Written by J.V. Fesko |
Saturday, April 6, 2024
I believe, therefore, that when you finish seminary, you should be excited and proud. It’s a terrific accomplishment. But don’t think that you’ve arrived. You’ll likely spend the rest of your life learning, and such a journey is most definitely rewarding. I love learning new things and discovering how little I know. It’s actually quite comforting because it reminds me how great and omniscient our covenant God is.

At seminary I always look forward to May because it means graduation! I’m excited for the students who have worked hard for a number of years and finally reach the end of their goal—they are the proud owners of a shiny new masters degree! For most, it’s an exciting time—they smile because they’ve finished and can now turn their attention to books of their own choosing rather than those that are assigned on the syllabus. But almost invariably I also observe something else—some exhibit a swagger. I can hear it in their tone of speech and in the looks on their faces—students ask questions in class or make comments and sound very confident.
From one vantage point I completely understand the attitude—“I have just spent the last three years of my life studying the Bible full time. I know Greek and Hebrew, I know philosophical, theological, epistemological, and eschatological terms! I’ve read Calvin, Bavinck, Aquinas, and Hodge, and I even know what the Enuma Elish is!” The assumption is, I have learned all there is to know. I even suspect that some students think they’ve heard and read it all—they hit a plateau and think that there’s probably little else.
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Written by J.V. Fesko |
Monday, March 11, 2024
In our sin-fallen, law-cursed state, all people are in slavery to sin and in bondage to Satan, the prince of the power of the air (Eph. 2:2). Of course, all who sin are subject to death, since “the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23), or as Paul elsewhere writes, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law” (1 Cor. 15:56). Blessedly, God does not leave us in our cursed state but has sent His Son to redeem us: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Gal. 4:4). Christ became a curse for us so that we would not have to bear the law’s awful load (3:13).

The liberty which Christ hath purchased for believers under the gospel consists in their freedom from the guilt of sin, the condemning wrath of God, the curse of the moral law; and, in their being delivered from this present evil world, bondage to Satan, and dominion of sin; from the evil of afflictions, the sting of death, the victory of the grave, and everlasting damnation; as also, in their free access to God, and their yielding obedience unto him, not out of slavish fear, but a childlike love and willing mind. All which were common also to believers under the law. But, under the new testament, the liberty of Christians is further enlarged, in their freedom from the yoke of the ceremonial law, to which the Jewish church was subjected; and in greater boldness of access to the throne of grace, and in fuller communications of the free Spirit of God, than believers under the law did ordinarily partake of. —Westminster Confession of Faith 20.1
The French novelist Victor Hugo (1802–85) writes of the fall and redemption of Jean Valjean, the chief protagonist of his popular book Les Misérables. Valjean found himself released from prison after serving nineteen long and arduous years for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his famished family. After his release, he eventually found shelter in a local church. Desperate for money, Jean stole the bishop’s silverware and plates but was promptly captured by the police. When the police came to the bishop to verify that the stolen property was his, the bishop told Valjean: “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to what is evil but to what is good. I have bought your soul to save it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.” This little vignette provides glimmers of what Christ has accomplished for us in our redemption through the price that He paid in His life, suffering, and death on the cross. Westminster Confession of Faith 20.1 explains this as “the liberty which Christ hath purchased for believers.”
Out from under Satan, Sin, and Death
To appreciate our freedom in Christ, we first need to contemplate the nature of our previous bondage to Satan, sin, and death. Our captivity is writ large across the canvas of redemptive history in Israel’s slavery in Egypt. The book of Exodus tells us that “the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery” (2:23) as they were in a state of affliction and suffering (3:7). As Israel was in slavery, so we are enslaved to sin. What Pharaoh was to Israel, Satan is to sinners. In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul describes our sin-enslaved condition in blunt terms:
You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath. (Eph. 2:1–3)
In his famous diagnosis of fallen humanity, Paul describes us as those who do not seek God, who have become worthless, who do not do good, whose throats are open graves, and who use their tongues for deception (Rom. 3:11–13). As we survey the people whom we see in our day-to-day lives, we certainly observe wicked people doing sinful things, but so many people give the appearance of being decent and moral. Beneath the veil of respectability lies the pallor of death wrapped in the chains of sin and guilt. Because all humans are guilty of both Adam’s first sin and their own personal sins, all humans justly fall under God’s wrath and condemnation (Rom. 1:18–32; 5:12–14).
There are several consequences of our sin-fallen condition. All humans bear the burden of the guilt of sin. Every time we commit sin against God and His law, we incur legal guilt. There is a subjective side to guilt, for we sense that we do wrong as our consciences accuse or excuse our conduct (2:15). Yet guilt is not simply a feeling but an objective legal debt that all sinners incur for violating God’s law. A powerful image of guilt comes to us from John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, where the main character, Christian, carries a massive burden on his back that weighs him down. Given that we are guilty of sin, this means that God’s wrath hangs over our heads. As Paul writes, “The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18, KJV).
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Written by J. V. Fesko |
Thursday, February 29, 2024
The pastor reports to his elders—they alone have the authority to oversee the pastor and his conduct. Recognize the difference between matters of morality and Christian liberty. And don’t always assume that the pastor’s salary pays for everything that you see. It could very well be a gift or some other form of income that has provided him and his family with a needed amenity. Assume the best, not the worst, about your pastor and his family. And do what you can to make life in the bubble more bearable for them.

One of the challenges that pastors and their families face is life in the goldfish bowl. In many other vocations a person can go to work, do his job, come home, and his home life and family stay out of view. My father worked for a tech giant for 37 years and I can count on my fingers the number of times that I interacted with my father’s co-workers. The same cannot be said about the pastor and his family.
When a church hires a pastor there is the expectation that he will bring his family to church with him. This means, like it or not, everyone in the church observes the pastor’s family on a regular basis. For better or worse, people in the church see most everything that the pastor’s family does: they take note of the clothes they wear, the books they read, the car that brings them to church, the movies they talk about, and their behavior. For example, I once rented a car to drive to presbytery and the rental agency was closed on Saturday when I returned. I decided to drive the car to church on Sunday morning and then return it first thing Monday morning. Other factors in this scenario were: I received a free upgrade because the “fancy” car was all they had in the lot; my gas and the cost of the rental were covered by my presbytery, which reimbursed ministers for the mileage they drove. So, everything was above-board in this situation. Nevertheless, when I drove up to church that Sunday morning my wife overheard someone say, “Well, I guess we must be paying the pastor too much money if he’s driving a new car!” Rightly or wrongly, I gently informed this person of the situation and they seemed to be relieved.
In another scenario I was walking out of church after a Sunday morning worship service. It seemed like an ordinary Sunday—in particular, there were a number of small children and infants making their usual noises during the worship service. But whose child was singled out as making a lot of noise that morning? Yes, my one-year-old son. The reality of the situation was that my son wasn’t in the worship service that morning—
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Written by J. V. Fesko |
Sunday, December 24, 2023
In the third verse of our hymn, given what appears in the first two verses, Christ’s redemption is cast in terms of the eschatological, or final, exodus. It is no longer the exodus from the tyranny of Pharaoh, nor is it the exodus from Babylon, that appears. Rather, Jesus brings an exodus from the oppressive rule of Satan, sin, and death: O come, thou Rod of Jesse, free. Thine own from Satan’s tyranny; From depths of hell thy people save, and give them vict’ry o’er the grave. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel. Shall come to thee, O Israel.

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” is one of the better-known hymns that is typically sung during the Christmas season. What some may not know is that it originated in the Middle Ages, around A.D. 800, as an antiphon, or anthem, that was restructured into verse form in the 1100’s and was eventually published in Latin in 1710. The hymn was later discovered, translated, and published in 1851 by John Mason Neale, an Anglican minister.
As people sing this hymn, they know that they are singing about the birth of Christ. However, what is striking about this hymn is the way in which it unpacks the birth of Christ. It moves from the shadows of the Old Testament into the light of the New Testament with the revelation of God in Christ. This hymn traces the themes of Israel’s exodus to the eschatological, or final, exodus that was to begin with the birth of the Messiah.
We can see this progressive unfolding of God’s redemptive plan if we turn to the Old Testament and begin with Israel’s exile in Babylon.
Mourning in Lonely Exile
In Israel’s earliest days as a nation, God brought his people out of Egypt, made a covenant with them, and began to lead them to the land of promise—the land that he had sworn to give to Abraham and his descendants (Gen. 15:18-21). Israel, of course, was a cantankerous nation and lacked the faith to enter the Promised Land, to believe in the gospel promise of God (Heb. 3:18-4:2).
When Israel had finished her forty-year wandering and stood at the threshold of the Promised Land, it was undoubtedly a time of excitement and hope. The people of Israel were at last going to enter the land promised to their patriarch Abraham so long before.
On the eve of their entry into the land, however, Moses wrote an inspired prophetic song. This song was filled with praises for their covenant Lord, but at the same time it foretold Israel’s future disobedience and sin (Deut. 32:20-24). Israel did fulfill these words and was carried off into exile because of their sin, idolatry, and rebellion. The northern kingdom of Israel was taken away by the Assyrians in the eighth century B.C., and the southern kingdom of Judah was taken away into captivity by the Babylonians in the sixth century B.C.
Over the centuries, millions of people have been displaced by war—exiled from their home country. However, Israel’s exile in Babylon was unique, because Israel was the only nation on the face of the earth with whom God had made a covenant. Just as God had put Adam, the first man and God’s son (Luke 3:38), in the garden-temple of Eden, so he had given Israel, his firstborn son (Ex. 4:22), a fruitful land—one flowing with milk and honey, one that was also marked by God’s very own presence.
In the same way that God walked in the cool of the day with Adam in the beautiful garden-temple (Gen. 3:8), so too God walked with Israel in the Promised Land by his presence in the tabernacle (Lev. 26:11-12; 2 Sam. 7:6). Yet, like Adam before them, Israel sinned, which caused the prophet Hosea to cry out: “Like Adam they transgressed the covenant” (Hos. 6:7).
As punishment for their disobedience, like Adam before them, the people of Israel were exiled from the presence of God. Israel was carried into exile to Babylon, longing for the presence of God, longing for God to redeem them and ransom them from their captivity. However, the faithful remnant did not desire merely to return to the land, but ultimately for God to dwell once again in their presence (Ps. 137:1-4). As Israel sat in exile by the waters of Babylon, there was still hope of redemption.
Many undoubtedly looked to the prophetic words of Isaiah: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isa. 7:14). There was a coming child, one who would save Israel—the Lord’s presence in the flesh. In this regard, we should note that the word Immanuel (also spelled Emmanuel) means “God with us.”
Perhaps now we have a better idea of what lies behind the first two verses of our hymn:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, thou Lord of might,
who to thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times didst give the law
in cloud and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to thee, O Israel.

Here the hymn recounts the faithful remnant in exile in Babylon, longing and looking for the birth of their Savior. Our hymn couches this desire in terms of the biblical theme of the eschatological exodus, evident in the connections between Israel’s exile in Babylon and the exodus from Egypt by reference to God’s presence on Sinai.
The Shoot of Jesse and the Key of David
The prophet Isaiah, however, had much more to say about this coming Savior. Many Old Testament saints knew that the coming Savior would come from the line of David (2 Sam. 7:12-13). However, the nation was in ruin, and the temple, God’s dwelling place, was razed to a pile of rubble. It seemed as though David’s line had been cut off. Once again Isaiah prophesied: “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit” (Isa. 11:1).
Here the prophet likens the Davidic dynasty to a stump—
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Written by J.V. Fesko |
Wednesday, November 29, 2023
Digital communication is convenient, but in counseling and debate situations, it’s best to conduct these face-to-face. Sit down over a cup of coffee and counsel or engage in debate. In some circumstances, digital communication may be the only option, though I would sooner resort to a phone call. Leave logistical matters to e-mail (time, place, dates, etc.) and conduct serious matters in person.

In the digital age communication is as convenient as ever. We can make a phone call from our cars or the remotest of locations, send an e-mail, or even twitter away till our thumbs get numb. But just because we can do something doesn’t automatically mean that we should do it. As easy as communication is, avoid any serious communication with members of your church via e-mail, twitter, or the Facebooks. Why is this the case? There are three major reasons.
First, digital communication is incredibly impersonal—you lose a lot. There is no eye contact, no voice inflection, no audible form by which a person can determine whether a questionable phrase is intended as sarcasm, compassion, or anger, for example. Second, digital communication is frequently done on the fly. In days gone by people would be very careful about what they wrote because paper was expensive and writing or typing something could take a lot of time. In other words, digital communication is cheap, which means that a person might not give a whole lot of thought to the words that he’s writing before he hits “send” or “post.” This means that someone might quickly fire off some insensitive or thoughtless regrettable words. Third, if you’ve ever been involved in an e-mail discussion or debate, you know that the message thread can get very long and convoluted. In the thousands of words that get splattered onto the computer screen, a person can become lost very quickly, which provides much grist for the anger mill. Bottom line, digital communication is not optimal as a venue for serious communication.
On the other hand, there are a number of reasons why counseling and debate should be handled in person. First, eye contact and body language are crucial in difficult circumstances. A seasoned pastor will be able to tell, for example, when a person is lying merely by reading body language. There are certain “tells” that can alert a person to deceit. Second, in some circumstances, physical contact is crucial. Giving a man a brotherly embrace after serious loss or significant disagreement can be vital to conveying compassion or genuine forgiveness. Third, in debate sometimes forgotten words are best left forgotten rather than “entered into the e-mail transcript” where they fester and cause people to hold on to bitterness.
Yes, digital communication is convenient, but in counseling and debate situations, it’s best to conduct these face-to-face. Sit down over a cup of coffee and counsel or engage in debate. In some circumstances, digital communication may be the only option, though I would sooner resort to a phone call. Leave logistical matters to e-mail (time, place, dates, etc.) and conduct serious matters in person.
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