Archive for the ‘Faith’ Category

God’s passion for His glory (Part 1)

September 3rd, 2010

God is uppermost in His own affections, John Piper would say. God’s supreme and driving passion is for His own glory.

It’s perhaps the most provocative and uncomfortable of all of Piper’s statements.

It’s been the source of a dozen heated discussions between myself, my sister, and my dad. Anna and I take Piper’s side; Dad argues that Piper can’t be right. God is love (I John 4:8,16) and love does not seek its own (I Cor 13:5). Surely the whole of Scripture, the redemptive story reveals that we are uppermost in God’s affections, that God’s supreme and driving passion is for our redemption.

I don’t like to admit it to my dad, but I sympathize with his argument–an awful lot. (Believe it or not, even “perfect” homeschooled daughters like myself have difficulties admitting that they agree with their parents!)

I see Piper’s point and agree with it. God is certainly jealous for His own glory. It is certainly in man’s best interest that God be glorified rather than man. God’s glory is undoubtedly a major theme of Scripture.

But God is love. And love does not seek its own.

Piper’s response to this–that it is in man’s best interest that God be glorified rather than man–does not fully address this issue. Basically, it says that “love does not seek its own” except when we’re talking about God’s love. The rules are different for God because God’s self-seeking is for our best.

I don’t really buy that. The rules aren’t different for God–the rules exist because of who God is. Love isn’t self-seeking because God, from whom love is defined, is not self-seeking.

I’ve wrestled with this question on and off for years–and while I can’t claim to have come to a full understanding, I do feel that I have come to a position that I have some degree of peace about.

I’ll discuss my wrestlings, and the conclusion I’ve come to, a bit more next week–but first, I want to hear what you think about the topic. Is God primarily passionate for Himself, or for people? Is the idea that God is passionate for His own glory contradictory with the idea that God is love?

(This is a reflection on the first chapter of John Piper’s Desiring God. For more reflections on Desiring God, see my notes here.)

Inciting Passion

September 2nd, 2010

This year, I have been concentrating on exercising my mind towards the things of God.

No doubt my longer-term readers have noticed the emphasis of this blog shifting from anecdotes to thinking and theology. Those who have seen my book lists have seen weightier books appearing more often on my lists–and have seen a greater emphasis on critical evaluation in my reviews. Those who know me personally have likely seen or heard some of my intellectual struggles of this past year as I’ve wrestled with the role of the miraculous gifts in today’s church, with what might appropriately induce someone to leave a church, with the role of Christians in government, with non-violence as a Christian virtue, and more.

Now, as I return to the classroom, teaching again, I still intend to exercise my mind towards the things of God–but to that I add one more goal.

I would like to stir up my passions towards God.

I want to incite within my soul such a thirst for God that I find the murky waters of this world unfulfilling. I should like to develop such a taste for God that I will turn aside from every trifle this world offers. I would like to desire God so deeply, so fully that the desire for Him drowns out every desire for any other person or thing. I should like for Him to become my consuming passion, my deepest longing, my forever quest.

I am reading John Piper’s Desiring God–and as I read, I am crying:
“Lord, awaken my hunger. Lord, awaken my thirst. Lord, awaken longing. Awaken my desire–for You.”

“I know of no other way to triumph over sin long-term than to gain a distaste for it because of a superior satisfaction in God.”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O Lord, I desire to find such superior satisfaction in You!

“…it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us…We are far too easily pleased.”
~C.S. Lewis, quoted in Desiring God

O Lord, may I not be easily pleased by the small joys this world offers.

“…This persistent and undeniable yearning for happiness was not to be suppressed, but to be glutted–on God!”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O that I may be glutted on You!

“God is glorified not only by His glory’s begin seen, but by its being rejoiced in.”
~Jonathon Edwards, quoted in Desiring God

May my life bring You glory as I rejoice in You.

“The pleasure Christian Hedonism seeks is the pleasure that is in God Himself. He is the end of our search, no the means to some further end.”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O, that I might delight in You, not as a means to my heart’s desire, but because You are my heart’s desire.

(This is a reflection on the foreword and introduction to John Piper’s Desiring God. For more reflections on Desiring God, see my notes here.)

Pleasure seeking

September 1st, 2010

To be human is to be a pleasure-seeker.

We are fond of thinking of the dissipated fellow partying all night, drunken, sleeping around, and experimenting with drugs as a pleasure-seeker. We are not likely to think of the sturdy fellow who goes to school, gets a job, and raises a family as a pleasure-seeker. Instead, we call him a level-headed chap. Then there are the philanthropists and volunteers. We call them altruistic. Certainly they are not pleasure-seekers. And finally, there is the missionary who travels to a different land to face certain death. He cannot be a pleasure-seeker, we say. We either call him crazy or a hero for his self-sacrifice.

Yet each of these is a pleasure-seeker.

Pleasure seeking does not distinguish one man from another, for pleasure seeking is a trait common to man. What separates one man from another is not that he seeks pleasure, but what he seeks pleasure in.

Furthermore, what separates one man from another is his relative success at not only seeking but finding pleasure.

The dissipated man is forever chasing a fleeting pleasure, a buzz that quickly fades. The steady man may have traded these “buzzes” for the pleasures of stability and comfort. The altruistic man has denied the buzz of the dissipated man–and perhaps even the stability and comforts of the stead man–for the pleasures of “doing the right thing” or the laud of other men.

All of these are pleasure-seekers, seeking pleasure in a variety of things. Each man trades some form of pleasure for another, depending on what he feels most likely to bring him long term pleasure. Some pleasures last longer than others. None of these last forever.

The Christian does the same thing. The difference is that while all these other pleasures are earthly and momentary, the Christian knows the source of true eternal pleasure.

The Chinese believers who face certain death as they seek a way into North Korea to share the gospel of Christ crucified and risen–they do so in pursuit of pleasure. They deem Christ the highest pleasure t be found–and are thus willing to forgo even fleshly life itself in order to chase after Him.

Crazy?

Only if God is not the eternal source of pleasure.

Heroes?

Perhaps.

Or maybe just the ultimate in pleasure-seekers.

God-seekers

(This is the beginning of my notes and reflections on Desiring God by John Piper. See other notes on the same topic by clicking the Desiring God tag.)

Crying “Uncle”

August 31st, 2010

How many times in my moments, hours, days, months of sorrow have I cried out to the Lord for mercy? Like a boy wrestling with his much stronger brother, I plead “Uncle.” I can’t take it any more. The pain is too strong. I have not the power to keep fighting. Mercy, I beg.

Could it be in those days that He refused my request in order to answer my prayer?

“Mercy,” I pray.

And in His mercy, He ignores my “Uncle.”

I can’t take it anymore.

In His mercy, He keeps giving it–until I learn to cast my cares on Him.

The pain is too strong.

In His mercy, He lets the pain remain so that my faith can be refined.

I have not the power to keep fighting.

In His mercy, He keeps the fight going until at last I put down my arms.

In His severe mercy, He refuses to change my circumstances–lest in my changed circumstances, my heart should be unchanged.

A Severe Mercy–to give me not what I want, but what I need.

“It was death–Davy’s death–that was the severe mercy. There is no doubt at all that Lewis is saying precisely that. That death, so full of suffering for us both, suffering that still overwhelmed my life, was yet a severe mercy. A mercy as severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”

~Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy

I’m so vain…

August 26th, 2010

I think that this blog’s all about me.

Am I the only person who occasionally wastes hours of her day reading her own blog?

I find myself nodding, mm-hmm-ing, and occasionally bursting into an amen.

I want to write myself comments to say “Bravo”.

I become impressed with how I express myself, with the topics I write about, with the way I think about issues.

I’m pretty much my biggest fan.

Which is pretty much not cool at all.

My pride would say that I am wise, that I know the answers, that bekahcubed is a fount of wisdom and discernment.

The word of God says otherwise.

In fact, God’s word places wisdom and pride on opposite ends of a spectrum.

“When pride comes, then comes shame; but with the humble is wisdom.”
~Proverbs 11:2

“By pride comes nothing but strife, But with the well-advised is wisdom.”
~Proverbs 13:10

“In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride, But the lips of the wise will preserve them.”
~ Proverbs 14:3

In fact, pride is the one thing that Scripture tells us God actively opposes: in both James 4:6 and I Peter 5:5, we read:

“God resists the proud,
But gives grace to the humble.”

In taking pride in my wisdom, I reveal how little wisdom I truly have–
and I set myself in opposition to God and He to me.

How much better that I heed the word of God through James:

“Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.”

I could never myself believe in God

August 17th, 2010

Notes on John Stott’s
The Cross of Christ
Chapter 13: Suffering and Glory

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross.”

This quote is found on the back of my library’s copy of The Cross of Christ. I’ve seen it every time I grab the book to read it–and, quite frankly, it has always mystified me.

Sure, if it were not for the cross, God would be a very different God than the God of the Bible, since the cross is the crux of all Scripture (pun partially intended!) But does that mean that I could not believe in Him? I don’t know. I mean, He would still be powerful and in control and creative and so on and so forth. Surely I could still believe in Him. Couldn’t I?

As I said, that quote puzzled me.

But then finally, in the very last chapter of the book, I found the quote’s origins. And then I understood.

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as ‘God on the cross’. In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples…and stood respectful before the statue of the Buddha…a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our sufferings become more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering.”
~John Stott, The Cross of Christ

Stott is not speaking of whether or not he could believe that God exists without the cross but of whether or not he could believe in Him–that is, whether he could place his trust in this God.

A God who is incapable of pain, who is merely a detached observer, cannot be trusted. A God who cannot be touched by suffering is a God who can heedlessly cause all sort of suffering. And we would be right to rail at Him: “What are we,” we might say “but pawns in a game, moved about to suit your purposes without any regard for our suffering.”

But the God of the cross is ultimately worthy of trust. For He has experienced our pain, has borne our pain, has drunk the full dregs of God’s wrath. He has suffered at man’s hand and at His own father’s hand. And it is He, who has for our sakes experienced pain beyond our comprehension, who now calls us through the pains of this world to take heart for He is using these light afflictions, which are but for a moment, to work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory (II Cor 4:17).

I could never myself trust in God, if it were not for the cross.

Yet because of the cross, I can make no better choice than to entrust my all to Him who bore my suffering.

(See more of my notes on The Cross of Christ.)

Does the cross promote pacifism?

August 16th, 2010

Notes on John Stott’s
The Cross of Christ
Chapter 12: Loving Our Enemies

Those of you who’ve been following me for a while know that I’m in a book club that’s reading Greg Boyd’s The Myth of a Christian Nation (our last meeting is tonight, boo-hoo.) Well, Boyd, who appears to be from an Anabaptist tradition, seems to be a pacifist (I’m reading the last chapter, about violence, right now).

If you’re at all familiar with my family, you know that I have two brothers in the Marines (currently, they’re “poolies”.) John leaves for training in October. Tim’ll leave in January.

And a few of you know that, over the past year, I’ve developed friendships with several people who ascribe to a basically pacifist or nonviolent position on the basis of their faith–in Christ.

It’s been an interesting process, sorting out my own thoughts in relation to pacifism and the cross and how the two relate–or if they relate.

I definitely don’t have it all figured out. I don’t have any problem with personally being non-violent (I don’t have any desire to join the military, etc.)–but I’m not sure if I’m ready to suggest that others should also subscribe to non-violence, or that I should promote non-violence as national policy, etc.

Of course, those are merely side issues compared to the big question that I’m wrestling with, that is: How does the cross inform a Christian’s involvement or non-involvement, support or opposition, approval or disapproval of war and other acts including violence? Or, to put it more simply: Does the cross promote pacifism?

Many of those within my book club (who tend towards non-violence) have said that they do believe in some concept of justified violence–that states have some authority to “wield the sword” (a la Romans 13) which results in violent acts of justice. The question, then, is whether Christians can and/or should be participants in this just violence. This has been my primary struggle.

John Stott addresses Christian involvement in state administration of justice (including via violent means) in The Cross of Christ:

“It is important to note that Paul uses the same vocabulary at the end of Romans 12 ['do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath'] and at the beginning of Romans 13 ['he is God's minister, an avenger to execute wrath']. The words ‘wrath’ (orge) and ‘revenge/punishment’ (ekdikesis and ekdikos) occur in both passages. Forbidden to God’s people in general, they are assigned to God’s ‘servants’ in particular, namely officials of the state. Many Christians find great difficulty in what they perceive here to be an ethical ‘dualism’. I should like to try to clarify this issue.

First, Paul is not distinguishing between two entities, church and state, as in Luther’s well-known doctrine of the two kingdoms…

Secondly, Paul is not distinguishing between two spheres of Christian activity, private and public, so that (to put it crudely) we must love our enemies in private but may hate them in public….

Thirdly, what Paul is doing is to distinguish between two roles, personal and official. Christians are always Christians (in church and state, in public and private), under the same moral authority of Christ, but are given different roles (at home, at work, and in the community) which make different actions appropriate. For example, a Christian in the role of a policeman may use force to arrest a criminal, which in the role of a private citizen he may not; he may as a judge condemn a prisoner…and he may as an executioner (assuming that capital punishment may in some circumstances be justified) kill… This is not to say that arresting, judging, and executing are in themselves wrong (which would establish different moralities for public and private life), but that they are right responses to criminal behavior, which however God has entrusted to particular officials of the state.”

~John Stott The Cross of Christ

This makes a lot of sense to me–but still leaves the question open in my mind: But should a Christian seek out “official” roles in which they must perform actions that are not permissible to them in their “personal” roles as private citizens and members of the body of Christ?

The Week in WordsSince bulk of this post is an extended quote from Chapter 12 of John Stott’s The Cross of Christ, I’m linking it up in lieu of my regular Week in Words post. Collect more quotes from throughout the week with Barbara H’s meme “The Week in Words”.

(See more of my notes on The Cross of Christ.)

***I’d also like to clarify that we should attempt to keep our comments Christ-honoring. I know that this is a topic that can get people riled up (I do, after all, belong to a military-ish family, and you know those pacifists :-P) But let’s try to be respectful.****

Self in light of the cross

August 13th, 2010

I’m three chapters from the end of The Cross of Christ–and I’m going to get it finished! Not that the book isn’t engaging. In fact, I’ve already finished reading the book–and have my notes all on paper. It’s just getting them on the computer that’s the problem. That and trying to figure out when to post them without loading you down with too many “thinking” posts. But I want to get them done by next Wednesday–so here goes!

Notes on John Stott’s
The Cross of Christ
Chapter 11: Self-Understanding and Self-Giving

The ways worldly people look at themselves can easily be divided into two broad categories: self-love or self-loathing.

The cross leaves room for neither.

Rather, the cross calls believers to a life of self-affirmation and self-denial.

It’s strange, isn’t it, to put those two together?

The world’s attitudes, self-love and self-hatred, are mutually exclusive–but they are both rooted in pride. The cross’s attitudes, self-affirmation and self-denial–despite their apparent contradiction–are complementary. Both of these are rooted in humility.

The cross’s self-affirmation is different than the world’s self-love. While the world encourages unconditional acceptance of self (both the good and the bad) as “self-esteem”, the cross affirms both the fallenness of self and its worth to God. The cross says that I have value, not because I am particularly special, but because God has valued me.

“As William Temple expressed it, ‘My worth is what I am worth to God; and that is a marvelous great deal, for Christ died for me.’”
~Quoted in John Stott’s The Cross of Christ

The cross’s self-denial is also different from the world’s self-hatred. While the world loathes itself and engages in self-destructive behaviors, the cross calls us to recognize and identify with Christ–and to “reckon [ourselves] dead to sin” (Romans 6:11).

The world’s view of self leads to self-centeredness. Either one idolizes self, placing self as lord and following its every whim, or one villifies self, making self the enemy and focusing energy on self-destruction.

The cross’s view of self, on the other hand, leads to others-centeredness. One’s self is affirmed–but not in such a way as to inspire self-worship. One’s self is denied–but not with self as its object. Rather, the affirmation of self leads to worship–and the denial of self to service.

It is in the cross that we lose our lives in order to gain them (Luke 17:33).

I love how C.S. Lewis describes the effect of right relationship with God on “self”:

“The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become….It is no good trying to ‘be myself’ without Him. The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires…It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own….Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look to Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.
~C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

(See more of my notes on The Cross of Christ.)

Bad news masquerading as good

August 12th, 2010

After making a flippant but completely uninformed remark about Joel Osteen (with whom I had no familiarity except a short video clip), I was convicted that I ought not criticize things/people I know nothing about. After all, one of the charges against the false prophets in Second Peter is that they “speak evil of the things they do not understand”.

I rescinded my flippant remark and said I would look into Osteen more before making an evaluation. Thus, I traveled to my local library and picked up one of Osteen’s books–Become a Better You.

What I found shocked me and troubled me deeply. In some ways, Osteen is just another prosperity preacher of the Word of Faith tradition. He confuses the promises of the gospel with the idea of self-fulfillment and turns God into a vending-machine in the sky. The so-called prosperity gospel is a disturbing corruption of the true gospel–but I’ve known many who ascribe to a version of the prosperity gospel who still maintain at least a degree of faithfulness to the true gospel: that Jesus Christ died to pay the penalty for sins, on our behalf, thus reconciling us to God.

I see no evidence that Osteen has maintained any modicum of the true gospel of Jesus Christ.

Instead, Osteen has replaced the gospel with an “I’m good, you’re good, we’re all good” self-esteem talk. He tells his readers that “God has already put in the talent, the creativity, the discipline, the wisdom, and the determination. It’s all in you.” “We have to believe that we have what it takes.” Over and over, he states that “God has placed the seeds of greatness inside of you”. He emphasizes the goodness of creation–but completely ignores the fall.

I almost thought he was going to address the fall when he refers to Adam and Eve hiding after eating the forbidden fruit. “Great,” I thought, “Now he’s going to tell them that the created goodness has been warped and twisted by sin, but that Jesus died to redeem us from that twistedness, to reverse sin.” Alas, it was not to be. Instead, Osteen uses God’s response to Adam and Eve (“Who told you that you were naked?”) as “proof” that they weren’t actually naked, that they were believing a lie from the enemy. Except that wasn’t a lie. They were naked. They had something to be ashamed of. They had something to hide. It wasn’t a lie. It was the truth.

Now, this might sound like a huge downer. Osteen’s got good news, I’m bearing bad. But am I?

You see, Osteen’s message of self-esteem and “you’re all good” is a cheap substitute for the truly good news. The good news is that while we were completely worthless, God endued us with worth by sending His Son to die for us. While we were incapable of helping ourselves, Jesus Christ made us new. The good news is that while we were yet dead in our sins, Christ died for us.

Osteen’s message skips the fall–and thus sees no need for the cross. In the first seventy pages of Become a Better You, Osteen mentions the cross exactly never–unless one considers this gem on page 35: “God gave His very best for you, His only Son.”

In ignoring the fall and the cross, Osteen leaves out the essence of Christianity. As Charles Spurgeon points out (HT: Justin Taylor):

“Yes, it is Christ, Christ, Christ whom we have to preach; and if we leave Him out, we leave out the very soul of the gospel.”

You do not really preach the gospel if you leave Christ out; if He be omitted, it is not the gospel. You may invite men to listen to your message, but you are only inviting them to gaze upon an empty table unless Christ is the very center and substance of all that you set before them.”

Want to become a better you? Osteen can’t help–he can only try to convince you that you’re actually not that bad. Only in Jesus Christ can bad become good and sinners saints. Denying sin will not make it go away, it will only lead us into delusion. Only by recognizing our sin and by faith receiving Christ’s work on the cross can we be made righteous.

The gospel that Osteen shares is not good news at all–it is bad news masquerading as good.

Heretic Hunting

August 11th, 2010

I try to diligently evaluate what I hear or read in light of God’s word. I desire to speak the truth in love, bringing correction when needed. Often, I am very bold when writing (as on this blog), and very timid when directly addressing someone (either in person or via online means).

But there’s one thing that I’ve been very, VERY wary of. I’ve been very uncomfortable with using the term “heretic” or accusing someone of being a “false teacher.” Either of these terms bring to mind witch hunts, burning at the stake, and other such things–in which someone is condemned to torture or death as a result of their beliefs. I don’t like it. I don’t like those terms, or their connotations, at all.

Which is why when I was recently going through a Bible study on II Peter, I got rather uncomfortable. In chapter 2, Peter is all over false prophets and false teachers, likening them to brute beasts made to be hunted and killed, calling them acne on the face of the body of Christ and wells without water. It’s not a pretty picture. Peter speaks of the false teachers’ sins (covetousness, exploitation, deception, denying Christ, despising authority, walking in the flesh, presumption, willfullness, speaking evil of dignitaries, etc.) and of their impending punishment (swift destruction, the wages of unrighteousness, blackness of darkness forever).

I might be afraid of the term “false teacher”, but Peter certainly wasn’t. John recognized that false prophets have gone out into the world, and warned the church to test the spirits to see whether they were from God (I John 4:1-3). In 2 Corinthians 11:13, Paul condemns the false apostles who try to commend themselves to the Corinthian church. In Galatians 2:4, Paul speaks of the Judaizers as being “false brethren” who “came in by stealth to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage.”

False prophets, false teachers, false apostles exist. They seek to bring people into bondage to a gospel that is not the gospel at all (Galatians 1:6-9). They seek to deceive, if possible, even the elect (Mark 13:22). However, the Judge of the world is not slow–He has a judgment reserved for these false teachers, a horrible punishment.

Okay, so…false teachers exist. It says so in Scripture. False teachers aren’t just a myth made up by the superstitious, witch-hunting, unenlightened masses. They’re real. They’re dangerous.

And what on earth are Christians supposed to do about them?

Scripture gives us some direction as to how we are to deal with false teachers (thankfully, Scripture does not suggest that we burn them at the stake or otherwise torture them).

First, we are to recognize them. Romans 16:17 says to “note those who cause divisions and offenses, contrary to the doctrine which you learned”. I John 4:1 tells us to test the spirits, and then gives us a litmus test by which we may know deceptive spirits from the Spirit of God:

“By this you know the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God, and every spirit that does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is not of God.”
~I John 4:2-3

Thus, the primary means by which we can recognize a false teacher is a denial of the incarnation of Christ. Other mentions of false teachers and false “gospels” throughout the New Testament give additional characteristics of false teachers: they deny the centrality of the cross and insist upon good works (Galatians 1-2), they deny the Lord who bought them (2 Peter 2:1), they walk according to the flesh and despise authority (2 Peter 2:10), they promise liberty but actually enslave to lust (2 Peter 2:18-20).

The second thing believers are to do with false teachers is to avoid them. I Timothy 6:3-5 says that “If anyone teaches otherwise and does not consent to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which accords with godliness….from such withdraw yourself.” Romans 16:17 urges the believers to “avoid them.” II John 10-11 tells believers not to greet or receive into their house the one who teaches a doctrine contrary to the doctrine of Christ, lest they become participants in the false teacher’s sin.

Finally, we are to combat false teaching by speaking truth. This charge is particularly true for leaders within the church. Paul charges Titus in Titus 2:1 that he “speak the things which are proper for sound doctrine.” An elder is supposed to hold fast the faithful word he has been taught, so “that he may be able, by sound doctrine, both to exhort and convict those who contradict.” (Titus 1:9). Timothy was to “charge some that they teach no other doctrine, nor give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which cause disputes rather than godly edification which is in faith.” (I Timothy 1:3-4) All believers are called to “hold fast” to sound doctrine (Phil. 2:16, I Thess 5:21, II Thess 2:15, II Tim 1:13-14).

Interestingly, we are never called to pass judgment on false teachers or heretics. Instead, we know from Scripture that they are already under the judgment of God–but that God delays in sending His judgment because He is merciful and desirous that none should perish (2 Peter 3:5-9.) Our role is not to pass judgment on them, but to “beware lest you also fall from your own steadfastness, being led away with the error of the wicked; but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 2:17-18)

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