Make Our Worship Spaces Presbyterian Again
Our joy and happiness on the Sabbath morning and evening should come not from the elaborate displays of outward means, but from the inward assurance of gospel peace. Lastly the worship that happens in that room should emulate these principles as well. Really all that should take place in a Presbyterian service are the means of grace: preaching, singing, praying, communion, and baptism.
We’ve all heard the jokes about Presbyterian’s being anti-fun, the so-called frozen chosen. The seen, but not heard denomination. The post you are about to read is going to sound like it came from the official spokesman of the “Presbyterians against anything nice” coalition. Maybe it’s true, maybe I am the grumpiest Presbyterian alive, but my goal here today is not to get hits or cause trouble. Rabble rousers are boring people. Men who seek out controversy don’t have enough to do and they aren’t really seeking to win converts to their position. They just like to see the fight.
At the end of the day I’m really a harmless little fuzzball who just wants Presbyterians to be Presbyterians, Baptists to be Baptists, and Anglicans to be Anglicans. Good fences make good neighbors. If you know where the other person stands it makes it easier to know where you stand.
The topic I’d like to get into today is about the meeting space. Some call it the “sanctuary”, others the “preaching hall”, and whatever you want to call it is fine by me. I’m not interested in getting into arguments over words. There are legit reasons why some people demur from the sanctuary term, and why others like it as a description of where we meet for worship. Christians who are members of long-standing congregations likely are used to a more traditionally-expressed term than church plants and/or younger churches. But regardless of where you meet or what you call it there are certain things as Presbyterians we should expect to see, and not see.
In this brief piece I want to talk about some of the reasons behind the austere look favored by the Reformed, where it came from, and why it matters. To be sure there is a sense in which in the New Testament it doesn’t matter where we meet with God’s people. As men and women who descend from Covenanters who hid in vales and caves to lift up the psalms to the Lord and be fed by His word we should acutely feel that. This is also a very American, if not Western, question. I’ve never been to the nations of Africa, but it is a safe assumption through pictures and the witness of native believers that what is expected in Malawi is different than what is to be understood in South Carolina. Part of the beauty of Presbyterian worship is that you don’t need a fancy place with a bunch of pomp and circumstance. All you need is a Bible and Christians. The Scriptures contain the text for instruction and the book of songs to sing, the people have the voices to raise to Heaven.
What more do you need?
Having set the stage let’s get to…setting the stage. One of the first things that marks a Presbyterian meeting place is that the pulpit should be in the center. The Reformers replaced the altar with the stand upon which the Minister placed his Bible. The symbolism was meant to testify to the fact that the preaching of the word was at the forefront of Christian worship. Having a split chancel (two pulpits up front, one to the left and one to the right, usually one larger than the other) usually grants the central space to a table. This is a return back to the Roman rite. As vital and important as the Supper is to the souls of believers we don’t believe it is the primary means of grace.
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Critical Grace Theory
Written by Carl R. Trueman |
Monday, October 16, 2023
Biblical critical theory takes a very different approach. Read Isaiah and Paul and you immediately see that the purpose of their critiques is the restoration of God’s creation and its fulfillment in God’s covenant. Natural law and similar concepts can give us a substantive picture of the moral structure of creation. The Book of Proverbs outlines that architecture in detail. The greater fulfillment is even more concrete, given at Sinai for Jews and enacted in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus for Christians…. Compare this vision to that of Marcuse. For him and other modern theorists, the purpose of critical theory is revolution undertaken in the nebulous hope that something new and just will emerge from the wreckage.As debates over critical race theory rage on, both in society and within the church, one important point seems to have been missed by all sides: Many of the most important biblical writers were among the sharpest critical theorists of their day. I may be naive to imagine that an appreciation of the theological resources available to those who wish to hone their analysis of society might move the current discussions forward—given that so many presume that race, class, gender, sexual identity, and the rest exhaust our critical tools. But Christians, at least, should acknowledge Isaiah and Paul as more fruitful interlocutors than Derrick Bell and Kimberlé Crenshaw.
Isaiah never read The German Ideology of Marx and Engels. Yet he had a clear grasp of how falsehood can supplant truth and lead to the perversion of a culture, a perversion that alienates men and women from themselves, from nature, and from reality. Isaiah’s complaint echoes through his prophecy: Israel had created—we might say socially constructed—gods to replace the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. These social constructions were given material form as idols, and Israelite society, history, and cultic life were reconfigured around their purported power. Isaiah’s divine commission was to expose idolatry as a system of falsehoods—not just deceptions about the true nature of God, but also lies about who should dominate. Injustices flourish when men’s worship is perverted. Moreover, the consciousness of the people was so seared by their wickedness that God told Isaiah at the outset that they would be blind and deaf to his critique of their culture. One could rightly say that Israel was captive to “systemic idolatry.”
In chapter 44, Isaiah describes a man who cuts down a tree and uses half of it to make a fire to cook dinner while fashioning the other half into a god, which he then worships. The critique is powerful. The prophet uses the man’s actions in order to expose the absurdity of his idolatrous behavior. Rather, as later critical theorists might point to the conflict between Jefferson’s proclamation of natural rights in the Declaration and his ownership of slaves, Isaiah here lays bare the internal contradictions of Israelite idolatry, mocking the self-deceptions as Marx would millennia later when commenting on the ideological mystifications of class domination.
The apostle Paul continues in the Old Testament’s critical tradition. In Romans 1, he points to the fact that fallen man has perverted his religious instinct and its natural orientation to worship of the true God. This perversion occurs because we fabricate idols, and by venerating them we direct our attention away from God the creator. Instead of looking upward, idolatrous man looks downward and is bewitched by and enslaved to worldly lusts. Paul recounts the disastrous consequences: the abandonment of natural sexual relations between men and women, and then all manner of wickedness, from envy to actual murder. Our moral depravity and social dysfunctions arise from a fundamental rejection of the truth of God in favor of the lies of idols.
The cultural criticism offered by Isaiah and Paul has two key elements. First, although the criticism shows the perversions of what we now call “systems” or culturally constructed patterns of behavior, it brings into focus our culpability. Yes, the Israelites of Isaiah’s day were embedded in systemic idolatry, as were the people of Paul’s day (and our own day as well). But this “social conditioning” does not exculpate. We are idolaters because we want to be. We are not hapless tools of a system that dominates our individual agency and thus absolves us of any responsibility. Isaiah notes the zeal with which Israel embraces idolatry. Paul links the lust of sexual sin to panting after idols. We want to reject God and create our own gods. Thus, the biblical critique is not only cultural but also spiritual. It convicts idolaters of their personal responsibility for the system within which they operate, a system within which they happily live, even as it contradicts the moral structure of the world God created.
Because the scriptural mode of critique focuses on culpability, the second key element follows: repentance and forgiveness. Isaiah and Paul are aiming to dismantle idolatry as a social system in the way so many call for activism on behalf of “social justice.” They are calling for idolaters to turn from their idolatry and seek forgiveness from God, forgiveness that will not be withheld, because the God of Israel is a merciful God. Again and again, Isaiah calls the people to turn in repentance from their false gods, a perverted worship that causes the grave injustices he recounts. If Israel will return to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, then peace and justice have a chance. Paul’s purpose is the same. He seeks to convict his readers of the dead end of worldliness that flows from worshiping graven images (bondage to sin and death) so that they will turn in repentance and faith to Jesus Christ. In other words, biblical critical theory does not end in “critique”; it aims at transformation through grace.
Secular critical theory ranges from old-fashioned Marxist critical theory based on economic factors to feminist and gay theories of forms of false consciousness that entail repressive social mores. In one way or another, modern critical theory focuses on social construction and the manipulative nature of the dominant narratives cultures tell themselves; the results are not unlike the critiques of idolatry that Isaiah and Paul advance. So it’s not surprising that Christians are attracted to critical theory. Like the Bible’s prophetic tradition, it refuses to take the world at face value and seeks to unmask the discourses of power that structure social relations. Furthermore, the purpose of secular critical theories—which is not merely to expose the world’s ideological captivity but to effect its transformation—resonates with what Isaiah and Paul are doing.
But we do well to remember John Henry Newman’s observation on the nature of heresy: It seizes on one aspect of the truth and presses it at the expense of all others. Secular critical theory is not made necessarily incompatible with Christianity by the substance of its affirmations (although it may be incompatible in respect to some). Taken as a whole, the critical turn in modernity is incompatible with Christianity because it takes a part of the truth and presents it as the whole truth. By advancing a comprehensive theory based on partial truths, it ends up opposing the truth.
The basic hopelessness of the visions espoused by modern critical theorists offers the clearest instance of this opposition. Christianity is a religion of hope, and our hope has a definite shape and content: repentance, faith in Christ, and the consummation of all things in him. By contrast, secular critical theory is utopian in the literal sense of urging us to work to create a “nowhere,” a state of fulfillment lacking in content.
From the early days of the Frankfurt School, which spawned many strands of today’s academic cultural critique, critical theory has been marked by an inability to articulate a positive social vision in anything but the vaguest terms. The lack of a positive vision occurs because, unlike Christianity, critical theory denies that the world has an intrinsic moral shape. The mavens of critique have no conception of the good that needs to be restored. Thus, the positive criteria for social change remain undefined beyond reference to vague but appealing language such as equity, inclusion, and social justice.
In a 1937 essay, “Traditional and Critical Theory,” Max Horkheimer offered an account of critical theory that summarized its purpose and ambition: “For all its insight into the individual steps in social change and for all the agreement of its elements with the most advanced traditional theories, the critical theory has no specific influence on its side, except concern for the abolition of social injustice.”
Two things are striking about this statement. First, Horkheimer makes clear that critical theory is not simply a descriptive approach to interpreting the world. The mere unmasking and analyzing of social relations in terms of manipulation and exploitation is not the goal. The purpose, to borrow a famous phrase from Karl Marx, is not to describe the world but to change it. So far, so good, for a gospel-informed critique of society likewise seeks to midwife transformation, or in Christian language, “conversion.” But, second, Horkheimer expresses this aspiration with a purely negative formulation: the abolition of social injustice. That is a nicely apophatic phrase. The negation of injustice does not produce a substantial positive vision. Horkheimer does not tell the reader exactly—or even approximately—what the hoped-for future entails.
Herbert Marcuse was Horkheimer’s colleague. Perhaps the most culturally influential member of the Frankfurt School, Marcuse was more sanguine about the possibility of realizing heaven on earth. Indeed, he was an unabashed utopian, speaking at times of the abolition of repression. But, like most utopians, he was singularly incapable of giving a positive definition of the wonderland he sought to build. Instead, he filled out his utopian vision with a series of repudiations of everything about modern society that he did not like, combined with wishful pronouncements that everything would be wonderful once corrupt capitalist society had been demolished. Here is a good example:
Marxism must risk defining freedom in such a way that people become conscious of and recognize it as something that is nowhere already in existence. And precisely because the so-called utopian possibilities are not at all utopian but rather the determinate socio-historical negation of what exists, a very real and very pragmatic opposition is required of us if we are to make ourselves and others conscious of these possibilities and the forces that hinder and deny them. An opposition is required that is free of all illusion but also of all defeatism, for through its mere existence defeatism betrays the possibility of freedom to the status quo.
In plain English, Marcuse is saying that we must struggle to achieve nothing that actually exists. Thus hoping in something defined entirely by opposition to that which does exist, the utopian (critical theoretical) project must pit itself implacably against all that is. In short, the goal of Marcuse’s critical theory and of those theories descended from it can be described only in negative terms: anti-capitalism, anti-patriarchy, anti-racism, and so forth. The emphasis falls on dismantling institutions, social relations, or moral codes that stand in the way of the vague but hoped-for future.
There is an obvious problem here: How can the critical theorist define social justice if all that exists is by definition unjust, infected by capitalism, systemic racism, patriarchy, or some other structural injustice? Lacking an account of the moral order of creation, he cannot do so positively. The hope of modern critical theory is that, when everything has been torn down, social justice will emerge. Liberated from the now-vanquished unjust system, like Rousseau’s primitive man untainted by civilization, we will recover our original integrity.
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Overture 2 to the 2022 OPC GA: Help or Hindrance?
I believe that the greatest need the OPC has right now is not another committee, but rather men in leadership and members in our churches who are committed to true and decided piety. This stands as the chief necessity for the eldership and the Christian life (1 Timothy 3:2, 1 Peter 1:16). John Calvin provided this definition: “By piety, I mean a reverence for God arising from a knowledge of His benefits” (Institutes, I.2.1).
As the 88th General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church convenes in the coming days, one of the items on the agenda is Overture 2 from the Presbytery of Ohio. This overture proposes that the Assembly take three principal actions: 1) form a committee of seven to study abuse and report back to the 89th Assembly, possibly with recommendations; 2) authorize the committee to “invite Christians knowledgeable on the topic of abuse to assist the Committee as non-voting consultants;” and 3) fund the committee with a budget of $15,000. In this article, I will seek to highlight some relevant history behind this overture, discuss its grounds, circle back to the actions being proposed, and conclude with some loosely related reflections.
History
This article provides some important details about last summer’s Assembly which are closely related to Overture 2. Last year a commissioner made the following motion:
“That the General Assembly determine to:Resolve more effectively to minister to victims of abuse in the church by retaining the services of G.R.A.C.E. (Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment) to conduct an organizational assessment of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, and authorize the Stated Clerk to execute the agreement necessary to effect this relationship, with a budget of $50,000.
Form a special committee of five, to be appointed by the moderator, with a budget of $1000 to:Assist G.R.A.C.E. in their work, upon their request.
Receive and review, in consultation with select members of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, G.R.A.C.E.’s reports and recommendations.
Present G.R.A.C.E.’s reports and recommendations to the 88th General Assembly.
Propose to the 88th General Assembly such other recommendations related to G.R.A.C.E.’s findings as may serve the Orthodox Presbyterian Church.”After debate, the Assembly ruled a related substitute motion out of order, though sixteen commissioners requested that their positive votes be recorded in the minutes. While last summer’s motion differs significantly from Overture 2, the connection is obvious.
Grounds
The overture provides four grounds (i.e., rationale) for the proposed committee, all of which I am eager to hear explained during the presentation at the Assembly.
Ground 1 provides what appears to be the overture’s working definition of abuse: “misuse of power of various kinds (commonly termed ‘abuse’).” I briefly discussed the deficiency of this definition here. The overture states that both allegations and instances of abuse “raise complex legal, theological, and pastoral issues we cannot minimize, ignore, or dismiss.” While this is true, notice that the end of this sentence is framed negatively. In other words, we cannot do nothing. However, that begs the question of not only what the church ought to do, but how she ought to do it. This is the critical point. It appears that Ground 3 more positively addresses how the church ought to respond to allegations and instances of sin.
Ground 2 attempts to lay an exegetical and confessional foundation for the overture’s aim. Careful interaction with each passage will relegate this article to the bin of TLDR,[1] so here are two comments. First, I am very interested to hear the explanation for these passages. While some apparently support the thrust of the overture, others are rather puzzling (like Exodus 21:15). Second, it is interesting that among the references to the Westminster Larger Catechism (WLC 135, 139, 151), the fifth commandment receives no mention, especially WLC 130.[2]
Ground 3 properly assigns responsibility for dealing righteously with “such sinful behavior” to the elders of Christ’s church, citing the OPC’s Book of Discipline I.3.[3] The antecedent to “such” seems to be “sins of abuse” mentioned in Ground 2. No minister or elder who loves Christ and has sincerely vowed to serve in His Church will ever deny that we must deal with sin, including sins aggravated by abuse. Nevertheless, as I pointed out in a previous article, we must be clear regarding the standard by which elders measure offenses and the purposes for which elders address them. The Book of Discipline rightly states that the standard is the Word of God. The purposes are to honor Christ, purify the church, and reclaim the offenders. We must also remember that our sin is first and foremost an affront to the holy God (Psalm 51:4), and secondly against our neighbors (Matthew 22:34-40). Commissioners to the Assembly need to ensure that we do not make decisions because “the world is watching” (as I have so commonly heard), or while being unduly influenced by secular psychology. We must act in accord with the Word of God and with the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16).[4]
Ground 4 is worth quoting entirely: “Giving careful study to the complexities and consequences of abuse will help us recognize and remedy gaps in our theology and practice in order that we might more effectively minister to victims of abuse with the hope and consolation of the gospel and more readily confront perpetrators of abuse with the need for repentance and faith in Jesus Christ.” While this statement sounds humble, it carries the potential of a dangerous and subtle concession. Here is a critical question: what do the authors of this overture mean, not so much by gaps in practice, but by gaps in our theology? Certainly Westminster Confession of Faith I.6 is relevant to this question, “The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture.” This confessional statement rests upon the inspired Word which says, “His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue” (2 Peter 1:3). Are the alleged gaps subjective (i.e., deficiencies in elders) or are they objective (i.e., deficiencies in our system of theology itself)? This deserves close scrutiny and careful explanation. That we ought always to strive to be effective, Christlike ministers and elders is not in question. We must minister the balm of Gilead to those who have suffered much at the hands of others (Jeremiah 8:22). The key issue is how the committee—if established—would recommend the OPC do so, especially if it recommends changes to the church’s tertiary standards.
Proposed Actions
Could this committee honor Jesus Christ, help the OPC, her members, the broader church, and even our world? Or could it be a hindrance? That will depend upon the men who serve on the committee. If approved, it must be populated by men resolutely committed to the sufficiency of the Word of God and the gospel of free grace in Jesus Christ. They must be unwaveringly committed to Reformed doctrine, piety, and ecclesiology. They must not be spastic, reflexive, or therapeutic, but biblical, analytical, and pastoral. They must not seek to subject the OPC to a governmental substructure like what is happening in the SBC.
The other critical element for this committee—if appointed—is who they would invite to be “non-voting consultants.” The qualifier in this overture is that invitees must be “Christians knowledgeable on the topic of abuse.” That strikes me as an exceedingly broad proviso, especially considering last year’s attempt to hire G.R.A.C.E. How will the committee measure the quality of their knowledge?[5] Will it be required that these Christians hold reformed convictions? The kind of people invited will certainly be determined by the convictions of the men elected to the committee.
I do not know whether the Assembly will pass this overture, so with Proverbs 18:13 in mind, here is my preliminary perspective: a committee like this could be helpful only if it can provide biblical, wise, and godly helps for the church. If not, it could very well lead to disaster.
Concluding Reflections
I believe that the greatest need the OPC has right now is not another committee, but rather men in leadership and members in our churches who are committed to true and decided piety. This stands as the chief necessity for the eldership and the Christian life (1 Timothy 3:2, 1 Peter 1:16). John Calvin provided this definition: “By piety, I mean a reverence for God arising from a knowledge of His benefits” (Institutes, I.2.1).
Here are some sober reflections for myself and all my fellow elders, not only in the OPC, but throughout the broader church. Anemic preaching, neglect of shepherding and discipline, a habit of non-evangelism, departure from the prescribed means of grace, prayerlessness, ministerial pride, and other things contribute massively not only to problems in the church, but in the world. Preaching that does not engage the heart creates a “Christianity” that neither honors Christ nor affects the world. A church without ardent love and earnest holiness will soon be without a lampstand (Revelation 2:5). A nation without the light and salt of Christ’s witnesses will soon find itself spiraling into the darkness of His judgment (Matthew 5:13-16). Remember that judgment begins at the household of God (1 Peter 4:7).
Fellow elders, we must be men who can look at the members of our flocks, with sincerity in our eyes and integrity in our hearts, and say, “Imitate me, as I imitate Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1). We must be able to open our homes in biblical hospitality without fear of being “found out” (1 Timothy 3:2-7). We must shepherd faithfully, gently and tenderly binding up the wounds of the broken (Ezekiel 34:1-4). We must guard both our hearts and the sheep entrusted to us (Acts 20:28). Piety displayed exclusively in public is no piety; that is hypocrisy. Earnestness conjured up during public exhortation is not true zeal; it is merely heat with no true light. Our greatest need is for God to bring true revival of piety into the church through an outpouring of His Spirit and the preaching of His Word. This will change the church—and the world.
Mike Myers is a Minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and is Pastor of Heritage OPC in Royston, Ga. This article is used with permission.[1] Too long, didn’t read.
[2] Q. 130. What are the sins of superiors? A. The sins of superiors are, besides the neglect of the duties required of them, an inordinate seeking of themselves, their own glory, ease, profit, or pleasure; commanding things unlawful, or not in the power of inferiors to perform; counseling, encouraging, or favoring them in that which is evil; dissuading, discouraging, or discountenancing them in that which is good; correcting them unduly; careless exposing, or leaving them to wrong, temptation, and danger; provoking them to wrath; or any way dishonoring themselves, or lessening their authority, by an unjust, indiscreet, rigorous, or remiss behavior.
[3] BD I.3 – Judicial discipline is concerned with the prevention and correction of offenses, an offense being defined as anything in the doctrine or practice of a member of the church which is contrary to the Word of God. The purpose of judicial discipline is to vindicate the honor of Christ, to promote the purity of his church, and to reclaim the offender.
[4] Francis Schaeffer wrote this caution in 1994 in The Church at the End of the 20th Century, “Beware, therefore, of the movement to give the scientific community the right to rule. They are not neutral in the old concept of scientific objectivity. Objectivity is a myth that will not hold simply because these men have no basis for it. Keep in mind that to these men, morals are only a set of averages. Here, then, is a present form of manipulation which we can expect to get greater as one of the elites takes more power.”
[5] One concern I have is the broad and uncritical acceptance of intersectionality and standpoint epistemology. Intersectionality refers to the concept that “someone who belongs to more than one oppressed or marginalized group…experiences such oppression or marginalization in a particularly intensified way thanks to the ‘intersection’ of those social forces” (Scott David Allen, Why Social Justice is Not Biblical Justice, 66). This idea gives rise to standpoint epistemology, which means “one’s social position relative to systemic power confers additional insight or access to knowledge(s) that allows the oppressed to understand both oppression and the society or systems it operates within better than the privileged are able to so” (James Lindsay, New Discourses, emphasis mine). At root, both concepts are postmodern ideologies that undermine biblical objectivity of truth and knowledge.
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How Redemption Dignifies Diligence
The Lord’s ordinary way is to bless conscientious diligence in a lawful calling with such a measure of success as the person may have whereby to sustain himself and to be helpful unto others.
A recent worldwide study of attitudes to work shows that UK citizens are least likely to say that work is important in their life, and among the least likely to say that work should always come first, even if it means less leisure time. Compared with other nations, the UK is also relatively less likely to agree that work is a duty towards society. While the Bible condemns grasping ambition and earthly-mindedness, it also commends diligence, productivity, and generosity. This is an application of the eighth commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.” In his commentary on Ephesians, James Fergusson looks at how Paul explores the transformation that takes place in every area of life when someone comes to know Christ savingly, including a radically changed attitude to work. In the following updated extract, Fergusson identifies the eighth commandment as informing Paul’s exhortation in Ephesians 4:28, “Let him that stole steal no more, but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.”
Knowing Christ Transforms Everything
The knowledge which the Ephesians had of Christ was inconsistent with a licentious life. “Ye have not so learned Christ” (Eph. 4:20) It is not every sort of learning Christ, or knowledge that may be had of Christ, which excludes profaneness.
We rightly and savingly learn truth, when the knowledge of truth attained by our learning is such as Christ’s knowledge was, i.e., not merely theoretical and speculative, but practical and operative.
Three things are required from, and effectually produced in, the person who learns and knows Christ in this effectual way.
The first is a daily striving to “put off” (or “mortify”) “the old man” (v.22). This doesn’t mean the substance of our soul and body, or even the natural and essential faculties of the soul, but the natural and inbred corruption which has infected and polluted all these, and which we give way to in its “deceitful lusts.” The right order to go about the duties of sanctification is to begin with mortification in the first place, and then proceed to the duties of a new life, for the plants of righteousness do not thrive in an unhumbled, proud, impenitent heart.
The second thing is a serious endeavour to have your mind and understanding more and more renewed, or made new, by getting a new quality of divine and supernatural light implanted in it (v.23). It is not sufficient that we cease to do evil, and labour to mortify our inbred corruption, but we must also learn to do well, and endeavour to have the whole man adorned with the various graces of God’s Spirit, making conscience of all the positive duties of a holy life.
The third thing is the daily task of putting on the new man (v.24), that is, being more and more endued and adorned with new and spiritual qualities, by which not only is our mind renewed, but also our will, affections and actions.
Christians Observe Each of the Ten Commandments
The apostle then presses on them the exercise of some particular virtues. These belong to all Christians of whatsoever rank or station equally, and they are all enjoined in the second table of the law. He exhorts them, first, to lay aside and mortify the sin of lying (v.25), forbidden in the ninth commandment (where someone speaks what they know or conceive to be untruth, with an intention and purpose to deceive), and to “speak the truth, every man with his neighbour,” that is, to speak as they think, and to think of what they speak as it really is, so that our speech would conform both to the thing itself, and to our conceptions of the thing.
He exhorts them, next, to restrain and moderate their anger (v.26–27), for anger is forbidden in the sixth commandment. Anger is a natural affection, planted in our first parents at the first creation, and it was indeed also found in Christ Himself, who was without sin. So anger is not in itself a sin, nor always sinful. Instead, it is in its own nature indifferent, and becomes either good or evil according to the grounds, causes, objects and ends of it.
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