Just as we made machines that can lift more than we can and move faster than we can, we have now designed machines that can know more and communicate more in a shorter period of time. If thinking is defined as memory, factual recall, and the ability to swiftly convert factual recall into written (or verbal) communication, then we have designed machines that can think better than we can.
We have always produced machines to reduce our labour. These machines are necessarily stronger than we are. The Industrial Revolution produced machines that could build bigger, better and faster than human hands could manage.
In the 20th century, we produced machines that could calculate more and faster than we could, machines that could store and remember more information than we could. We then produced machines that could combine this and beat us at chess. In other words, by one metric, even the computers of the 20th century were ‘smarter’ than us. Our software could reveal more in seconds than our library research could have produced after hours of page turning.
The last years represent another threshold. We have now produced machines that can mimic and understand language. Combined with massive storage, and a huge range of examples, we now have machines that can write faster, and sometimes, better than we can: essays, descriptions, instructions, poems, riddles, jokes, speeches, or sermons. Similarly AI can now code software better than we can, and perform visual design of graphics, websites, presentations and eventually, live-action movies, and simulations. Whereas we thought that creative activity would always be the domain of the human, we have now trained computers to mimic the creative process and perform it faster than we can.
For example, I asked ChatGPT to write a prayer by Charles Spurgeon. After about ten seconds, it had the following:
“O Lord, we would delight ourselves in You who are the chief of all delights. We thank You that of Your own good pleasure You bring salvation to sinful men. We confess that before You made us to differ, we were as others are, dead in trespasses and sins, having no hope and without God in the world. We bless You for the eternal covenant by which You foresaw us and chose us to be Your own, and for the precious blood of Christ by which we are redeemed. We pray that we may never lose sight of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, the infinite mercy of divine love, and the fullness of grace that dwells in Jesus. May the Holy Spirit who has begun the work of grace in us carry it onward to completion until we are complete in Christ, and find our joy and satisfaction in His service; for the Lord’s sake. Amen.”
Read More

The Holy Spirit of God, who first hovered over the waters of creation, spoke through prophets and Apostles, and was poured out at Pentecost as a witness to Christ’s promise of another Paraclete (comforter, sustainer, equipper, counselor). Jesus continues His ministry to His disciples by means of the Spirit as His personal, representative agent. The Spirit’s work, at all times, is to draw attention to Christ.

Creation
The ancient hymn Veni Creator Spiritus, composed in the eighth century and part of the Roman breviary of Vespers, is a hymn extolling the Holy Spirit. John Dryden’s magnificent translation renders the opening lines this way: “Creator Spirit, by whose aid the world’s foundations first were laid.”
The activity of the Holy Spirit as Creator finds expression in the second verse of the Bible! Describing the undeveloped creation as “without form and void” and in “darkness,” the author describes the Spirit of God as “hovering over the face of the waters” (Gen. 1:2). Forming a bookend at the close of this opening chapter of Scripture comes the pronouncement of the creation of man: “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness” (Gen. 1:26). The use of the pronoun “our” is a reference to the triune Godhead, which includes the Holy Spirit. From the very beginning, the Holy Spirit has been the executive of the creative activity of God. In the creation of the world, as well as the creation of man in particular, the Holy Spirit was the divine agent.
Pentecost
At the dawning of the new covenant era, Pentecost would be demonstrative of a similar work of creation, or, better, re-creation. Fallen humanity is to be transformed by the Spirit to a degree unknown under the old covenant.
In an action that was meant to be symbolic of Pentecost, Jesus, in an incident that followed His resurrection, illustrated Pentecost’s significance by breathing on His disciples and saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit” (John 20:22). The action is a reminder of the opening sequence of Genesis: the Holy Spirit, the “breath of God,” is the agent of the “breath of life” (Gen 2:7; John 20:22). As God breathed life into Adam, so Jesus, “the last Adam,” breathes new life into His people. Jesus becomes, in Paul’s language, “a life-giving spirit” (1 Cor. 15:45). Pentecost was an epochal event, signifying the dawning of a new era.
Midway between creation and re-creation, Pentecost is the point after which it can be said, “the end of the ages has dawned” (1 Cor. 10:11). Historically, at nine o’clock in the morning, the Spirit gave the disciples a clear understanding of Jesus’ role in redemption and consummation, equipping them with extraordinary boldness in making Jesus known. The gift of tongues that accompanied the outpouring of the Spirit enabled folk from different countries to hear the gospel in their own languages. In an instant, the curse of Babel was arrested (Gen. 11:7–9). Spirit empowered disciples were thus motivated and enabled to take the message of reconciliation to the nations of the world in the certainty that God would accomplish that which He promised (Luke 24:48; Acts 1:4). What appears to be a blessing for the gentiles proves to be a judgment upon Israel. The very sound of the gospel in languages other than their own confirmed the covenantal threat of God issued in Isaiah: “For by people of strange lips and with a foreign tongue the Lord will speak to this people” (Isa. 28:11).
What was to be a blessing for the nations proved to be the very instrument of hardening to Israel, until the “fullness” of the gentiles is brought in (Rom. 11:25).
With this interpretation of Pentecost, repetition cannot be envisioned. Though history records many “outpourings” of the Spirit in extraordinary displays of revival, none of these, strictly speaking, is a repetition of Pentecost. Pentecost marked the major turning point from old to new covenantal administrations. The days of type and shadow were replaced by days of fulfillment and reality.
Read More
Related Posts:

Written by Reuben M. Bredenhof |
Sunday, November 13, 2022
Much more than remembering the good ol’ days when life seemed better, Asaph in Psalm 77 is remembering the Lord and his great works and loving ways. These days we call it self-talk, or maybe “preaching to yourself,” when we remind ourselves of the holiness and goodness and faithfulness of God. And it is a good thing to do, and often.

Long before we get to the end of Psalm 77, we know it will turn out well.
How? In the opening verse, Asaph says: “I cried out to God with my voice…and He gave ear to me” (v. 1). He was in trouble, but he wants to immediately reassure us: God heard him!
For it cannot end badly when we begin with prayer. When we’re distressed or worried about something, we shouldn’t rationalize it away, or laugh it away, or drink it away, or find some other escape. No, we should pray. Pray at once. Pray, for our God in Christ has an open ear. He is sufficient to meet our concerns, and always willing to help. It was through giving voice to his despair to God that Asaph gained peace.
But first consider the trials of this lowly soul, recorded in verse 2:
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord.
Other Psalms mention a range of problems and concerns: the pursuit of enemies, a body wracked by illness, the heart oppressed by guilt. But not here. This child of God is overwhelmed, depressed and embittered, for some unnamed reason.
And saying so little of the cause opens up Psalm 77 to even more people. For everyone has some measure of trouble. We can mention the loneliness that God’s children experience, or the misery of chronic pain, or a flood of family disappointments, and conflict with other people, and anxiety over finances, and regret over the past. You can surely add your own.
In the day of trouble, we all know what to do. Asaph tells us, “My hand was stretched out in the night without ceasing” (v. 2). This is the posture for prayer: reaching out for the LORD. Asaph is going to the right place. But notice a couple things about this prayer, things which reveal how deeply distressed he is.
First, he’s praying “in the night,” when he should be sleeping. Trouble can be so bad that it won’t even let a person rest. Instead of being a time of sweet relief and comfort, night-time can see us oppressed by our thoughts and unable to overcome our anxieties. In nervous fear, we toss and turn.
On the one hand, tomorrow can’t come soon enough because then we’ll actually be able to do something. But we also know that when tomorrow comes, the difficult situation will only confront us again. So the psalmist can’t sleep, nor even talk coherently: “You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak” (v. 4).
He’s praying, but it’s really difficult.
Read More
Related Posts: