More Than One Question

If I could encourage you in one way, it might be this, that you not approach God with a single question and then seek to determine what you think about God based on his answer to that question.

Far too many of us approach God this way, with our single question in hand, a test for God, if there ever was one, to see if he measured up to our ideas of what he should be like. Based on his response we then determine whether he is worth our love.

The problem with this approach is that it is too simplistic. If there really is a God, it would be impossible to know everything that there is to know about him from a single question. Further, I wouldn’t even want someone to judge my worth–and certainly not base their love for me–on any single question they may ask, no matter how positively I can answer the question! If before I were married my future wife came up to me and said, “do you like ice cream?” and I responded that I did, she may love me for the moment but be quite disappointed when she finds out that I don’t like having a conversation after 7 pm. If my desire for ice cream were the only thing true of me, or at least, the only thing she knew to be true of me, then her love would be so incomplete for me that it is only marginally better than no love at all. Indeed, it may even be worse, since her knowledge of me is so small that there is a high likelihood that, in the future, she will find out things about me that she will eventually grow to hate.

On the other hand, she may ask me a much more important question than my regards for ice cream. For example, she might ask me if I ever get very angry. And I would have to respond that I did, at times, get extremely angry. I may yell and curse when I get angry, although it is not the norm. If my future wife determined that I was not worth loving because of the way I answered that singular question, it would be just as tragic or worse than if she loved me based solely on my affinity for ice cream. Her knowledge remains incomplete; she cannot possibly understand me based on whether or not I like ice cream or whether or not I ever got angry.

Too often we approach God with singular questions intended to call him out, or characterize him into someone we can understand. Sometimes we do it so we can love him based on his answer, sometimes we do it because we already hate him, but it would be much easier if we had a reason. At best, the questions are a reflection of our heart; they cannot reflect the full truth of God.

If I were to approach God and ask him if he could ever forgive me, for example, the answer would be a resounding ‘Yes!’ Yes, he can forgive you! But to ask that question, no matter how positive the response, is to have a severely limited view of God. It may be the answer we were looking for, and even hoping for, but it is not the answer we ultimately need. Knowing that forgiveness is possible is an entirely different proposition than knowing how to attain that forgiveness; knowing that God can forgive without knowing how or why he forgives is incomplete. And, much the same as my wife loving me based on ice cream is dangerous, so loving God with such an incomplete knowledge of God is dangerous as well. For if I leave his presence and all I know is that he can forgive, but I forgot to ask him how, then it may be that I will never receive the forgiveness that I had been inquiring about in the first place.

I may also approach God and attempt to force him into a corner. How many would love to question whether or not God brought about the latest suffering, or the cancer, or allowed their sibling or parent to die at such a young age? We approach him with indignation and demand from him, “did you let this happen?” When he answers “yes”, as we assumed He would, there is no need for further questioning. That one answer gave us all that we need to know; we have no interest in a God who would allow that type of pain in our lives.

The problem is in our assumption that God’s knowledge is as limited as our knowledge. Our rationale goes something like this: If I cannot possibly picture a reason why this suffering may have come upon me, then it must not possible that there is a reason at all. My future spouse would be operating according to that rationale if she chose not to give me a chance after finding out that I sometimes get very angry. The problem, of course, is that she may not know why I get angry, nor has she even considered the possibility that there may be a reason for someone to be very angry. She has made her choice; she cannot picture a reason for someone to ever get angry, and so a reason must not exist. In the same way many of us miss out on God because we don’t like his answer to a singular question. We hear his answer and determine that it’s all we need to know. God is not worth our time.

And so we’re back at the beginning: do not approach God with one question that you believe will be the silver bullet for determining whether or not God is someone who should be loved. Rather, ask the deeper questions; the ones that lay beneath your desire to have an answer to the one you think is so pressing. Perhaps there is more to God than you originally thought. Perhaps he loves you more than you know. Perhaps the answer to the question you once thought so important that it could not wait will eventually be found to be meaningless, in light of the wonder of who God really is.

Are you willing to find that out?

On Baptism - Does God have Grandchildren?

Here's a slippery wicket: does God have grandchildren?

Most orthodox Christians believe that there must be a regenerative work of the Holy Spirit in the life of a person before they are finally admitted into the family of God. This work is described in various ways all throughout the New Testament but refers to that moment of moving from unbelief to belief. This work is compelled by, and accomplished by, the Holy Spirit working in our hearts. When that regenerative work occurs, we move from being an old creation to a new creation, or from death to life, or from darkness to light, or any number of other metaphors that are used in the Bible to describe the difference between our former state and our new state. Again, the regeneration is necessary, and it is a work of the Holy Spirit.

This is important: you don't get into the kingdom or family of God just because you are born into a Christian family with Christian parents. There must be a personal belief–putting ones confidence in the work of Jesus Christ for their own salvation–likely followed by some form of profession.

If memory serves me correctly, it was Billy Graham who either coined or popularized the phrase that "God does not have grandchildren." His point was to emphasize the importance of making a personal profession of faith in Jesus Christ; it was this "personal profession" that would indicate that a person possessed saving faith. In that sense, he is correct: God does not have grandchildren. He simply has children, all of whom have professed faith in Jesus Christ.

But what about the children of believing parents? Here we are left with three options.

The first option is that they, too, are Christians, or children of God. There are a multitude of problems with this, beginning with the aforementioned need for regeneration, and ending with the plethora of kids who have unfortunately been born to Christian parents who have then lived a life that ultimately professed a radically different belief. It is clear that simply being born into a Christian family is not enough to save; we must still admit our need for a savior and put our own confidence in Jesus Christ.

The second option is that these children are not Christians at all, but totally pagan, unregenerate, unbelievers, and far from God. We'll deal with this in a moment.

The third option is that these children are in some sort of a different category altogether. Perhaps not "regenerated" and thus fully saved, but not quite pagan, either.

Most Christians fall into the third category, at least in practice. Our children are raised to call Jesus, "Lord". They are raised to call God, "Father". They are taught to follow Jesus, to share Jesus with their friends, to live for Jesus, to pray to Jesus, and to abide by God's word. Of course, we wouldn't require (or should not require) any of these things for a person who was legitimately an unbelieving person. We may want them to live according to God's ideals, we may appeal to them on behalf of Christ, but we will only expect them to actually live that way once they have put their faith in Christ, have been transformed by the Holy Spirit, and genuine love for God and love for their neighbor is actually possible. To force a non-believing person to "act like a Christian" would be to create some sort of moralist, ethical behavior, that is not in any way based on the Gospel. We might create nice people, but not Christians.

But, of course, most of us don't view our children as being exactly the same as unbelievers. We recognize that by virtue of being raised to Christian parents who love Jesus, and teach Jesus in their homes, and call God "Father" themselves, our children receive some sort of benefit of being amongst the people of God. They are treated like they are a "part of the family", even if they haven't been able to profess Jesus Christ on their own. We look forward to the day when they will make that profession, but until then, our confidence is placed fully in Jesus that he will save our children, so we teach them to love Jesus as their savior so that they are prepared to hear his voice when he calls.

So what does that have to do with baptism?

We believe that baptism is a sign of the new covenant. This New Covenant is instituted through Christ's shed blood on the cross, thus making a way for all people to access the family of God through faith in Jesus Christ and confidence in his work on their behalf. Thus, baptism is ultimately a symbol of association with Jesus Christ in his life, death, and resurrection; this is the association that makes the covenant community the covenant community. It is the reason that when we practice adult baptisms, and an adult "receives the sign of the covenant", that we practice baptism by immersion into water. The imagery of the descent into the water and the reemergence from it reminds us that we have been buried with Christ and will rise with Christ–again, through association with his life, death, and resurrection, in faith.

The promises don't stop there, however. We also believe that when Peter told the Jewish people (and visiting foreigners in Jerusalem) that the promises of the Gospel were for them and their children, that he meant it exactly the way they would have taken it. If they, in faith, believed in the promises of God, then their children would receive the benefit of being raised in that covenant family as well. And, additionally, that if their children believed, then they, too, would ultimately receive salvation. In the meantime, the children would be raised to be "part of the family".

It is precisely because these children are considered to be "part of the family" that we baptize our infants, pointing towards Christ as the ultimate means of salvation, yet fully living in the grace of God that our children will be raised as a part of his covenant family. Our children, too, can call God, "Father". They will be taught to abide by His word and to love Jesus as their savior. In the meantime, we continually pray that Jesus would do the difficult work of transforming their hearts by sending the Holy Spirit so that they become a "new creation", through faith in Jesus Christ. When that happens, then we celebrate with them at their profession; what we are celebrating is not something that they have done, but something that God has done, and something we always believed he would.

Furthermore, we see these great promises of God towards his people all throughout Scripture. As we baptize our children because they will be raised as "part of the family", so Abraham circumcised his infants, and even the other adult males living in his house. Abraham's faith in the promises of God, and his dedication to the commands of God, would extend, in some way, to the people who lived under his roof. It wasn't a guarantee of salvation, (Remember Esau?) but it wasn't exactly the same as being outside the family either. Instead, Isaac, and all of his children, and their children, were considered to be part of the "covenant family". Eventually, the confirming mark that they had personally understood this would be a continued reliance on God and his promises (faith). But until then, they received the sign–circumcision–that indicated that they were included in God's covenant promises.

If baptism is really a sign of the new covenant (I cannot see how it isn't), then by restricting it to adults only we are making the case that children of believing parents are not part of the covenant. To be outside the covenant is to be pagan. This is at least in part why many baptist churches practice infant dedication. We almost instinctively realize that to be the child of a person who believes in Christ is a special blessing; certainly God's promises extend to our children in some way.

But dedication doesn't go far enough, because ultimately baptism isn't about us. It's about God. The God who saves his people by sending his Son Jesus to the cross to die for our sins. The God who establishes covenants with his people and then, through his faithfulness to his own covenants, ensures their fulfillment. The God who invites us to follow him in his Grace, who saves us by his Grace, and calls us to believe. We baptize our infants because it reminds us that even when we could not respond to God, he would faithfully pursue us anyway. God's love is poured out on our children through his church, as part of the family, until they can profess with their mouth, "Jesus is mine, and I am his."

That's a blessing worth celebrating. It's grace worth signifying. That's what baptism is about. And it's why our infants receive the sign.

The Way that Leads to Life

“There is a way that seems right to a man,
but its end is the way to death.”

— Proverbs 14:12; 16:25

The wisdom saying above occurs twice in the book of Proverbs, and why shouldn’t it? It is a summary of the way in which each of us walks his own way.

One can almost hear the thoughts of Adam in the Garden of Eden as he listened to his wife discuss the potential benefits of the “forbidden fruit” with the Serpent. In the end, after hearing the arguments, it is as if he thought to himself, “It seems like this is right. This is the best path forward to where I want to be.” He knew that God had said it would lead to death, but this way seemed more “right”.

Most of the time it is not the things that we know are wrong that get us off track; it is the things that we believe will be right for us. Perhaps it is only our motivation that is wrong, like performing good deeds for self-recognition. Maybe we assume that the ends justify the means, like lying on our resume because we believe that having this new job will allow us more flexibility to give of our time and our resources. Or, maybe we justify our actions by creating a greater evil that we are combating, like cheating on our taxes because we think the government will do worse with the money than we will.

Jesus did not walk according to his own way, but walked according to the way that God his Father had laid out for him. Because he perfectly walked God’s way, he was the perfect sacrifice for all of us who had walked according to our way. Because of his perfect life, his perfect sacrifice, and defeat of death, the way we must now walk is in the way—that is, we must walk in Jesus. (John 14:6)

The Gospel Vaccine

The best way to make sure that someone never understands the Gospel is to make them good.

I think this is what Jesus means when he tells the Pharisees that they go across sea and land to make a single convert and then make him "twice the son of hell" as they themselves are. There was a certain zeal to their activity; perhaps they were driven by a passion for their message. They may have appeared enthusiastic. Yet, they functionally shut the door to the kingdom of heaven in people's face. Why?

Because they taught people how to be saved without Jesus. They made people good. They told them how they could behave better, have a better life, be more religious, and please God on their own. Once they believed that they could please God with their own efforts, they were in double trouble. It's one thing to be ignorant of the fact that you have a problem (in this case, God's displeasure towards your best efforts); it's another thing entirely to believe that you've solved the problem on your own.

It's bad to have cancer and not know it. It's worse to have cancer but convince yourself everything is okay. In the case of the former, you might be open to the real remedy once the problem is revealed. In the case of the latter, you don't even think you need a remedy.

The way we do this in the world of American Christianity is giving people just enough Jesus that they don't ever bother to look for the real thing. We give them a vaccine. They are inoculated. And we do it by making them good.

Growing up, we were made good through religious activity. We had solid theology and doctrine, we just didn't have much of Jesus. We assumed Jesus. We could quote answer #1 from the catechism (at least the first part), we just didn't know how to actually get the comfort that we said we had (the second part of the answer). (Side note: question #2, which no one memorizes, also directs us towards the answer...)

Nowadays the pendulum has swung in the other direction. We no longer address doctrine, theology, or that sort of deep, boring, and confusing stuff. We just "follow Jesus". We're not entirely sure which Jesus, or what Jesus believed, or what he taught, or any of that confusing stuff. We do know how to be better parents, better lovers, and better employees, though, so it can't be all bad. Anything other than that we can just sort of make up as we go.

The end result is the same in both categories. It's either something we do or something we know that makes us okay with God. Either we know a lot about him, or we follow him. Unfortunately, neither is ultimately sufficient.

The heart of Christianity is putting our total confidence in Christ's work rather than our own; it's understanding God's absolute and one-way love towards sinners like us. It means admitting that my best isn't good enough. I can't earn God's acceptance–but I don't have to, because Jesus already has. God gives it to me, free of charge. That's grace. And it's the only way in to the kingdom of heaven.

“But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. For you neither enter yourselves nor allow those who would enter to go in. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you travel across sea and land to make a single proselyte, and when he becomes a proselyte, you make him twice as much a child of hell as yourselves.”

— Matthew 23:13-15

“Q. What is your only comfort
in life and in death?

A. That I am not my own,
but belong—
body and soul,
in life and in death—
to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.
He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.
He also watches over me in such a way
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven;
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.
Because I belong to him,
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.”

— Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 1

“Q. What must you know to
live and die in the joy of this comfort?

A. Three things:
first, how great my sin and misery are;
second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery;
third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance.”

— Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 2