Window on Wisdom
Wisdom that is consistent with genuine faith comes from God, looks at life from the perspective of God, lives life God’s way and serves God’s ends. Wisdom involves a Godward life. Like the flower that bends toward the light of the sun, so wisdom causes us to incline our faces to our God.
“Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom.” (James 3:13, ESV)
I live about 20 minutes from Longwood Gardens, a sprawling botanical garden that covers over a thousand acres. Between the Terrace Restaurant and the Conservatory, there’s a lot of construction going on to improve and expand visitor experience. You can hear the roar of the heavy equipment moving the earth out of the way in service to the construction plans. They’ve got a big wall set up around the area to keep the public out and to allow the equipment its space to maneuver. In that wall, they have placed windows so that people can look in and see all that’s going on, and see the project as it takes shape.
That’s what James does in this text. He says our hearts are loud with the sound of activity. The construction crew of wisdom is at work, busy with the building project of our lives. James calls us over to the window to peer in. And what he calls our attention to is not just all the fascination of the heavy equipment rumbling around. He calls our attention to the manufacturer of the machinery, and tells us to take a careful look.
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The Way is Shut: Evangelical Compromise and the Illusion of Virtual Church
The notion that the church can manage just fine online on any kind of ongoing basis is a fatal error. It is an unscriptural theology of creation and incarnation that believes the body of Christ can exist and function equally well in an abstract digital world, reducing the Lord’s Table to relative unimportance, and the preached Word to a ‘talk’ just as effectively delivered digitally via pre-recorded video or live feed. Such an idea is a modern form of Docetism, the heretical belief that Christ merely took on the appearance of humanity, and that his human form was an illusion.
The Allure of Syncretism
Like many historical crises, the present societal response to the threat of a new virus is highlighting the condition of the Christian church and exposing long papered-over fissures in evangelicalism in terms of the nature and priorities of the Christian faith and the foundations of our public theology.
In Canada, the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada (EFC) responded to the mass government lockdown in reaction to the virus by signing an interfaith statement of hope, not only with Islamic, Hindu, Sikh, and Buddhist leaders, but with heretical cults, urging Canadians to hopefulness because the generic, nebulous concept of religious faith “assures us of the caring embrace of the Creator, a sacred relationship sustained by prayer.” This ‘creator’ is an unknown God in the document, an idol like the one Paul confronted in Acts 17:22-34.
Canadians are urged in this multifaith manifesto to recognize that “Religion and spirituality can indeed contribute to building people up, to providing a sense of meaning, inner strength, new horizons and openness of hearts.” In view of this, the statement goes on, “As religious leaders, we wish to emphasize, especially in times like these, the power and importance of prayer.” Since Hindus and Buddhists neither recognize nor pray to an infinite-personal God, Muslims worship an unknown, non-relational being that is not triune, and Mormons deny the divinity of Christ, exactly what kind of shared meaning and inner strength can be gained from this polytheism is unclear. Before what or whom, exactly, are Canadians being urged to supplicate in prayer?
These kinds of spiritually bankrupt gestures are actually informed by pagan spirituality. They do nothing to witness to the salvation and Lordship of Christ, the hope of the gospel, the power of prayer to the living God or the cause of the religious freedom of any community. What they do accomplish is to obscure the clarity of Christian witness, the defense of the faith and true love of neighbor. Where in this statement is the God Paul preached at Mars Hill, and the Man he has appointed as judge of all the earth by raising Him from the dead? The Christian God vanishes into the empty vocabulary of pantheistic spirituality.
As far as the lockdown of the churches is concerned, the EFC joins other religions in calling for an unquestioning compliance with government policy in which they promise to be a model: “We urge all people in Canada to listen and follow attentively the directions of our public health officials and government leaders. We, as religious leaders, pledge to lead by example.” There is no call for serious civic engagement, keeping elected and non-elected officials accountable, nor a commitment to reopen churches as soon as possible; neither are any concerns raised over religious and civil liberties. It is a document with which any dictatorial regime would have been most happy.
Yet the EFC is clearly not representative of large swathes of scripturally faithful evangelical churches in Canada. Despite a widespread apathy in regard to culture, loss of distinctly Christian vision and naive statism among Christians – as seen in Canadian blogger Tim Challies’ recent article thanking God for government[1] – many leaders do not think that interfaith statements of hope, lemming-like support of government measures, and lockdown of the church for the foreseeable future is fine and necessary, and they are challenging the status quo. I had the privilege of spearheading, with Pastor Aaron Rock, a provincial campaign to reopen churches in Ontario which have been shut down despite businesses, retail and factories opening up. Over 400 churches have now signed our letter and counting.[2] The EFC would do well to begin a similar campaign for faithful churches to get behind.
The Illusion of Safety
Yet things appear to be worse elsewhere. Turning to the influential and frequently trend-setting motherland, a recent Evangelical Alliance (EA) article by Danny Webster is making the rounds, entitled “The Media Have it Wrong. Churches are not rushing to reopen their Doors.”[3] If this is a true reflection of evangelical opinion across the Atlantic, then the Covid-19 related social crisis has only further highlighted the precipitous decline of the evangelical mind in Britain. Perhaps we should all be asking ourselves whether in some measure we deserve our present exile and if so, will we learn anything from it? Because of the popularity and prevalence of the opinion expressed by the EA in the Western churches generally, Webster’s article warrants further analysis.
Webster and the EA apparently believe that the state’s treatment of churches as equivalent to restaurants, bars and cinemas is appropriate. It strikes me as tragic that the EA can find no evidence of UK church leaders anxious to get the churches open as soon as possible, suggesting instead that the vast majority of pastors implicitly support the notion that the people of God gathering for Word and sacrament and its wider ministry in the community is non-essential at this time. For the EA, being a good witness in our cultural moment means passive compliance with government policy and protecting people, or being ‘safe’ means not meeting at all. If it were in fact the church’s primary mandate to keep everyone safe from all risk, then the persecuted churches in communist and many Islamic nations today are dangerously irresponsible for continuing to meet and develop underground movements, because all such action exposes their congregants to extreme risk. Perhaps those Christians have something profoundly significant in mind in terms of the overall wellbeing of the church of Jesus Christ that makes trusting the sovereign God with the ordinary risks of life more important than the illusion of safety.
Webster uses familiar missiological phrases about the role of the church being to “proclaim Christ and to witness to his kingdom coming,” but he argues, “we do not do this by increasing the risk of harm to those we love and those we want to come to know Jesus.” Of course, this argument begs the real question about how to measure the harm of the present lockdown of the churches weighed against risks of infection, and overlooks the radical reductionism involved in reducing human health and wellbeing to biology and avoidance at all costs of exposure to viruses. And exactly how the indefinite lockdown of churches and mass quarantine of God’s people does enable us to ‘faithfully proclaim Christ’ and ‘witness to his kingdom coming’ – as like children we hide in the sofa cushions and heroically save the nation in our pyjamas via Zoom – is left unexplained.
I should add, whilst the Bible has important things to say about quarantining the seriously sick, you will not find a scriptural text where Christ or His apostles hid from the diseased and destitute, the lonely, depressed or dying in the interest of loving and saving them. If ever Christians should be wearied by empty evangelical platitudes to justify our inaction, it’s now.
The Abandonment of our Post
I have no doubt the article expresses a majority ‘evangelical’ opinion, but the real question is whether it represents a biblical and faithful response to an unprecedented indefinite lockdown of the church by civil government; is our response consistent with the historic witness of God’s people? At times like this, the truth and power of the gospel of the kingdom must be seen and heard – the Christian faith should come into its own as it has since plagues and panic-struck Rome in the time of the early Church. Yet some are actually abandoning the historic practices and gospel ministry tradition of God’s people in times of panic, sickness and crisis by hiding or fleeing. Some weeks ago, it was widely reported that members of the Church of England hierarchy (not the civil government) actually banned their own clergy[4] from ministering to the sick and dying (whether from Covid-19 or not) and even prevented them from streaming Easter services alone in their church buildings.
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The Person of the Holy Spirit
As the third person of the Trinity, the Spirit is co-equal with the Father and Son, and yet as a distinct person, the Holy Spirit is the one who regenerates us and guides us into all truth. He doesn’t speak on his own authority but relays the truth. The Holy Spirit is ever illuminating the work of the Son, bringing glory to Christ and declaring the Logos to the church.
Albert Mohler says, “In some evangelical circles the Holy Spirit has faded into the background of our theological interests, leaving us with an anemic view of the Spirit, and subsequently, a deficient relationship with the third member of the Trinity.”
The Bible is not silent regarding the person and work of the Holy Spirit! He appears on the opening page of Scripture (Genesis 1:2) and is seen throughout, most primarily in perfecting & sanctifying the believer.
The Person of the Holy Spirit
John 14:16-17 says, “16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, 17 even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, for he dwells with you and will be in you.”
Notice with me that Jesus does not say the Spirit of truth is an “it” – but uses the personal pronouns “he” and “Him”. “You know Him, for he dwells with you, and will be in you.” We would not describe our spouses as “it” – unless we wanted to sleep on the couch. The Holy Spirit is not an impersonal wind, ghost, or force that you can channel or use like Luke Skywalker with enough concentration.
The Holy Spirit of God has knowledge (1 Cor 2:10-11), a will (1 Cor 12:11), a mind (Rom 8:27), He loves (Rom 15:30), reveals (Acts 13:2), intercedes (Romans 8:26), teaches (John 14:26), guides (Acts 16:6-7), can be grieved (Eph 4:30), insulted (Heb 10:29), lied to (Acts 5:3), and blasphemed (Matt 12:31-32). These can all only be referring to a Person.
You can’t grieve or lie to an “it”. You can’t sin against an impersonal thing. No one has ever sinned against their toaster by grabbing a bagel at Panera instead of at home – but countless men have sinned against their wives by committing adultery.
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When We Feel Like Giving Up
I trained to be a lifeguard at a camp one summer when I was younger. I passed most of the tests, but there was one test where we had to tread water while holding a heavy weight for a few minutes. It was difficult, and I couldn’t do it. I gave up. I remember quitting and feeling like a failure. Adult life likewise brings no shortage of things that prompt us to give up, that make us feel like we’re just treading water. This world can be discouraging in its sin and brokenness.
The prophet Elijah gave up. He’d just achieved a monumental victory in serving the Lord by defying King Ahab and the false prophets on Mount Carmel. God had sent down fire to consume the sacrifice of Elijah, while the prophets of Baal had spent all day crying out to their impotent god. It was a time for supreme confidence, but that confidence was only momentary for Elijah. Queen Jezebel heard about what happened and swore to kill Elijah (1 Kings 19:2). What did Elijah do in response? He ran for his life down to Judah. He even left his servant behind and went into the wilderness—near the same wilderness in which Jesus was tempted. He had to get away. He sat down and said, “It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (1 Kings 19:4).
Elijah made a death wish: “Take away my life.” Have you ever made a death wish? Perhaps you haven’t made one out loud, but I think many of us have quietly wished we were dead in moments of desperation. I don’t mean suicidal; nor do I mean that we’re simply wishing for heaven. I mean we wish things were over. Done with. We’re tired of suffering, faltering, and struggling. We wish we could leave the trials and difficulties of this life behind. We just want to die.
When Elijah asked the Lord to take away his life because he was no better than his fathers, did he mean he couldn’t continue to live up to the calling of a prophet? Did he mean he recognized his human weakness, and it was simply not enough? Did he mean he couldn’t turn the hearts of the Israelites back to the Lord? It’s not clear. Maybe it was just a cry of desperation that didn’t have a strong grounding in any fact. It’s an expletive, as we might say, “I can’t take it anymore!” Whatever the case, Elijah fell asleep in the middle of the wilderness. But lo and behold, verses 5–7 tell us that an angel showed up. He touched Elijah and told him to get up and eat. In front of him was a baked cake with water. He slept again, and the angel came again with food and water. God gave him strength.