Therefore My Heart Is Glad

As surely as we know that we will die, by faith in Christ we know that we will rise again in glory. Christ is “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” (1 Corinthians 15:19-21) Just as was the case with Christ and his body, our bodies will be restored, never to die again. “The last enemy that will be destroyed is death.” (1 Corinthians 15:26) We will stand before God on the Last Day, made perfect in body and in soul, and justified by the merits of the Son through whom we gained all of these blessings.
December can be a hard month. It does not lack for jolly opportunities. People hang cheerful lights to brighten the early nights. Families gather together. We are surrounded by reminders of Christ’s birth and the blessing that he brings. We might sing special songs in church. We listen to Handel’s Messiah.
But as the years pass, those happy occasions can also bring memories of loss. I know this personally, having lost my dad in December several years ago.
My favorite part of Messiah is Part Three. After the triumphant chorus of Hallelujahs at the end of Part Two, the music slows and we hear:
“I know that my Redeemer liveth,
and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.
And though worms destroy this body,
yet in my flesh shall I see God.
For now is Christ risen from the dead,
the first-fruits of them that sleep.”
Christ’s person and work are the root of all Christian hopes. This is the mystery of the Incarnation. The eternal Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, was born as the son of Mary. He shares our entire nature, body and soul, sin alone excepted. The eternal, fully divine Son now has a human mind, a human will, and a human’s experience of time. As we read in Hebrews, “in all things He had to be made like His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” (Hebrews 2:17 NKJV) How this all works together has not been fully revealed to us.
What has been revealed to us is that Jesus shared in every part of human life. He “increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.” (Luke 2:52) Our great High Priest learned obedience as a man. (Hebrews 5:8) Indeed, it is only as a man that Christ possesses a will distinct from the Father’s. We know he celebrated at one wedding at least, even providing the wine. We also know that he wept at a funeral for a friend. Jesus labored. He traveled across the land during his ministry. He rejoiced when he saw faith, and he was angry when he saw hardness of heart. He taught, he debated, he admonished, and he prayed. He died at the hands of sinners, but death could not keep him. He rose from the dead in triumph, the shame of cross and grave transformed
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Worship the Spirit
The Holy Spirit inspired the sufficient revelation concerning the elements of gathered worship, and so we should expect that he would naturally work through those elements—reading the Word, preaching the Word, praying the Word, singing the Word, and visualizing the Word through baptism and the Lord’s Supper. This is why Christians have traditionally called these prescribed elements the “ordinary means of grace”—these are the primary means Christians should expect the Holy Spirit to ordinarily work his grace into our lives.
Lots of confusion reigns today regarding how we ought to expect the Holy Spirit to work, but it does not have to be this way. Careful reading of Scripture gives us a robust picture of what should be our expectation for how the Holy Spirit works today.
The Spirit Brings Order
First, the Holy Spirit’s purpose in all he does is to bring order, to both individual Christians and to the Body as a whole. The descriptions in Scripture of the Holy Spirit’s activity overwhelmingly attest to this purpose. The Spirit brought order to the material God created at the beginning of time, and he brings order to time itself in unfolding God’s plan in history. He worked to bring peace and blessing to Israel as he dwelt among them in the Old Testament temple, and he does the same as he dwells within the New Testament temple. This was his purpose in special empowerment given to Israel’s kings and prophets and his purpose in the foundational gifts he gave to the apostles and prophets during the formation of the church.
And that purpose remains the same today. The Spirit brings order to the disordered minds and hearts of his elect when he convicts them of their sin and gives them new life, when he unites them into the triune communion and particularly to Christ himself in his Body. He continues to order the lives of his people in empowering them to submit to his Word and be sanctified by it, conforming them to the image of Christ and producing fruit consistent with the harmony and beauty of God’s character. And he builds up the unity of Christ’s body through providentially gifting his people with abilities to use in service of God and one another in the church, particularly in corporate worship, where he forms his people through filling them with his Word read, preached, prayed, and sung.
The Spirit Works Through His Word
Second, one of the most influential and long-lasting works of the Holy Spirit to bring order to his people was the inspiration of his Word; this is why the most frequently described act of the Holy Spirit in Scripture is the giving of revelation, and why his work of “filling” a believer (Eph 5:19) is paralleled in Paul’s writings with the Word of Christ “richly dwelling” within a Christian (Col 3:16). Thus, believers should expect that the Holy Spirit will work today primarily through his Word, and he will never act contrary to his Word.
For this reason, we must never conceive of any work of the Spirit today apart from his Word. If we expect the Spirit to do something apart from Scripture, we will inevitably subordinate Scripture itself to a subjective experience. We may say we believe Scripture to be sufficient, but ultimately we will ignore the objective Word, always seeking for subjective experiences, feelings, “inner voices,” or impressions that we assume to be the Spirit’s illuminating work. Likewise, we will also find ourselves frustrated when we don’t experience some sort of feeling that we assume to be the Spirit’s work. We will wonder why he isn’t “speaking” to us.
Rather, we must recognize that he has already spoken to us through his sufficient Word—we ought not expect any further revelation. We must simply pray that he gives us wisdom to appropriate his Word and then actively apply and submit ourselves to what he has already spoken.
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A Review: To Count Our Days: A History of Columbia Theological Seminary.
What happens when the culture moves in a less theocentric direction? The middle also moves with it. While William Childs Robinson may have been pugnacious in his defense of traditional Calvinism, he was right about the effects of loosening confessional subscription on the institution and the church. The story of Columbia Theological Seminary is mixed. There were many days of greatness followed by mediocrity. There were movements to improve the institution by moving in a more elite direction, but there was a loss of confessional stability.
Erskine Clarke, To Count Our Days: A History of Columbia Theological Seminary. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2019. Pp. 369.
Erskine Clarke, a former professor of American Religion at Columbia Theological Seminary, has written a readable and thought-provoking history of one of the preeminent seminaries of the Southern Presbyterian Church. In its 369 pages, he gives the reader a critical view of the seminary. What separates it from David Calhoun’s volume on Columbia, Our Southern Zion, is the connections with southern culture and his critical analysis of some of the theologians connected to the institution—especially over the issues of race. Also, unlike Calhoun’s volume, he goes into the history of the seminary when it moved to Atlanta. For Clarke, Columbia is a seminary that struggled financially and intellectually with its past. He traces the changes to the seminary from strict Calvinism to a seminary that is now loosely associated with the Presbyterian Church and dominated by a theology of diversity.
Clarke begins his history with the founding of the seminary in Columbia, South Carolina. While there are other histories of the institution that can give the names, dates, and synodical actions that brought the seminary into existence, Clarke goes beyond that by bringing out the influence of the plantation system and slavery in Columbia’s founding.
Ainsley-Hall, the centerpiece of the seminary, was a southern mansion whose physical characteristics pointed to an elitist institution that trained the gentlemen theologians of the south. But the institution and the building were “to help hide the harsh realities of slavery and to help legitimize the power and wealth of slave owners and the social order that kept them powerful” (p. 7). Clarke is somewhat justified in his opinion because the seminary was intertwined with the plantation system and its slaves. The seminary in its early years may have had a brilliant faculty with John Henley Thornwell, Benjamin Morgan Palmer, and John Adger, but slavery was also there. While some Columbia professors may have disliked slavery as an institution, they were still paternalistic towards African Americans. The approach of the Columbia theologians as described by Clarke, was a middle way between abolition and radical proslavery opinions which was dehumanizing. But the middle way would be abandoned during the Civil War for an extreme position.
With the advent of the Civil War and reconstruction, the seminary suffered through poverty and destruction with the dismantling of the plantation system. As a way to survive the war intellectually, John Girardeau and other faculty created a milieu in which they maintained southern culture and used language to preserve the “lost cause.” Clarke sees this era as one of not only economic but also intellectual impoverishment. He notes that John Girardeau’s theology represented a “theological shift.” “Girardeau’s scholasticism represented a narrowing of the spirit that animated the seminary and that he shaped the tone of what was taught and learned on the seminary campus” (p. 111). He contrasts Girardeau to Adger, who followed the sacramental mystery of Calvin.
Another event was the James Woodrow affair which was a retreat from openness to science. Woodrow was called to the Perkins Professorship of Natural Science in Connection with Revelation which was established in 1859. The scientifically trained Woodrow was to show that there were no conflicts between biblical revelation and science. Woodrow was a proponent of evolution and “insisted science was neither religious nor irreligious…” (p. 119). But for R. L. Dabney and other southern theologians, the ramifications were an assault of modernism. Clarke believes that the real issue was that Woodrow called into question not only the received orthodoxy, but also “Their self-understanding as white Southern Presbyterian” (p. 123). It was a further narrowing of the intellect.
The fortunes of the seminary changed in the twentieth century with the re-emergence of the south’s economy. The seminary moved from Columbia to Atlanta in 1927 and with significant changes. The architecture changed from a southern mansion in Columbia which was its main building to architecture that was reminiscent of Cambridge and Oxford. The physical plant resembled a college which gave the tincture of elite academics. Under the long serving president McDowell Richards, there was a move towards academic professionalization and a broader perspective as new faculty was hired. Eventually, Columbia turned to Neo-Orthodoxy, feminism, and diversity. The seminary that once saw itself in service to the Southern Presbyterian Church loosened its ties to Presbyterianism and in 2012 its revised mission statement said that “Columbia Theological Seminary exists to educate and nurture the faithful, imaginative, and effective leaders for the sake of the Church and the world” (pg. 285). Clarke sees Columbia now as “post-denominational” (p. 285).
Conservatives during this period are not portrayed positively. William Childs Robinson is portrayed as arrogant and overly zealous in his defense of traditional doctrine. George Manford Gutzke comes off as an academic lightweight. As the 1960s approached with the problems of segregation, conservative students were seen as intolerant when it came to the issue of race and theological liberalism. Some of those students included the founders of the P.C.A., such as Morton Smith and Kennedy Smartt. In the epilogue to his volume, Clark asks the question whether Columbia is trying to rid itself of its tradition which was heavily influenced by antebellum southern culture only to be replaced by a cosmopolitan culture (pp. 291-292).
This book should encourage readers to ponder Erskine Clarke’s work due to his investigation of the influence of culture on seminary education. As one reads about the impact of slavery and racism, one cannot help but mourn. And while one may focus on the glories of the southern presbyterian tradition, one may want to also groan over its shortcoming.
Yet, while conservatives have their own sins to bear, progressives also have much to ponder. The loss of confessional fidelity has led the seminary away from it primary mission of not just equipping ministers for the Presbyterian church, but also its own unique Christian witness. Besides vocational training, Columbia’s modern ethos makes it more like a modern university. One set of cultural values has been exchanged for another.
There are issues that some readers will take issue with this volume. Clarke comes close to stating that the adoption of Old School Calvinism contributed to the establishment of slavery. He writes that the “theological traditions taught at Columbia offered students and their parishioners’ explanations of the incongruent and contradictory character of life in a slave society and provided ethical standards for living in such a world” (p. 25). To some extent this may be true, but it also needs to be kept in mind that there have been a variety of responses to slavey amongst the proponents of Old School Theology even during the Civil War period.
While this volume gives some idea of the changes that occurred theologically at Columbia, it makes the reader ponder how the seminary wandered so far from its past. Perhaps part of the reason is that Columbia, according to the author, tried to forge a “middle way” between extremes. During the Civil War, they didn’t follow that mindset. With the recovery of the south after the war, that genteel mindset may be a significant reason for the change. What happens when the culture moves in a less theocentric direction? The middle also moves with it. While William Childs Robinson may have been pugnacious in his defense of traditional Calvinism, he was right about the effects of loosening confessional subscription on the institution and the church.
The story of Columbia Theological Seminary is mixed. There were many days of greatness followed by mediocrity. There were movements to improve the institution by moving in a more elite direction, but there was a loss of confessional stability.
Dr. Jerry Robbins is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and is Pastor of Warrington PCA in Pensacola, Fla.
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The Deadly Peril of Being the Double-Minded Man
The perpetual state of double-mindedness is at odds with the Christian faith. These are two different realms, so to speak, that never intersect. In short, double-mindedness is sin, and sin that needs to be put to death quickly, lest the genuineness of our faith is tested and found altogether absent. It is here that the intersect of faith and works comes into play. It is not that our works save us—but that a genuine faith will produce such works that prove that we are genuinely in Christ.
It is interesting, to say the least, that the term for “double-minded” only appears twice in Scripture, and both within the letter of James. The first occurrence deals with those who are subjected to various trials (see James 1:2-8). The point of James in this section is to encourage the faint-hearted in recognizing the purpose of such trials. Trials are akin to the testing of the genuineness of one’s faith (v.2), but what such trials produce is endurance—that quality every true Christian must have to reach the finish line and inherit the glories to come. Endurance itself produces a Christian who is “…perfect and complete, lacking in nothing,” indicating that the result is a mature Christian who comports themselves under trials in such a way that they actually grow in their faith, rather than move backwards.
It is in light of these trials that James then makes the statement in vv. 5-8, “But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.” Thus, if one is lacking the wisdom to navigate through trials, he is to simply ask the Lord with a heart of submission and faith. The doubter, as James calls him, will receive no wisdom, but will remain as one who is continually at odds within himself.
The extent of this double-mindedness though is not in part, but in full. Note that James says he will be unstable in all his ways. In much the same way then, the portrait of the double-minded man that James gives us is a rather bleak one. The Greek term he uses to speak of this man’s instability is ἀκατάστατος, which speaks of a never-ending state of restlessness and turmoil. He is, in other words, the epitome of what it means to be confused in all his faculties.
In intent, motive, thought, desire, speech, and deed, and in both his character and feelings—he is always hovering between two worlds. The state of his soul is never at peace, and he never truly learns to trust in God and His promises. Like the Israelites of old who straddled the fence between worship of Baal and Yahweh, he continually wavers between two opinions. He is quite literally unable to make up his mind between what is good and true, and what is evil and false. In short, his doubts render his faith nearly useless in the midst of his trials.
James is quite clear in what he is stating here: the man who is unstable in all of his ways will not come to find the wisdom which comes from above, which is “…first pure, then peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without hypocrisy” (Ja. 3:8). His instability becomes a detriment to his maturity in the faith, yet ultimately, produces one who will fail under the tutelage of trials. In a very real sense, the implicit warning being given is that the double-minded man may just turn out to be the man who will not endure to the end.
This is particularly why James picks back up on this reality in v. 12 by saying, “Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.” It should be relatively clear to the reader to understand that if one is double-minded and unstable in all his ways, and he perpetually remains in such a state, there is cause for real concern over the state of his soul. If trials produce endurance, and endurance produces a mature Christian who perseveres to the end—one who lacks such qualities may indeed prove to be of the seed which falls on rocky ground who falls away when trouble and persecution comes, or the seed which becomes choked out by the thorns of the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth (Matt. 13:20-21).Related Posts: