition that is too often confused with Santa Claus?”
And Jesus might say to us, as He did to them: “O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?”
And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, He expounds to us in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.
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A Response to David Coffin Concerning Overtures 23 and 37—Part Three
And so the end result of it all is that we find a member of our high court saying that more harm will be done by barring self-professed homosexuals from office than by allowing it to them, and doing his utmost to plead their case in the guise of speaking as a disinterested ecclesiastical judge. Let the reader ponder that, weep, and pray earnestly to God that he opens our eyes and grants us repentance.
In the previous installments (Part One and Part Two) we considered David Coffin’s arguments against Overtures 23 and 37 to the Presbyterian Church in America’s Book of Church Order (BCO). Now we conclude by responding to his final arguments against Overture 37 (O37). In this section we find Coffin objecting to the requirement that “in an examination for office, with respect to personal character, the court is directed to give ‘specific attention to potentially notorious concerns.’” He says “the phrase ‘potentially notorious concerns’ is problematic for a rule to give guidance to an examination” and that it is “a peculiar requirement, as it is hard to see how potential notoriety is a relevant concern in this context.” Why is it odd to consider how a man’s character and reputation might be perceived by others, both within the church and without (1 Tim. 3:2, 7; Titus 1:6-7)?
Coffin says that “what follows is a parade of horribles, beginning with ‘relational sins.’ I must confess that I haven’t a clue what ‘relational sins’ refers to.” The section of O37 that Coffin is referencing is meant to modify BCO 21-4e. Compare BCO 21-5, Q. 7:
Do you engage to be faithful and diligent in the exercise of all your duties as a Christian and a minister of the Gospel, whether personal or relational, private or public; and to endeavor by the grace of God to adorn the profession of the Gospel in your manner of life, and to walk with exemplary piety before the flock of which God shall make you overseer? (emphasis added)
It is reasonable to conclude that “relational” has the same meaning in O37 when it is attached to “sins” as it does in the current BCO 21-5 when it describes a minister’s duties. If relational duties are those that touch upon how an elder relates to his church, presbytery, etc., then it follows that relational sins are ones in which an elder does not stand in a right relation to the various people and courts to which he is bound by oath and possession of office. One might be forgiven for thinking that Coffin, as an officer who has answered BCO 21-5’s ordination questions, and, yet more, as an SJC member, ought to understand the meaning of the term.
He continues by objecting to O37’s parenthetical elaboration of “sexual immorality” with such examples as fornication and pornography use, asking “why these, and not other forms of sexual sin?” and “what is the standard for inclusion?” He objects to such a list, saying that “when you have a list, as part of a rule, the question provoked is always, what of the matters left out?” He admits the overture’s mitigation (“such as, but not limited to”), but thinks it insufficient:
Whenever one puts such a list in a rule, the question is always, are there other concerns or not? And if there are other concerns, why are these more important than the ones left out? Do these have some special significance that others do not have? Such language introduces significant uncertainty as how the rule is to be interpreted.
In this objection the TE Coffin ‘misses the forest for the trees.’ His objection fails to recognize the important fact that a list can be intended to give an idea of what is meant without trying to be a complete catalogue. The use of non-exhaustive lists is an accepted type of legislative style, and it appears already in the current BCO (e.g., 34-7).
Coffins says that, “The last defect to consider, and it strikes me as fatal, is found in these words: ‘While imperfections will remain, he must not be known by reputation or self-profession according to his remaining sinfulness but rather by the work of the Holy Spirit in Christ Jesus.’” This means simply that men shouldn’t have bad reputations or be conspicuous for their tendency to always modify ‘Christian’ with an adjective describing a sinful lifestyle when they describe themselves. Yet Coffin regards it as insurmountably difficult. A thought: maybe the problem lies rather with the critic than with the language? He continues his objection here:
This requires the examining court to have some way of discovering both how a person is seen by others (some others, or a majority of others?) and how a person speaks about himself (some of the time, or most of the time?). Is he known by others according to his remaining sinfulness (some or mostly?) and does he speak of himself with respect to his remaining sinfulness (some or mostly?) rather than the work of the Holy Spirit?
Coffin’s quarrel isn’t with Overture 37 at this point: it’s with the Apostle Paul. Apply Coffin’s argument that such careful examination of reputation/character is impracticable to 1 Tim. 3:2 (“Therefore an overseer must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach”) and 3:7 (“Moreover, he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace, into a snare of the devil”), both of which set high standards that require diligent verification, and you can see the impropriety of his objection.
Indeed, Coffin’s quarrels with our current standards, as BCO 21-4 already establishes that a presbytery is to carefully examine a candidate’s “acquaintance with experiential religion, especially his personal character and family management (based on the qualifications set out in 1 Timothy 3:1-7, and Titus 1:6-9).” And in so far as O37 and BCO 21-4 are essentially based upon Paul’s admonitions concerning the character of elders, Coffin comes near to having a critical attitude to the substance, if not the letter, of Scripture itself.
But perhaps the most curious thing about Coffin’s objection here is that it brings him into contradiction with himself. Near the end of his piece, he quotes the portion of BCO 21-4 that I have just quoted and says that this “and the like language in BCO 24-1, has been, and will continue to be, sufficient to set forth concisely the examining court’s Scriptural responsibility.” Follow the logic here. When O37 suggests a rigorous examination of a candidate’s character and reputation Coffin launches a flurry of detailed objections that he thinks make it impracticable. When our current standards already require such a rigorous examination, he thinks it makes them perfectly sufficient and lovely. The only difference between Overture 37 and the current BCO 21-4 is that Overture 37 seeks to elaborate upon the required examination, and to give some detailed instruction as to what it should include.
In continuing his line of argument Coffin makes a curious claim, for he says this of examining a man’s reputation:
This presents the court with a remarkably difficult and complicated task. Consider, for example, Rosaria Butterfield, a same-sex attracted woman who, by God’s grace, came to faith in Christ, and has done wonderful work in sharing her testimony. Let us imagine she was a man, and thus potentially qualified for office. The sentence under review, it seems, would exclude her from office because she is surely known by reputation and by her self-profession according to her remaining sinfulness. She is, of course, known for more. However, the text requires “not be known” by remaining sinfulness “but rather by” the work of the Holy Spirit. This phrasing presents a false dichotomy.
It is not “remarkably difficult and complicated” to determine whether men are known by their sin rather than by the work of grace in their lives when they very conspicuously describe themselves as ‘[insert adjective for sinful lifestyle here] Christians’ in front of the whole world. That notwithstanding, look at Coffin’s claims about Rosaria Butterfield. I have never read or heard where Mrs. Butterfield regards herself as ‘same-sex attracted’ or wishes to be known as such by others, and this runs contrary to all I have ever heard from her on this point. Indeed, I am confident that she would not appreciate being called a “same-sex attracted woman,” and on her website she describes herself as a “former professor” and “homeschool mother, author, and speaker,” whose mentions of her former life seem to always to speak of it as past, not present.
It is, to boot, a weird argument – if Rosaria were a man . . . but she’s not, and if she were it does not follow that she would either desire office or consider herself fit for it. It is hard to escape the feeling that Coffin just wanted an excuse to mention Butterfield and try to (mistakenly) claim her as an example for his side. And even if we grant his argument, substituting, say, Sam Allberry (as David Cassidy does), his conclusion is meaningless: for many men of talent and virtue are yet not fit for office, it being restricted to the narrow class of the called and qualified, and there being more to the qualifications than some virtues and talent. In this same vein Coffin quotes Kyle Keating’s Assembly speech:
I don’t believe it was the intent of those who put forth these overtures to disqualify men like me from ordained office. I think, however, that these overtures are worded in a way that they could very well be used to accomplish that purpose. Does the Body really wish to put this language in our Book of Church Order that could potentially be used to disqualify men in good standing who are a part of the kind of work that put together this report on human sexuality?
Here plainness of speech is needed, and I bid you remember, dear reader, that such bluntness is no arrogance or unkindness, but rather in keeping with the injunctions of Scripture (e.g., Lev. 19:17). Those of us that believe the denomination needs a strong response to our worldliness in these matters believe that this language is intended to divest and bar from office all men who experience homosexual lust, including Mr. Keating. Maybe we are wrong in interpreting it that way, but I ask: if divestiture and prohibition is not the intention, what do Keating and Coffin or anyone else think the point of Overture 37 is?
For his part Coffin asserts that Keating’s speech “should have carried the day” and says that it “is my hope that his speech will now help us to remedy our error.” In this he shows he is a partisan, not an objective ecclesiastical legal ‘expert,’ a thing which the reader ought to bear in mind as he ponders Coffin’s arguments.
In concluding let me note that I have argued against certain elements of Coffin’s opposition to Overtures 23 and 37; I am not directly arguing for the overtures. Much good will hopefully come from them if they pass (as seems likely, if not certain), but there are also good reasons for being suspicious of or even opposed to at least Overture 23, and perhaps 37 as well (see Larry Ball’s “Why I Plan to Vote Against BCO Homosexual Changes”). Those reasons are not for the most part Coffin’s reasons, however. The concern here was not that Coffin and others oppose the overtures, but on what grounds, and of what this says about their theories of polity and practice. It seems we are bent on worldly respectability at any cost and sneer at God’s Word with its plain statements on these matters. We pride ourselves on our love of litigiousness, ‘decency,’ ‘maturity,’ and ‘order,’ little realizing that we do but glory in our shame and blinding ourselves to the baleful influence of the world, the flesh, and the cunning devil, all of which lie near in these matters. And so the end result of it all is that we find a member of our high court saying that more harm will be done by barring self-professed homosexuals from office than by allowing it to them, and doing his utmost to plead their case in the guise of speaking as a disinterested ecclesiastical judge. Let the reader ponder that, weep, and pray earnestly to God that he opens our eyes and grants us repentance.
Tom Hervey is a member of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Simpsonville, SC. The opinions expressed here are his own and do not necessarily represent those of the leadership or members of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church. -
What Jordan Peterson Can Teach the Church About Men and Meaning
Peterson’s message is not sufficient to rescue anyone–including him–from God’s righteous judgment. But it has proven a strikingly effective antidote to the spiritual chaos men face in today’s world. The church should take notes, even as we pray Peterson follows the meaning he preaches to its true source.
I recently wrote something on Facebook to the effect that I would rather my boys (ages seven and five) listen to Canadian psychologist Jordan Peterson’s lectures on The Lion King than many sermons and small group lessons I’ve heard addressed to men in church. Given that I am a Christian and Jordan Peterson is not, this may seem like an odd thing to say. But I don’t think it is. Peterson’s ongoing appeal, especially among young men, is a loud reminder that our spiritual needs are not limited to salvation, and that sometimes a thoughtful unbeliever can have a better grasp of those needs than most Christians do.
Since he rose to fame in 2017, Peterson has been an enigma for religious readers. On the one hand, he gives moral counsel it would be tough for anyone to disagree with: “Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world.” “Do not allow yourself to become resentful, deceitful, or arrogant.” “Pursue what is meaningful, not what is expedient.” Proffering this and similar advice in his bestselling books, Twelve Rules for Life and Beyond Order, he has become what one writer called “a societal father figure.” In a time of growing aimlessness, despair, nihilism—and yes, fatherlessness—his message centers on finding meaning, taking on responsibility, and overcoming adversity. These are all themes that appeal on a visceral level to disaffected men.
Yet Peterson’s ambiguity about religion understandably troubles some Christians. He quotes Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung more readily than Jesus Christ. He says he’s not willing to place himself “in a box” by professing orthodox faith. He certainly doesn’t give altar calls. Even so, people regularly say his work saved their lives or gave them new purpose. For those accustomed to proclaiming the gospel as the solution to human sin and misery, this apparently redemptive effect of Peterson’s message can seem odd or even threatening. After all, we Christians have the answer to the world’s deepest problem! If Peterson is offering something different and apparently quenching people’s spiritual thirst, doesn’t that make him a false teacher—a peddler of a self-help gospel?
The answer really lies in whether Peterson is, in fact, peddling a gospel. He doesn’t seem to think he is. Rather, he is teaching readers and audiences what he has taught patients as a clinical psychologist for decades: how to be a human well, how to create order out of relational chaos, how to aim one’s passions toward a purpose, and how to navigate difficult and confusing lives without falling prey to despair. In doing so he is offering all who pick up his work a life-giving alternative to the anything-goes mentality of our age, and is teaching a truth all too rarely acknowledged in Christian churches: that conversion is not the answer to every problem we face, and that pursuing this-worldly meaning is core to how we are created.
Learning from Nature
Peterson teaches people (especially men) how to be human well because he doesn’t believe our nature is malleable. He believes it can be understood, and that thriving comes from following the “maps of meaning” laid down deep in our subconsciousness and even our bodies. This is why he famously begins Twelve Rules for Life by explaining what the endocrine systems of lobsters can teach us about our own minds. Though it’s easy to crack jokes about this or get lost in his evolutionary jargon, we shouldn’t miss Peterson’s point: human beings have a hardwired nature, and living in accordance with that nature—even through acts as simple as standing up straight with your shoulders back—can reduce misery and improve our characters. You will not learn any of this at an altar call, nor in simplistic admonitions to be “Christlike.” Young men in particular, searching as they are for the blueprints to the good life in a world that tells them to draw their own, need more detail than that.
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