Psalm 36

An oracle within my heart concerning the sins of the wicked:

There is no fear of God before my eyes; my sobriety comes and goes with each passing wind of temptation to lust or sloth; I put up no determined resistance to what is contrary to Holiness. Rather, I flatter myself that if I pay no attention to sin, the transgression will fade to insignificance, the evil wondrously mitigated. Though I discover my iniquity myself, speak condescendingly to my neighbor, despise and belittle my brother, and am embittered against the one who sees my faults, I will conclude that it is but natural; the offense is not great; “God? Who is He?”

When I speak pompous words of intent and activity, I cover myself with filthy deceit. Self-promotion, pride, emptiness more wicked for the fullness it professes – these sins fill my heart and spill from my mouth. True wisdom has long since departed; the mind of man and the heart alone cannot achieve the wisdom of God however vigourously they knock about, poke in the corners, and work to stir up and inflate understanding. A man in sin continuing can know nothing of wisdom, for wisdom, true wisdom, leads to what is God.

Goodness and that man who reconciles himself with ‘one more time’ have chosen paths and gone their ways. A hundred earthly acts of good may be garnered to overshadow his wretchedness, but he cannot reach the goodness of true godliness; he cannot do good anymore than he can stand on water. The works of man cannot produce the righteousness of God.
I have turned from holiness; there can be no good. Even at rest my sins multiply in me and against me; my mind pursues what is not right, it nurtures grievances, it dwells on humbling experiences sighing. But I am unable to sigh and cry over sin; I do not abhor sin – it is my precious, my bosom friend, my heart’s familiar one. It is mine, my pit, and I am loathe not to fall into it.

This is me. Ah help! Oh hope! Where is there freedom, where is my saving from the ‘right way’ of death?

Your mercy, O Lord; if it were not in the heavens,
Your faithfulness, if it was not so high as the clouds,
Your righteousness is rugged and stable,
Your judgments, who can fathom them?

By these we are preserved; by these the birds of the air and the beasts of the field yet live – You uphold them; and You are our preservation.

- these are lost and dying. there was an old lady across the way from my house who was wheeled out most evenings to participate in the sunset and evening air. She was there but she wasn't; from the beginning she was waited on as if by pallbearers. I ached for her as I watched her head droop lower and twist to the side. Her mouth needed wiping then; her tongue stopped shaping words, and the women talked around her; she couldn’t see her granddaughter’s picture or the excitement in her eyes. The children were shooed off, night set in, and she was wheeled away. I made her a cake once; it molded as I debated whether or not to break cultural rules and stagger through an explanation of what it was for. She had no where to go and no one to point her the way. Her body lies covered by a few inches of dust in an open cement casket pointed south by southwest.

They all go this way, the future so unclear they stumble into it as children off the merry-go-round. It’s a tough question, this “what is to become of those who never hear,” and one that I only find answer for in the sovereignty of God. Some tell me that’s no answer at all, that everyone has a choice. I agree in a way they find disagreeable:
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holy advance


"Formerly I have wished to live longer, that I might be better prepared for heaven; but this consideration had very very little weight with me, and that for a very unusual reason, which was this: - after long trial I found this world a place so unfriendly to the growth of every thing divine and heavenly, that I was afraid if I should live any longer, I should be no better fitted for heaven than I am. Indeed I have hardly any hopes of ever making any great attainment in holiness while in this world, though I should be doomed to stay in it as long as Methusaleh. I see other Christians indeed around me make some progress, though they go on with but a snail-like motion. But when I consider that I set out about twelve years old, and what sanguine hopes I then had of my future progress, and yet that I have been almost at a stand ever since, I am quite discouraged. O, my good Master, if I may dare call thee so, I am afraid I shall never serve thee much better on this side the regions of perfection. The thought grieves me; it breaks my heart, but I can hardly hope better. But if I have the least spark of true piety in my breast, I shall not always labour under this complaint. No, my Lord, I shall yet serve thee; serve thee through an immortal duration; with the activity, the fervour, the perfection of 'the rapt seraph that adores and burns'."

Samuel Davies (1st great awakening)

When we abide in Christ, we feel more than ever that we must ask for more grace. He who knows Christ best knows his own necessities best. He who is most conscious of life in Christ is also most convinced of his own death apart from Christ. He who most clearly discerns the perfect character of Jesus will be most urgent in prayer for grace to grow like Him. The more I seek to be in my Lord, the more I desire to obtain from Him, since I know that all that is in Him is put there on purpose that I may receive it. “And of His fullness have all we received, and grace for grace.” It is just in proportion as we are linked to Christ’s fullness that we feel the necessity of drawing from it by constant prayer.

CHS

In this manner, therefore, pray…

What I say here is particularly related to prayer that accompanies the preaching of the Word and anticipates the saving of men’s souls; the implication, though, is unbounded, extending to prayers over broken bones, fearful expectations, intemperate weather, and lost socks. The statement that raises this discussion is “assuredly I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in My name, He will give you.” And the question that springs from the statement is “What in the world is He talking about?”

The sovereignty of God and the necessity of prayer are truths juxtaposed. These are a paradox that refuses the natural mind full admittance into the great hall where conductor and symphony create their magic. But the music is no less real for our being unable to see its conception, and the closed doors only heighten the piquancy of the melody. Let us assume, without taking the time to explain or support, that both themes, sovereignty and prayer, are completely established and unconditionally supported by Scripture. The former has determinedly required and simultaneously instigated, compelled and enabled the latter; the latter, rightly applied, supports the authority of the former, seeking to see and speak by its light and vocabulary, appealing on the basis of God’s character to His good intention and foreknowledge. Prayer does not require anything be left un-ordained, sovereignty does not preclude our asking “whatever.” The one leads to the other, the other points back to the one.

more as i write it

the age of truth


There will be no new God, nor a new devil, and we shall never have a new Savior, nor a new atonement: why should we then be either attracted or alarmed by the error and nonsense which everywhere plead for a hearing because they are new?

What is their newness to us; we are not children, nor frequenters of playhouses? Truly, to children a new toy or a new play has immense attractions; but men care less about the age of a thing than about its intrinsic value.

To suppose that theology can be new is to imagine that the Lord himself is of yesterday. A doctrine which is said to have lately become true must of necessity be a lie. Falsehood has no beard, but truth is hoary with an age immeasurable. The old gospel is the only gospel. Pity is our only feeling towards those young preachers who cry, "See my new theology," in just the same spirit as little Mary says, "See my pretty new frock."

CHS

What Christians believe

Often in religious discussion one will hear “well, I believe that…” or “Christians believe…” as if believing a thing lent credence to it. The thought runs if I believe it, it must be valid; so we act and speak like what we believe is conclusive evidence for what must be true. Or the phrase is used to soften the edges of the rigid singularity of the gospel. Or it is employed as a cover for a less than adequate knowledge of what Scripture teaches. In reality, what we believe doesn’t matter (I expect hell will swallow much of what men glibly claim to believe).

The critical issue is what the Word of God says, and the necessary thing is whether our thoughts, our beliefs, align with what is contained in it. So in our telling the whole truth, let us direct all attention to the Scriptures themselves for therein is the gospel of the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith, therein is life.

a fit, winsome word

"Wisdom is proved, not by the quantum of knowledge, but by its right application. Observe 'the Spirit of knowledge resting upon our Divine Master.' (Is xi.2) In condescending to the ignorance of the people; in commanding their respect; in silencing the gainsayers; in alluring sinners to himself - how did his wise tongue use knowledge aright! Thus did his great Apostle give to all the same knowledge, but wisely - not the same form or gradation. (I Cor. iii.2.) Instead of exasperating his Heathen congregation by an open protest, he supplied their acknowledged defect, by bringing before them the true God, 'whom they were ignorantly worshipping.' (Acts, xvii.23.) He pointed an arrow to Agrippa's conscience, by the kindly admission of his candour and intelligence. (Ib. xxvi.27-29.) This right use of knowledge distinguishes the 'workman approved of God, and that needeth not to be ashamed.' (2Tim. ii.15.) The want of it often gives out truth so loosely and unsuitably, as to open, rather than to shut, the mouth of the gainsayer; rather to bring discredit upon the truth, than conviction to the adversary. Specially will the tongue of the wise direct a right application of knowledge to those, who have newly entered the path of God May we not sometimes in our present stature, forget our former feeble infancy? If now we 'strike our roots as Lebanon,' was it not once with us only 'the least of all seeds?' (Hos. xiv.5. Matt. xiii.32.) Let our considerate instruction pluck the thorn out of their tender feet, 'lest that which is lamed be turned out of the way; but rather let it be healed,' (Heb. xii.13.)"

Bridges on Proverbs 15:2

a view of holiness edgewise

There is one church here, so I go to it. On Sunday mornings I quit the house and wander down the hill to the white frame church in the firs. On a big Sunday there might be twenty of us there; often I am the only person under sixty, and feel as though I'm on an archaeological tour of Soviet Russia. The members are of mixed denominations; the minister is a Congregationalist, and wears a white shirt. The man knows God. Once, in the middle of the long pastoral prayer of intercession for the whole world--for the gift of wisdom to its leaders, for hope and mercy to the grieving and pained, succor to the oppressed, and God's grace to all--in the middle of this he stopped, and burst out, "Lord, we bring you these same petitions every week." After a shocked pause, he continued reading the prayer. Because of this, I like him very much. "Good morning!" he says after the first hymn and invocation, startling me witless every time, and we all shout back, "Good morning!" . . .

The higher Christian churches--where, if anywhere, I belong--come at God with an unwarranted air of professionalism, with authority and pomp, as though they knew what they were doing, as though people in themselves were an appropriate set of creatures to have dealings with God. I often think of the set pieces of liturgy as certain words which people have successfully addressed to God without their getting killed. In the high churches they saunter through the liturgy like Mohawks along a strand of scaffolding who have long since forgotten their danger. If God were to blast such a service to bits, the congregation would be, I believe, genuinely shocked. But in the low churches you expect it any minute. This is the beginning of wisdom.

--Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm (Harper & Row, 1977)

.a valentine's story.

too many believers want to make the argument that God works in so many ways that, in the end (if their thoughts were all spilled out), Jesus isn't really necessary. sincerety, love, and good intention are the primary things - let all else come out in the wash as it will. God is love, so let Him love everyone into heaven. we want to swim in love till we drown - and we will drown. we'd rather drown than come to terms with the holiness of God.

in a perfect conversation with a teacher today, i mentioned i was reading the Quran and was asked why, incredulous; to know what it says, i said. so the conversation took off and ran straight into the deity of Christ: Jesus is, He must be, God. although God is Merciful and Gracious as the Quran emphasizes, He is also, and He must be, Holy, Righteous, Just, Equitable. so sin must be punished whether we repent or not, whether we believe in Him or not, whether we do good things or not, whether we think so or not. only a perfect being who had no sins for which to be punished could take the penalty for our sins and wash us clean.So God had to do the work of saving us Himself; He, and no other, was able to save us from our sinful and condemned condition.

the teacher, a nominal Muslim tending toward humanism, asked, "if God is perfect, why would He sacrifice Himself for men?" what a glorious question; what a fathomless answer. pray for our conversations in the days ahead. there's so much to say. the person of Christ appears to me more beautiful the more i share His work and sufficiency. the presence and necessity of the Holy Spirit is more strikingly marvelous and urgent. the infinite love of the Father is more incomprehensible.

The Evangelical church is nearly foundered by the misconceived doctrine that profession is faith and faith is assurance and assurance is eternal life. Familiar phrases such as “assurance of salvation,” “eternal security,” and “once saved, always saved” attempt to capture the biblical truth outlined by the Scriptures I John 5:13 and John 10:25-30, among others. Unfortunately, the attempt has had somewhat the same effect on the truth of the doctrine of assurance as exfoliation on a carapace – nothing is left to live by and the vestiges of substance tumble in the wind.

To the believer in Christ, such as I am, “the promises of the gospel and eternal life are assuredly mine, provided I have genuine faith. But I know [also] that there is... read more

read this and worship:
Leithart on the Temple of God in Christ

119:25-32
This is the true crescendo of worship which I do not doubt needs to be our familiar pattern of approaching and enjoying God. The writer here is full aware of the lowliness, the earthiness of his soul; having prayed earlier for open eyes, he is found now with his prayers answered "clinging to the dust," "melting from heaviness," accustomed to "the way of lying" – he knows his sinfulness – not as the self-righteous who deftly, redundantly spill accounts and acknowledgments of their sin to appear the more humble. But as one truly repentant, he declares his ways to the Lord. Spurgeon writes: “Nothing brings more ease and more life to a man than a frank acknowledgment of the evil which has caused [his] sorrow and lethargy. Such a declaration proves that the man knows his own condition, and is no longer blinded by pride. Our confessions are not meant... read more

What do I fear most? (since you asked). I fear what we all fear most – pitching head-long into nothing. Falling at last into the hands of God empty-handed. Not becoming what great men have become; becoming nothing – Ruled by melatonin, enslaved to convenient. I wait at the corner and watch ragged men scrape the streets with sticks and straws collecting the tailings from the city’s dig into the hole “materialism.” I read of great battles fought by great men with sharp and cunning words. And I wonder, what makes a man great; where does one go to buy words like that – words long and tempered with the truth? These are strong words and faithful wielded by practiced, skilled men. They parry and blow; I am awed. I have a stick, and I imitate them, blocking, striking, thrusting. I do not want to be a sweeper, but if I must be, let me sweep the mountains into the sea and make room for a highway clean and pure – a road for fighting men to march on 12 abreast, row on row and disciplined, eyes fixed on a certain goal. And I will be satisfied...

i had to laugh when i logged into my blog page today. somehow the embedded music source switched automatically and left viewers thinking i'd gone discotheque. sorry about that... isn't life grand =)

week two:

Quotes:

Montaigne speaks of "an abecedarian ignorance that precedes knowledge, and a doctoral ignorance that comes after it." The first is the ignorance of those who cannot read at all; the second is that of those who have misread. These Alexander Pope rightfully calls "bookful blockheads," ignorantly read.
(from How to Read a Book)

The next best thing to being really inside Christendom is to be really outside it. [The difficulty] is that the popular critics of Christianity are not really outside it. They are on a debatable ground, in every sense of the term. They are doubtful in their very doubts. Their criticism has taken on a curious tone; as of a random and illiterate heckling. Thus they make current and anti-clerical cant as a sort of small-talk. They will complain of parsons dressing like parsons; as if we should be any more free if all the police who shadowed or collared us were plain-clothes detectives. Or they will complain that a sermon cannot be interrupted, and call a pulpit a coward's castle; though they do not call an editor's office a coward's castle. It would be unjust both to journalists and priests; but it would be much truer of journalists. The clergyman appears in person and could easily be kicked as he came out of church; the journalist conceals even his name so that nobody can kick him. They write wild and pointless articles and letters in the press about why the churches are empty, without even going there to find out if they are empty, or which of them are empty. Their suggestions are more vapid and vacant than the most insipid curate in a three-act farce, and move us to comfort him after the manner of the curate in the Bab Ballads: “Your mind is not so blank as that of Hopley Porter.”The Rival Curates So we may truly say to the very feeblest cleric: “Your mind is not so blank as that of Indignant Layman or Plain Man or Man on the Street, or any of your critics; for they have not the most shadowy notion of what they want themselves, let alone of what you ought to give them.” (gkc, from The Everlasting Man)

I figured out how to memorize Ps 119: forget the assigned numbers; memorize each section letter as a tab on a file containing 8 items. Finding the exact number is easily done by multiplying by 8.

Vs. 17 “Deal bountifully with Your servant, that I may live and keep Your word.”
O God, where is life but in the keeping of Your word? But who is sufficient? Except You look on us with favour, Your word falls like seeds on dry ground; there is no life in us. So we lift our voice to You, and, knowing Your goodness, ask that You do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Send Your rains on us and cause the springs of the deep to break on our understanding; shine the Sun of Righteousness on our cold hearts that we would be warmed to receive Your truth. You are God; we are Your people. Deal with us according to Your lovingkindness that we may serve You all of our days.

from every direction

today, 8^th grade discussed briefly a quote by Plato:
“The world is god’s epistle to mankind—His thoughts are flashing upon us from every direction.”
I reiterated the fact that to prepare for a course in geography, one had to lay the love of God in Christ as the foundation for any intellectual pursuit and then use as a line and compass the understanding that everything we touch with our hands or our minds, though it is tainted and twisted by sin, if we dig at it, will reveal to us something of God – His singularity, His diversity, His creativity, His immutability, His righteousness and His grace, His mercy and His judgment. So geography is not simply peoples and lands; a look at cultures is a window into the divine and perfect disparity (I use the term advisedly) of the God-head, and to study topography is to wrestle with divine intention.
And we will build, properly dimensioned, as we grow in the knowledge of God, the temple of God in Zion with the cedars of Lebanon, the riches of Sheba, the skill of Sidon and Tyre, the gold of Ophir – and the world will see all the wisdom of Solomon, and the house that is built, and the food of our table, and the seating of the servants, and the attendance of the ministers, and their apparel, and the cupbearers, and our ascent by which we go up unto the house of Jehovah; and there will be no more spirit in them.

a first look

just a beginning.