The Sands of Time are Sinking

Here are the lyrics to The Sands of Time are Sinking.

The Sands Of Time Are Sinking

1. The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of Heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for—the fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

2. The King there in His beauty, without a veil is seen:
It were a well spent journey, though seven deaths lay between:
The Lamb with His fair army, doth on Mount Zion stand,
And glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

3. O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!
The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:
There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

4. With mercy and with judgment my web of time He wove,
And aye, the dews of sorrow were lustered with His love;
I’ll bless the hand that guided, I’ll bless the heart that planned
When throned where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

5. O I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved’s mine!
He brings a poor vile sinner into His “house of wine.”
I stand upon His merit—I know no other stand,
Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

6. The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;
I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.
Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.

Links Worth a Look

One day the fog will lift. Thanks, Ben!

A new post on the making of Christ Formed in You.

Some great photographs of really cute kids that I happen to be related to.

A new book that I'm looking forward to reading.

Keller's latest blog post.

Connie Dever's version of The Sands of Time are Sinking. This was very moving to me - expect to sing it in church soon.

Wild Things

I really like Russell Moore's comments on the film Where the Wild Things Are. Here they are in full:

This past Saturday I took my three oldest sons to see the movie Where the Wild Things Are. Some Christians are all exercised about the fact that the movie might be too frightening for children. They’re wrong. The movie is not a great one, but that’s not the reason why. As a matter of fact, Where the Wild Things Are fails because it’s not scary enough for your kids.

And there’s something there Chrisians can learn about children, horror, and the gospel.

From the time my sons were babies I’ve read to them the Maurice Sendack classic picture book. They love it, and so do I. They’d sit attentively through Goodnight Moon, but they’d squeal “Let the wild rumpus start!” whenever we’d journey with Max to the place of the wild things.

Children, it turns out, aren’t as naive about evil as we assume they are. Children of every culture, and in every place, seem to have a built-in craving for monsters and dragons and “wild things.” The Maurice Sendak book appeals to kids because it tells them something about what they intuitively know is true. The world around them is scary. There’s a wildness out there. The Sendak book shows the terror of a little boy who is frightened by his own lack of self-control, and who conquers it through self-control, by becoming king of all the wild things.

The Sendak book, with its muted words but fantastic drawings, achieves this sense of wonder and wildness. The movie doesn’t. That’s because the movie tames the wild things too much. It’s not that they’re too scary for children. It’s that they’re not believable as scary. The dialogue sounds like it was lifted from an old episode of Thirtysomething, as the beasts talk through their psychodramas and jealousies and interpersonal offenses with one another. Kids will be entertained because the special effects are good. But they won’t “get it” deep inside like they do the book.

I’m amazed though by the way some Christians react to things like this. They furrow their brow because the Max character screams at this mother, and bites her, even though this is hardly glorified in the movie. They wag their heads at how “dark” the idea of this wild world is. Of course it is “dark.” The universe is dark; that’s why we need the Light of Galilee.

Where the Wild Things Are isn’t going to be a classic movie the way it is a classic book. But the Christian discomfort with wildness will be with us for a while. And it’s the reason too many of our children find Maurice Sendak more realistic than Sunday school.

Too many of our Bible study curricula for children declaw the Bible, excising all the snakes and dragons and wildness. We reduce the Bible to a set of ethical guidelines and a text on how gentle and kind Jesus is. The problem is, our kids know there are monsters out there. God put that awareness in them. They’re looking for a sheep-herding dragon-slayer, the One who can put all the wild things under His feet.

Your kids might be bored by the Wild Things movie. They won’t be bored by the Wild Things book. It’s their story, and mine. But read them the story of Max and his monsters, and then show them the Story they were knit together to love.

And let the wild rumpus start.

What Counts as Missional Living?

Here are some helpful, practical, and balanced thoughts from Bob Thune over at Coram Deo on what "counts" as missional living:

When we first set out to plant a missional church, we had some lively debates over what exactly it meant to live missionally. Does it mean moving into a disadvantaged neighborhood and working for renewal? Does it mean living in the same zip code so we can truly be a missional community? Does it mean deepening already-existing relationships with co-workers? Does it mean deliberately changing my patterns of life to bring me into contact with non-Christians “on their turf” (bars, music shows, nightclubs, etc)? Our conversations about these matters seemed easily to slide toward people moralizing their preferences and looking down on others who didn’t think like them. (Which is one reason why we consistently need to be reminded of the gospel!)

Tim Keller helps to answer this question by observing that the standard pattern of evangelism in the New Testament centered around the oikos (Greek for household). But the word household in NT times was much broader than we tend to think of it. “In the Bible, evangelism does not happen primarily through programs… it happens naturally through one’s oikos, or household… A household was not just your family, but… a fairly tight-knit, close set of colleagues, kin, friends, neighbors. It was understood that when you became a Christian, you had been called to be a steward, evangelistically speaking, of your oikos.”*

In our day, Keller suggests that the biblical term oikos applies to at least five networks: your kinship network (family and relatives), your neighborhood (those who live near you geographically), your colleagues (co-workers or co-students), your affinity network (people with a shared special interest), and your friends (those from the other 4 networks whom you develop a close relationship with). The relative strength or weakness of these five networks varies based on your context.

What it means to live missionally, then, is to have authentic friendship with people in these networks. That’s it. If Jesus is truly important to you, and if you have real friendships with people, then Jesus is going to come up sooner or later in the natural course of sharing life. You shouldn’t have to artificially shoehorn Jesus into every conversation, nor should you feel the need to hide or downplay your affection for him. Those in your oikos will get to know Jesus as they get to know you.

So – is missional living primarily about your neighborhood, your co-workers, your hunting buddies, or your non-Christian family members? The answer is: yes.

[*Quoted from "Evangelism and the Steward Leader," mp3 audio from Redeemer Presbyterian Church.]

(HT: Take Your Vitamin Z)

I Boast No More

I Boast No More

1. No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son

Chorus: No more my God,
No more my God,
No more my God,
I boast no more.

2. Now, for the loss I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.

Bridge: Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus’ sake;
O may my soul be found in Him,
And of His righteousness partake!

3. The best obedience of my hands
Dares not appear before Thy throne;
But faith can answer Thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done.

©2001 Same Old Dress Music (ASCAP).

Book Review: Counterfeit Gods by Timothy Keller

With great delight, yesterday I received in the mail Tim Keller's new book Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope that Matters. Here is my review.

Counterfeit Gods is a gripping exploration of the human heart and the ways we substitute false gods for the True God. Keller masterfully weaves together contemporary concerns, spiritual and psychological analysis, and biblical narrative to show us that while sex, romance, money, success, and power are good things in themselves, they make poor masters. When we give our trust, love, and service to these things, they destroy our lives.

But this foray into the labyrinths of the human heart is not only gripping, it is convicting. Keller exposes not only our surface idols, but our deep idols - our cravings for significance, comfort, security, and approval. These are the desires that drive us to give our affections to false lovers, place our trust in alternative saviors, and swear our allegiance to other lords. But Keller never leaves us without hope. This book is as liberating as it is convicting, as Keller confronts us again and again with the good news of God's love for sinners, displayed in the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Read more

Links Worth a Look

Several recent posts on how the process of editing my book is taking shape. All I will say at this point is that on one hand, it's a lot more work than I anticipated - but on the other, I'm very pleased with how Kevin is helping me improve the material.

Keller's new post on why preachers who only study and preach and don't spend time shepherding people are not very good preachers.

Andy Crouch's letter to a soon to be published author. Very apropos. (HT: Jim Belcher)

Justin Taylor on Piper's call to the ministry.

Not that many people will care, but for the few who will be interested, my library is now fully cataloged and tagged. There are over 2500 books! Now I'm just adding new ones and the occasional stray that hasn't made it to the list.

Calvin and Chrysostom on Confessing Our Sins

Does a believer have to confess his or her sins to another believer in order to obtain forgiveness? Most evangelicals would say no, but sometimes I wonder if our practices say otherwise. With the recent resurgence of interest in ancient practices of spirituality, confession to a priest is becoming more common, even among non-Catholics. Or consider accountability partnerships: while these can be healthy and helpful, there is also a subtle danger that a believer will feel bound in conscience to confess to his or her accountability partner.

Those who promote this kind of confession would quote James 5:16, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed,” and argue that it is psychologically important for us to disclose our sins to a human being – that something will be lacking in our experience (if not the fact) of forgiveness if we do not. They would further argue that our brothers and sisters in Christ can powerfully represent Christ to us – so that in confessing our sins and in hearing an assurance of pardon from them, the grace of Christ is audibly and visibly represented to us. For example, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (whose writings, incidentally, I love!) says,

“Christ became our Brother in the flesh in order that we might believe in Him. . . . Now our brother stands in Christ’s stead. Before him I need no longer dissemble. Before him alone in the whole world I dare to be the sinner I am. . . . Christ became our Brother to help us. Through him our brother has become Christ for us in the power and authority of the commission Christ has given to him. . . . When I go to my brother to confess, I am going to God.”[1]

While I understand the arguments, I’m concerned that this way of thinking quietly undermines the gospel. When I ran across these arguments in some recent reading, I started wondering how the Reformers handled the issue of auricular confession. So, I pulled Calvin’s Institutes off my shelf. And I’m glad I did.

Calvin argued strongly against the Catholic insistence that believers were duty-bound to confess their sins to a priest in order to receive the grace of forgiveness. He noted that “all priestly offices have been transferred to Christ and are fulfilled and completed in him,”[2] and passionately contended that confessing our sins to God alone is sufficient for obtaining forgiveness:

Since it is the Lord who forgives, forgets, and wipes out sins, let us confess our sins to him in order to obtain pardon. He is the physician; therefore, let us lay bare our wounds to him. It is he who is hurt and offended; from him let us seek peace. He is the discerner of hearts, the one cognizant of all thoughts [cf. Heb. 4:12]; let us hasten to pour out our hearts before him. He it is, finally, who calls sinners: let us not delay to come to God himself.[3]

Most moving to me were Calvin’s quotations attributed to Chrysostom[4]:

“Tell your sins,” he says, “that you may wipe them away. If you are embarrassed to tell anyone what sins you have committed, recite them daily to your own soul. I do not tell you to confess them to your fellow servant, who may upbraid you. Recite them to God who heals them. Confess your sins upon your bed that there your conscience may daily acknowledge its misdeeds.”

Again: “Now, morever, it is not necessary to confess in the presence of witnesses. Examine your sins in your own thought. Let this judgment be without witness: let God alone see you confessing.”

Again: “I do not lead you onto the stage before your fellow servants. I do not compel you to uncover your sins to men. Betake your conscience to God’s presence and lay it open before him. Show your wounds to the Lord, the most excellent physician, and seek remedy from him. Show them to him, who does not reproach but most gently heals.”

Again: “Surely, you should tell no man, lest he upbraid you; for you should confess nothing to a fellow servant, who may make it public. But show your wounds to the Lord, who takes care of you and is your kind physician.” Afterward he has God say, “I do not compel you to come on mid-stage before many witnesses. Tell your sin privately to me only that I may heal your sore.”[5]

Calvin did agree that James 4:16 enjoins us to “lay our infirmities on one another’s breasts, to receive among ourselves mutual counsel, mutual compassion, and mutual consolation.”[6] In fact, he acknowledges several reasons why confession to human beings might be necessary or helpful. First, we do need to publicly acknowledge, in a general way, that we are sinners. Second, sometimes we need to confess our sins for the removal of an offense and the reconciliation of a relationship (as in Matthew 5:23-24 and 2 Corinthians 2:6-7). And third, there are times when we should privately confess sins to a pastor in cases where we are “troubled and afflicted with a sense of sins, so that without outside help [we are] unable to free [ourselves] from them.”

But with this last form of confession, Calvin urged that we should always observe this rule:

that where God prescribes nothing definite, consciences be not bound with a definite yoke. Hence, it follows that confession of this sort ought to be free so as not to be required of all, but to be commended only to those who know they have need of it. Then, that those who use it according to their need neither be forced by any rule nor be induced by any trick to recount all their sins. But let them do this so far as they consider it expedient, that they may receive the perfect fruit of consolation.[7]

Calvin’s teaching strikes me as both balanced and biblical. Of course there are occasions when confession is necessary for repairing a broken relationship or acknowledging a public offense. And sometimes it may be uniquely helpful for us to confess our sins to a fellow-believer. But we should beware of falling into the trap of thinking it is necessary as a means of obtaining God’s assurance of pardon. Christ is our great high priest, who invites us to come to the throne of grace with confidence that we will be heard (Heb 4:14-16). He has appeared once and for all to take away our sins (Heb. 9:26, 28). His blood alone can purify a sinner’s conscience (Heb. 9:14). This doesn’t mean we should be soft on sin. But it does remind us where our true hope for forgiveness and assurance lies. Not in the words of a confessor or a well-intended accountability partner – but in Christ alone.

Notes

[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, trans. John W. Doberstein (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1993) 111-112.

[2] John Calvin, John T. McNeil, ed., Ford L. Battles, trans., Institutes of the Christian Religion (Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press, 1960) 627.

[3] Ibid., 634.

[4] The editor, however, indicates that only the last two quotations actually come from Chrysostom.

[5] Ibid., 632-33.

[6] Ibid., 630.

[7] Ibid., 637.