Wade in the Water
Trusting God means acting on the knowledge that he knows what he’s talking about, even when his commands don’t make sense to me. Even before I see God’s provision. Even when provision looks impossible. Even when obedience is costly. Even if God doesn’t provide in the ways I think he should. Trusting God means being willing to get my feet wet, knowing that God’s promises will hold, and that in his own way, God’s hand will provide what is needed for the next step.
In 1998, Eva Cassidy recorded an old spiritual called “Wade in the water”. I was listening to her sing it in my car just recently:
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
God’s gonna trouble the water
The lyrics are simple, but this water runs deep. As you’d expect from a spiritual, the reference is biblical. The rest of the song speaks of the children of Israel on the banks of the Jordan river, ready to cross into the promised land. In Joshua chapter 3, God tells the priests of Israel to carry the ark of the covenant, the symbol of his relationship with his people and presence with them, to the edge of the flooded river and stand in the water. They obeyed, and as soon as their feet got wet, God began to stop the flow of a mighty river and clear a path for his people to walk across on dry land.
Dry land—but the feet of the priests were still wet. They were wet because they had to “wade in the water” before God “troubled the water” for them. They had to obey before they saw the provision. They had to take a very literal step of faith into what was entirely impossible for them, trusting that God would keep his promise to take them across. It would have looked pretty silly for them to stand on the edge of the river if God never parted it. But he did.
The same dynamic plays out over and over again in the life of God’s people: we are often faced with situations where we must choose if we will trust God’s promises of provision, or turn away from where he is leading us in order to blaze our own path, by our own means. We like the sound of God’s promises for his children.
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Winsomeness Redux: Focusing on the Virtues Expected of Christ’s Followers
Given that history, we would be better served to abandon the desire for winsomeness and all attempts to repurpose it and make it our own, and to instead return to Scripture’s ideas and terms regarding the multi-faceted virtue which is to be exhibited by the followers of Christ. President Kruger is right in his aim and practice, but we could wish he finds a better theory and terminology in which to dress it. For the excellencies of the Spirit-filled life do not fit well in the rhetoric of contemporary American culture.
The debate over the desirability of winsomeness continues. In a recent entry no less eminent and praiseworthy a gentleman than President Kruger of Reformed Theological Seminary – Charlotte has come to the defense of winsomeness with a polite but unyielding article asserting that instilling winsomeness is a key part of his institution’s efforts. He maintains that character matters; that it affects how our message is likely to be received; and that the Reformed world is in need of much improvement on this point. Those three points are indisputably true, but it is not clear that they have the close relation to winsomeness that President Kruger maintains.
Central to his argument is his contention that being winsome is simply embodying the fruits of the Spirit in our own lives. Let it be stated very plainly that if to be winsome is to be kind, loving, patient, and all the other fruits of the Spirit, then we are indeed under obligation to be winsome. No believer is permitted to disparage the Spirit’s works or embody the works of the flesh (Rom. 8:13), and if President Kruger’s aim is only to inculcate a Spirit-directed life in his students and audience (comp. Gal. 5:25) it is wholly appropriate, and all Presbyterians ought to wish him Godspeed.
I disagree with his definition, however, and assert that while his ministerial efforts are laudable his scheme of classification is mistaken. The essence of winsomeness does not lie in the sundry fruits of the Spirit or being like Christ. The conception of winsomeness that Kruger and others praise regards winsomeness as something in the person who is deemed winsome. Indeed, Kruger uses winsome as a synonym for virtuous or Spirit-filled.
But winsomeness, like attractiveness, is in the eye of the beholder. Its essence does not lie so much in what one is, but in how he or she is perceived by others. We describe other people as winsome when we regard them as charming, likable, pleasant, polished, and generally enjoyable to listen to or keep company with. Such people tend to be many of the things that Kruger regards as essential, such as kind or peaceable, but their winsomeness does not lie in those things as such, but in how those things lead us to have a positive esteem of them. One can only be deemed likable or charming if his character has charmed others or made him likable to them.
If this be doubted, consider how people talk about others. How often have you heard someone say something like ‘He’s a good guy, nice and easy to get along with, but –‘ followed by some caveat that means that his kindness, peaceableness, gentleness, patience, and goodness notwithstanding, the person in question is not likely to be called winsome. In practice there are many people who are kind, good, pleasant, etc., whom we find only partly likable, at best, and who do not inspire that feeling of fondness and positive impression that leads us to praise them as winsome or to take their position in disputed matters.
Note also the contexts in which winsome appears. I have yet to see someone refer to himself as winsome – which is well, for it would be about the most unwinsome and revolting thing he could do. But I have read Robert Burns use it to praise his wife as a delight (“My Wife’s A Winsome Wee Thing”), and I have read many a book review or profile of a prominent figure whose subject was described as winsome by an admiring author.
The problem with the view of Kruger and others is that they have effectively enshrined winsomeness as the preeminent virtue, the one in which in principle all others are found and from which they flow. What arête was to the ancient Greeks or honor to the antebellum Southerner, so is winsomeness to the contemporary evangelical. Again, Kruger defines it as consisting of a conscious embodiment of the fruits of the Spirit and imitation of Christ.
There is an alternative to winsomeness which I will delineate in a subsequent article. For our purposes here I will mention only three more things. One, the worst people in the world can often be described as winsome. Any time you meet a winsome person you ought to tread carefully, for there is a good chance that person is a deceptive, manipulative fiend with bad intentions, an adulterer, con man, abuser, or some other form of blackguard who is compelled to hide his true nature to accomplish his foul aims (comp. 2 Cor. 11:13-15).
Two, my disagreement with President Kruger et. al., does not concern how we are to behave. We are all agreed that we are to imitate Christ, walk by the Spirit, and embody virtue in all that we are and do. The disagreement is merely over what terms and concepts we should use to describe such a manner of living. If anyone comes away from this article with a poor impression of President Kruger or imagining that we are to be curmudgeonly or uncivil, he has misunderstood me entirely.
Three, winsome is an ancient English word that fell out of use until it was revived by eighteenth century Scottish poets such as the aforementioned Robert Burns (Online Etymology Dictionary). Burns was a fierce critic of the Church of Scotland.[1] Consider the thick irony that we are all running about desperately trying to be winsome, ultimately, because an opponent of our Scottish forebears revived the word. For the whole history of the church people have been talking about the goodness of being merciful, just, loving, virtuous, etc. Only in the last generation or two has the emphasis shifted to being this one thing, winsome, and this has only been possible because a critic of the church re-popularized the term in previous generations.
Given that history, we would be better served to abandon the desire for winsomeness and all attempts to repurpose it and make it our own, and to instead return to Scripture’s ideas and terms regarding the multi-faceted virtue which is to be exhibited by the followers of Christ. President Kruger is right in his aim and practice, but we could wish he finds a better theory and terminology in which to dress it. For the excellencies of the Spirit-filled life do not fit well in the rhetoric of contemporary American culture.
Tom Hervey is a member of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Simpsonville, S.C.
[1] It must be noted that the Church of Scotland of Burns’ day was by most accounts unhealthy, however, and in need of reform.
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Merry Christmas Now and Forever: Irenaeus on the Incarnation of Christ
Irenaeus compared and contrasted the two Adams of the Bible in relation to salvation. The first Adam (Gen 3:6-20) led the human race astray through the original sin, so, “the last Adam” (1 Cor 15:45), the Word-become-flesh came to bring fallen humanity back to God (John 1). Jesus of Nazareth, came in flesh and blood, the living Word, in Mary’s womb in order to redeem a fleshly, fallen race.
Irenaeus (AD 125–202) was the bishop of Lugdunum in Gaul (modern Lyons, France). He was a stalwart opponent of heresy and an influential defender of the Christian faith. Irenaeus studied under Polycarp, who had been a disciple of the Apostle John. John’s gospel begins,
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made” (John 1:1-3).
The Word-become-flesh (John 1:14) was the rock upon which Irenaeus built his theology. The incarnation served as his Christ-centered theological starting point for understanding all things. Christ was the beginning and end all aspects of his theological understanding; creation, fall, redemption, and new creation. Therefore, Irenaeus rejected any and all attempts to pit creation against redemption. For Irenaeus, history is integral to the incarnation. Christ is taking on our entire story and in the life of Christ, we see all of salvation history recapitulated.
Thus, Irenaeus compared and contrasted the two Adams of the Bible in relation to salvation. The first Adam (Gen 3:6-20) led the human race astray through the original sin, so, “the last Adam” (1 Cor 15:45), the Word-become-flesh came to bring fallen humanity back to God (John 1). Jesus of Nazareth, came in flesh and blood, the living Word, in Mary’s womb in order to redeem a fleshly, fallen race. Irenaeus writes,
For I have shown that the Son of God did not then begin to exist, being with the Father from the beginning; but when He became incarnate, and was made man, He commenced afresh the long line of human beings, and furnished us, in a brief, comprehensive manner, with salvation; so that what we had lost in Adam—namely, to be according to the image and likeness of God—that we might recover in Christ Jesus.1
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The Power of Song and Testimony in Church Tradition
Our churches need to sing songs of the good news of our great redemption in Christ and the hope that we have because of that truth. However, we also need to sing songs of sojourning in our gatherings to train believers how to walk as pilgrims through this barren land with an enduring faith in God.
The seeds of my faith were sown in a little red brick church building found on a sharp bend of an oil-topped road in East Texas. To the eye that cares more about impressive appearances than anything else, that place is just another little church building, on another country road, in another small town, in the middle of nowhere. If you are looking for a place that depends on impressive, multi-syllabic theological terms, proper light temperatures, and musical builds into thunderous bridges attempting to express deep, abiding faith, then you took a wrong turn somewhere. By these superficial characteristics, it would seem like that red brick church building couldn’t possibly be the soil for spiritual growth.
But it was there–in that little church building—that I heard the gospel of Jesus proclaimed every week. It was there that I was taught to love the Word of God, under the instruction of my favorite Sunday School teacher—my mother. It was there that I heard my dad and other deacons pray and sing “with their chest” as they led us in our devotional period to open our services, showing me that men could lead with deep resolve and display deep emotion in worship. It was there that I learned the value of having older saints around who could testify to the goodness of God. It was there that doctrines of the sovereignty and providence of God—words that I later learned and had to define in seminary—were living, experienced realities. It was there that I learned that God is not a concept to be examined but a person to be worshipped, adored, delighted in, and trusted.
It was in that little red brick church that I learned the power of songs of sojourning and shared testimony. These were a means of reminding of the goodness of God, inviting others to share in our joy and resolute faith in that goodness, and strengthening the faith of those who were having a hard time holding on to faith because of the persistent and unrelenting presence of suffering. I later learned through studying the Scriptures that these rhythms and practices of song and testimony were part of the spiritual diet of God’s people throughout the generations. These rhythms and practices have been critical for my own growth and steadfastness in the faith.
Songs of Sojourning
I recently spent time with a friend who, like me, grew up in a historic black church in the south. As we reminisced about what it was like growing up in that environment and what got instilled in us there, I realized that while we grew up a little over 1,000 miles away from each other, we shared a spiritual hymn book, a heritage passed to us from the generation before us. We both had our seasons of drifting and hardship in young adulthood, and when things became unbearably difficult, our souls turned to the same collection of songs to stabilize and strengthen our faith.
Those songs were sojourning songs. By sojourning songs, I mean songs that tell the narrative of how God meets with, walks with, and sustains his people through the various hardships of life. These songs are part testimony and part prayer, training our hearts to look for and trust God in uncertainty, songs that instill an expectant longing for the fulfillment of all of his promises to us.
Most Sunday mornings, the deacons would come out to open the service with a devotional period where they would pray for the gathering, as we responded by singing lined hymns together in the call-and-response style that is rooted in the Black church. I loved (and still do) when those first lines rang out,
Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,Pilgrim through this barren land
That would be followed by the congregation’s response as we recounted the story of the exodus and asked God to be with us on our own sojourn through this “barren land” on our way to the promised land of the new Jerusalem. My favorite line in the hymn, the one that resonated with me most and brought tears to my eyes as I belt it out to this day, is:
Strong Deliverer, Strong DelivererBe thou still my strength and shield.
I think it was in those lines that I learned that part of God’s unchanging character was that of a strong deliverer. The request to “be thou still,” was a request for God to show up again to protect and deliver me when things got rough. It is a reminder to my doubting heart and an act of defiance against the surrounding circumstances to call on and expect God to be that for me again. It was another seed of faith sown into the soil of my soul.
On most of the Sundays of my childhood, that deacon-led devotional period was followed by the choir singing Albert A. Goodson’s “We’ve Come This Far By Faith.”
We’ve come this far by faith,Leaning on the Lord.Trusting in his holy word.He’s never failed us yet.Oh, oh-, oh- can’t turn around,We’ve come this far by faith.
There is a point in everyone’s journey of faith where the road gets rough, and you can’t see how the Lord is going to get you through. There is an internal alarm that goes off in your soul, saying, “Abandon ship! The journey is too hard this way. Surely there has to be a better way. Surely you can find a self-salvation strategy to get you through.” But I was reminded yet again that the only way that we have even gotten this far is through faith—leaning on the Lord and trusting in his holy Word. He has never failed us, and because he is unchanging, always faithful, and always working all things together for our good, we can trust him with our next step and all the way home.
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