Eternal Perspectives

It is a remarkable, insightful statement from the mind of God as inscripturated through the pen of Paul, a word of truth that we – I speak as to Christians – seem to forget to remember far too often. That to which I refer is Eph 6.12:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. – (NASB)

God grants us insight on at least three levels in this message from Paul. First, of course, is that it is necessary for us to be strong and fully armed, ready to do battle against the enemies of God (Eph 6.10-18). This need to be clothed in spiritual battle attire makes clear that, apart from His provision of armor and a double-edged sword of truth, we are ill-equipped to engage in the unseen battle that is raging all around us. We are as one who brings a knife to a gun fight: we will be quickly overwhelmed and enslaved if we engage the enemy with our own weapons while relying on our own defenses.

Second, and just as obvious, is that the battle is a spiritual and not a physical one. It is not against people that we struggle but against the powers and principalities that motivate and direct the actions and attitudes of those who oppose the purposes of God. Slaves to sin and under the power of the evil one, men and women around the world carry out the plans of Satan. There is a spiritual, unseen war currently being waged all about us, of which we are generally forgetful.

The third thing we learn here – albeit we learn it implicitly* – is that those people who are slaves to sin and in the service of the enemy of God have no idea that they are serving evil in general and the achieving the purposes of Satan in particular. Such people are blind to the glory of God in Christ, unable to see the truth of the gospel, and without choice to serve sin. Even when their behavior is correct, their motivations are wrong. They are as ignorant of and as unresponsive to the purposes and will of God as a corpse is unaware of those looking at it in a funeral home. These people are literally the walking dead, cut off from the life that is in Christ Jesus.

That we forget the truth of Eph 6.12 is obvious when we become upset with those who oppose our own Christian agendas for our country and the world. It should not surprise us, however, to find the unbelieving world fighting against us: they are slaves to the enemy and the enemy is arrayed against God’s children. Or, to put it another way, they are “vessels of wrath fitted for destruction” that serve to glorify God through their contrast to us – hopefully (Rom 9.22-23).

These opponents of Christ need to be opposed by us, but we must remember that they are not willing or knowing warriors in the spiritual battle that is going on. We would do well, too, to remind ourselves of Eph 2.1-3:

And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.”

It may be somewhat easier for me to keep this in mind: I did not become a Christian until I was almost 25. I remember my opposition to God and the people of God, as well as my motivation: I truly believed that what I was proposing was not only a better way but more realistic and true.

I was blind, but now I see. But I remember what being blind is like. It was the love and compassion of others, not the power of their soporific, sophomoric** arguments that brought me to a point of repentance. Love and prayer, not logic and debate, are the most powerful evangelistic tools.

It is said that, prior to conversion, all a person experiences of God is an impending sense of judgment and wrath; only after salvation are they capable of knowing His love. It is also said that, for most people, the only Bible they’ll ever “read” is what they behold in the life of a Christian.

We would do better to show them the firmness and gentleness of God rather than display our own indignation and condescension. After all, they are just doing the best they can do with an unenlightened mind.

* When I come to a realization about something that’s not directly taught in the text, I refer to it as implicit teaching; if you do it, it’s eisogesis. Ah, the advantages of self-serving vocabulary!

** I was going to write “vapid and vacuous,” but that seemed too, well, you know, ostentatious.

In the beginning the Word already existed. He was with God, and he was God. He was in the beginning with God.

“He created everything there is. Nothing exists that he didn’t make.

“Life itself was in him, and this life gives light to everyone. The light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. God sent John the Baptist to tell everyone about the light so that everyone might believe because of his testimony. John himself was not the light; he was only a witness to the light. The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was going to come into the world.

“But although the world was made through him, the world didn’t recognize him when he came. Even in his own land and among his own people, he was not accepted. But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn! This is not a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan—this rebirth comes from God.

“So the Word became human and lived here on earth among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the only Son of the Father.

“No one has ever seen God. But his only Son, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart; he has told us about him.” - Jn 1.1-14 (NLT)

The one who existed from the beginning is the one we have heard and seen. We saw him with our own eyes and touched him with our own hands. He is Jesus Christ, the Word of life. This one who is life from God was shown to us, and we have seen him. And now we testify and announce to you that he is the one who is eternal life. He was with the Father, and then he was shown to us. We are telling you about what we ourselves have actually seen and heard, so that you may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.” – 1 Jn 1.1-3 (NLT)

Since Aug 19th of this year, I have been an emotional outsider among Godbloggers. I have wandered and read widely, commented infrequently, but for the most part remained an interested but quiet onlooker. My own posts have been few, especially since the death of my mother in early October.

Now, as I begin to re-enter the community of online believers, I thought I would pass along some observations and realizations that have come to me during my brief (all-too-brief, some might suggest) hiatus or sabbatical. I have no one particular in mind – for the most part – as I comment; many of the conclusions apply to me as well. When the latter is the case, the heading is bold and italicized; where I do not see myself, the heading is simply bold. Feel free to suggest my inclusion in other categories, even as I will feel free to totally ignore your input.

Here, then, in no particular order, are some of the things I’ve learned and concluded over the past five months or so of “lurking, sneaking, and spying” on y’all.

Doctrinal Divisiveness: So many people seem to be far too interested in distancing themselves from others by focusing on the issues and doctrines that divide us rather than accepting the differences and enjoying the diversity in the cyber-Body of Christ. This seems to be more prevelant among Reformed and charismatic bloggers, although in neither case do these island-dwellers constitute the majority. You’re Reformed and I’m not (at least by your definition); you’re charismatic and I’m not: so what? If you want to explain why you believe what you believe, defending it exegetically or at least theologically, I’ll read it happily. If you just want to make dogmatic statements and attack those who disagree, shut up: by keeping your mouth shut, we won’t know that you’re a fool.

It should go without saying that I refer only to non-essential articles of our common faith: it should go without saying but, given the pugnacious nature of some militant jihadists, I have to dumb down to rule out ridiculous comments and accusations.

Sports, Politics, & Hollywood: From an eternal perspective, does it really matter who wins the World Series, what politician D said about politician R, or who’s having whose baby? Now, if any of these topics are tied to a biblical principle or text and used to illustrate a point, that’s great; far too often, however, some blogs are little more than sport, political, or entertainment gossip columns. Sports and entertainment are diversions, drawing our attention away from more important things. Politics, on the other hand, are near-idols for some people: they seem to have more hope and faith in a Republican candidate than they do in the God who controls history. We are told to pray for those in authority over us, not to attempt to disparage or demean them. I’ve lived long enough to know that this country goes in cycles or, if you prefer, that it swings like a pendulum. Relax. Pray. Work on being a citizen of the Kingdom first and foremost. Christianity does not depend on the United States for its survival or well-being – although the converse is certainly true.

Confession vs. Catharsis: There is a difference between confessing a wrong-doing and spilling your guts just for the sake of feeling better for having said something. Note the italics: I have been guilty of this in the past. Confession is biblical and necessary for growth; catharsis is whining with no intent of changing. I’ll listen to confessions but I’d just as soon not have someone vomit their emotional bile all over me. If you’re struggling, that’s fine: I’ll listen and try to encourage. If all you’re doing is complaining about how miserably life and God have treated you and how underappreciated and misunderstood you are, then (a) do something about it or (b) get over yourself. Don’t expect me to join your pity party: I can throw one for myself just fine and don’t need to attend yours.

Psychology Drives Theology: Long ago I heard Bill Gothard say (when he wasn’t idolizing mommy and daddy) that “your morality determines your theology.” Sounds profound, but I don’t think it’s true. What is closer to the truth – although I wouldn’t die on this hill – is that your psychology influences and chooses your theology more than you might realize. Are you narcissistic? Then a church that trumpets and reveres your knowledge and wisdom – even to the point of allowing you to pass judgment on the Bible – is likely where you’ll wind up. Insecure and rigid? Find a church that nails everything down and leaves no room for antinomies or mystery. Flamboyant and histrionic? Join a church where being out-of-control is evidence of spirituality. Psychology-driven theology is apparent when people are a little too passionate about one or more of the non-essentials of our faith. It is not that their response is necessarily inappropriate; it is that their response is inordinate: questioning cessationism and continuationism evoke more passion than the Deity of Christ or the infallibility of the Bible. Something’s going on there and it’s not about theology.

Polemics: This is related to doctrinal divisiveness but gets a separate heading simply because I want to give it one. There is a strong tendency on the part of some to become more and more extreme as their views are questioned or challenged. Sadly, the exchange often devolves into a two-way street: both parties become more and more radical in their positions and wind up defending things that are perhaps logical but not biblical. Emotions overwhelm the debate and the platform – originally intended to be used for an edifying exchange of information – is transformed into an octagon of ultimate fighting.

Narcissistic Posts: Or, in some cases, narcissistic blogs. It’s all about me and what I think and feel and endure and suffer. Other people’s problems are insignificant compared to mine. People lost everything in a hurricane? Yeah, well, I don’t like my job and that’s all I want to talk about or focus on right now. Someone has said nasty or untrue things about me? Well, I’m coming after them with guns blazing. Ready! Fire! Aim! I am above reproach, not to be questioned, never to be confronted. Agree or pay the price. When I die, surely all wisdom will die with me.

Democracy Is Dangerous, Especially with Blogs: Bill Gnade, quoting Prof. Demos, wrote:

According to Plato there is a true right and wrong, which is a universal principle for all times . . . He objected to democracy, because a democratic society has no standards; the test is merely self-expression. The democratic life is one without a pattern, in which every desire is gratified because it is there, not because it is right.”

Mr. Gnade goes on to argue – rightly – that democracy leads many to believe that their own opinion is as valuable and viable as any one else’s, despite how ignorant, untrained, or inexperienced the original blogger might be. It is evident when, for example, someone theologically and psychologically trained (like me) takes it upon himself to pontificate about the nuances and problems with the Christian music industry. I know nothing about Christian music – I don’t buy it, listen to it, or even like 99% of it – but in my democratic dementia, I think my opinion should be valued just as much as someone who has been in the industry for years and years. This is not just stupidity; this is hubris. I need to defer to the experts and learn for a long time before believing I have something to say. Ask questions? Sure. Make declarative statements? Zip it.

Good People Are Among Us: This is one of the wonderful things I discovered as I wrestled through my difficult period. Some good men and women stuck by me, encouraged me, and prayed for me – even though I’ve met none of them face-to-face. These are people of integrity, whose word means something, and who understands love and patience. “Many a person proclaims their own loyalty,” Solomon said, “but a trustworthy person, who can find?” I found more than a few: Tim, Milton, Matt, William, Rey, Funky, and many other women and men who left comments and sent emails encouraging me during this time. When you’re deep in a hole, it’s nice to hear voices of people at the top calling down to you, letting you know you’ve not been forgotten.

Struggling is not leprosy, although in our sanitized churches we tend to treat it as such at times. Doubts can be contagious, it must be admitted, but it is better to go through them with someone rather than face them alone or abandon someone else until they’re “over it.”

Nice but not Necessary: I enjoy blogging most of the time and enjoy reading much of what others have to say. I’ve learned that some of the popular, controversial blogs hurt my relationship with God more than they help, so I’ve deleted them from my reading list. Plus, it makes it very hard to love my brothers in Christ when they act like spoiled brats.

Most importantly, though, I’ve learned that blogs and blogging are nice but not necessary. I really didn’t miss it when I stopped; I’m starting again only because of a sense of “calling” (although I don’t believe in “callings” as popularly imagined). If it all shut down tomorrow, that would be OK. I lived 55 years without blogs, the church survived c. 2K years without them, and I’m sure God can accomplish His purposes with or without blogs.

So I’ll enjoy it when I can, ignore it when I need to, and try to keep the whole thing in perspective. Maybe it will go better for me if I approach it in this way.

Apparently, something I wrote in my last post has led a few people to believe that I am on the verge of regular blogging once again. I fear such reports may be a tad premature. One observation, offered by William Meisheid at Beyond the Rim, states:

As I expected, Mike Russell at Eternal Perspectives has started to come out of the other side of his journey through the “Dark Night of the Soul”. There are only two branches on that road and Mike did not disappear into hopelessness, no matter how close he may have felt he was to the edge of the cliff.

William is at once correct and incorrect in what he says here. The purpose of this post is to explain, if anyone is particularly interested, where I am and where I’ve been, as well as to speculate on where I might be journeying next.

Allow me to begin the middle and work both ways. I am, I suppose, standing at a fork in that path which has been and is my life. The operant word is “standing,” for though I know which path I will not take, I do not know how to – or why I should – traverse the other. I stand now with both feet firmly planted in mid-air.

How I Got Here

I became a Christian just over 31 years ago (Dec 10, 1974) shortly before my 25th birthday (Dec 29). As I have detailed in my testimony (a link to which may be found elsewhere on this page), in my infinite wisdom of a 21-year-old, I had given up on finding anything worth committing myself to and had chosen a life of hedonism and nihilism. There is pleasure in sin for a season, of course, and I thoroughly enjoyed my “wanton and riotous” lifestyle for more than five years. God, however, pursued me in His typically relentless style and brought me to the point of clearly seeing both my need for and the salvation He freely offered. From my human perspective, I chose to believe; from His perspective, He chose for me to believe. Both are equally true.

For whatever reasons, I became deeply committed to the local church. This was somewhat peculiar, since I chose – or did God elect me? – to become a dispensationalist, a group notoriously negligent of the local church at times due to its eschatological, blind devotion to the invisible, universal Church, the Body of Christ. My decisions to get first a Masters Degree and then a Doctor of Ministry were motivated by my desire to serve the local church more effectively. I prepared, prayed, and made myself available for vocational ministry.

More than 30 years later, I have come to realize that my hopes and dreams of being on staff at a church were and are just vapors, the vain imaginings of my own mind. I was never sought nor desired by any church to be on staff, although some dangled a carrot on a stick before my face to keep my illusory hopes alive. With 56 just a week or so away, I have finally come to accept the fact that a staff position is not in the works for me.

The sense of lostness which has resulted from this realization has been overwhelming and utterly unforseen by me. Beyond the bounds of my family, the passion of my life has been to serve the church and the people of the church as effectively as possible. I do corrective work as a counselor, but I have always desired to do preventative work: the lack of discipleship and dearth of leadership have pained me. The phone never rang, however, and the call to fulltime ministry never materialized.

Where I Am

I continue to stand at the fork in the road because I have no motivation to go down either of the paths before me. I am not going to turn away from Christ and renounce that which I know to be true; I will not betray my friends, children, wife, or Savior by doing something so stupid. I continue to believe all that I have ever believed about God, salvation in Christ Jesus, eternal life, the resurrection, judgment, and a multitude of other biblical teachings.

The other path, though, does not appeal to me. It is a path that continues in the same direction that I have been moving for three decades: working as a counselor, going to church, being involved in ministry (as I was in the past), and building up the local body of believers – as well as any who might stumble upon this blog. I know it is a good path and a right path: I just don’t have the heart to take one step in that direction. I don’t want it to be and do not believe it to be my path.

The loss of passion – or “Fire in the Belly,” to use Keen’s title – leaves me flat. Some might say that I made the local church an idol and am now paying the price; my reply is that anyone who thinks that is an idiot. My desire to serve has grown out of my singular ambition as a Christian: to know God better tomorrow than I know Him today. My seeking of Him results in and produces the passion for the church – or so I thought. It would be more accurate to say that I limited God in the areas He might use me. Perhaps He does not want me ministering in and through the church; clearly He has not desired that for 31 years.

I have been helped – but not yet rescued – in my wrestling with life by a variety of sources. Chief among those sources has been J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and many of the books and articles written about him and his sub-creation of Middle-earth. I have watched the movie (it is a singular movie: only at the close of “The Return of the King” does it say “The End”), listened several times to the 13-hour BBC adaptation of the book on cd, and am re-reading the myth for the third or fourth time.

The writings of others about Tolkien’s classic have been immensely helpful, as well. The first ray of hope came from Amanda of Wittingshire, who chose for her Nov 12th poem a prophecy about Aragorn:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”

–JRR Tolkien (1892-1973)

The first two lines encouraged me; the next two challenged me; the final four did not apply to me at all. It was to mark the beginning, however, of my climb out of the deep grave where my hopes of church ministry were recently buried. I am indebted to her for her choice of poems that Sunday.

I then began re-reading books about The Lord of the Rings, noticing things I had overlooked previously and being reminded of important insights I had forgotten. I skimmed Mark Eddy Smith’s Tolkien’s Ordinary Virtues, which discusses such values as generosity, simplicity, friendship, faith, community, atonement, wisdom, stewardship, perseverance, and love. I next turned to J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth by Bradley Birzer. He reminded me that

Undoubtedly, Sam would rather stay at home and garden and farm than walk into the heart of Hell itself. But God has a different task for him, and Sam accepts his duty, as all good men do.” – p. 73

Of greater import and impact were books by Ralph Wood and Matthew Dickerson: The Gospel According to Tolkien and Following Gandalf, respectively. Remarking on Sam’s hard-earned wisdom, Wood writes:

On the one hand, the tales that do not matter concern there-and-back again adventures – escapades undertaken because we are bored and thus seek excitement and entertainment. The tales that rivet the mind, on the other hand, involve a Quest that we do not choose for ourselves. Instead, we find ourselves embarked upon a journey or mission quite apart from our choosing. What counts, says Sam, is not whether the Quest succeeds but whether we turn back or slog ahead. One reason for not giving up, not quitting, is that the great tales are told about those who refused to surrender – those who ventured forward in hope.”

Dickerson, however, resonates with me most deeply. His focus on and elaboration of a simple statement of Aragorn’s has confronted me with the realization that I must do something and not nothing:

If there is one character in whom, and for whom, the importance and difficulty of choice is captured, it is Aragorn. When Éomer first meets Aragorn, he senses something deep and noble about this stranger to Rohan. ‘What doom do you bring out of the North?’ he asks. ‘The doom of choice’ answers Aragorn (TT, p. 36). In other words, when Aragorn answers, ‘The doom of choice,’ he is really answering, ‘freedom’; freedom is his fate, his destiny, his punishment. Though only four words long, that answer is truly one of those sentences that – like the proverbial picture – is worth a thousand words. Many different understandings are layered there. Even the word doom is loaded. In its Anglo-Saxon roots, it refers simply to a law. Yet it can also connote a judgment or sentence passed down, a destiny or fate laid upon one, or some terrible thing waiting to happen. It is also one of the root words of freedom, or ‘free-doom’: the state in which one’s doom, or destiny, is free for one to choose.

“At one level, then, Tolkien is making a statement about all the race of Men: Choice is our doom. Not only are we free and able to choose, it is our destiny as beings of free will that we must make choices – and then live with the consequences of those choices!”

In short, Dickerson instructs me that I cannot linger too long at this fork in the path. I must make a choice and I will not only endure the consequences of the choice, but I am responsible before God to choose wisely.

Serendipitously, I came upon a series of posts – “Lord of the Vocations” – at Kelly’s Blog, a blog whose simple name conceals considerable depth and insight. (The posts, in order, may be found by the following links: I, II, III, IV, IVb, V.) Kelly explains,

A vocation is a ‘calling’– a job that each one of us has been given to do in service to our neighbors. Tolkien emphasizes the fact that vocations are not chosen; rather, they are given to us . . .” – Lord of the Vocations Part II

“Sam is to be admired because when it comes to his calling, he sees it through. As the first vocation post noted, it’s often the long waiting and the daily drudgery that are our crosses to bear in our individual vocations; the temptation is to take the easy way out and do our own thing rather than to wait patiently.” – Lord of the Vocations Part IVb

What has frozen me in my steps until yesterday has been the question of vocation: I had always hoped, planned, and forseen my vocation or calling in the context of fulltime ministry in a local church. But that has not been my doom nor my calling. There is a vocation that predates my affair with the church; indeed, it was present in my life prior to my salvation. From my teen years onward there has been one constant in my life that, although at times neglected, has remained.

I have always been a writer.

Even before spending more than a decade as a writer for a daily newspaper, I was writing letters, stories, allegories, and poems to whatever audience would read them. My writing has generally been well-received and validated (I won a state Associated Press award); more importantly, I have always loved to write. I have studied writing and communication for almost forty years, seeking to discover effective ways to evoke visceral responses while engaging cognitive capacities.

Although the possibility of me earning a living by writing is virtually non-existent, it is my calling and vocation. It is to that calling that I must return.

There remains a problem, however, and it is no small obstacle. I have yet to ignite or have ignited the burning desire to share with others what I consider to be of value and significance. I do not know all the reasons why, but at least one roadblock has shown its face: I have grown weary of the criticisms of dullards and small-minded people who would reduce God and our common faith to a lock-step, stay-safe lifestyle. I consider such people to be fools in the proverbial sense:

Pr 12:15 The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man is he who listens to counsel.

Pr 17:10 A rebuke goes deeper into one who has understanding than a hundred blows into a fool.

Pr 18:2 A fool does not delight in understanding, but only in revealing his own mind.

Pr 19:1 Better is a poor man who walks in his integrity than he who is perverse in speech and is a fool.

Pr 20:3 Keeping away from strife is an honor for a man, but any fool will quarrel.

Pr 23:9 Do not speak in the hearing of a fool, for he will despise the wisdom of your words.

Pr 29:9 When a wise man has a controversy with a foolish man, the foolish man either rages or laughs, and there is no rest.

Such people make me tired. I will not interact with them anymore; if they leave just one foolish comment regarding a post, I’ll block them permanently. I’ve grown intolerant; I’ve grown to value my time.

I find the creativity and beauty of God all around me, in the works of the saved and the unsaved alike. I refuse to be a bumper-sticker Christian, i.e., one whose every conversation or communication must draw attention to the fact that I am a believer in Jesus Christ. My automobile bears a plastic fish: it is inside, near the gearshift. I need to be reminded who I am; if others can’t see it in my behavior and life, then a bumper sticker isn’t going to make them repent and trust Christ as Savior.

I suppose I could motivate myself to write by railing against the church and the ubiquitous dolts who seek to paralyze it, but I don’t want to write out of anger or condescension. I must wait until it is a love for others that stirs my heart and mind, calling me back to my calling.

In closing, I will admit to this much: I have begun to design a second blog that will be devoted to timeless truths and principles as expressed in a certain context. When the time comes, I will continue to utilize this blog to voice confessions, commentaries, or whatever else would not belong at the other site.

Thank you for bearing this inordinately and uncharacteristically long post. The good news – for me, at least – is that I am beginning to feel the need to write once again.

By employing the word “emerging,” I’m referring to me, not any church or movement.

Into whatever hole I had fallen over the last several months, starting back in August with the post Losing My Way and then having my descent exacerbated or accelerated by my mother’s death in October, I’m believe I am at last free from both the fall and the abyss. Not surprisingly, I don’t seem to be altogether the same person that fell into the hole.

In a later post, I had likened my situation to that of Gandalf who, in battle with a balrog, fell into Khazad-Dûm, a seemingly bottomless darkness. I was not comparing myself to Gandalf – he is, after all, an angelic figure in The Lord of the Rings – but was rather identifying with the sense of falling into a deep, dark spaceless and timeless void. But, even as Gandalf emerged, so I now think that I have come out of the feelings of hopelessness and despair that pulled me down so deeply.

Gandalf emerged as Gandalf the White, the head of his order, more powerful than previously. I certainly have not fared so well: I’m hardly angelic these days; but then, that is no different than previously. The truth is, I am not totally convinced to whom I might liken myself these days.

There is much about me, I am told, that reminds people of Aragorn. It is a flattering comparison, no doubt, and one that I supposed I chased after for a long time: the unrecognized one who would some day be revealed and granted the opportunity to serve in a position of high responsibility and privilege. Unlike Aragorn in the movie – but much like him in the book and cds – I had few doubts about my destiny, purpose, and ability. It was something I sought and for which I believed myself to be prepared and equipped.

I sought it in vain, as has been shown by my history, which does not lie; I sought it vainly as well, perhaps, which might explain the history. But who among us can claim to have an ego so pure that it does not seek recognition or the acclaim of our peers?

I no longer aspire to Aragorn. I would like to think of myself – again in a most flattering and favorable comparison – to Faramir, the faithful captain of Gondor and short-lived Steward of Gondor. When the king appeared, he stepped aside and yielded to one better than himself. Faramir, in the book, was a pure and noble man. The line of the Númenoreans was strong in him, as it had been in his father but not Boromir, his brother.

Of late, I have been drawn to identify with Tom Bombadil. Those of you who have only seen the wonderful movies are unfamiliar with this intriguing character from the books and cds. The hobbits are rescued by him early in their journey and stay with him at his home. Tom lives with his wife, Goldberry, and cares little about the cares of the world. He is a powerful man, similar to but greater than Beorn in The Hobbit, and over him the ring has no power. Indeed, when Frodo slips on the ring while in Tom’s presence, Bombadil looks right at him and scolds him for putting it on: Frodo was invisible to all others, but not to Tom. When Tom asks to see the ring, Frodo easily gives it to him; when Tom puts the ring on his own finger, a remarkable thing happens: nothing! Tom does not become invisible; the ring does not appeal to him nor have power over him. He is free.

At one point during the council of Elrond, several in attendance discuss Tom. Elrond is speaking as we pick up the dialogue:

‘He [Bombadil] is a strange creature, but maybe I should have summoned him to our Council.’

“‘ He would not have come,’ said Gandalf.

“‘Could we not still send messages to him and obtain his help?’ asked Erestor. ‘It seems that he has a power even over the Ring.’

“‘ No, I should not put it so,’ said Gandalf. ‘Say rather that the Ring has no power over him. He is his own master. But he cannot alter the Ring itself, nor break its power over others. And now he is withdrawn into a little land, within bounds that he has set, though none can see them, waiting perhaps for a change of days, and he will not step beyond them.’

“‘But within those bounds nothing seems to dismay him,’ said Erestor. ‘Would he not take the Ring and keep it there, for ever harmless?’

“‘No,’ said Gandalf, ‘not willingly. He might do so, if all the free folk of the world begged him, but he would not understand the need. And if he were given the Ring, he would soon forget it, or most likely throw it away. Such things have no hold on his mind. He would be a most unsafe guardian; and that alone is answer enough.’

“‘But in any case,’ said Glorfindel, ‘to send the Ring to him would only postpone the day of evil . . . soon or late the Lord of the Rings would learn of its hiding place and would bend all his power towards it. Could that power be defied by Bombadil alone? I think not. I think that in the end, if all else is conquered, Bombadil will fall.’” – pp. 258-259, Book Two, The Lord of the Rings

There is something about Tom Bombadil that feels familiar to me. Not the power or invulnerability to the Ring, but the detachment and lack of desire for things once pursued. Tom cares about the world about him – he rescues the hobbits not once but twice, after all – but somehow does not feel compelled to engage it directly. He does what he was created to do, it seems, and when opportunity to do good or to help comes to his attention, he does so. He epitomizes Pr 30.8-9 and Ps 131.1:

Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is my portion, that I not be full and deny You and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’ or that I not be in want and steal, and profane the name of my God.”

“O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; nor do I involve myself in great matters, or in things too difficult for me.”

Tom is content, it seems, to be a simple man who lives out his life in relative – and peaceful – obscurity. He knows what goes on in the world but stays in his place, doing the work before him, enjoying God’s creation, and delighting in the wife of his youth. It is an appealing image and one to which it is tempting to aspire.

But closer to the mark, I think, is Bilbo. He played his part in the great saga – as recorded in The Hobbit – but now his time for active duty has passed. He is a caring, concerned spectator and historian of that which goes on about him. But he is grown old and the time for battle is beyond both his desire and ability. His wisdom, if it may be called that, is not without value, but he diminishes as Frodo becomes greater. The most famous of all the hobbits, as Sam rightly predicts, is not Bilbo but Frodo.

My fifty-sixth birthday is upon me in a few weeks and – while hardly as respectable an age as eleventy-one! – it feels as though it is time to go to Rivendell. To heed the advice of Paul: “to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands” (1 Thes 4.11). It sounds quite appealing and right.

Considerable discussions are taking place regarding how to determine whether or not a church is still a church, i.e., has a lampstand (Rev 2.4-5). Having raised some questions myself in an earlier post, I thought perhaps the most valuable contribution I could make at this point would be to provide a couple of quotes of by two men who have written commentaries on the passage (Eph 2.1-7) in question.

The first commentary is from Robert Mounce, who earned a Ph.D. from the University of Aberdeen. His commentary is part of the New International Commentary on the New Testament, edited by F.F. Bruce. Mounce writes:

As one who walks in the midst of the churches, Christ is able to say, ‘I know thy works’ . . . The works which Christ knows are not so much separate acts as they are an overall manner of life. The two nouns which follow (toil and patience) give the active and passive sides of this lifestytle. The Ephesians had toiled to the point of exhaustion and borne patiently the hostility of a society at odds with their goals and efforts . . .

“Every virtue carries within itself the seeds of its own destruction. It seems probable that desire for sound teaching and the resulting forthright action taken to exclude all imposters had created a climate of suspicion in which brotherly love could no longer exist. Barclay conjectures that ‘the eagerness to root out all mistaken men had ended in a sour and rigid orthdoxy’ . . . Good works and pure doctrine are not adequate substitutes for that rich relationship of mutual love shared by persons who have just experienced the redemptive love of God. The Ephesian church had left its first love. The expression includes both love of God and love of mankind at large, but seems to refer mainly to their love for one another . . . A cooling of personal love for God inevitably results in the loss of harmonious relationships within the body of believers. Jesus had made it clear that ‘by this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another’ . . .

“The church is called upon to remember the earlier days in which love abounded in the congregation . . . First love is pictured as a height from which the church had fallen. The present imperative, ‘remember,’ stands in contrast to the aorist imperative, ‘repent,’ and suggests a continuing attitude over against a decisive break. Bear in mind the loving relationships you once enjoyed and make a clean break with your present manner of life! . . . The love that John requires is not an ‘undiscriminating amiability’ (Kiddle, p. 24), but an attitude toward the brethren which expresses itself in loving acts. Moffatt remarks that ‘the way to regain this warmth of affection is neither by working up spasmodic emotion nor by theorising about it . . . but by doing its duties’ (p. 351). Repentance is an active step.”

The second quote is from Alan F. Johnson, Th.D. (Dallas Theological Seminary), writing in the Expositors Bible Commentary, edited by Frank Gaebelein.

The speaker’s verdict shows, on the other hand, that however much had been gained at Ephesus by resisting the false apostles, not all was well there. They had ‘forsaken,’ or ‘let go’ (aphiemi), their ‘first love.’ This was a serious defect. If uncorrected, it would result in their loss of light bearing (v. 5). The majority of commentators take the first love to refer to the original Christian love the Ephesians had for one another. Paul’s exhortation to the Ephesian elders to ‘help the weak’ (Acts 20:35) and the warm commendation he gives them in their early years for their fervent love of one another (Eph 1:15) may lend support to this view.

“Other commentators, however, see the ‘first love’ as a reference to their inner devotion to Christ that characterized their earlier commitment, like the love of a newly wedded bride for her husband John R.W. Stott, What Christ Thinks of the Church [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1958], p. 27; Alf, 4:563). This interpretation is supported by the fact that the letters to the other churches reveal problems of inner betrayal to Christ as subjects of his complaint. Neither view necessarily eliminates the other. Loving devotion to Christ can be lost in the midst of active service, and certainly no amount of orthodoxy can make up for a failure to love one another. ‘First’ (protos) love would suggest that they still loved, but with a quality and intensity unlike that of their initial love.

“The speaker’s command further exposes the problem and offers a way to correct the fault. The imperatives are instructive: ‘Remember…. Repent … do.’ The Ephesians are called on to reflect on their earlier works of fervent love (like the Sardians [3:3]), to look in comparison at the present situation, to ponder how far they have fallen from their former devotion and enthusiasm, to humbly ‘repent’ (totally change) before God, and to do the former works motivated by love. These imperatives are all part of a single action designed to keep the Ephesians from the judgment of Christ, which would effectively remove them as his representatives in the world.

“How many churches today stand at this same crossroads? Do we sense the importance to Christ of not only honoring his name by our true confession but also reflecting his life by our loving relationship to others? This threat of loss of light bearing (or witness) applies doubtless equally to the other four churches, to whom a similar exhortation to repent is given (Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, and Laodicea).

To all of us who blog or comment:

Do not let kindness and truth leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.
“So you will find favor and good repute in the sight of God and man.”

There are six things which the LORD hates, yes, seven which are an abomination to Him:
“Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
“A heart that devises wicked plans, feet that run rapidly to evil,
“A false witness who utters lies, and one who spreads strife among brothers.”

He who corrects a scoffer gets dishonor for himself, and he who reproves a wicked man gets insults for himself.”

“Do not reprove a scoffer, or he will hate you, reprove a wise man and he will love you.”

“Give instruction to a wise man and he will be still wiser, teach a righteous man and he will increase his learning.”

Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions.”

When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable, but he who restrains his lips is wise.”

He who goes about as a talebearer reveals secrets, but he who is trustworthy conceals a matter.”

Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid.”

“The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man is he who listens to counsel.”

“A fool’s anger is known at once, but a prudent man conceals dishonor.”

“He who speaks truth tells what is right, but a false witness, deceit.”

“There is one who speaks rashly like the thrusts of a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”

He who walks with wise men will be wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.”

In all labor there is profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty.

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.
“The tongue of the wise makes knowledge acceptable, but the mouth of fools spouts folly.”

A scoffer does not love one who reproves him, he will not go to the wise.”

“The mind of the intelligent seeks knowledge, but the mouth of fools feeds on folly.”

A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but the slow to anger calms a dispute.”

“The heart of the righteous ponders how to answer, but the mouth of the wicked pours out evil things.”

He whose ear listens to the life-giving reproof will dwell among the wise.”

“He who neglects discipline despises himself, but he who listens to reproof acquires understanding.”

“All the ways of a man are clean in his own sight, but the LORD weighs the motives.”

He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit, than he who captures a city.”

“He who restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding.
“Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is considered prudent.”

He who gives an answer before he hears, it is folly and shame to him.”

Strike a scoffer and the naive may become shrewd, but reprove one who has understanding and he will gain knowledge.”

“Keeping away from strife is an honor for a man, but any fool will quarrel.”

When the scoffer is punished, the naive becomes wise; but when the wise is instructed, he receives knowledge.”

Do not associate with a man given to anger; or go with a hot-tempered man,
“Or you will learn his ways and find a snare for yourself.”

Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken in right circumstances.
“Like an earring of gold and an ornament of fine gold is a wise reprover to a listening ear.”

Like a trampled spring and a polluted well is a righteous man who gives way before the wicked.”

“Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you will also be like him.
“Answer a fool as his folly deserves, that he not be wise in his own eyes.”

“Do you see a man wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him.”

Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.”

“He who rebukes a man will afterward find more favor than he who flatters with the tongue.”

When a wise man has a controversy with a foolish man, the foolish man either rages or laughs, and there is no rest.”

Do you see a man who is hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him.”

An angry man stirs up strife, and a hot-tempered man abounds in transgression.”

Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all the unfortunate.
“Open your mouth, judge righteously, and defend the rights of the afflicted and needy.”

414. The only thing that consoles us for our miseries is diversion. And yet it is the greatest of our miseries. For it is that above all which prevents us thinking about ourselves and leads us imperceptibly to destruction. But for that we should be bored, and boredom would drive us to seek some more solid means of escape, but diversion passes our time and brings us imperceptibly to our death.

417. Not only do we only know God through Jesus Christ, but we only know ourselves through Jesus Christ; we only know life and death through Jesus Christ. Apart from Jesus Christ we cannot know the meaning of our life or our death, of God or of ourselves.

Thus without Scripture, whose only object is Christ, we know nothing, and can see nothing but obscurity and confusion in the nature of God and in nature itself.

NOTE: No sooner do I tell “this mob that knows nothing of the law” that I need to study and write about other things than I am accosted by a request for an excursus. Well, OK this time but don’t expect this to happen all the time!

Over the 30+ years I have been a Christian, there have been times when I have heard a preacher say something akin to the following:

“So these people have given up on the church, have they? Well, I’ve got news for them: God [sometimes pronounced as "Gawd" or "Gi-odd"] hasn’t given up on His church! He’s not through with her at all!

And then everyone – who is obviously not the target of this barb, sitting in the pew as they are – responds with shouts of “Amen!” or “Glory!” or “Hallelujah!” The thinking behind this statement seems to be that God is committed to the church and that, no matter how bad it gets, He will always be there to bless them and commune with them.

But I’m not so convinced. I suppose I started questioning the veracity of this reasoning one time when I was reading Malachi. God declares to the prophet,

‘You are presenting defiled food upon My altar. But you say, “How have we defiled You?” In that you say, “The table of the LORD is to be despised.” But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly?’ says the LORD of hosts. ‘But now will you not entreat God’s favor, that He may be gracious to us? With such an offering on your part, will He receive any of you kindly?’ says the LORD of hosts. ‘Oh that there were one among you who would shut the gates, that you might not uselessly kindle fire on My altar! I am not pleased with you,’ says the LORD of hosts, ‘nor will I accept an offering from you.’”

“Shut the gates” to the temple? Where does that leave the faithful like Malachi to worship? What are they to do? But, more to the purpose of this post, has God given up on the temple at this point? Is He allowed to do that according to our theology?

Ah, but that was the Old Testament; we live under the New Covenant, where God treats us better. But then there’s that little matter of the Lord Jesus Christ’s warning to the church at Ephesus. With letters from Paul and elders such as John and Timothy, the believers at Ephesus were a shining light during the early days of Christianity. Nevertheless, no more than 60 years later, the Lord warns,

Therefore remember from where you have fallen, and repent and do the deeds you did at first; or else I am coming to you and will remove your lampstand out of its place—unless you repent.” – Rev 2.5

For a church to lose its lampstand was – and is – the equivalent of losing its charter. There are times when a Four Seasons hotel or a Saltgrass Steak House loses its charter for failing to maintain the standard of excellence required by the chain. The hotel or restaurant may continue in business, but they are no longer affiliated with the chain. Whatever they may be in the future, they are neither a Four Seasons nor a Saltgrass Steak House.

It is no less possible for a church to lose its charter, i.e., its lampstand. In the case of Ephesus – to which the quote was addressed – it was for falling from her first love. Most likely the fall involved her singular devotion to Jesus Christ and the love that the members had for one another. Without repentance, the church at Ephesus faced the loss of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit during its worship services and ministries. Believers, of course, remained indwelt but the blessing of God upon the worship and ministry of the church had been removed.

It is foolish for any church today to think that it is not possible to lose its lampstand. I suspect there are more than a few gatherings on Sunday mornings that are lacking a “charter” from God. There may be activity, lively singing, fun fellowship, and strong preaching – but for whatever reason, the Holy Spirit is not participating and the angels are not observing the festivities. Such organizations are little different from secular service clubs from God’s perspective.

The critical question, then, is this: What are the basic requirements for a church to obtain and maintain a “charter” and thereby enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit and the angels in its gatherings? What must be present for Him to be present; what must be absent for Him to remain?

I will suggest two factors that I believe are non-negotiable:

1. A love for God expressed in obedience;

2. A love for one another manifested by active participation in one another’s lives and a commitment to fulfilling the numerous “one another’s” of the New Testament.

Perhaps there are others but I’ll mention only these two. Are there more? If so, why? We would all benefit from having some concept for what constitutes a true church that is still in possession of her lampstand. Otherwise we might find ourselves in a nice gathering of people that lost its charter some time ago.

The following are some quotes I found intriguing. They are taken from The Physics of Consciousness by Evan Harris Walker; you can click the link in the sidebar to order it. He is not overtly Christian (at least to this point). He has a Ph.D. in physics; he is not a philosopher, or at least from the school of philosophers.

He writes:

We weave daydreams, play lotteries, and plunge each evening into the TV screen. It takes us floating into a world of illusory concerns and escapist fantasy. We know it is illusion. But so is the rest. All the things that control the mind – books, magazines, letters, placards, posters, e-mail, faxes, data – all the things that tell us what to think are all a part of our world of fantasy. They are today’s religion. Where do we go for salvation?”

Physics is the cornerstone of our scientific knowledge. In the realm of actual knowledge, it provides us with the foundation, with the procedures, with the means for confirmation that we need if we are to search out and find the answers to those age-old questions . . .

“It is the path we have to take so that we may discover reality opened up to our vision, naked, like a lovely woman whose beauty and allure are at once mystery and revelation. Physics is the tool we must use to learn about reality. But it has its hazards. If we are not careful, she will ensnare us. If we are not careful, we may begin to believe there is nothing else but this physical reality” . . .

Modern physics as no place for any deity, and the message rings even in the ears of the vandal in the street: ‘There is no sacrilege – only the moment, only the event’ . . .

“Today people need proof in order to believe, and they deserve that proof. The degeneration in the values of our society is not due to the waywardness of the people or to the affluence that permits a lax morality. It is not the secular city or drugs or a rebellious youth that has caused society to drift away from God. It is, instead, the message of science borne on the wings of our fast technology. It is the thinking of intellectuals of a century ago that has come down to the streets. The ideas that are today a matter of academic speculation begin tomorrow to move armies and topple empires.

“It is the perceptions of our science, the tenets of modern physics so well summarized by Davies, that now instruct our futures – into the streets. But it is all wrong.

Harvey Cox writes, ‘I have tried to make clear that metaphysical operations cannot be muted by the secular age, but that the metaphysical systems will neither again integrate whole societies nor still men’s persistent questions as once they did.’ But Cox is dreadfully wrong. There are answers. The truth does exist, and when the truth is honestly sought, with a mind that is ready to accept the truth, whatever the truth turns out to be, then the answers do come, and the answers change people.”

We will gaze through an open doorway, looking beyond the lifeless forms that our lives have become – looking beyond, into the very face of God.”

Jollyblogger has written an informative and typically reasonable post about Halloween and the Christian response to it. What follows is a comment I started to post there but thought it not considerate: better that I should defile my own blog instead of his. Here’s what I was thinking:

You know, there’s a difference between being fools for Christ and just being stupid. There are people in the United States, in your town (likely), and in your church (perhaps) that live in poverty, can’t make ends meet, can’t afford medications for things like – this is a fact – chemotherapy, and we sit around a whine and debate the pros and cons of Halloween, wondering if we should take our $50,000 SUV to run our sugar-crazed kids around the upscale neighborhoods or put on our $150 running shoes and get a little aerobic exercise instead.

“To use the old sermon illustration, most Christians don’t give a shit that other believers are living in deplorable conditions – and the proof that most don’t care is that they’re more upset that I said “shit” on a Christian blog than they are that people live like that.

“We – and I include myself – need either to stop playing around and calling ourselves Christians or to get serious about living in a way that people will recognize that we’re Christians – without bumper sticks, asinine fish emblems, expensive crosses on gold chains, tee shirts, or anything else to let the world know that we’re God’s chosen people. I suspect many nonbelievers are happy to have us display such visible identifiers: it’s like belling the cat. The fact that we have to have such trinkets is evidence of our decadence and our failure to embody Christ.

“For Christ’s sake, a lot of us need to get back in the closet and not come out until we’re ready to live a life that glorifies our Savior. And maybe Halloween will take care of itself.”