In a similar vein of thought to quote posted yesterday from James K. A. Smith’s Imagining the Kingdom, Donald S. Whitney, reflecting on the narratives of the blind beggar, Bartimaeus, and tax collector, Zacchaeus, from Luke 18 and 19, encourages his readers to:

Think of the Spiritual Disciplines as spiritual exercises. . . .

There are two Bible stories that illustrate another way of thinking of the role of Spiritual Disciplines. Luke 18:35-43 tells the story of a blind beggar named Bartimaeus and his encounter with Jesus. . . . The second Bible story is in the very next paragraph of Scripture, Luke 19:1-10. It’s the famous account of the conversion of the tax collector, Zacchaeus. . . .

Think of the Spiritual Disciplines as ways we can place ourselves in the path of God’s grace and seek Him much as Bartimaeus and Zacchaeus placed themselves in Jesus’ path and sought Him (Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, 18-19).

For the sanctification of the Christian it cuts both way: God marshals our embodiment (as James K. A. Smith notes) for our sanctification, and we marshal our own embodiment (as  Donald S. Whitney notes) for our sanctification. Justification, however, is a different matter. Justification is a monergistic work of God.

Read this hilarious quote at William B. Evan’s personal blog and just had to share it.

“Look, if I wanted a pretentious and incomprehensibly abstract theology with an impeccable record of emptying churches, I’d convert to Barthianism, wouldn’t I?” (Carl Trueman)

The organic unity of church and society depend, at least in part, upon our perception of the whole and its relation to the parts. To the degree that we regard ourselves primarily as individuals, or even groups (placing the part before the whole), our ecclesiastical and political structures will never rise above the level of a voluntary association. Here, unity and organic wholeness are nothing more than nominalistic abstractions. Only the individual is real and enduring. The organization is, by comparison, an arbitrary convention. This inherently unstable structure will, in the end, give way to self-interest, chaos, and secession.

 Historically, however, the tendency toward democracy, voluntarism, and decentralization in our society is a legitimate reaction against top-heavy organic structures (political and ecclesiastical) that have become too powerful and bureaucratic. It is essential, therefore, that the rights and freedoms of the individual be preserved while, at the same time, avoiding the error of radical individualism and balkanization. In [John W.] Nevin’s view such a balance cannot be achieved simply by legislation, reorganization, or even education — though these are necessary. Rather, these external arrangements must be the spontaneous outgrowth of a deeper sentiment which originates not in politics or business, but in the transforming and leavening power of religion in society. 

Unity and freedom begin with the love of God. Not, however, by way of natural religion or even individual Christianity (these are dim and fragmentary at best), but through the mediatorial life of Christ supernaturally present in the church and its ministry. “The soul,” says [John W.] Nevin, “takes its quality and complexion always from the objects with which it is accustomed most intimately and habitually to converse.” Participation in this spiritual world of powers leads to a kind of apotheosis [the climax of a development], so that by beholding the glory of Christ the inner person is changed into His likeness. “This spiritual vision imparts a heavenly complexion to his soul, answerable to its own object.” In the end, it is only as we are taken up into the transcendental reality of this Trinitarian communion, through the ministry of the word and sacrament, that we come to realize the archetype of organic unity and individual freedom. This realization is the only passage that leads finally from “all” to the “whole” (William DiPuccio, The Interior Sense of Scripture: The Sacred Hermeneutic of John W. Nevin, 193-194).

In Desiring the Kingdom and Imagining the Kingdom, James K. A. Smith argues that Christians need to pay special attention to liturgies because they shape what we love, which is incredibly important because “we are what we love.” In the latter work, Smith says, “The [Holy] Spirit marshals our embodiment in order to rehabituate us to the kingdom of God. The material practices of Christian worship are not exercises in spiritual self-management but rather the creational means that our gracious God deigns to inhabit for our sanctification” (15).

“We gather each Lord’s Day not merely out of habit, social custom, or felt needs but because God has chosen this weekly festival as a foretaste of the everlasting Sabbath day that will be enjoyed fully at the marriage supper of the Lamb. God has called us out of the world and into his marvelous: That is why we gather” (Michael Horton, A Better Way: Rediscovering the Drama of God-Centered Worship, 24).

Debates on Natural Law seem to be the rage these days: David Bentley Hart set off a chain reaction after sharing his thoughts on Natural Law at First Things . . . replies on the Internets came from far and near, e.g.,  Edward Feser, Alan Jacobs, Peter Leithart, Peter Escalante . . . and Hart even circled back around to share his additional thoughts.

So, here is my contribution to the Natural Law noise on the Internets: it is an extended excerpt from Ray Sutton’s magnificent That You May Prosper: Dominion by Covenant:

Let us not be misled: natural law theory rests on a self-conscious belief in the possibility of judicial neutrality. Civil law must be neutral-ethically, politically, and religiously. Civil law must permit equal time for Satan. There are Christians who believe in neutrality; they send their children to public schools that rest legally on a doctrine of educational neutrality. There are also Christians who think abortion should be legal. This belief rests on the belief that killing a baby and not killing a baby are morally equivalent acts; God is neutral regarding the killing of babies. That such Christians should also adopt a theory of judicial and political neutrality is understandable. But what is not easily understandable is that Christians who recognize the absurdity of the myth of neutrality in education and abortion cling to just this doctrine in the area of civil law and politics. This is a form of what Rushdoony calls intellectual schizophrenia. 

It is only the Christian who has the law of God itself written in his heart, what the author of Hebrews calls a new covenant- the internalization of the old covenant (Heb. 8:7-13). For a Christian to appeal to a hypothetical universally shared reason with fallen humanity is to argue that the Fall of man did not radically affect man’s mind, including his logic. It is to argue that this unaffected common logic can overcome the effects of sin. Anyone who believes this needs to read the works of Cornelius Van Til and R. J. Rushdoony. 

The appeal to natural law theory is pagan to the core. It is in some cases a self-conscious revival of pagan Greek philosophy. Natural law theory is totally opposed to God’s law. Sadly, we find throughout Western history that compromised though well-intentioned Christian philosophers have appealed to this Stoic concept of natural law in support of some “neutral” system of social and political order. Thomas Aquinas is the most famous of these scholars, but the same mistake is common today. Roger Williams appealed to natural law as the basis of the creation of a supposedly religiously neutral civil government in the 1630s in New England. This is the appeal of just about every Christian who refuses to accept Biblical law as the legal foundation of political order and civil righteousness. The only alternative to “one law” – whether “natural” or Biblical- is judicial pluralism, a constant shifting from principle to principle, the rule of expediency. It is the political theory of polytheism (184-185).

John Piper’s thoughtful reflection on Justification and prodigal children: the former shall always be a refuge of hope for the parents of the latter.

“. . . I mentioned in the first sentence of this chapter, “a personal concern for wayward children.” I do not believe that even perfect parenting could prevent all wilderness wanderings of our children. Mainly because of what God said in Isaiah 1:2: “Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth; for the Lord has spoken: ‘Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me'” (ESV). But how do you survive and press on when a child has left the fold of God? What truth keeps you on your face in hope-full prayers and on your way to minister to others with needs as great as your own? No truth other than “the justification of the ungodly” gives as much hope for parents of a prodigal. Not only because our son or daughter may yet awaken to the hope that Christ is willing to be his or her righteousness — no matter what he or she has done — but also because the viperous guilt of failed parenting is defanged by the justification of the ungodly. Dad and Mom find a way to press on because their perfection is [CCS, emphasis added] Christ (Counted Righteous in Christ, 31).

The late venerable and godly Dr. Archibald Alexander, of Princeton, United States, had been a preacher of Christ for sixty years, and a professor of divinity for forty. He died on 22nd of October, 1851. On his death-bed, he was heard to say to a friend, “All my theology is reduced to this narrow compass — Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners” (Ed. David Otis Fuller, Spurgeon’s Sermon Illustrations, 21).

Logos (the Bible software company) recently posted an article on Cornelius Van Til and Karl Barth; the article commemorates their birthdays and highlights the theological conflict that existed between the two of them. Also, there are coupon codes for Van Til’s and Barth’s works.

The following is an excerpt from the short article:

It remains an open question whether the evangelicalism of Van Til and Barth have room for friendship or will remain foes, especially within the various branches of the Reformed tradition within the United States. Despite this, we can still be diligent in our efforts to understand the thinking of each man on his own terms by going back to the sources. Finally, we should be encouraged by Barth’s gesture to Van Til in 1962. Previously, Barth had been rude toward Van Til. However, he took a step towards reconciliation when he was visiting Princeton to give a series of lectures. Van Til used the opportunity to write to Barth: “When you came to Princeton I called up the Seminary and asked whether I could see you but was discouraged from doing so. When I looked for an opportunity to shake hands with you after your Princeton lectures [the Warfield lectures] you were hurried away. When at last I did come near to you in the hallway and somebody called your attention to my presence and you graciously shook hands with me, saying: ‘You said some bad things about me but I forgive you, I forgive you,’ I was too overwhelmed to reply.”

Although God will grant Christlikeness to us when Jesus returns, until then He intends for us to grow toward that Christlikeness. We aren’t merely to wait for holiness, we’re to pursue it. “Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy,” we’re commanded in Hebrews 12:14, for “without holiness no one will see the Lord.”

Which leads us to ask what every Christian should ask, “How then shall we pursue holiness? How can we be like Jesus Christ, the Son of God?”

We find a clear answer in 1 Timothy 4:7: “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness” (Donald Whitney, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, 16).