Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Grace for Mark McGwire?

I appreciated this post from Mockingbird on the return of Mark McGwire to major league baseball as a batting coach. I wonder if you agree?

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

A Letter to the Church at Temple Hills: Congregationalism, Congregations, and Love

I'm a congregationalist. I believe the congregation has the final say-so in certain matters, including the calling and termination of its pastors.

History records a couple of mind-boggling decisions made by congregations in the termination of its pastors. The famed case of Jonathan Edwards comes to mind. There, the local church fired the greatest American theologian and one of the principal figures used of the Lord in the first Great Awakening, a revival that swept through New England. A couple pastoral mis-steps and a big fight over communion and membership and down came the axe on Edwards.

Then there is the case of Lemuel Haynes. For over 30 years the faithful pastor of a congregation in Rutland, Vermont, Haynes led the congregation as it grew significantly, championed the gospel against universalism, defended the cause of the oppressed, and wrote eloquently against slavery and for the ideals of the new republic at her birth. After 30 years, following a poorly-handled censure of a deacon, with racial prejudice growing in the body, Haynes was dismissed by the congregation into which he'd poured three decades of his life.

In both cases, the congregations had the right to make the decision. In both cases, the congregations were wrong, in my opinion. Congregationalism is not a fail safe for foolishness or rashness or partisan bickering or any other sins of the flesh. In some cases, congregationalism simply provides a larger canvas for the flesh to display itself. The rule of the majority isn't any more sanctified than the rule of a few bishops. Both have their weaknesses. Bishops may become tyrants; congregations may become mobs.

When a faithful pastor is removed from his people, it is akin to a marriage covenant being torn asunder. The tear is deep and often irreversible. The pains are real and lasting. Memory becomes a phantom that haunts and unsettles--for pastor and people.

There is something that congregationalism presupposes if it is to be healthy. It assumes the people comprising the congregation are actually acting as members of one body rather than individuals "casting their vote" in partisan affairs. It assumes that the allegiance to the whole is stronger than the allegiance to self or any parts or cliques. The party spirit crying "I am of Apollos" and "I am of Paul" destroys the "no division in the body... equal concern for each other" (1 Cor. 12:25) ethic vital to the well-being of the church.

Every member of the church has a responsibility to abandon self and party and fight for the preservation of the whole. "Make every effort to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit--just as you were called to one hope when you were called--one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all" (Eph. 4:3-6). "Is Christ divided?" (1 Cor. 1:13).

Recently, members of an increasingly prominent Baptist church voted to remove a faithful pastor from his post. The vote was split--roughly 115 folks for removal to about 105 folks against. The vote ended several months of painful dissension apparently led by two deacons who opposed the biblical direction of the church. And thus ended seven years of faithful, patient, gentle, wise and biblical leadership. As far as I am concerned, this brother was far more godly than I, far wiser, far more loving, far more patient, and so on. It's a termination that has the ring of Edwards and Haynes. That is to say, it was within the congregation's rights, but it was sad and misguided.

Now, however, there is a significant problem facing the church that goes well beyond simply finding another pastor. What do you do with a church so evenly split? How do you continue to be one church? How do you put Eph. 4 and 1 Corinthians and so many other passages into practice?

Already many have decided to leave the church. But here are my questions: Why leave the church to the control of a couple of people who do not understand biblical leadership? Why abandon brothers and sisters for whom there is to be equal concern and care? Why now act as though the church is no longer the unified body of our Lord in that local place? Why give the world another example of Christian disunity denying the reality that the Father sent His Son? (John 17:20-21) Why leave and thereby suggest that you were given to that party spirit which exalted men over Christ? Why let that local church descend into what might be generations of unfaithfulness and pain?

Here's one man's plea to almost 50% of the congregation: demonstrate that Christ and His bride are greater in your affections than even the very beloved pastor unjustly removed from leadership. Demonstrate your love for the pastor by remaining committed to the church he worked to build. Keep a view that looks beyond your pain and beyond this skirmish to the people who will come and the generations that will arise, and stay for them. Keep a gospel light on for those who will come. Fill up the sufferings of Christ in your body rather than give in to the tempting convenience of leaving, so that the cause of Christ and Christ himself will be seen as your treasure. Love one another deeply from the heart so that the world would see a compelling picture of forgiveness and grace and mercy and reconciliation and gritty commitment and hope and peace and longsuffering and forbearance and unity in Christ.
You've been dealt a blow, but it's a long battle. Take the pain, bear it and live on for Christ and the gospel and the kingdom. Satan has overplayed his hand. The victory of Christ will now be more apparent and sweeter if you love one another with a sincere love, stemming from a sincere faith, powered by the indwelling Spirit of God.

Of course, churches have reversed decisions before. I pray this one would do so in this case. Call in mediators like those at Peacemakers Ministries. Until there is reconciliation, remove from leadership those deacons causing the strife. As a congregational church, you not only call the pastors but all the leaders--including the deacons. Sit some men down until you're able to pray and work your way to the mind of Christ, then act on the biblical wisdom you've learned over these seven years. Do what you have to do to weaken the devil's work among you and plead for an enlargement of the Spirit's work in and through you. Forgive from the heart as God has forgiven you. Repair the harms done and so bring honor to our Lord.

Please pray for all the saints of God facing church splits, witnessing embattled pastors, and fighting through the challenges to biblical faithfulness. I've written about one such church here, but there are tons more in this fallen world.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Read This and Confess

JT posted the following excerpt from Tripp's new book, Whiter Than Snow: Meditations on Sin and Mercy. I, too, found it convicting and helpful and liberating. Visit JT's post and also find a video of Tripp reading from and discussing the book.
It wasn’t a big deal in one way. Just a small conversation that had turned a bit ugly. It wasn’t a dramatic life-altering moment. It was in the privacy of my home with one of my family members. But maybe that’s the point. Perhaps it’s very important because that’s where I live everyday. You see, you and I don’t live in a series of big, dramatic moments. We don’t careen from big decision to big decision. We all live in an endless series of little moments. The character of a life isn’t set in ten big moments. The character of a life is set in 10,000 little moments of everyday life. It’s the themes of struggles that emerge from those little moments that reveal what’s really going on in our hearts.

So, I knew I couldn’t back away from this little moment. I knew I had to own my sin. The minute I thought this, an inner struggle began. "I wasn’t the only one at fault. If he hadn’t said what he said, I wouldn’t have become angry. I was actually pretty patient for much of the conversation." These were some of the arguments I was giving myself.

Isn’t this interesting. Rather than appealing to the mercy of the Lord in the face of my sin, what I actually do instead is function as my own defense lawyer and present a list of arguments for my own righteousness. The theology behind the defense is that my greatest problem is outside of me, not inside of me. In so arguing, I’m telling myself that I don’t really need to be rescued by the Lord’s mercy. No, I’m telling myself that what I need to be rescued from is that sinner in the room who caused me to respond as I did.

Here’s the point. Before you can ever make a clean and unamended confession of your sin, you have to first begin by confessing your righteousness. It’s not just your sin that separates you from God, your righteousness does as well. Because, when you are convinced you are righteous, you don’t seek the forgiving, rescuing, and restoring mercy that can only be found in Jesus Christ.

What’s actually true is that when I come to the Lord after I’ve blown it, I’ve only one argument to make. It’s not the argument of the difficulty of the environment that I am in. It’s not the argument of the difficult people that I’m near. It’s not the argument of good intentions that were thwarted in some way. No, I only have one argument. It’s right there in the first verse of Psalm 51, as David confesses his sin with Bathsheba. I come to the Lord with only one appeal; his mercy. I’ve no other defense. I’ve no other standing. I’ve no other hope. I can’t escape the reality of my biggest problem; me! So I appeal to the one thing in my life that’s sure and will never fail. I appeal to the one thing that guaranteed not only my acceptance with God, but the hope of new beginnings and fresh starts. I appeal on the basis of the greatest gift I ever have or ever will be given. I leave the courtroom of my own defense, I come out of hiding and I admit who I am. But I’m not afraid, because I’ve been personally and eternally blessed. Because of what Jesus has done, God looks on me with mercy. It’s my only appeal, it’s the source of my hope, it’s my life. Mercy, mercy me!

Do People Really Want Forgiveness?

I've just started John Ensor's book, The Great Work of the Gospel. I've only read a couple chapters and already it's been a very helpful, edifying, and God-glorifying read. This morning Ensor offered a really insightful couple of paragraphs on forgiveness:
Ask a hundred people if they want forgiveness, and a hundred people will say, "Yeah, sure. And can I have fries with that, and a large Pepsi?" They have no great sense of needing God's forgiveness but believe it would not hurt to have it in their pocket just in case. Religion is, I fear, most often practiced to buy off God's anger, to pay for a sin done, so that one is free to go on in it. We throw ourselves into church or confession as a burglar might throw a steak to a watchdog--to keep him at a safe distance. C.S. Lewis had his own witty way of describing the problem: "Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about 'man's search for God.' To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse's search for the cat."

Our natural belief about ourselves is that we are pretty darned good people, though we are not too proud to admit that we have made a few mistakes along the way. This allows us to confess a little guilt, but in a self-flattering way. We say, "Well, I admit I'm not perfect." We do not mean to be humble here, as in "Now, honey, remember I'm not a perfect husband." We say it defensively: "Okay! I'm not perfect." Translation: "Other than a blemish or two, I sparkle. So get off my case!"

We also like to say, "I'm only human." By this we man, "My sin should be excused because, as a human being, I really can't help it."

Even when we feel guilty, we do not believe it is because we are guilty. (p. 32)

This is looking like it's going to be a great read. I've already been drawn more deeply into the great work of God through Christ Jesus His Son and our Lord.

Challies has a review here.