http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15469289/was-the-apostle-paul-anti-semitic
You Might also like
-
Not All Obedience Is Christian
Christian obedience is a special kind of obedience. It involves more than mere external behavior, more even than proper motivation. Christian obedience involves the miraculous and mysterious union of divine action and human action. The apostle Paul lays out this mystery in Philippians 2:
My beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12–13)
As we consider this mystery, it’s crucial that we get our prepositions right. Christians don’t work for their salvation. Salvation is by grace through faith. It’s not of our own doing; “it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8–9). Elsewhere in Philippians, Paul says that he’s seeking to gain Christ, to be found in him, not having a righteousness of his own that comes from the law, but the righteousness from God that depends on faith (Philippians 3:8–9). So Christians don’t work for our own salvation. We receive salvation as a gift.
But we do work out our own salvation, and we do so because God is at work within us to will and to work for his good pleasure. We are working out what God is working in. And he is working at the level of our will — our desires, our affections, our choices. Fundamental to salvation is heart change, the transformation of our wills by God so that we will and work for his good pleasure.
Working from Within
The same mystery and miracle of Christian obedience is described at the end of the book of Hebrews:
Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Hebrews 13:20–21)
“We don’t work for salvation. We work out salvation because God works in us to will and work for his good pleasure.”
How does the God of peace equip us to do his will? By working in us what is pleasing in his sight. The same elements are present here and in Philippians: God’s work in us, leading to our working out (that is, doing his will), for his good pleasure and glory. Just like in Philippians, he works in us so that we do his will in a way that pleases him.
Therefore, Christian obedience is special because it knows that prepositions matter. We don’t work for salvation. We work out salvation because God works in us to will and work for his good pleasure.
Christian Double Vision
Christian obedience is also special in another way. God’s work in us produces a special kind of mindset. Think of this in terms of double vision. Consider Philippians 2:1–5, noting the use of the word mind:
If there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.
Paul’s joy will be complete if the Philippians have the same mindset, the same love, the same soul, the same single-mindedness. And in particular, he highlights what they’re keeping an eye on. They look not to their own interests, but to the interests of others. They don’t act from selfish ambition or pride or vainglory, but they count other people more significant than themselves. They place their happiness in the good of other people. That’s the first part of the double vision: looking to the interests of others.
The second part appears in Philippians 2:12: we look for the approval of God. Paul says, “As you have always obeyed . . . not only as in my presence but much more in my absence . . .” The Philippians were not obeying in order to impress Paul; they were obeying in order to please God.
Whose Approval?
In drawing attention to their constant obedience, Paul is actually highlighting a perennial temptation for obedient people. Whose approval do you have your eye on? If it’s fundamentally a human being, then you will obey only as long as they have their eyes on you. You will obey in their presence, but not in their absence. And obedience that appears only in the presence of certain people is not truly Christian obedience. See how Paul echoes this theme elsewhere:
Bondservants, obey in everything those who are your earthly masters, not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ. (Colossians 3:22–24; see also Ephesians 6:5–8)
Of course, it’s not wrong to desire to please the right people with our obedience. We should want to please our boss by doing our job well. Kids should want to please their parents with their obedience. The issue comes when that’s the only reason we obey. If we obey only when our parents are around, or when the pastor is around, or when our spouse is around, or when the boss is around, or when our Christian friends are around, then our obedience is mere people-pleasing eye-service. It does not please God because it’s not done for his sake.
Obedience from the Inside Out
The prepositions and the double vision are connected. Christian obedience is an obedience from the inside out, not from the outside in. It begins with God’s work in the heart and then is worked out in terms of the double vision — looking to the interests of others while looking for the approval of God. I regularly tell my sons that what I want and expect from them is an obedience from the inside out. I don’t want to follow them around to make sure that they follow through. That’s obedience from the outside in. The external pressure of parental eyes drives the obedience (often to the exasperation of both parent and child).
“Christian obedience is an obedience from the inside out, not from the outside in.”
What parents want is obedience from the heart, from the inside out. We want to be able to say, like Paul, “You always obey, not only in my presence but much more in my absence.” We don’t just want our children to meet the standard with their actions; we want them to love the standard from the heart. We want God to work in our kids to will and to work for his good pleasure. That’s an obedience that shines like the stars, that makes parents proud and God happy.
And of course, this special kind of Christian obedience isn’t just for kids, but for all Christians. Christian obedience has a double vision — we look to the interests of others, and we look for the approval of God. We don’t put ourselves first. We don’t turn our desires into demands. We seek the good of other people. We aim to bless them and to bring them joy. And we do so because we’re always in God’s presence, animated by his Spirit, and we want to please him by working out what he is working in.
-
Was God Pleased with the One He Cursed? Ephesians 5:1–2, Part 3
John Piper is founder and teacher of desiringGod.org and chancellor of Bethlehem College & Seminary. For 33 years, he served as pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis, Minnesota. He is author of more than 50 books, including Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist and most recently Providence.
-
Start Small, Step Up, and Fail Well: How to Pursue Pastoral Ministry
The road to the pastorate is filled with men who had hoped to arrive a long time ago. Many years have passed since they first felt the seed of a desire to shepherd Christ’s church. But for any number of reasons — life circumstances, personal immaturity, the need for training — no church has called them as shepherd. Not yet.
I think of one friend whose aspiration has quietly burned for over a decade. I think of another man, barely out of his teens, who recently started pursuing the pastorate and likely has years ahead of him. I think of my former self, traveling that road through my entire twenties. Such men may feel ambitions as big as Paul’s — but then remember, with a sigh, that they are not even a Timothy yet.
What can a man do on that road, especially when he can’t see the end of it? Well, quite a lot. Bobby Jamieson offers a couple of dozen ideas in his helpful book The Path to Being a Pastor. My colleague Marshall Segal boils those down to seven worthy ambitions. But lately my mind has been focused on a passage from Paul to Timothy. Timothy was already a pastor at the time of Paul’s writing, but he was a young pastor, not far removed from the road of aspiring men. And Paul’s counsel applies wonderfully to those preparing to join him.
“Do we enjoy Jesus before we preach him, and preach him because we enjoy him?”
We might capture the heart of Paul’s burden in 1 Timothy 4:6–16 with the words of verse 15: “Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress.” Let them see your progress, Timothy. Don’t grow discouraged. Don’t remain stuck. Instead, by God’s grace, gain ground. Hone your character. Develop your competency. Become more godly, more fruitful, more zealous, more skilled. Make progress — the kind of progress that others can see.
To that end, consider a two-part plan: Train privately. Practice publicly.
Train Privately
Most of Paul’s commands in 1 Timothy 4:6–16 focus on Timothy’s public ministry. “Command and teach” (verse 11); “set the believers an example” (verse 12); “devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching” (verse 13); and so on. At the same time, Paul knew just how easily public ministry could outpace private piety. He knew how tempting it could be to “keep a close watch on . . . the teaching” without keeping a close watch “on yourself” (verse 16).
It is frightfully possible to preach in public what you disobey in private. It is sadly common for men, even pastors-in-training, to lose delight in God’s word, and neglect the prayer closet. So, behind, before, and alongside Timothy’s public ministry, Paul says, “Train yourself for godliness” (verse 7). Explain publicly what you have experienced privately. Let all your teaching be plucked from the orchard of your soul. Remember that all God-pleasing progress in public flows from God-centered progress in private.
Enjoy His Words
“Train yourself for godliness”: the command takes us into an athletic spirituality, a pursuit of Christ that doesn’t mind the uphill climb, that relishes some sweat, that is willing to beat disobedient feelings into submission. Give yourself, Timothy, to the long, gradual, difficult, joyful process of becoming more like Jesus — or what some Puritans called “the great business of godliness” (The Genius of Puritanism, 12).
Such training may take many forms, but Paul leaves no doubt about the central content of Timothy’s regimen: he would progress in godliness by “being trained in the words of the faith” (1 Timothy 4:6). Reject “deceitful spirits and teachings of demons” (verse 1); sidestep “irreverent, silly myths” (verse 7). Instead, give yourself to God’s word.
If there is a secret to public progress, surely it lies in private soul-dealings with the God who speaks. I for one have felt chastened lately by Andrew Bonar’s description of the young Robert Murray M’Cheyne, who would often ride outside town “to enjoy an hour’s perfect solitude; for he felt meditation and prayer to be the very sinews of his work” (Memoir and Remains of Robert Murray M’Cheyne, 56). Meditation and prayer are the sinews of ministry. Without them, we may have the muscle of charisma and the bones of orthodoxy, but the body hangs loose and weak; we stagger rather than run.
In one way or another, the depth of our private dealings with God will become evident in public. Our faces will shine like Moses’s — or they won’t. Our spontaneous speech and conduct will “set . . . an example” (verse 12) — or it won’t. We will hand others the ripe fruit of our own meditations — or we will deal in plastic apples and pears.
As aspiring leaders, we know God’s word forms the soul and substance of our public ministry. But over time, has our private life come to betray that conviction? Do we still read God’s word with anything like athletic obsession? Do we enjoy Jesus before we preach him, and preach him because we enjoy him? Do we treat meditation and prayer as the indispensable sinews of ministry?
Examine Your Soul
As Timothy devotes himself to “the words of the faith,” Paul calls him to turn his attention inward as well. “Keep a close watch on yourself,” he writes (1 Timothy 4:16). Timothy was an overseer of souls, but the first soul he needed to oversee was his own.
“The gifts of God are not only given, but cultivated; not only bestowed, but honed.”
Paul had spoken such words to pastors before. “Pay careful attention to yourselves,” he told the elders in Ephesus (Acts 20:28). And he had good reason to warn: “From among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things” (Acts 20:30). Pastor or not, if a man does not keep a close watch on himself, he will lose himself. He will not only fail to progress; he will regress, sometimes beyond hope. And Timothy was no exception.
So, Paul says, keep a close watch. Regularly tour the city of your heart to see if any enemies have breached the gate and now threaten the throne. Stand sentinel in your soul; know the weak spots on the walls, and study the enemies you are likely to face. Pray and then patiently review in God’s presence your speech, conduct, love, faith, purity (1 Timothy 4:12). As you read God’s word, ask him to search you and save you, to reveal you and rescue you (Psalm 139:23–24). “Lord, discipline me, correct me, expose me, confront me — and whatever it takes, keep me from destroying myself.”
True, we do not make much progress in godliness by looking inward. But we may notice the enemies that keep us from progress — enemies that, unmortified, would ruin all our progress up till now.
Practice Publicly
If private progress relates mostly to our character, public progress relates mostly to our competence. And in our passage, Paul cares about Timothy’s competence a lot. When he writes, “Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress” (1 Timothy 4:15), “these things” refers mainly to “the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching” (verse 13). Timothy was already “able to teach” (1 Timothy 3:2), but Paul wanted him to become more able, to increasingly look like “a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15).
Paul recognized in Timothy a pastoral gift (1 Timothy 4:14). But Timothy’s gift was not a static endowment: he could “neglect the gift” he had, or he could “practice” and improve it (verses 14–15). For the gifts of God are not only given, but cultivated; not only bestowed, but honed. And here men like us find hope. However gifted we may feel (or not), we are not at the mercy of our present attainments. We can handle God’s word with more care. We can apply it with more power. We can develop a greater readiness “in season and out of season” (2 Timothy 4:2). That is, as long as we practice.
Embrace Unspectacular Opportunities
Few men receive a ready-made gift of teaching, a gift with no assembly required. God’s kingdom has its occasional Spurgeons, of course, who preached better as a teenager than I ever will as an adult. But most of us become proficient only through repeated practice over years, and then most of us progress further only through more practice still. And if we’re going to practice as much as we ought — as much as Paul’s “immerse yourself” suggests (1 Timothy 4:15) — then we likely will need to embrace opportunities that seem pretty unspectacular.
We might, for example, lead a group of guys in middle-school ministry. We might pour more thought into family devotions. We might find a lonely, suffering saint, listen to his heart woes, and practice the complex art of pastoral counseling. We might gather a few men committed to exhorting and encouraging each other. We might spend time with the sermon passage before we hear it preached, developing our own ideas and applications, drafting our own outline. We might snatch up every realistic opportunity to open the Bible and say something about it.
Perhaps we feel tempted to despise these small, unspectacular opportunities. But small, unspectacular opportunities form, for most of us, the indispensable path toward progress. There is no progress without practice — and practice sometimes feels utterly ordinary.
Fail Well
Those who practice enough, of course, eventually discover an uncomfortable truth: with practice comes not only progress, but failure. Open your mouth often enough, and you’ll say something foolish. Exhort others enough, and you’ll damage a bruised reed. Counsel enough, and you’ll speak too soon or too late. Preach enough, and you’ll leave the pulpit disheartened.
In the aftermath of such moments, we may feel like practicing a little less; rather than immersing ourselves in ministry or devoting ourselves to teaching (1 Timothy 4:13, 15), we may feel like retreating to a safer place. We may want to dig a hole and bury our talents in the dirt of our failures.
Yet precisely in such moments, we need to hear Paul’s word to Timothy in verse 14: “Do not neglect the gift you have.” Yes, your effort ended in embarrassment, but do not neglect the gift you have. Yes, taking another public risk feels daunting, but do not neglect the gift you have. Yes, to fail again like that would feel shameful, but do not neglect the gift you have. In some cases, of course, repeated failure may suggest that we don’t actually have the gift we thought we did. In so many cases, however, the failure was just part of the practice.
So, hold your failures in open hands, and learn all you can from them. Remember “the words of the faith” that have been your private strength, your secret delight. Take courage that if “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15), he can certainly restore and use failures. And then get back in the pulpit, back before the small group, back on the streets, back wherever your ministry lies, and use the gift that God has given you.
And in time, all will see your progress.