Paul’s High View of Jesus
One of the joys of the Christian life is to mine the riches of the Bible’s appeals to Jesus’ divinity— some of which can be tricky to discern, others which are staring us in the face. One appeal, one that’s glaring at us, is found in Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi. In chapter 3, Paul issues a clarion call to humility in view of Jesus’ example in 2:6-11. After Paul highlights the humility of Jesus in his incarnation, describing him as “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross,” Paul points to the day of his exaltation, when the whole world will take a knee in homage to Jesus. He writes these words:
“Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
Most of us are familiar with this famous flourish. But how many of us know that Paul is quoting the Prophet Isaiah when he writes these words? Isaiah 45:22-23 reads:
“Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other. By myself I have sworn; from my mouth has gone out in righteousness a word that shall not return: ‘To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.’”
Paul attributes this grand declaration of God, pointing to the end of history, to Jesus Christ. The same one who says, “For I am God and there is no other” is the one who was “obedient to death, even death on a cross.” This is the divinity of Christ staring us in the face. This is Paul’s view of Jesus—that He is the God before whom every creature will lie prostrate. Dear friends, put this little gem in your pocket and bring it out the next time someone says that Jesus is merely a good man. Say something like, “I have it on good authority that Jesus is Lord of all.” If they ask, “Says who?” say to them, “That great persecutor turned church planter—Paul was his name. He told me.”
The Mission of Tremont Temple
The mission of a church is like its North Star—no matter where a church finds itself in a given year or season, she wisely fixes her eyes on her mission in order stay on the path of faithfulness to Jesus. Though churches may articulate their mission in various ways, the Bible tells us what our mission is. Jesus gave it to the Apostles before his ascension, and the mission remains the same for churches today:
“Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” -Matthew 28:16-20
“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” -Acts 1:8
Back in 2020, I sought to articulate our mission of making disciples at TTBC. From time to time over the years since, particularly when we’ve entered into partnerships for the gospel, I have sought to direct our gaze again to our mission. But our desire as elders is to do a better job as a church keeping our eyes on the mission, that we’ll more wisely and joyfully fulfill it in this generation. As members, it would be a fruitful endeavor if we became fluent in understanding our mission, to the point that we could articulate it and aim at it together. Below is the mission of TTBC along with the biblical foundations for it. Take the time to commit it to memory, that we would be a church that seek’s God’s glory through disciple-making.
Our mission, which is to make disciples must be centered on the gospel of Jesus Christ. To that end, Tremont Temple’s mission can be divided into three great aims that we will strive for, with the help of God.
1. Gospel Culture: To maintain fellowship within the body, built on the foundation of God’s Word, marked by the fruits of sacrificial love, and forged in a unity that draws sinners to the gospel.
“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.” -Ephesians 4:15-16
“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.” -John 17:20-23
2. Gospel Compassion: To serve Boston in many practical ways and to attend to the suffering of the “least of these” so that unbelievers see our good works and give glory to God.
“In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” -Matthew 5:16
“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.” -Titus 2:11-14
“Only, they asked us to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do.” - Galatians 2:10
3. Gospel Mobilization: To establish new churches and strengthen existing ones through the training and sending leaders so that the gospel will flourish in other places for God’s glory.
“…and thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named, lest I build on someone else’s foundation…” -Romans 15:20
“This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you—” -Titus 1:5
As we consider the three aims, surely there is work to be done to be more faithful! However, by the grace of God, we can make progress. As William Carey, the missionary to India once said, “I can plod.” So can we!
Jesus is the Ladder
The story in Genesis 28, commonly referred to as “Jacob’s ladder” is a popular Bible passage, and yet its richness is often lost on us. On the road to Emmaus, in Luke 24, Jesus teaches us to look for Him in all the Bible. But He goes even further than that—He’s not just there. He’s the whole point:
“And he said to them, “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.” - Luke 24:25-27
We’re talking about a new way of reading Genesis to Revelation. Jesus isn’t hiding in the background of every passage like a Where’s Waldo sketch. But the rich themes of Jesus’ person and His work of redemption by prophecy, typology, allusion, and by many other means all point to Jesus, who is the main concern of God’s Word.
In Genesis 28, Jacob dreams about a ladder—a word that can also mean staircase. And what he sees is heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending stairs. Some, like scholar Richard Baukham, argue that what’s in view is something like the ziggurats, constructed in ancient Mesopotamia, which can be described as rectangular-shaped towers, often with a temple at the top. The idea espoused by those who built them were that you must climb them to meet with God, often at great heights. But the interesting thing is how Genesis 28 describes what takes place next. In verse 13 and on, Moses describes the scene and the Lord’s words to Jacob:
“And behold, the Lord stood above it* and said, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac. The land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring.” (13)
I suppose we often take for granted that the Lord is said to stand above the stairs, and yet you will notice in your Bible a note next to the phrase (in the ESV) “above it” which reads, “or beside him.” The latter interpretation is firmed up when we look down at verse 15. After reiterating to Jacob the promise made originally to Abraham in verse 14, that his “offspring shall be like the dust of the earth…” he says in verse 15, “Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” There seems to be a sense that instead of Jacob climbing up the ladder to God, that God has come down to him. Jacob concludes that the special presence of God is where He is. Not above the clouds, but down below, on the way to Haran. He says, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.”
We get the sense that this revelation of God on the road to Haran carries even more of the resin of redemption when we consider Jesus’ calling of Phillip and Nathaneal in John 1. “Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” Jesus answered him, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” - John 1:49-51.
Jesus is quoting Genesis 28, the account of Jacob’s dream. What are the angels of God ascending and descending on in Genesis 28? A stairway or ladder, as we said. But what does Jesus say, here? That Nathaneal will see the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man. Who is the Son of Man? He is. By this reference, Jesus reveals something profound about Jacob’s dream. And what he reveals is that Jacob’s ladder points to Jesus, Himself. The one who describes himself in chapter 10 of John as the door, or in chapter 14:6 as the “The Way, the Truth, and Life” is also describing himself in chapter 1 as the ladder—the way to heaven. Only, unlike what the false religions of ancient Mesopotamia espoused, we don’t have the climb the ladder. God, Himself—Jesus, has opened heaven and come down to us. And by faith in Him, there is a day coming when we will rise to God in resurrection.
God’s Word is amazing!
Remember God
One of the observations from Psalm 31 this past Sunday was that in times of trouble, what we need most isn’t creative and life hacks. We need more of God—a grander understanding of his character, attributes, and acts throughout history. David, surrounded by his enemies who were setting traps, in near despair, reminds himself who God is. The ending of the Psalm demonstrates the power of remembering God as a faithful refuge: “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the LORD!” Not only was David’s heart enlarged in trials by remembering God, but he instructs others to seek after God as well. What a stunning transformation! From cast down to counselor!
But how do we think about God when trouble comes? How did David remember that God is sovereign, that He’s good, that His steadfast love is set on His people? The answer is quite ordinary. David had treasures from God’s Word simmering in the crock pot long before the trials came. It’s that daily meditation on God’s Word that may seem cumbersome on a normal day, but which is crucial in the time of testing. You can’t prepare for a marathon a week before you run. Just the same, the Christian cannot expect to be equipped to face trials without the daily preparation of meditation on God’s Word.
Nowhere as in Psalm 119, do we see the relationship between mediation on God’s Word and perseverance. Here are some samples of David expressing the preserving effect of deep meditation:
v. 11: “I have stored up Your Word in my heart that I might not sin against You.”
v. 25: “My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to Your Word.”
v. 28: “My soul melts away from sorrow; strengthen me according to Your Word.”
v. 50: “This is my comfort in my affliction, that Your promise gives me life.”
v. 52: “When I think of Your rules from old, I take comfort, O LORD.”
There are many other clear statements from David, in this Psalm alone, demonstrating the powerful relationship between God’s Word and the perseverance of his people in hard circumstances. And so, the question ought to be put to us. Are we storing up in our minds and hearts God’s Word, which contains His character and promises? To put the question a different way—with God’s help, are we making ourselves ready for the day of trouble? Could we tell others in our sleep about the faithfulness of God in the gospel, His sovereignty over all things, His wisdom and watchfulness over His people, the many times in Scripture where He came to the aid of His surrounded people, and the many times He’s come to your aid?
The Right Resolutions
It’s always convicting to consider the resolutions of Jonathan Edwards, who began to pen them in 1722, at the tender age of 19. As with a great many things, including furniture, sermons, and commitments, older often seems stronger, and newer, cheaper. Past generations assumed an enchanted world with undeniable spiritual realities. A hundred years ago, not everyone believed, but when you read the old books, even ones that aren’t overtly Christian, they spoke of God in grander terms than we often do today. Their great books asked the ultimate questions, many of which to them turned on the providence of God. As we approach the New Year, here is a sampling of some of Edwards’ resolutions that from a biblical perspective, seem as strong as iron:
“Resolved, never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if it were the last hour of my life.”
“Resolved, to endeavor to obtain for myself as much happiness, in the other world, as I possibly can, with all the power; might, vigor, and vehemence, yea violence, I am capable of, or can bring myself to exert, in any way that can be thought of.”
“Resolved, never to speak evil of any, except I have some particular good call for it.”
“Resolved, after afflictions, to inquire, what I am the better for them, what good I have got by them, and what I might have got by them.”
“Resolved, to study the Scriptures so steadily, constantly and frequently, as that I may find, and plainly perceive myself to grow in the knowledge of the same.”
To my eye, we make a great many resolutions. We’re not lacking ambition. But our aims are too earthly. We aren’t Edwards, nor can we go back in time. But we can create a culture that reflects something of Edwards’ resolutions. Instead of riding the wave of 2025, just trying to stay on the board, we can treat our time as more precious, and our lives as more valuable by ordering them according to God’s Word, with an eye to the Day. And so, perhaps we adopt a few of Edwards’ own resolutions. Just google “Jonathan Edwards resolutions” and you’ll find all 70. Perhaps we come up with some of our own. But let us all ask God to help us, by His grace, to resolve to live lives that glorify Him. If we do, we’ll find that what tends most to His glory, is also what’s best for us and for those we love.
Happy almost New Year.
Christmas Lights
“ And he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” —2 Corinthians 5:15
Celebrating the birth of a Savior who gave himself up to death and judgment is a strange thing in a culture that co-opts Christmas for self-indulgence. Though Christians cherish the incarnation all year, Christmas is a unique way for us to display our other-centric worldview. We praise not ourselves, but God, and joyfully serve others, often at cost to ourselves.
When we ponder that the One who was laid in a manger was destined to bear our sins in His body on the cross, we begin to grasp what we, His followers, are to display in our own lives. In ways that are infinitesimal in comparison to the cross, we’re to give ourselves for the restoration and growth of others. One of Scripture’s main imperatives on how to do this is to speak, and also to sing the truth to one another. Tomorrow, we’ll gather for worship and we will do both. As God’s Word is unfolded and applied, the truth will be spoken. When we sing to one another during the worship service, the truth will be sung. And finally, when we stand outside, on the front steps of our building, we will sing the truth not only to each other, but to a world that desperately needs Christ.
Christmas lights are beautiful. But the most stunning of them all are God’s people, speaking and singing the truth about Jesus, the baby in the manger, who was born to suffer and to die for a world justly condemned. What a unique opportunity to be counter-cultural for Jesus. To display tomorrow in a very small way, what a life devoted not to ourselves, but to Him and others looks like.
Calm in Chaos
Psalm 46 presents to us something like two cities, an earthly one and a heavenly one. Consider the contrast between verses 3 and 4:
1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
God will help her when morning dawns.
In the opening verses, we have a picture of natural chaos, perhaps a tidal wave covering a mountain. There are few more fearful prospects than a lahar, a mudslide created when the lava from a volcano melts the ice caps of a mountain, sweeping away whole towns and villages below. We aren’t sure what the Psalmist is getting at by speaking of an underwater mountain. Perhaps the Psalm is best viewed as two cities. After all, it was written in a time when armies would lay siege to cities, surrounding them, and cutting them off from food and water until they were able to enter and conquer its weakened inhabitants. There’s a transition from the chaos to calmness in verse 4. The picture is of a happy city—a city with a river and flowing streams. In a siege, what would be more of a comfort than a water source, along its attending fish to feed those who are shut in? A city with a river isn’t easily besieged.
Perhaps the Psalmist wants us to view the beginning of this famous Psalm as picture of something like the city of man and the city of God. Of earth and of a new earth. One is marked by chaos, the other by calmness. We now live in the city of man—there’s no escaping the chaos. But it’s hope in that second city, where God is fully manifest, that gives us peace now. Do you see it? Those who trust in a God who is close in the chaos, can have peace now. Part of being calm in the chaos is both trusting in the nearness of a God we cannot see, and looking in hope to that future city, where we will see Him.
How can we “be still and know that I am God” (verse 10)? How do we know that God has come? One will complain that we’ve never seen him. But He has come. That’s the wonder of incarnation. We are reminded by our Christmas festivities that He will come again to bring us into that unshakable city, because he came into the chaos the first time. We can be still because Jesus took upon himself the chaos of our sin on the cross. Will He not then finish the job? Of course He will.
Christocentric Ambition
This afternoon, after Christmas choir practice ended, some of us reflected a bit on the Parable of the Talents, a story that puts ambition in its proper place. As we move among God’s people, we may notice that some folks seem to be under the impression that ambition is anti-Jesus—as though the Bible calls us to be the store brand. Unremarkable. In view of God’s Word, I understand why one might easily misinterpret ambition in this way. The Gospels are full of statements from Jesus about laying down ambition. In a world that resembles a race to the top, we are surprised and unnerved by the nature of the upside-down kingdom. Its slogan is The last shall be first and the first shall be last. But Jesus teaches us in Matthew 25 an important insight about ambition: The right kind of ambition is essential to a life that is pleasing to God.
The parable (in Matthew 25:14-30) is about a wealthy man who entrusts his resources to three of his servants before a long journey. He distributes the talents based on their abilities. To sum up the parable, the first two servants invest the talents, making a profit, which they present to the master upon his return. They are both commended and called faithful. But the third servant, instead of working to increase the master’s wealth, hid his talent in the ground. When the master returns, things do not go well. He’s strongly rebuked, and the language of the master points to judgment. The message of the parable is that the gifts, talents, and resources we possess are given to us as a stewardship from God. To make nothing of them—to lack ambition in our stewardship of what is His, is characteristic of those who will be judged forever. But the one who is ambitious for the master will be commended and invited into eternal rest. A foundational question begged by the parable is, “Do we think of our gifts, talents, and resources as being not merely given to us by God, but given for the purpose of making the Master’s name great?”
What does this mean for ambition? There are two kinds of ambition in the Scripture. There is selfish ambition, which James 3 describes as, “earthly, unspiritual, and demonic.” Such ambition is packed with pride and sinful hubris. As the greatest prophet before Jesus once said, “He must increase. I must decrease.” But there is a kind of ambition that marks those who are destined for the glorious rest. We can call it Christocentric ambition. That we would invest all that God has given to us—our gifts, talents, resources, and abilities—for the glory of Jesus. What does that mean for you? Do you have a voice? Ought you not to train it to speak and sing His praises? Do you have some extra resources? It is God’s—ought you not to give to the upbuilding of God’s church? Do you have time? Why not give your time to the brokenhearted, the lonely, the desperate, and those who need Jesus? Do you possess a particular talent in your field of employment? Should you not aim to be the best, the most devoted in your office, that in God’s providence, you would have a platform to give him the glory? What kind of ambition marks your life?
Black Friday and the Vets
The term Black Friday is believed to have originated in 1960s Philadelphia. Police officers in the city began calling the post-turkey holiday shopping blitz by this name to describe the utter chaos of the day, as people flooded in from all around, willing to brave the traffic and the mile-long lines to get the best deals. As a reward for their toil, many planned to catch the Army-Navy football game that Saturday.
We have come a long way since the 60s, with Black Friday shifting from brick and mortar to online shopping exploits. In this way, it’s become a less virtuous affair, and probably more dangerous. What do I mean? At least before, you physically came to the stores and interacted with people. Some folks would go shopping together and experience some form of community. But now we can stay holed up in our little boxes, isolated from others, and get all the stuff delivered. Shopping alone is no crime, of course. But at least the Black Fridays of the past had the redeeming quality of shared joy. My other conclusion that modern Black Friday is dangerous in a way that wasn’t so much before is that all you have to do is click. It’s much easier to blow through money on Amazon than if you have to stand in a line at Macy’s for an hour before you see the inside of the store.
Speaking of Macy’s, the famous one in Boston, the one at Downtown Crossing isn’t far from the New England Center and Home for Veterans. Do you want to know what those folks do on Black Friday? The same as every other day. When I speak to the vets, many of whom live at 17 Court Street, it’s clear that most of them are barely hanging on financially. They aren’t conned into buying stuff at a discount because they aren’t in the market. This blog post isn’t a call not to buy Christmas presents or to pile high the guilt alongside the turkey or ham leftovers. It’s a call to consider others today and during this holiday season. To be generous, even sacrificial with what God has given to us.
It’s not the so called “social gospel” to care about the needs of others in our midst. And giving your resources to the poor won’t get you into heaven. But if we are God’s people, we will have compassion for the needy. As Paul wrote:
“So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.” —Gal. 6:10
And so, let this be a call to us all, when the deals pop up on the screen and we begin to reason with ourselves about whether we need the thing or just want it, that there are many who enjoy no wants, and barely get their needs. According to Paul, the first place to start is within the household of faith, the church. Try having intentional conversations with other members and attenders with the aim of seeing who you might bless during this Christmas season, materially or otherwise. A different way would be to talk to a vet. There certainly has been an uptick of them at our worship services, perhaps due to our engagement at the Center. Why not ask a vet about his or her needs? This Christmas season, let us “do good to everyone.”
Jeremiads and the Christian Life
What is a Jeremiad? It’s often defined as lengthy, mournful complaint. It’s rarely a compliment when aimed at a piece of writing. And yet, it’s a reference to one of history’s greatest authors and a piece of writing that has endured for thousands of years—Jeremiah and his Lamentations.
The prophet Jeremiah bore witness to the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C. The book opens by describing the city as a once virtuous woman, but through the Babylonian invasion and exile, she is exploited and unclean. Throughout the lament, there’s a refrain about guilt, that Judah had gotten themselves into this mess because of their grievous sin. There’s also a string of desperate pleas to God, as in 1:20, “Look, O LORD, for I am in distress; my stomach churns; my heart is wrung within me, because I have been very rebellious.” The darkest degradations marked Judah in that time, described in 2:20, where Jeremiah cries out to the Lord again:
“Look, O LORD, and see!
With whom have you dealt thus?
Should women eat the fruit of their womb,
the children of their tender care?
Should cpriest and prophet be killed
in the sanctuary of the Lord?”
It’s hard to imagine circumstances so dire that cannibalism marked God’s own people. But buried in so mournful a lament, a declaration of hope bursts into the light. These are some of the most hopeful words in Scripture:
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.” -Lam. 3:22-24
We might say that lamentations are on a spectrum of light and darkness. Somehow, Jeremiah remained hopeful, even as he mourned. He put words to his hope. But not every lament shows off hope with words. What do I mean? Have you ever heard of Heman the Ezrahite? He’s the author of Psalm 88—a lament with no daylight to speak of. It concludes with the line: “darkness has become my only companion.” The entire Psalm is a complaint from a man who keeps praying but hears nothing from God. Heman sings,
“But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?” -Ps. 88:13-14
That’s the refrain. Life is hard. God’s providence is harsh. And God’s not interested in helping. I wonder if that resonates with you? If it does, apparently you’re not alone. Psalm 88 might be the darkest lament in the Bible. Not in regard to the circumstances. We aren’t sure what Heman was going through. Nonetheless, it would be hard to imagine circumstances more devastating that Jerusalem in 586 B.C. But Psalm 88 might be the darkest lament in the Bible because there doesn’t seem to be a ray of hope in the words of it. There’s no claim that God is faithful, as in Lamentations.
It’s interesting and perhaps encouraging to observe that there’s a good way to complain and a bad way. The bad way in Scripture is referred to as grumbling. It’s a faithfulness, bitter, accusing kind of complaining. It’s the wilderness generation testing the Lord. But lament is complaining accompanied by faith. But what about Heman in Psalm 88? He doesn’t say anything resembling hope. There may be no hope in the words themselves, but here is where Heman’s faith is displayed: he keeps crying out to God. What’s most striking about the darkest lament in Scripture is that somebody can be so battered by life, but still raise their voice to God. Sometimes we’ve got no words of hope to speak of. But to complain to the Lord is to declare that there’s a God in heaven worthy of our trust. Sometimes, a complaint is all we’ve got. And on the testimony of Scripture, that is enough.
Father Time Remains Undefeated
Last night, a 58-year-old Mike Tyson, at one time dubbed the “baddest man on the planet” faced 27-year-old Jake Paul, who got famous posting videos on Vine and Youtube. Paul went pro in 2020, but as far as boxing is concerned, compared to Iron Mike, he seems like a cheap fabrication. A tattooed dilettante, more concerned with being seen than actually doing the work. But whatever you may think about these men and their contrasts, perhaps the most glaring one is that one of them is twice the other’s age. Tyson went pro in 1986. Jake Paul was born 1997. Tyson is old enough to be Paul’s father. Last night, the age gap seemed to make all the difference.
This bears reflection from a Christian worldview, particularly the intersection of age and glory. The Bible describes people as fading flowers. A mist, that appears for a little time and then vanishes. As the sand sinks into the lower half of the hour glass, we can’t deny that life is fleeting—we are fleeting. In response, the unbelieving are often desperate to cover up the signs of wear. Human growth hormone, botox, and lip fillers are all on the table. And yet, it’s all in vain. We are all headed to another world. And this really pokes holes in our plans to live forever in this world.
I’m not going to play psychologist, but perhaps the reason why so many men my age and older were giddy for Mike to win is because it would be a some kind of middle finger to aging and death. But last night demonstrated, in the words of Car Romero, “Father Time remains undefeated.” If there’s anything the Tyson/Paul fight displayed last night, it’s just that. But as Christians, we have a brighter hope than the blinding lights of AT&T Stadium. Despite the inevitable weakness of the body, for we who hope in Christ, we can rejoice in what looks like apparent defeat. Take it from the Apostle Paul, a minister of a superior glory.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” —2 Corinthians 4:16
This is how you age well. You understand that even as the body wastes away, your soul is being renewed. More than that, prepared to be in the presence of God! Do you believe that?
What is God up to?
The Union Club breakfast is a weekly gathering of Christian men from all around Boston that meets every Thursday morning at 7:30a by invite over on Park Street. $15 bucks for a pretty fancy breakfast and a seat at round tables to make friends and hear a short talk, usually from God’s Word. I was put on to it years ago and have made a few appearances through the years, though no one could accuse me of being a regular. The man standing at the lectern this past Thursday informed us that he wouldn’t be giving a talk, but that in light of the election, he wanted the 100 or so men in the room to respond to two questions: What is God up to? And how do we respond?
I have to say, I take issue with the first question. I’ve never felt comfortable in the role of the prophet. For the most part, tracing the times—making predictions about what God is doing based on circumstances is a fools’ errand. You remember Harold Camping, predicting the end of the world with a date to show for it? Or Pat Robertson blaming hurricane Katrina on Mardis Gras. What a train wreck!
I nibbled on my egg and bacon quiche while men stood up, offering their own musings on God’s hand in the election. To be clear, the overwhelming majority of comments were positive. There was an optimism among the men, particularly regarding what they hope will be a restraining of the evils of abortion, the denial of God’s design of men and women, the transgender madness, and a number of other issues that will likely now be put in check for a time. But it was also clear that not everyone in the room was very happy about the outcome. One could gather this from the not so subtle suggestion that God is disciplining, or perhaps even judging our nation by giving us the leaders we deserve.
I suppose what I appreciated most was some of the answers to the second question. How are we to respond? John Ames stood up—yes, the John Ames that leads SEND Relief on our fifth floor. We came to the breakfast together. He expressed a concern for unity among churches and said something to the effect that whatever happens in politics, it doesn’t really change what God has called us as Christians to do every day. We are to pursue truth, make disciples, and love our neighbors. I appreciated that. There are doubtless those in churches who are utterly thrilled about how Tuesday night went down. And yet, there are others are discouraged and deeply concerned for the future. Wherever you may land on this spectrum, what John said is true. We’re to speak the truth to one another, even truths that might offend—but as the Apostle Paul commanded the church at Ephesus, we must “speak the truth in love.” A church divided by political strife isn’t anything like Jesus.
I don’t know what the Lord is going to do in the next four years. I have to admit, I’m quite optimistic because I know that God is in control. I want to believe that many of the evils that have seemed to get a foothold in our culture will be beaten back. However, as God’s people have always lusted after earthly security, I think those who find comfort in the red wave should be warned. There is only one Savior. His name is Jesus. May God give us all the grace in these times to gather around Him who has united us by His precious blood.
TGC Article About God’s Hand at Tremont Temple
Friends,
A writer from The Gospel Coalition reached out to three New England churches in the Boston area to chronicle what God has been doing in our midst. Sarah, the author, did quite a bit of research on our history, interviewed a number of our members, and wrote a beautiful piece about how God has provided for our church in recent years. I pray that you enjoy reading it, as you are very much a part of it! May the Lord continue to bless TTBC for decades to come!
Here is the link to the article:
https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/rescue-beautiful-church
Boast in Jesus
“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins” - Ephesians 2:1
I appreciated Bryant Wright’s sermon this past Sunday on John 3:1-16 highlighting the importance of the New Birth. But something worthy of reflecting on for an eternity is how does it happen? In this world, those in desperate need of a heart transplant put themselves on a list. Being sick, they initiate as an act of survival. But when it comes to regeneration—a theological word indicating the heart-transformation that takes place at conversion, the same cannot be said. The Apostle Paul tells the Ephesians that unbelievers are dead. Due to our sin and guilt, there’s no spiritual life in any of us. Not only are we lifeless—but like a dead man, we have no ability to seek life. There’s no waitlist for a spiritual heart. Unless the Holy Spirit gives us a new heart, ours remains hard and impenetrable as granite. When it comes to salvation in Jesus, God makes the first move.
There’s a lot of debate over what’s called the ordo salutis, Latin for “order of salvation.” But it seems undeniable in Scripture that regengeration precedes faith and repentance. The dead sinner must first be awakened by God and the Gospel before he or she can put faith in Jesus. But is it worth nitpicking over which of these comes first? After all, conversion happens in a moment. I would argue that this seemly fine distinction is of great import. Why? Because who makes the first move says a lot about who we are and who God is. The Apostle Paul did not say to the Ephesians, “And you were weak in your trespasses and sins.” This would allow for the idea of us seeking God first—albeit in frailty. But Paul says we are “dead.” It follows that our destiny hangs completely on God showing mercy. As Paul says in Romans 2:10-11: “None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God.” Our culture tends towards an optimism about man, but the Bible teaches us that sin touches every part of us, and without God’s intervention, we’re without hope in the world.
This isn’t merely Pauline doctrine. It’s the doctrine of the Apostles, and of God, who is jealous for us to know that He came and sought us. The Apostle Peter opened his first letter with it: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” The Apostle John wrote, “We love because he first loved us.” Indeed, Jesus Himself couldn’t be clearer than this: “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.” Friends, there’s no room for boasting in ourselves when God is the initiator. If the Spirit of Christ didn’t arrest us on the highway to hell, we would be barreling towards an eternity under God’s just judgment. By grace alone, we were born again. We were made alive. Boast in Jesus, and no one else.
Sinwar and the Heart
“Keep your heart with all vigilance,
for from it flow the springs of life.” - Proverbs 4:23
I was struck today when I came across a viral video of Yahya Sinwar, the de-facto leader of Hamas, in the last moments of his life. He is seen sitting in a chair in a bombed out room, covered in dust. Though alive, there were pieces of him missing and in a final act of defiance, he hurled a scrap of rubble at the drone that was videoing his final moments. I am an old Millennial, about to hit 41 this November. My first exposure to shocking media was as a senior in high school when I came across a video of the execution of journalist Daniel Pearl in Karachi, Pakistan, months after the Towers were hit. I am not a child of the internet age, but grew up into it. Maybe that’s why it’s often shocking to me the things we can see online.
There can be within us a macabre tug towards images of violence and death. A morbid curiosity that we know isn’t rooted in the same soil as the fruit of the Spirit. Indeed, I believe there are significant parallels between a desire to watch violence and death and the desire to watch pornography. From the same sinful nature comes a delight in the destruction of the body and its degradation through illicit sex. And so, the thesis of this very short reflection is that viewing violent media can be as sinful and voyeuristic as pornography and ought to be avoided with as much resolve.
There will be no easy escape, friends. Toxic media, whether real or fiction, has flooded the mainstream. Access seems only to be widening. But we must understand what’s at stake. The conscience, under constant assault, will eventually give way to a debased mind. Once the conscience is seared and calloused by violent images, we will grow numb to them. We will no longer draw back from them. We might even approve of them. Eventually delight in them. But it is the one who look away from what God hates, and who turns to Him who will persevere to the end.
I love what David wrote in Psalm 119:37: “Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.” The Psalm is about God’s Word. It’s not enough to look away from the mind-numbing violence that’s on tap all around us. We must look to the Word of God to fill us with every good thing. Friend, is there any delight within you when scenes of violence or death come up on your screen or your feed? Turn your eyes away! We’re not made to absorb so much darkness. We are children of light. May God give us the grace of restraint, that we would turn our eyes away from violence and scenes of death, that our hearts may be kept. May we instead know God and His ways.
Wonder
“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork.” - Psalm 19:1
A solar flare erupted earlier this week, causing the Northern Lights to be visible in Boston and throughout New England. With the naked eye, it was difficult to register. You could barely see the dark read, cloud-like shapes—almost indistinguishable against the black backdrop of space. But if you were to pull out your phone and take a few snaps, you gasped as stunning pinks and greens exploded on your screen. Cameras are better at collecting light than our eyes.
Adriana and I stepped out of the house after we put the kids down to sleep and we started snapping photos. It was so stunning that I jumped in the car and drove to the beach to see if I could capture something special there. The above shot was one of my favorites. People were gathered on the shore like busy bees, comparing their captures with glee. It was a surreal cosmic and social experience. But did you know that the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora, is the inspiration for the scientific name of the Northern Lights, aurora borealis? The irony is rich. Has anyone ever passed off someone else’s art as their own? I suspect if there was an Aurora, she wouldn’t have the gall to claim the Northern Lights. That’s God’s handiwork. But people in their sin say very stupid things.
The people that I spoke to on the beach were giddy with excitement over seeing God’s fine art, though they didn’t know the Artist. Sometimes we say that we don’t know how to start a conversation about God, but do we not see in moments like these that simply responding with praise is the most natural thing in the world to do? To say to those who look up at the sky in wonder, or at the cascading falls, or up at those stunning peaks, “If these are so amazing, what would it be like to look upon the one who made them?” The most dazzling sights are paltry reflections of the greatness and beauty of God. Let’s start talking like we believe it. The heavens declare the glory of God.
Why don’t we?
Potent Faith
“And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” —Luke 17:6
Some deploy verses like these to suggest Christianity more fiction than fact. But bending metaphysics aren’t a problem for a people whose hope is entirely wrapped up in a Man who stood up in a grave. Yet, Jesus’ reference to a mulberry tree, uprooted by faith and cast into the sea—isn’t a laws of physics-breaking act, though there are many in Scripture. How do we know? Whenever Jesus talks about faith moving mountains or uprooting trees, the context is often the issues of everyday life. In Luke 17, right before Jesus mentions the mustard seed and Mulberry tree, he’s calling the disciples to do something that would seem at times, impossible. They were to pay close attention to their lives, confront others in their sin, and forgive repentant sinners over and over again—even those who had sinned against them. The metaphor of a tree being uprooted and thrown into the sea is way of saying that genuine faith is so potent that it enables us to obey the most challenging of God’s commands. By the way, this isn’t a one-off. Similarly, in Mark 11, Jesus talks about faith moving mountains into the sea before calling them to forgive one another.
Another example of this kind of faith talk is in Matthew 17:20, where Jesus says, “For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” What is the context, here? Jesus heals a demon-possessed boy, and the disciples are perplexed about why they weren’t able to cast it out. Maybe not the best example of an everyday event in the lives of Christians. But the point is that a trace of genuine faith is so potent that Satan and the demons cannot withstand those who possess it. It’s a call to confidence, not in ourselves, but in Jesus—the One in whom we believe, and who by His Spirit gives us the power to overcome.
As you work through the Gospels, be heartened by verses like these. By faith, we can forgive others, kill sin, reject the lies of Satan, rejoice in suffering, love our enemies, share the gospel boldly, and so much more. It’s not about how much faith you have. It’s that you have genuine faith! Like the tides, our faith rises and falls. But when it comes to faith, what matters is that we have it. And because we have it, we can do things that without Jesus are impossible.
Hold Fast
“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.” - Hebrews 10:23
Last Friday evening, I took this blog in a personal direction by sharing about a prominent preacher in Reformed Evangelicalism—a man who had influenced me to pursue the ministry—a man who recently made shipwreck of his own ministry, and in some respects, his life. That news came at a strange time, as my own mentor, Mark Dever, celebrates 30 years as the Senior Pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church this week. At moments, I have been struck by the contrast between these two men.
There is in my own preaching, and it can be said of our other pastors’, an emphasis on God’s sovereignty. This is no hobby horse, as the Scripture is clear that the Lord “works all things to the counsel of His will.” Jesus, the captain of our salvation is the author and finisher of our faith. Jonah, covered in slime in the belly of the fish, stuck his prayer like an Olympic gymnast, crying out, “Salvation belongs to the Lord” before being spit out of its mouth. We don’t save us, God does. But notice that the testimony of Scripture, as part of God’s sovereign grace, calls us, in the words of the mystery author of Hebrews, to “Hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering.” Back in the early chapters, he warns us not to drift from so great a salvation. This human element and God’s sovereignty aren’t mutually exclusive. Because even beneath the holding fast that we’re being called to, is the everlasting arms. Only by grace do we hold fast. And yet, we must hold.
One of the things that’s clear to me from working and living closely with Mark when I served as his assistant at Capitol Hill Baptist Church, and having known him well over a decade, is that he has done the same, ordinary things throughout his entire ministry. Every day, he wakes up, opens his Bible and prays—he prays the passage, for himself, for his family, and for his church family. Every single day. Now, this seems like a boring detail—a footnote of a Christian life. But nothing could be further from the truth. This is the kind of thing that if you do it consistently, shapes your entire life. It’s the ordinary means of grace, the so-thought “boring stuff” that is the engine of the persevering life.
I don’t know what Steve Lawson’s prayer life looked like. I don’t know how he engaged the text of Scripture. I don’t care to guess. But I know a man who begins his day engaging with God. And his ministry is exceedingly fruitful and continues to be. I have to believe that, in part, its due to the thing he’ll do about 8 hours form now. He’ll wake up, open God’s Word, meditate on it deeply, and pray for himself and for those under his care. This isn’t just for big name pastors. It’s for each of us, for the Lord calls us all to be fruitful in His vineyard. This is a big part of what “hold fast” means. Of course, the Spirit of God is over, under, behind, and before all of it. Nonetheless, we must hold. Beloved, how are you doing with holding? Ask Him who is faithful to help you.
“For the Lord is good and faithful—He will keep us day and night…we can always run to Jesus, Jesus strong and kind.”
Keep Watch
“Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.” — 1 Timothy 4:16
One of my heroes in the faith went public about an affair yesterday. A screenshot of a note on his church’s website went viral, the news ripping through social media like a California wildfire. I’m not usually one to name names, but it doesn’t seem like much of a tell at this point. Steven J. Lawson was a bright light in reformed circles from before the time I heard his preaching. In the aughts, when I first heard of him, he was pastoring Christ Fellowship Baptist Church in Mobile, AL, and before that, he pastored in Arkansas. Lawson’s preaching reflected how Martyn-Lloyd Jones’ described preaching: logic on fire. Up until that point in my young Christian life, there were few, if any, more faithful to the text, and nobody I’d ever heard with a more passionate delivery.
I was introduced to him in 2008 at Grace Community Church in LA where he preached one of the keynote sermons at the Shepherd’s Conference. The sermon was titled, “The Preacher’s Invincible Weapon.” I had never heard preaching like that. After coming back home, I began listening to his recorded sermons on the Book of Hebrews. I binged half of the sermons on the Christ Fellowship website—at least a hundred sermons, each of which stoked my desires to pastor and preach God’s Word.
I suppose there’s no one whose preaching ministry, except maybe that of John MacArthur and after him, Mark Dever, who has influenced my own preaching more than Lawson. There was also that time when at the Expositor’s Conference at Christ Fellowship—a small, intimate gathering of aspiring pastors and preachers in Mobile, I asked him for advice at an important turning point in my life. While pondering the transition from policing to ministry, he strongly encouraged me to pursue holiness and press on in knowing my Bible. After I mentioned that I was engaged to a woman in my home church who preferred me not to pursue ministry with the passion and commitment that was driving me to consider seminary training out of state, he told me to pursue the training, and if she was the right one for me, it would work out. As it turns out, I ended up breaking off the engagement and heading to Louisville, KY to attend Southern Seminary in no small part because of Lawson’s advice. Needless to say, early on, he was a huge inspiration to me.
Yet, here we are, almost 20 years later—he’s 73, and in what should be the crowning years of his ministry, he confesses to a relationship with a woman outside of his 40 year marriage. It doesn’t seem real. Many are shell-shocked. For some, it will be an excuse to seethe with cynicism and harden their hearts against Christ and the church. Who knows what it means for Lawson? Only God knows.
This is something of what Paul had in view in writing to his own mentee in the ministry, Timothy. He urges him to keep a close watch over his life and teaching. Another way to put it—never lose sight of your devotion and doctrine. Because if you fail to prune them as one cultivates a vine—they will grow wild. Your life, unguarded by prayer, exposed by neglect of the Word, or the absence of Christian fellowship will easily give way to temptation. Likewise, teaching that’s untethered to orthodoxy yields not only false doctrine, but makes room for scandalous sin. And so, keep watch on your devotion and doctrine as though your life depends on it—because it does. But further, so do the lives of the people who listen to you. Because when Christian leaders fall, many are made to stumble. J.C. Ryle offers insight into how things like this happen:
“We may be very sure that men fall in private long before they fall in public. They are backsliders on their knees long before they backslide openly in the eyes of the world. Like Peter, they first disregard the Lord’s warning to watch and pray; and then, like Peter, their strength is gone, and in the hour of temptation, they deny their Lord. The world takes notice of their fall, and scoffs loudly. But the world knows nothing of the real reason.”
Pray for Lawson, his wife, his grown children, and their children. Pray for the woman and her family. Pray for the church who just lost a pastor and for the thousands of people he influenced, that their hearts will not grow cold on account of his sin. Pray for true repentance and restoration. Pray that somehow, some good fruit that comes from this. Perhaps the fruit of vigilance. May we not be shocked when mere men fall—may our hope always be in Christ. And may we keep watch, as Ryle suggests, when nobody but God is watching.
Lord Willing
On Zoom this morning with a dear friend and a member of our church, he asked me about my sabbatical. I outlined some of my day trips with the family, highlights from the time, and especially the blessing it was to spend extra time with Adriana and the kids. At one point, we talked about the next sabbatical, and I said, “If I’m still the pastor of Tremont in 7 years, I’ll be ancient. I’ll be 47 years old—all my hair grey.” He was taken aback, commenting that he never thought about me not being the pastor at TTBC. And then I made it clear that there’s no where else I ‘d rather serve Jesus, and that I fully intend on standing in the pulpit at the Temple till my legs don’t work. But I explained, quoting James, that we all need to hold onto our plans a bit more loosely. We need to be the kind of people who say, “Lord willing.”
‘Lord willing’ is what Peter should have said to Jesus before denying him. Later on, along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus in resurrection glory finds Peter and the boys suited up for fishing—he was dressed for his former vocation. But Jesus calls him again to be a fisher of men, and he ends up preaching so powerfully at Pentecost, that the foundation of the church is laid. What Peter seems to lack so often early on—perhaps the lesson he delivers to us most powerfully by his life and through his lessons shared in his letters, is the need for humility. To recognize that our lives are not our own. That we are not guaranteed a life of ease—that more likely than not, we walk through some valleys that are hard to mention without it getting caught in our throat. That at times we will fail to honor Jesus. We will just fail in general. But in the end, we will know that strange elixir of tears and joy, because God actually used it all to make us holy.
‘Lord willing’ is a declaration amid the sons of this world that cries out, “I am not my own. God will have his way with me. And though I’m often fearful about the future, God can be trusted.” As a pastor in New England for about 12 years, I know more than a handful of men who I met as pastors who no longer serve as pastors. It’s not the thing that pastors are eager to talk about when we get together. This past Thursday, I ran into a pastor from Medford in a Starbucks and I looked him in the eye and asked him how he was doing. He shared that things were well, and that he’s 14 years into the church that he had planted. He mentioned that it’s something, pastoring that long in New England, and that so many others who were there when he began have departed. I told him how encouraging it was to hear a pastor say that that things are going so well, and I relayed the same from my end. I walked away from that conversation deeply grateful for the work of God in my friend, in me, in our church, in my family, and in so many others. And you know something, like Peter, we continue to plough for the Lord not because we’re stronger, more gritty, more wise, or more patient. We get to serve the Lord in this special way because the Lord wills it. And that’s it. And that’s all.
And so, this is a meandering invitation to a life marked by “Lord willings.” If you say it enough, you will annoy your friends. Maybe your husband will look at your funny. Saying that out loud may not make you popular in your building in the Seaport. But knowing and living, “Lord willing” is really the best life there is. It’s at least a life of leaning towards trusting God with our future. And it’s a far better option than trusting ourselves.