Sermons at Christ Reformed

Acts 3: Worshiping God for the First Time (Acts 3)

Sun, 21 Aug 2011 07:15:13 -0400

Texts: Acts 3; Isaiah 35

Introduction

Do you remember the first time you ever stepped foot in a church? The first time you ever entered a house of God and worshiped? Probably not… I for one don’t. Maybe you were a baby, and don’t recall. Maybe you don’t associate worship with a building, so you have no particular recollection of stepping across that threshold, approaching a holy place, where you could sense the tangible presence of God.

The man at the center of our story today, lame from birth, most assuredly did remember his first day in the house of the Lord, for it was that day of his healing, it was that we read about this morning in our lesson from Acts. This is the miracle at the heart of our story, for New Testament miracles aren’t primarily about the healing, or the power. They are about what they reveal, and what they demonstrate. They teach their audience — us — about the redemption of our Lord. They open our eyes by their power to amaze — to the glories of the resurrection life.

Think of the power of worshiping God for the for the first time, as an adult, after longing to do so for a lifetime. For this man was carried daily to the gate of the temple not merely because it was an ideal place to beg alms — a place of maximum traffic. But he was carried to the gate of the temple — and no further — because he was forbidden from entering in. Leviticus 21 was understood as banning all men with any blemish from approaching near to the altar, the holy place of God:

For no one who has a blemish shall draw near, a man blind or lame, or one who has a mutilated face or a limb too long, or a man who has an injured foot or an injured hand, or a hunchback or a dwarf or a man with a defect in his sight or an itching disease or scabs or crushed testicles. … he shall not go through the veil or approach the altar, because he has a blemish, that he may not profane my sanctuaries, for I am the LORD who sanctifies them." So Moses spoke to Aaron and to his sons and to all the people of Israel.

The Law demanded purity; purity of soul and body. “Who sinned, this man, or his parents?” the disciples asked Jesus, when they came upon a man blind from birth. For it was clear that blindness was a curse. It was punishment for a sin. It was defilement. And the holiness of God is an awesome thing. Those who are defiled, may not approach the altar. They may not profane the Lord’s sanctuaries. And for an Israelite man, that meant that he may not worship as he was commanded in the law.

Lame limbs, blind eyes, were a double curse. The demands of the Law put all who lived under it in lifelong slavery, but what cruelty, what wickedness to keep the weakest, the poorest, the most vulnerable from seeing the altar of God, from smelling the sprinkled blood and the burning animals that alone could atone for the sin that stained them. What cruelty for the lame boy, going up to the temple with his father at each of the three annual feasts, to be left outside at the gate, while his father went in to worship. Left outside at the gate, there to learn how to beg. Left outside, outside where even the Gentiles, and women, could go further and behold the holy place of God, if only from without.

The lame man that Peter and John met as they were going up into the temple — how many times had they walked past him before? Peter now sees him, and the temple, with new eyes. This lame man had never entered into the house of God, never worshiped according to the dictates of the Law, had never had the privilege of bringing there a guilt offering for his sins. He was unforgiven, unholy, defiled, cursed. What could the Law do for him? What could it offer? Only alms, silver and gold to preserve his life, extend his suffering, keep him living one more day in the fear of death.

The Temple

Luke the historian and doctor is also an evangelist. He tells us of this miracle, at this point in his story, for great effect.

There is great drama in the Bible, and in our story today. We do the bible such a disservice when we turn it into a textbook of doctrine, or a manual of morals and ethical improvement. It is a dramatic story, by which I don’t mean fiction, but rather a narrative of great events all the more wondrous because they take place in history. And the key dramatic element is the reversal. The Lord of glory took on sinful flesh, was born in a manger, suffered and died and was risen again that we might live. He who knew no sin, became sin, that we might be forgiven. Jesus throned on a tree. The twist of this plot is one that no sinner could invent, or imagine, or hope to be true.

And Luke is a great dramatist. All Jerusalem is humming with excitement. Yes, Jesus has been dead a few months, but there’s a new charismatic leader on the scene, new wonders occurring, a great blast from heaven announcing the beginning of something new, the fulfillment of prophecy, talk of the day of the Lord, the day of judgment coming. Peter, now in his second scene, holds the spotlight front and center. And he has a sidekick… John is by his side. Why? Peter, and John, and the lame man. And finally, Jesus is present too, in the preaching of Peter, not abstractly, but concretely. The long-promised seed of Abraham, suffering, dying, glorified. Rejected and denied, risen from the dead. Healing by faith. Received and hidden in the heavens, but coming again to restore all things. Jesus. Look how he’s described: a prophet like Moses, the Servant of the Lord, the Holy and Righteous One of Israel, the Author of Life, the one who makes the weak, strong. He is the Savior. You could not paint a more vibrant, dramatic picture of Jesus, the crucified and risen Lord, even if he was on the center of the stage. But he is on the center of the stage, because that is where Peter puts him.

Peter, the Lame Man, Jesus, John, the Men of Israel, all gathered on the stage. And what a stage. Indeed, the stage — the temple — is the final dramatic element. It is a character in this scene. Six times in the recounting of this miracle does Luke mention the temple, like bookends at the beginning and end he describes the lame man as the one who sat at the Beautiful gate of the temple.

What was the temple? The book of Hebrews describes it in detail, and calls it a copy and a shadow of the heavenly things. It is an earthly place of holiness, so designated by the regulations of the first covenant. The temple Luke describes, the temple as rebuilt by Herod — dwarfing Washington’s monuments, and built on a mountain, not a swamp — would have risen on the temple mount and been visible for miles around, even like the great cathedrals of Europe, our National Cathedral here, visible as I drove in this morning. It had an outer courtyard, the Court of the Gentiles, almost a quarter mile square, and accessible by people of all nations, though probably not the lame. Beyond that, separated by a gate, it had an inner Court of the Women of the nation of Israel, and beyond that, separated by another gate, the Court of the Men, accessible only to male Jews. Finally, the priestly court, where the sacrifices would have been offered, and then the Holy Place, and the most Holy Place, the Holy of Holies, the Sancta Sanctorum. And there only the High Priest could approach, and that only once a year, and that not without taking blood offered for his sins, and the sins of all the people.

What was this temple? Hebrews tells us it was, finally, a lesson, whereby the Holy Spirit was teaching us that the way into the Holy Place was not yet open. The gates and curtains of the temple were a testimony to unforgiven sin — sin that cried out for blood year after year. They were obstacles to access to God. It was a symbol of the present age, and growing obsolete. Jew, Gentile, woman, lame man. No one could enter. All were waiting for the blood of Christ, offered without blemish to God.

What a setting for the first miracle of the new age. What a subject for this wonder, the lame man known, identified as the one who sits outside the gate called Beautiful. The defiled, now made whole.

Signs and Wonders

Three times we have heard about “signs and wonders” on the day of Pentecost. First prophesied by Joel as a sign of the Day of the Lord, then Peter bearing witness that Jesus was attested by performing signs and wonders, and then those being done by the Apostles. This episode is the first of many recounted in acts as an example of these Apostolic signs and wonders.

Healing is not the purpose of these miracles. If it were, the Apostles would heal all, indiscriminately. Jesus did not come to bring full health to Israel, and indeed, Peter says plainly that the time for restoring all things is yet to come. So these miracles are a foretaste, and they serve the purpose as attesting Jesus as the fulfillment of the prophetic promise — and by extension the Apostles as emissaries of Jesus. They also signify something. Thus, the lame man entering the temple, praising God for the first time tells us that Jesus has opened the way to the Holy Place, not just for the priests, or the Pharisees, but for the most defiled of sinners. Yes, even for you.

The result of this wonder is to fill the witnesses with wonder and amazement. Luke draws attention to its power to amaze. His is a notorious ailment… not some passing disease, but a lifelong infirmity, known by all. He can’t even make it to his place of begging without assistance, and he draws to mind the paralytic who is brought to Jesus through the roof of the crowded home, whose sins are forgiven as a testimony of Christ’s divinity.

The dialogue is dramatic. Peter notices him, he sets his gaze on him. Peter is viewing the temple in a different way. Filled himself with the Holy Spirit, the very shekinah glory cloud that filled the temple on the day of its dedication, he knows the temple is no longer a barrier to God’s holiness — it cannot be. It is no longer a protective capsule keeping holy wrath inside, and defilement outside. It is rather a sign and promise of Christ — now fulfilled — a reminder of the one true sacrifice, and Peter knows from Jesus’ own ministry that he came to heal the sick, not those who thought they were well. The holiness of God was not a threat… it was a promise.

And it was for such as these. “Look at us.” The cripple snaps out of his routine babbling. “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” And the lame man leaped up, and entered the temple for the first time. For like the paralytic, his sins were forgiven. His defilement was lifted.

As Isaiah had prophesied, the lame man leaped like a deer, and a highway in the wilderness was opened up, called the Way of Holiness. No unclean man shall pass over it, but the redeemed shall walk there, and the ransomed of the Lord shall come to Zion with singing. What did Jesus say when the followers of John came to him and asked whether he was the promised one? "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them.”

Silver and Gold

An old Roman Catholic commentator tells the story of Thomas Aquinas going to visit the Pope, Innocent II, and entering his chamber as he was counting money. The Pope says “See Thomas, the Church can no longer say, ‘silver and gold have I none.’” To which Thomas replied, “Nor can she say, ‘Rise up and Walk.’” Protestant commentators were harsher yet on the medieval church’s riches, Calvin noting the hypocrisy of the Pope, who references this text while he dispenses blessings on one hand, then turns and makes a great show of his wealth as proof of his being the vicar of Christ on the other. It is interesting that the preceding verses referenced the selling of possessions, so there were none that had need with any lack. Couldn’t Peter have paid his alm? Shouldn’t he have taken the churches collection to that place where he knew the beggars would be, where he could do the most good?

Yet he did not. Luke’s demonstrates rather how Peter is fulfilling his Apostolic calling, the great commission of Luke 24:

"Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high."

These words in passing don’t prove the church never has anything to do with material relief, yet this sign reveals the fundamental nature of the kingdom as spiritual.

So Peter frequents prayer time in the temple, going two by two with John as he was sent by Jesus, bearing witness to the cross, and repentance and forgiveness of sins. This wondrous sign is a gift of the Spirit for the purposes of that testimony and proclamation. Which is why the result of this miracle is not the setting up of a medical clinic, but the preaching of a sermon. The kingdom is not about silver and gold, it is about repentance and the forgiveness of sins.

Proclamation

We saw on Pentecost that Apostolic preaching was marked by three characteristics: promise & fulfillment; a focus on the cross and resurrection of Christ (suffering and glory), and law & gospel. He maintains that same focus here.

Jesus is the servant of the Lord, promised by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He is the one foretold by the mouth of the prophets, and his promised suffering has been fulfilled. He is the prototypical prophet like Moses, raised up from among the people at a moment of judgment, and now he stands before them in the proclamation of Peter, demanding of all Israel a decision: Who do you say that I am? Every soul that does not listen to that prophet shall be destroyed from the people. These days, these wonders, were foretold by every prophet, from Moses, to Samuel, to the very last, John the Baptist. Indeed, Peter here invokes the covenant — pointedly, the covenant made with Abraham, that in his seed, or offspring, would all the families of the earth be blessed. Luke is foreshadowing the great theme of Acts, and the New Testament, namely, the progress of the Gospel from the Jews in Jerusalem to the gentiles, and the universal blessing of the families of the earth.

Peter again preaches the cross as a source of judgment for his audience. God has glorified the one you delivered over and denied and made to suffer. The cross is the very center of the great reversal, and Peter — chief apostle, and chief sinner, chief denier of his Lord — Peter relishes the great reversal. You asked for a murderer as a gift — the word is related to “grace” — and killed the author of life.

You got it entirely backwards, and upside down, yet God reversed your error. And his name is the name we must call on to be saved; faith in his name is powerful to save, to make whole, to purify. As Peter talked, they saw the lame man clinging to him, coming from his first worship service, purified. Proof of the power of the name, not a magical incantation, but saving faith.

Law and Gospel

You delivered over and denied God’s holy one, says Peter, who himself denied. Peter, who stood condemned and was yet restored, must have been a great preacher of the cross. For he understood that the cross was meant to be preached as an offense, as a cursed thing, that revealed the great curse of sin. He understood that the cross condemned us — it is the great verdict of the Law against our sin. It is our judgment that we see there nailed to that tree, as Paul says, that there the verdict against us is nailed in the flesh of Jesus. And only when you taste the bitterness of that verdict — the wormwood and the gall — do you know the sweetness of faith.

To this we are witnesses, Peter says. To the bitterness of the cross, and the sweetness of faith, of the Gospel. Do you see how this sign and wonder points to the cross? To faith? Faith has made this man strong — this man whom you see and know — it has made him whole. Perfect health in the presence of all. The prophetic word is before you. You are without excuse. Turn now to him. Believe. Receive his restoration. Or stand condemned.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 2d: What is the Church?

Sun, 14 Aug 2011 14:30:01 -0400

Texts: Acts 2:42 - 47; Psalm 87

Introduction

I am a recovering evangelical.

Among other things, this means that a centerpiece of my religious experience during high school and college at a camp called “Alpine, in the mountains near Big Bear Lake, in Southern California — a week in the summer, a long weekend in the winter. Ultimately, I graduated to serving as a camp counselor.

Camp was fun. I made my very best friends at Alpine, met my first girlfriend. The week was full of activities, bonding, and competition. But central to camp, the purpose of the whole thing, was the religious experience, what my friends and I — by the time we were wizened, 17 year old veterans — somewhat cynically called the “mountain top experience.” As a counselor, I realized that the events of the entire week — the singing, games, late-nights, revelations (what Charles Finney called “excitements”) — were calibrated to create an emotional build-up crucial to the mountain top experience. Through exhaustion and adrenaline they created spiritual high that almost inevitably led to a final, tear-wrought moment of commitment, or re-commitment — a conversion experience — on the closing night of camp. And the commitment was our own, a commitment to love god, to live life for him, to really mean it, to give up the pornography, the drugs, the rock and roll. Whatever sin afflicted you.

I now understand this camp experience as a direct inheritance of revivalism. The goal was evangelistic, parents converting their children, children converting their friends. But we subjects of this this evangelistic experience — the wizened 17 year olds — soon discovered the problem that Finney had discovered a hundred years before. The effects of the mountain top experience were temporary. We serious student-leaders wondered how long our newly-converted friends would continue to attend church with us after we got back down — two weeks? Three? How would we fare when we got back down to living among the temptations of life?

My childhood camp experiences were brought to mind by our text today, our fourth and final reading on Pentecost. As an evangelical, I understood the day of Pentecost as the uber-Mountain-Top Experience, the great model of spiritual excitements producing the beneficial fruits of conversion and repentance and a newly pious life. All that was missing from the description of communal “camp” life described here at the end of Acts 2 is the singing of kum ba yah.

On this reading, the problem of the mountain top experience was lived out on the grand scale in the history of the church. On this reading — the revivalist, evangelical one — the problem with christianity today is that we live down in the valley, too far from the mountain-top, and its communal adrenaline. More often than not, the ordinary operation of the church is part of this problem. The preaching of the Word, celebration of the Sacraments, Discipline, institutional order, all these boring, predictable elements detract from the fundamental excitement and energy we need to live as faithful followers of Christ. The history of evangelicalism is the history of the pursuit of the spiritual high, the search for the latest and greatest excitement.

Boy, was I wrong. And I was wrong because I read the bible as an incurable individualist. I searched the scriptures for the recipe to help me fulfill my commitment to God, my promise to live a better life. I never realized it was the story of His promise, his commitment to add me to the number of the saints, to build his heavenly kingdom right here, right now. Down in the valley, amid my failings, and my temptations.

What’s striking about the day of Pentecost is not the great excitement, the great piety this excitement inspired among the three thousand souls. What’s striking about the day of Pentecost is how the Lord’s Spirit immediately expresses itself in a common life of remarkable predictability, and began working to build the church by the means of preaching and teaching and fellowship and baptism and the Lord’s Supper and Christian worship. The life of the church as a new society founded in Word and Sacrament and Public Prayer is not some late adaptation to the Spirit’s fading power, it is the manifestation of this power at its root, its core. It is the essence of it.

What is the Church? It is the Spirit dwelling with his people.

The Response

Our text today is Luke’s concluding description of the fruits of Pentecost, the feast of first-fruits. We see in these closing lines three things: the immediate response to Peter’s preaching, a description of the activities of the new community that formed as a result of that response, and the impact and interaction of this community with the world in which it lived. I want to look at each of these.

First, note the preached word as the Spirit’s chosen instrument. Jesus said the promised helper would convict us of our sins, and here we see that Peter’s sermon has precisely this effect. This is the result of Law and Gospel preaching, where our sin and its troublesome fruits are — often rather painfully — brought to our attention, and then the divine solution provided. I have been told that I preach too much of sin. I have been told that sermons about sin aren’t what everyone is looking for. This doesn’t surprise me, because whatever it means to be “cut to the heart,” it’s clear that it entails pain.

But it is a pain that inspires action. The purpose is not to revel in our sins, to grovel in our depravity. The purpose is for all of us — converted and unconverted — to ask, “What shall we do?”

The answer is repent and be baptized, baptized into the name of Jesus Christ. This is how you are liberated from this pain, how your sins are forgiven. There is no other way.

Now, as an evangelical I read these words as a rugged American individualist. I read them as a recipe, as a command to do something. I have to repent (turn from sinful ways). I have to be baptized (i.e., publicly commit to follow Jesus). But biblically, I see now that what is in view is birth and membership in a new community. Saving myself from a crooked generation by faith and repentance is the direct result of God calling me to himself, repentance and faith are his instruments to doing so, to adding me to the number.

What we see here at the conclusion of Peter’s Pentecost sermon is a citizenship ceremony, not unlike the welcoming of immigrants to this land. It is the enrollment of thousands of new saints in the heavenly city of Zion. This is the city in which you were born — born again, born of God, born from above — the city in which men and women from every people and tribe are naturalized citizens by a heavenly birth. And the Lord records and registers his peoples. He adds each one of us to his number. The Most High establishes not only us, but establishes her, and adds us as members of her, the glorious, heavenly city He has founded.

So the call to repent and be baptized is the call to join the church. And this is precisely what baptism would have entailed. As Luke details in the following section, it is to be saved out of the crooked generation in which we live, to be devoted to a new way of life, a new practice. It is to set our sights on heaven above. Like those new Americans who have crossed the sea and left their homeland behind, it is to embrace the ways of a new and foreign home, to talk, think, and act in a new and different way.

What is the Church?

How does Luke describe this new community, this heavenly city of Zion to which we all now belong? Very simply, and clearly. His first sentence identifies four elements, in two groups, as a sort of a summary: “And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” These four elements further manifest themselves in unity, and are expressed both publicly, and privately.

First, not to be overlooked is devotion. Joining this heavenly society is a weighty matter. We should expect it to reorient our lives. In a day and age where our affections are accustomed to flitting from one fad to the next, when we are free to “like” both Beethoven and Bad Company on Facebook, our Lord and Savior demands devotion. We are not just adding a new club membership to our resume, to our list of affections. As the hymn says, love so amazing, so divine, demands our soul, our life, our all.

And the first thing we are devoted to in this new society is the Apostle’s teaching. That is, doctrine. Again, this is a counter-cultural conception. Most Americans subscribe to the “deeds, not creeds” view of Christianity, which supposes an opposition between the two. Far from opposition, however, we see here a union between teaching and fellowship, the loving interaction among the saints that is the foundational “deed” by which the early church was to be known. Not only are creeds and deeds not antithetical, they are related. Furthermore, Calvin sees in this listing an intentional ordering, a suggestion that the apostolic teaching is indeed the very core and essence of the church, and that ultimately which gives forth to all true fellowship and unity among the body of Christ. The breaking of bread and the prayers confirm and clarify this teaching, and flow from it.

The next two characteristics are the breaking of bread and the prayers. The breaking of bread is Luke’s term for the Lord’s Supper, the prayers are the publicly offered prayers of the church, the divine service of worshiop. Thus within a few lines after the conclusion of Peter’s sermon we see mentioned the establishement of the two sacraments — baptism and the Lord’s Supper — as a regular practice among the first believers of Christ. This is, of course, in obedience to Christ’s own command. Of all the many things churches do today, these are the two that Christ clearly directed us to do, in obedience and remebrance of his death and resurrection, suffering and glory.

If we are commanded to join the church as a means of saving ourselves from a wicked generation, a very practical question we might ask ourselves is “Which church?” We think of that as a modern question, a result of the Reformation. The church of Rome, or Geneva? The church of Wesley, or Calvin? But it is an ancient question. The hearers of Peter’s sermon faced this question, do we worship Christ with the Pharisees, the Sadducees, or this new Way? And Peter called them out, and Luke gives a clear description of what a true church looks like. The Reformation echoed Luke in its teaching of the marks of the church — the Word rightly preached, according to the apostolic teaching. The sacraments faithfully administered, according to Christ’s own command. The fellowship of our Lord’s body faithfully expressed, in a godly and disciplined church. This is a practical question.

Unity

Devotion to the teaching of the apostles, fellowship with the saints, breaking bread and praying in common common public worship, all effect unity among the body of Christ. The Lord calls us “to himself,” and as we are in Christ by faith, we are members one with the other. A body is one, a unit. Given the choice of losing an arm or a leg, it does not calculate which is more or less valuable. It fights like mad, gives its all, to preserve each and every member entire. For it loves and cares for the body whole.

And so, those who were added to the number of the church were of one mind, and had all things in common. As any had need, and another had possessions, they sold the one to provide for the other. They shared meals in their homes. They were glad for the food they received, and generous in sharing all things. In this description, bread and food are a central concern, as is fitting for a largely subsistent audience were merely getting enough food to eat was the dominant concern of human existence. The body of Christ, the church, feeds itself without distinction among its members.

Calvin notes that this expression of mutual fellowship and love in the church with their material possessions is open to fanatical extremes. This is not a justification for the common life of monasticism, as most monks never sell their possessions and give them to the poor. In Calvin’s day, they were some of the wealthiest and best fed members of society. Nor is it a recipe for forced socialism, governmental or otherwise. For people have possessions to sell; they sell them only as need arises. They break bread with one another in their own, private homes. And in the following chapters, two examples of those selling their possessions — Joseph, called Barnabas, and Ananias and Sapphira — are singled out. There were none in need, for as needs arose, they were met.

At least two practical questions arise. First, we must be clear that we follow this practice here, at Christ Reformed. Though we are small, and still needy as a church for our operating expenses, we ask that when material need arise in our members you bring it to the church, your elders, or deacons. We will do everything in our power to see that your needs are met, and we will work to help address those needs in the long term, and we do so through the operation of our deacons.

Second, the question of tithing arises. There is some disagreement about this matter, but in my view the demands of christian love and fellowship among the body of Christ far exceed a ten percent tithe. No offering is “enough,” such that “the rest” belongs to you alone. All you have is from God, and it remains his possession. The tithe, indeed, may in principle serve as a good guide to regular support for the local church. But it is not a law to be fulfilled that sets aside your material obligations to care for one another. This is the other extreme opposed by the text… that there is anything that you have that is your own.

Public and Private

Note that the church gathered both in the temple, and in their homes. The life of the church is expressed publicly, outwardly, and privately. If Christ had fulfilled the shadows of the Law, why were they in the temple daily? It was, in Jerusalem, the fittest place for thousands of new converts to gather and learn at the feet of the apostles. It was also the natural place to continue the proclamation and exhortation to the jews to accept their messiah. The church was about evangelism here in Jerusalem, even as Paul in Athens would go to Mars Hill, the place where people gathered and talked about things of great moment. The love and care of the church — for one another, and for the salvation of their countrymen — was their great mark in the world.

And we see here glimpses of how this witness to the world was received. It was based on a preaching of radical antithesis, calling for everyone to repent and be saved from a crooked generation. It was viewed with awe, the signs and wonders of the apostles serving the same purpose of the signs and wonders of Jesus, that the signs and wonders foretold by the prophet Joel had been fulfilled, that the Day of the Lord was at hand.

The household of God showed favor — grace — toward all people. For we are people of grace, and it is a gracious kingdom which we have inherited. It is difficult to be in the business of politics, or war — literal, or metaphorical — and show grace to all. Far too often, Christians today give offense, and not only for the sake of Christ, or his cross. We give offense by fighting for our values, our rights, our voice in the public square. Can we really preach the cross and show favor toward all people — all peoples — in this age of multiculturalism, when so many in the world are crooked, are opposed to the city of God? We must.

Growth

We have take as our motto First Corinthians 3.7 — “God gives the growth.” And here we see that this recipe — Word, Sacrament, Fellowship, Worship — was God’s recipe for success. The New Testament does not send us forth as religious entrepreneurs. Not we, but the Lord, grows his church, and he does so through his ordinary, prescribed means. “There is no salvation outside the church” is an ancient motto affirmed by Augustine, and echoed by the Reformers. Though abused by Rome, it expresses what is said plainly by Luke here today: “And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved.” Those who are saved, are saved in the church, through the church, by its faithful adherance to the Lord’s commands.

For though it will be peopled by Jew and Gentile, men and women of every race, and every tongue, of every nation — Eritrean, Dutch, American, African — of Zion it will be said, “This one was born there.” “That one was born in her.” For we are established by the most high, he reigns bread upon us as manna upon his people in the wilderness. All our springs, all our life, all our joy, our found in her.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 2c: This Jesus Whom You Crucified, God Raised Up (2:14 - 41)

Sun, 31 Jul 2011 14:21:25 -0400

Texts: Acts 2:14 - 41; Psalm 16

Analyzing an Apostolic Sermon

Every once in a while at Christ Reformed I like to reverse the typical order, and explain the text, before I read it. This is fitting this week, as this will allow Peter’s sermon on Pentecost to stand on its own, in the place, as it were, of a sermon of my own.

Almost a third of the book of Acts is made of up of the texts of sermons. Think about what that says about the significance of the preached Word in the establishment, growth, and prospering of Christ’s church. If Acts tells the story of how Jesus is building his church through his Spirit, then it is also the story of how that Spirit is particularly wedded to this means of grace. Luke writes in chapter 13:

And when the Gentiles heard this, they began rejoicing and glorifying the word of the Lord, and as many as were appointed to eternal life believed. And the word of the Lord was spreading throughout the whole region.

It is as though the Lord himself is present when his word is preached, and he is. They glorify the word of the Lord, in the same way they glorify the Lord. The Word spreads, even as the Lord himself spreads his kingdom.

Think of the practical significance. Luke has recorded for us here a manual of preaching, it is the exercise book of the Apostles, as they apply what they learned during those forty days from their risen Lord, when he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.

How often in our day do we hear sermons such as those preached by Peter, or Paul, or Stephen, in the pages of Acts? This is not a matter of inspiration, friends. How often do preachers even try to preach as Peter, or Stephen, or Paul? The problem is not ability, it is lack of confidence, lack of faith, in the power of the message of the cross. It is lack of faith that Christ crucified, the simple story of the old rugged cross, is what the Spirit uses to convict sinners of their guilt and shame — to pierce them through, as Peter says here. Yet it is this message that the Spirit uses to create faith in our hearts, as our catechism says. Nevertheless preachers abandon this message, turning to therapy, moralism, stories and jokes about our lives, our struggles, encouraging our narcissism, instead of building up our faith in the crucified and risen Lord.

And so the book of Acts is a manual of preaching. Of course, most of you are not preachers. You don’t need to learn how to preach. But you do need to learn how to read the Bible, and understand it. You also need to learn how to hear a sermon, to know what to look for in a sermon, so that you may well receive the feast that is set before you each time we gather — a feast, believe me, not of my own making, but comprised of the very bread of life. You must learn how to receive it, and digest it, that you may be nourished.

What to Look for in Peter’s Sermon

And so, as you prepare to hear Peter’s sermon, try to listen as though for the first time. Listen as though he was standing in your midst. And I want you to listen for these things:

1. The centrality of the Word and Sacraments as means of grace
2. The Pattern of Promise and Fulfillment
3. The Centrality of the Cross and the Pattern Suffering and Glory
4. The Distinction Between Law and Gospel

Word and Sacrament

Throughout the book of Acts, if you listen for it, you will be amazed by the prevalence and centrality of the Word. Listen how both Luke and Peter emphasize this in the preaching and telling of the story:

But Peter, standing with the eleven, lifted up his voice and addressed them: "Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and give ear to my words. 15For these people are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. 16But this is what was uttered through the prophet Joel:

Four times in these opening verses he draws our attention to what is said, uttered, heard. To the word. And of course, what was uttered by the Prophet Joel was a prophesy about… prophesy. The words heard by the crowd, each in their own language, is the miracle of Pentecost, it is what causes the crowds to gather. It is the Lord’s call to worship, the blessing on all flesh that is the reversal of the curse of the Tower of Babel.

♣ 14, give ear to my words
♣ 16, uttered by the prophet joel
♣ 17 – 18, prophesy.
♣ 21, call upon the name of the Lord
♣ 22, hear these words
♣ 29, I say to you with confidence
♣ 30, sworn with an oath
♣ 32, we are witnesses
♣ 33, seeing and hearing
♣ 40, with many other words

Notice, too, the instrumentality of the word. This is what Reformed theology talks about the Preaching of the Word as a means of grace.

♣ 37, when they heard…
♣ 41, those who received his word

The people are cut to the heart when they hear the word, the word is what cuts them. Those who “receive the word” are baptized.

But it is not the bare word that we see at work in Acts 2. The word is working, in conjunction with the sacrament, and ever it is so in the pages of the New Testament: “So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.” And they were added for what purpose? they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

The centrality of the sacrament is an embarrassment to the practice of the church today. Of all the myriad things we do — programs and small groups and weight loss and self help and cultural renewal — of all these things, there are two that Jesus clearly commanded for the strengthening of our faith, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. “Do this,” he said. And of all the myriad things we do today in the broader church, there are two that we see in the first two sentences after the first evangelistic sermon of the New Testament. So they were baptized… and they devoted themselves to the breaking of bread.

o Sacrament — But it is not the bare word

♣ 38, Repent and be baptized
♣ 41, those who received word were baptized… souls were added
♣ 42, devoted to teaching, fellowship, breaking of bread, and prayers.

“So what?” you might ask. “How does word and sacrament comfort us?” Such a modern question. What’s in it for me? First off, we may know that we are doing precisely what our Lord commanded, and we will know that what we are doing has his blessing. That’s a great comfort. Isn’t it wonderful, as well, that there is no burden put on us to determine the delivery mechanism for this good news? Revivalism, and by extension evangelicalism, spends vast resources coming up with new and improved ways of living the Gospel. We can save those resources, trust in the Lord’s provision, and spend our energy devoting ourselves to the apostle’s teaching, to fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer. Praise God.

Promise and Fulfillment

Now, about that teaching. There are three clear hallmarks that we see in various ways throughout acts, and they are all in fulfillment to Christ’s own instruction in Luke 24. It is almost as though Luke is telling us something, and trying to help keep the church on task in its preaching. And these are: Promise & Fulfillment, Suffering & Glory, and Law & Gospel.

About a third of Peter’s sermon is quoted text from the Old Testament. We see here long quotations from Joel 2 and Psalm 16, as well as a shorter quote from Psalm 110, and an allustion to Psalm 132 and other texts.

It was not for no reason that Jesus spent his resurrected hours on earth teaching his Apostles how to read and understand the Old Testament. This was to be their job in establishing the church. And so in obedience to him they preach Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ, who fulfilled every promise on every page of the Old Testament, from the Law of Moses to the Prophets to the Psalms and writings. This is the whole Old Testament. The things in all the Scriptures that speak of Christ were set forth.

So, Peter, filled with the Spirit, says of Joel: “This is what was uttered by the prophet,” this is what he was talking about. We are living in the last days. The wonders in the heavens above, and the signs on the earth below have been manifested in our midst. Jesus himself has been attested with mighty works and wonders and signs. The name of the Lord that we shall call upon to be saved, we know it now not only as Yahweh, Adonai, but also Jesus of Nazareth, and I call on you in this hour to repent and be baptized in that name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, to be saved.

This pattern of promise and fulfillment proclaimed by the Apostles is a bold claim about every page of the Old Tetsament, and how it is to be understood. It is often said that the Psalter is an anatomy of the human soul, expresses all human emotions. It may do so. But Peter says that David is a prophet, that he was not talking ultimately about his own emotions, his own struggles and joys, but about Christ. Sermons on the Psalms or any other Old Testament text that tell you how to deal with stress, that tell you how to exercise leadership, or show how to be a good businessman… if those sermons don’t tell you that the primary message of those texts is about Jesus, they are false. Jesus calls the disciples on the road to Emmaus “unbelieving,” because they thought the Old Testament was about them, not Christ.

You see this pattern in our worship here at Christ Reformed, as we read each week from the Old and New Testaments, we pray each week that the Lord would give us understanding of these promises and shadows in the Old Testament, even as he did for the Apostles. And we pray for illumination, that we might read these New Testament texts as the fulfillment of God’s age old plan.

Why does it matter, one might ask. Isn’t this a dry, academic undertaking, to connect old and new testament text, to comb our cross-references in our Bibles. And yet, here on full display for our encouragement is “definite plan and foreknowledge of God,” His longsuffering, patient kindness and mercy. His endurance of our wanderings. The searching of the Good Shepherd long and hard for his lost sheep, hunting high and low to bring them home. Here is His wisdom.

And, don’t forget, there is the grave of David, that old Messiah. There are his bones. There is a ruined wall of a stone temple, on the evening news, with people superstitiously shoving scrawled prayers into its cracks. We worship this Jesus God raised up, He is the true and only temple, the very cornerstone of a living temple into which we ourselves are being built up into like living stones, in which we worship as holy priests. The pattern of promise and fulfillment keeps our eyes on heaven, on Jesus, and reminds us that we can never go back.

Suffering and Glory

“Was it not necessary,” Jesus said “that the Christ should suffer, and then enter his glory?” This is perhaps the most profound piece of Christ’s instruction, the change of mind that the disciples most struggled to grasp. The foretold Messiah was supposed to come and suffer on our behalf. The cross was not an accident, but necessary to his crowning glory, like Joseph’s sale into slavery, they meant it for evil, but the Lord meant it for good.

The cross is the center of Peter’s message. After reading Joel, and the discussion of the spirit, and prophesy, and signs and wonders, you might expect him to talk of the Spirit. But he turns immediately to Jesus. For the signs and wonders are the acts of Jesus, attesting to his source from God. And the Spirit is from Jesus, it’s pouring forth here is testimony that he has been raised up, that death could not hold him.

The Apostles preach the cross not out of a sense of duty, but out of Joy. There is there life, there is their hope, there is their all. They don’t preach themselves, because they see the total folly.

And the glory of Jesus is an inheritance that will not fade, and will not fail. Psalm 16 is an expression of the hope of the Psalmist. The Lord is always before me… I may not be shaken…. My heart was glad, my tongue rejoiced, my flesh dwells in hope… you make known the paths of life.. you will make me full of gladness with your presence.” This is the hope of the resurrection, today. Our hope… and David’s hope, despite the fact that his bones are in the grave. How foolish is that many who preaches Christianity as the solution of all the world’s problems, who preaches happiness today and joy as its chief benefits. What a snake oil salesman is the one with that false annointing, that Spirit of deception, who says you will be healed, you will be happy, you will be rich. David is dead, yet he is full of gladness in his presence. And though we die, we will yet live, and will see our redeemer with these eyes.

Suffering, then Glory. We follow our Lord in this pattern, Peter writes in his epistle: 13But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. He learned this lesson well from his risen Lord, and we will see it throughout the preaching of Acts, both from him, and Paul.

• Suffering and Glory

o Suffering

♣ 2.23, Crucified
♣ 36, this Jesus whom you crucified.

o Glory

♣ 24, God raised him up.
♣ 32, This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses.
♣ 33, Exalted.
♣ 36, God made him Lord and Christ

Law and Gospel

The Law and Gospel pattern in preaching comforts us by revealing our sins, by laying them bare, and then providing for them the ultimate cure. The full and free promise of forgiveness in the death and resurrection of Christ. That is indeed the only comfort in life and death.

It follows naturally, indeed overlaps with, the preaching of suffering and glory. For Christ suffered the curse of the Law on our behalf, and he is glorified as the true seed of Abraham, the true recipient of the promise, on our behalf. Indeed, we are counted heirs and share in his glory.

Law and Gospel are most powerful when they are distinguished, not confused. Thus we hear the law when we hear a command, what we must do, in the imperative voice. “do this and you will live.” The Gospel tells us what has been done for us. It is pure promise. Believe, and receive, it says. Stop doing. It has been done.

Peter’s application of the Law is particular to his audience. These Men of Israel were charged with waiting for their Messiah, hoping in him, and preparing themselves for him. They were warned of his coming by the prophets, and finally by John the Baptist. And when he came — fully attested and verified by God as to his person — they crucified and killed him, using the apparatus of lawless gentile state to do so.

So Peter says not once, but twice, this great and mighty messiah of God you did not receive, but you crucified. You crucified. And the Law tells us today this same thing. You crucified the Lord. Your sins nailed him to the cross. Those sins put David in the grave, those sins denote this a crooked generation.

But the Gospel is oh so sweet. Death couldn’t hold him. He lives. This cross was the instrument, foreseen by God, of the pouring forth of the Spirit. We may repent, and believe, and be forgiven our sins. The promise isn’t just for me — I don’t prove my worthiness by my faith — its also for my kids! Even now, on this day of judgment, this day of the Lord, I may be delivered. I can be saved.

Christ crucified… by you, and for you. Christ is the victim, and your priest. The House of Israel is judged for this great and heinous sin — her root is cut off — and yet God planned by this sin to save, and heal, and restore. The tree is chopped down to a stump, it is burned, and yet a shoot, new life, comes forth.

• Word and Sacrament.
• Promise and Fulfillment.
• Suffering and Glory.
• Law and Gospel.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 2b: The Dawning Day of the Lord (2:14 - 41)

Sun, 24 Jul 2011 22:50:43 -0400

Texts: Acts 2:14 – 41; Joel 1 – 2

Introduction

We turn to the Book of Acts this day to hear the Gospel — to behold Christ crucified — that we might believe on him and have our faith strengthened. But as a young church, we also turn there to see how the church was established by Christ’s apostles, what is patterns of faith and worship were.

And since about 30% of the text of Acts is made up of Apostolic sermons, we see there a pattern for our preaching. I think it is an interesting question to ask… whether, and to what degree, the typical sermon today conforms to the Apostolic pattern. A pattern we could describe as Redemptive Historical, Law & Gospel, and Eschatalogical.

Jesus said, You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life. And that just about sums up most preaching today. It searches the Bible for nuggets to use to help us live a better life, “our best life now.” But it fails to grasp that the Scriptures are not about us, or our lives, but about God, and his saving work in Christ. They bear witness about him, and this is what Jesus spent the forty days of his resurrection drilling into the heads of his Apostles, this is what they couldn’t fully grasp until filled with the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost: O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?" And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.

Our preaching at Christ Reformed is decidedly biblical, and Christ centered. Of course, you’d be hard pressed to find a preacher who said he wasn’t biblical, or Christ-centered. So the real question, is what do we mean by that?

And so, Redemptive Historical preaching seeks to set forth Christ as the saving content of Scripture, because the Bible’s message about Jesus, his cross, and resurrection, is what saves us, it is the tool the Spirit uses to convict us of our sin, and to create and confirm faith in our hearts. It’s not about us, our obedience, our striving, our walk with Jesus. It’s about Him. The more I preach about you, the more you think about you, the more naturally narcissistic you become. The more I talk about Jesus, the more you think about Jesus, so that you may look to him, come to him, call on his name for salvation, believe on him, and have life.

You read the Bible, Jesus says on the road to Emmaus, but you don’t believe it, because you don’t trust its message, you don’t understand it. You don’t believe the prophets, because their promise is about me, I am the fulfillment.

So the way we preach from the Old Testament, and the New Testament, is the same, because our pattern of preaching is promise and fulfillment, in obedience to Christ. That is Redemptive Historical preaching, in a nutshell, and its what we see in our text today.

Yes, our concerns today, the most significant question in your life, and your life, and your life, are exactly the same as that group of three thousand mediterranean Jews listening to Peter on Pentecost. They are the concerns of guilty sinners standing before the tribunal of a Holy God on the Day of His judgment and wrath.

Why Joel?

I want to spend two weeks on this sermon of Peter’s, focusing this week on the promise — the Old Testament context. And next week on the New Testament fulfillment, the realization of this promise in the life of Christ and its application to those who heard this message.

First, why does Peter, our preacher, pick this text? Why does he preach from the prophet Joel, when there are many other, better known prophets… Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah? Is he being intentionally obscure? Testing our Bible knowledge?

Remember where we are in Acts. Jesus has ascended to heaven, and before doing so he has commanded his disciples to remain in Jerusalem, where they would receive the promised baptism of the Holy Spirit, and with fire. And so the disciples return to Jerusalem and wait there together, selecting a replacement for Judas and reconstituting themselves as the Twelve. And in our text last week we say that the Day of Pentecost, the Feast of the First Fruits of the Harvest, was fulfilled with a heavenly blast of trumpets, and tongues of fire that descended from heaven. But as with Moses and the burning bush, as with Isaiah and the burning coal, this fire did not consume, but purified. And all Israel, having brought their first-fruits from the corners of the world, heard the noise.

A great multitude of thousands heard the trumpet blast, they were called to the solemn assembly. And Peter stood before them, not alone, but standing with the eleven, speaking with one voice for the Twelve, the Twelve whom Jesus said would inherit the Kingdom, and judge the twelve tribes of Israel. The newly constituted assembly was gathered, every male of Israel — all the inhabitants of the land, of all lands — was now present in the only conceivable place in Jerusalem where they could gather, the outer court of the temple, the House of the Lord their God.

That is the scene set before you this day. Why does Peter preach from Joel? Because he knows his Bible, and now he, for the first time, actually understands it. He is living it. “This is what was uttered through the prophet Joel.” This thing today is that thing. This thing — the heavenly blast, the tongues of fire, the miraculous speech, men and women telling together of the wonderous mighty acts the Lord had done in Jesus — this thing, is that thing. This event is the fulfillment of Joel’s promise.

This Day is the Day of the Lord

What is the Day of the Lord?

When Peter reads these few lines from Joel, the crowd before him, gathered for the feast of Pentecost, immediately recalls the entire book — and it is not a happy story. They know their Bibles far better than we do. And the prophecy of Joel came on the heels of a great plague, a plague of locusts on the land of Israel that had darkened the sky, and destroyed the harvest.

The grain offering and the drink offering are cut off    from the house of the LORD. The priests mourn,    the ministers of the LORD. The fields are destroyed,     the ground mourns, because the grain is destroyed,    the wine dries up,    the oil languishes.

Be ashamed, O tillers of the soil;    wail, O vinedressers, for the wheat and the barley,     because the harvest of the field has perished. 12The vine dries up;     the fig tree languishes. Pomegranate, palm, and apple,    all the trees of the field are dried up, and gladness dries up    from the children of man.

Joel’s prophecy comes in the midst of a Pentecost without a harvest. The seven first fruits offered on pentecost — wheat, barley, fig, pomegranate, olive, grape, palm — have all been destroyed by the wrath of the Lord, his promised blessings are withheld. The offerings are cut off from the house of the Lord, the priests mourn; the tillers of the soil are ashamed. Israel has been cut off from the Land, and from the Lord. This is the curse of the Law.

This tragedy, Joel says, is no accident. It is the Lord’s judgment for Israel’s sins, for their false Gods, for their harlotry, and it is a warning of a final day of judgment that is coming. The fire that has swept through the drought stricken fields is a foretaste of heavenly fire that will descend, and consume all. The shame of the tiller at their lost harvest anticipates a universal shame when all of us will stand before the almighty God as laborers without fruit, workers who have consumed their hours with vanity. And you must know that there will be no more dodging in that day, no more concealing the truth. For all the world will be gathered in the Valley of Decision — the Valley of the Lord’s decision, the Lord’s judgment.

Yet the people of God are heirs both of the Law of Moses, and the Gospel of Abraham. So the Day of the Lord is a day of judgment, but it is also a day of promise, a day of repentance. Even now, even on the very day of destruction, you may return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. Joel calls the priests to intercede between the vestibule and the altar:

Spare your people, O LORD,    and make not your heritage a reproach,    a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples,    'Where is their God?'"

This is the same prayer that Moses prayed in the wilderness, when Israel had worshiped the Golden Calf, and violated the covenant even before God had finished writing it on the tablets of stone. From the very beginning, the covenant of Sinai couldn’t save, but pointed forward to a true Law-keeper to come.

And it is only after this repentance, that restoration will come, that the Spirit will be poured fourth on the people, and that great blessing will come, when all flesh — from the least to the greatest, old and young, sons and daughters — will know the Lord, will serve together as prophets, priests, and kings in his holy house.

The Dawning Day of the Lord

Peter turns to the sad story of Joel, because he realizes that the phenomenon of Pentecost — the pouring out of the Spirit, the prophesy, the tongues of flame — is exactly what Joel is talking about. He had seen signs and wonders throughout the ministry of Jesus, and at his crucifixion he had seen the sun go dark, had felt the earth quake, and seen the curtain in the temple torn in two. He had seen sins forgiven, and men saved by calling on the name of Jesus Christ.

What Joel had seen a faint shadow of in famine and plague and swarms of locust, Peter is witnessing firsthand. Peter and the rest of the twelve were witnesses of the dawning of the day of the Lord, and the message he now bore for the multitude of Jews before him was extremely bad news. It was a message of judgment. They would have understood the reference to Joel.

It was the feast of Pentecost, but their offerings were in vain, for the harvest of the field had perished. Peter is calling the feast-keepers hypocrites, in keeping with the message of the prophets, and the message of Jesus, he is calling them whitewashed tombs. Though their baskets were full of fruit, their hearts were empty. The day of the Lord was coming, the great and magnificent day. And this meant that the Lord was coming in judgment, and the people of God had blood on their hands, for they had delivered up the Messiah to be crucified and killed at the hands of lawless men. The tearing of the curtain in the temple signified that at the death of Christ Israel herself was judged for her sins; the covenant curses were in force, and the temple in Israel no longer was the source of divine forgiveness.

Law & Gospel

What the prophets saw faintly, in shadows, the Apostles now perceive clearly, with their own two eyes. And what they saw was that the judgment had been both more severe, and the restoration more sweet, than the prophets could have imagined. More severe, because the judgment of Israel after the flesh was total, absolute. There would be no more territorial kingdom in Jerusalem whatsoever. But in its place was a more glorious, heavenly kingdom, Israel that is above.

For at the moment of judgment on Israel, at the height of the rejection of the Messiah, the Christ himself had interposed his blood, the same one who was coming in judgment had suffered judgment in their place. And now his people were heirs of a kingdom of pardon and praised, found not on the twelve tribes of Israel, but on the prophetic witness of the twelve apostles.

And this mercy is ever sweet, for it comes with the patience of the Lord, and with delay of final judgment. “At this time will you restore the kingdom?” the Apostles had asked at his ascension. What a foolish, rash question. What a selfish question, for it would have been a kingdom of 120 souls — not exactly the numberless multitude that was promised to Abraham. To which question Jesus responded with the promise of the Spirit, the Spirit who comes with fire to purify, not judge, the Spirit who brings words in all languages so that all flesh, the whole earth, may hear of the mighty works of the Lord.

And so the New Testament kingdom of grace is established in the last days, when God’s judgment has been revealed, and poured forth on his own Son, whose name and suffering is now proclaimed to the ends of the earth, that his glory may be revealed. This is a kingdom of merciful delay, mercy not anticipated by the prophets, in which the Day of the Lord has already dawned, while not yet coming in its fulness.

So it is this first day of the week, this Lord’s Day. It is a day of judgment, and a day of repentance. It is a day where you are called to set aside your hypocrisy, and turn to the Lord for blessing.

In his second epistle, Peter writes of scoffers who mock the coming judgment, saying “everything continues on just as it has since the creation.”

But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.

Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set on fire and dissolved, and the heavenly bodies will melt as they burn! But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 2a: The Day Jesus Became a Life-Giving Spirit (2:1 - 13)

Sun, 17 Jul 2011 11:35:48 -0400

Texts: Acts 2:1 - 13; Numbers 11

Introduction

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life.

That Spirit has been living, and active, in the life of the people of God from the creation of the First Adam, to the Redemption wrought in and through the Last Adam, as we read in Genesis 2:7 and 1 Corinthians 15:45:

Gen 2:7:  The LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed — [the nephesh, spirit of God] — into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.

1 Cor 15:45:  Thus it is written, "The first man Adam became a living being"; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit.

As we turn to the account of the day of Pentecost today, it is crucial that we keep that full sweep of redemptive history in view. For what we have just read is nothing less than an account of that moment at which the Last Adam — our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ — became a life-giving Spirit.

Think about that. What I have just said is of crucial importance, for how we understand this text, indeed, how we understand everything the book of Acts, the New Testament, has to say about the Holy Spirit. So I will say it again:

The Day of Pentecost is a unique moment in the career of the Last Adam, Jesus Christ. It is the moment at which our ascended Lord became what God’s plan of redemption intended him to be, a “Life-Giving Spirit.” This is an epoch-making event in the unfolding of Redemptive History never again to be repeated, the moment when our Lord came into his own, inherited in full the power and authority that had been granted to him in his church, and began to rule that church — his heavenly kingdom — by the power of his Word, through His apostles. This event is the consummation — the Harvest, if you will, for the feast of Pentecost, or the Feast of Weeks, is the feast of harvest — of all of Christ’s redemptive labors: His incarnation, birth, obedient youth and adulthood, suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension. It is, quite literally, the crowning moment, the terminus of the resurrection, where Jesus was “declared to be the Son of God in power by the Spirit of Holiness.”

The significance of what I am saying now is very likely quite difficult for you to grasp, not because any of you are dull, but because you understanding of the Holy Spirit’s activity recorded on the pages of the New Testament has been shaped by two hundred years plus of American revivalism, enthusiasms, Pentecostalism, and charismatic Christianity. Whether you are a Pentecostal or not, a charismatic, or not, you have likely been shaped by this tradition, as it has informed not only evangelical but also other forms of Protestant and Reformed — even Roman Catholic — Christianity in America.

So, I will unpack this statement, and I will attempt to defend this thesis, both today, and in the coming months as we work our way through Acts. The key question to be answered today: Is Pentecost a Redemptive event in the career of our Lord, or is it a pattern for the life of the Church? Is it something that happened once never again to be repeated — akin to his incarnation, crucifixion, or resurrection — or is it something that we should seek to emulate and experience regularly?

And once we have arrived at an answer to that question, then we can begin to understand the significance of what we read, to take comfort from it, and to apply it to our lives today. For by saying that Pentecost is a once-for-all event, I am not saying that it is therefore not important, or not of lasting significance. It is as crucial as our Lord’s death, his resurrection. It is the source of the life of which we partake this very day, the spiritual life coursing through our veins.

The Fulfillment of Pentecost

Luke sets the scene for us with language that stresses that the events that happened on the day of Pentecost represent a fulfillment of everything that the Feast of Pentecost represented. We read “when the day of Pentecost had arrived,” but the Greek term here for “arrive” is suggestive of fulfillment, and it is the same word Luke uses in chapter 9 of his Gospel where we read “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” This is the language of the “fullness of time,” and it both points backward to the fulfillment of the Feast’s symbolism, and to the filling with the Holy Spirit to come. The same verbal root echoes when we read that the sound of a mighty rushing wind “filled” the house, and they were all “filled with the Holy Spirit.” This is fulfillment by filling.

A fulfillment is something that happens once. It is a once-for-all-time event.

What was fulfilled? The Feast of Pentecost, or “weeks,” fell seven weeks after Passover, hence 49, or 50 days, for the Greek “Pentecost.” It was associated with the harvest, the harvest period lasting these seven weeks, beginning with barley at Passover, and ending with wheat at Pentecost. Deuteronomy 8:7 – 8 described the promised land according to those blessings that would be harvested there:

For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing out in the valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey, a land in which you will eat bread without scarcity, in which you will lack nothing, a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills you can dig copper. And you shall eat and be full, and you shall bless the LORD your God for the good land he has given you.

This promise was understood to identify seven fruits that were harvested: wheat, barley, grapes, figs, pomegranates, olives, and dates.

I don’t know about you, but my tomato bushes are full of green fruit. Claire is anxiously waiting for the first fruit to grow red, and ripen. It has started changing color. The ancient Jews would likewise watch, but with much greater significance. Each time the first fruit of each of the seven harvests ripened, they would tie a reed around it, for the first fruits were not to be greedily eaten, but to be offered to the Lord. Pentecost signified the ripening of the seventh fruit, the arrival of the completion of the harvest. It was the long-anticipated day, the first day when the first fruits of all the harvests could then be gathered together, and taken up to Jerusalem to be offered to the Lord, for they belonged to Him. He was the giver of the land, and he had given the harvest. Pentecost is a feast of fulfillment, a feast of first fruits of the harvest.

Pentecost, falling fifty days after Passover, is also associated with one of the greatest moments in the history of redemption, the giving of the Law at Mt. Sinai, the moment when the Israelites were constituted God’s people, covenanted together and bound to their redeemer Lord by his Law. This context is essential to our understanding of the imagery that Luke uses to describe the work of the Spirit.

Importantly, it is also one of the three high feast days when all Israelite men were required to appear in the temple. It was a feast of pilgrimage. Calvin, as is typical, avoids speculating about the symbolism and focuses on this fact, as it is crucial to the narrative. Not only were all the disciples of Jesus gathered together in Jerusalem, but also indeed devout, God fearing men from every nation under heaven. Jews and Jewish proselytes representing the whole of the known world were gathered within earshot to hear the “sound heard round the world.”

Jesus’ Promise

Jesus had ordered his disciples not to leave Jerusalem, and they were obedient to his will. This command was given with the promise of the Spirit, “for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now." What exactly is this Holy Spirit baptism?

Luke has already recorded John the Baptist’s testimony:

I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire

Notice that the focus of Holy Spirit baptism is Christological, the focus is on Jesus Christ, and that is why we must understand Pentecost as an event in the redemptive career of Christ. He is the one who baptizes with the Spirit, it is His Spirit that he and the Father send. And the association with fire points to judgment. His winnowing fork is in his hand, the wheat and the chaff are separated, and the chaff is burned up. Later in Luke’s Gospel Jesus emphasizes this theme of judgment:

I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.

John’s water baptism was a baptism of repentance, a baptism of warning, of preparation.

Jesus’ greater baptism was the real one, the baptism of with fire, and judgment. This is the same consuming fire of holiness that is angered against all sin and unrighteousness, it is the fire of holiness that came down into the camp in Numbers 11, our Old Testament lesson today, and burned up the people who were complaining that they had been redeemed from Egypt, and were subject to the trials of the wilderness. It is the same fiery baptism that threatened our Lord during his ministry, the baptism we confess as a very descent into hell, our hell, for us, so that we might not have to, a fiery baptism that gave him great distress every moment of his life on earth until it was accomplished.

Perhaps the greatest miracle of Pentecost, is that this fire of holiness did not consume those sinners upon whom it came to rest; it did not consume them, but instead it filled them, and dwelt within them, and purified and empowered their tongues that they might bear witness to their Lord. And of course, it did not consume them, because it had consumed Him, because he had undergone that greatest of all fiery baptisms, because he had drank the cup of judgment, down to its bitterest of dregs.

And so, on this day, Jesus, the Last Adam, became a life-giving Spirit. The Lord breathed once again on his creatures, into their nostrils, and gave them the breath of life, lifting the curse of spiritual death that had resided on them since the fall. And the great news of the day of Pentecost is that the fire of judgment is delayed by the fire of holiness; that the church will continue to harvest, continue to thresh, continue to bring the wheat into the barn until the final day of fire comes. That is the Good News of Pentecost.

The Signs of the Spirit

There are two signs by which the presence of the Spirit is marked: The sound of a mighty, or violent, wind, and the divided tongues of fire resting on each of them. Note, the Spirit is not the wind, nor is the spirit the flame, any more than the Spirit is the dove. These are signs of his presence.

In both Hebrew and Greek, the word for Spirit is the same word for breath, or wind. He is the Spirit of life, of breath. Recall that Ezekiel before the Valley of Dry Bones speaks not to the bones, but is commanded to prophesy to the breath, that it may come and breathe life into the dry, dead bones. Here we find not the blowing of wind, but the sound of it, even the great blast of the trumpets that blew at Sinai. It is described as violent. Like the roar of the gust that marks the coming of a violent storm, it probably scared the daylights out of the disciples.

And the common fire of the spirit likewise divided, and rested on each one. One spirit, shared in common. This fire is reminiscent of the holy, purifying fire of the Lord’s presence, the pillar of fire that was with God’s people in the Old Testament, the shekinah glory cloud of fire that inhabited the temple. And now it was coming to dwell with the people of God, within the people of God, within the church, that is its new home. The Lord’s tabernacling among his people was typified by the temple, it was fulfilled in the flesh of Christ at the incarnation, and it is, in a sense, consummated when the Spirit of the Lord tabernacles in each one of us, purifying us, uniting us, empowering us, giving us life.

The Centrality of the Word

What is the effect of this Spirit, this purifying fire? Luke emphasizes it by calling them “tongues” of fire, for the first thing this fire does as it fills the disciples is purify and miraculously empower their tongues, and they began to speak “in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.”

The power of Spirit in the church is bound from the very begin with the word. Indeed, note the centrality of hearing and the word throughout this account: The sound marks the beginning of the episode, and it gives them utterance. The sound draws the multitude, they hear the speaking of Galileans in their own langue, they hear them telling in their own tongues the mighty works of God.

The miracle of tongues here is not that of heavenly tongues discussed by Paul in 1 Corinthians 14; this is a miracle of divinely empowered speech that enables poor Galilean fisherman to speak real languages of men, transcending differences of nationality and language that separated them all. Though it is not explicitly referenced, the blessing witnessed here suggests a reversal of the curse of the tower of Babel, where a different kind of confusion reigned. Here, men from all corners of the globe are bewildered by their common understanding, by the undoing of that curse.

Not only does the fire of the Spirit not consume, it now begins to unite that which has been scattered. And here the wisdom of our Lord’s working, of the fullness of time, is fully on display. Jesus had said that the Apostles — the newly established judges of Israel — would be his special witness in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, even to the end of the earth. And while this witness will unfold throughout the book of Acts, we see it already fulfilled by way of anticipation here, on this day, in a very moment. And it is fulfilled by the Lord who has not only scattered his people to every corner of the globe, but gathered them together in Jerusalem to hear this word of his mighty deeds. For salvation came first to the Jews. And even Jews of all nations were the first to hear, and believe.

Behold the wisdom of the Lord, in raising up his particular people, blessing them, and judging them. Sending them to the four corners of the globe, and gathering them back to worship in his temple at the appointed hour, on the appointed day. There to hear the good news, and go as witnesses. There to receive some of the Spirit, the same spirit that rested on Moses and was distributed to his judges, now resting on the Apostles, and then on three thousand men, that they might share with them the joyous burden of bearing this good news back to the very ends of the earth from which they came. And thus in the Jewish people we have the type, the seed, that would grow into a great bush, into which the conversion of the Gentiles — likewise to be filled with the Spirit in Acts 10, likewise to be gathered into a church, and sent into the world as witnesses of their risen king.

Come now, gather around the table, eat and be filled with the fruits of the harvest, and go as laborers into the fields to gather in the remaining fruits.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 1b: Fulfilling the Number of the Twelve (1:12 - 26)

Sun, 10 Jul 2011 09:11:00 -0400

Texts: Acts 1:12 - 26; Psalm 109:1 - 15

Introduction

You all need a reminder this morning.

You don’t need a reminder about God’s Law. You know that, deep down. You know your sin, your guilt. You have confessed it, and been fully absolved in Christ.

What you need is a reminder about the Gospel. You may scratch your head and wonder where in our reading we will find such a reminder.

Our text reads like the minutes from a Elks Lodge meeting. We have the calling of the roll, “Peter and John and James and Andrew,” and the confirmation of quorum (120 was the requirement for the establishment of a Jewish community). We have the New Business: And now we turn to the sad story of Judas, who has betrayed His Lord, or in the coinage of our extended metaphor, resigned his membership in the Elks and joined up with the Kiwanis. Curses be upon him, as is called for in article 69 subsection 25 and article 109 subsection 8 of our bylaws. And, according to the addendum to those bylaws, we have the reading for the criteria for a replacement officer, and the nomination of two worthy candidates. And, finally, by the drawing of lots we have the selection of the replacement board member, and his installation in the completion of their number.

And that is why I’m not an Elk.

Where is the Gospel in this procedural mess? Perhaps we could rescue the text by using it as a negative example, since the Holy Spirit hadn’t yet descended on the church, this is a lesson in how we shouldn’t do things (some commentators have actually taken this line… that Matthias was wrongly appointed, as is shown by the Lord himself naming Paul the true twelfth apostle). Others have argued on the basis of texts like this in Acts that this entire book is a mythical history written a hundred years or more after the time of Christ, when the church had devolved into a bureaucratic mess, and was trying to justify the establishment of a “catholic” regime. So Acts becomes not inspired history of the first church, but the biased human history of the second century church read back in time. We reject this latter reading, primarily for its denial of inspiration, but also because it is not supported by the evidence. Luke writes with a knowledge of his time and place that far excels anything that could have been produced 100 years later.

So where’s the Gospel? What’s the good news about procedure? And the Twelve Apostles?

Before I answer that question, pause and think about the very existence of the scene before us. Wave after wave of “radicals” in the church have argued that we have to get back to the church of the Apostles, away from the institutional church, and back to the church of spirit-filled life together. And then you read the minutes from the above meeting. There’s a reason your Bible says Peter’s first sermon takes place in chapter 2. This is boring stuff. And it’s taking place in the ten day window between the ascension of Christ, and the reception of the Spirit on Pentecost. Already, the institutional church is born. These guys are getting serious, they are getting their act together. They are finally heeding the command of Jesus, finally grasping that they have been commissioned, and sent, by their risen Lord to do some serious work. That’s what Apostle means — “sent ones” — and their obedience to Christ’s command, his great commission, is good news to you and me, and all of us who live at the ends of the earth.

How lovely are the feet of those who bear good news, even while they are grinding through a six hour ordination exam. Especially when they are enduring a six hour exam.

There is the Gospel, believe it or not. The Gospel of the Heavenly Kingdom, the Gospel of the Apostolic Kingdom.

Three aspects of Gospel to draw your attention to: The Judgment on Judas, The Apostolic Office, and the nature of the Apostolic Kingdom.

Apostleship

The scene of our text today is an upper room in Jerusalem, where the Apostles were staying after the ascension of Jesus, along with other followers, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, and women — perhaps wives — and brothers of the Lord. This may or may not be the same upper room in which the Last Supper took place, but there are two things to note as this scene is being set. First, the Apostles are acting in obedience to Christ, who commanded them not to depart Jerusalem, but to wait for the promised Spirit from the Father. It would have been easy, even natural, for the Apostles to scatter after the departure of their Lord; they were followers of Jesus, and Jesus had just departed. Yet Jesus is telling them that the community that formed around him would continue; he would continue to be its master, though now in glory.

And this is an apostolic community. The Twelve are named first in chapter 6 of Luke’s Gospel, and its important to note that this is not just a listing of the names of some of his first followers. Jesus had already called disciples, and Luke tells us that Jesus after a night of prayer “chose from them twelve, and named them apostles.” Their being “named” apostles is a formal step; Jesus is giving them a particular role, an office. Peter says of Judas “he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.” Luke is the only evangelist who emphasizes their “chosenness” in his Gospel, and our text last week called them “the apostles whom he had chosen.” Again, in our text today, the Apostles pray that the Lord would “show which one of these two you have chosen to take the place” of Judas.

The theme of this text, therefore, is very clearly apostleship, and the twelve. And so, when we ask how the procedure, the formalism, of this early gathering comforts us, what we are really asking is how is the naming of the Apostles comforts us.

Apostle, first, means “sent.” But it is a special, technical kind of sending. It is a legal term, and it is the equivalent of Power of Attorney. Now, when you give someone power of attorney, they are empowered to legally act on your behalf, enter into contracts, manage assets, what have you. It is a way legally of extending the reach of your person to act in ways and places where you are not physically able to act, like a nation sending ambassadors “plenipotentiary,” i.e., “possessing full power.” Jesus names the twelve to serve as his ambassadors, his ruling council, and he does so in Luke’s Gospel immediately before the Sermon on the Mount, immediately before the giving of the New Law, the Establishment of the New Kingdom.

And just like a power of attorney, “Apostleship” is non-transferable. If I give elder Chris Madsen — who happens to be a lawyer — legal authority to act on my behalf, he cannot give it to someone else. It terminates with him, unless I designate otherwise. Only Jesus can choose, and name, the Twelve. That is why Judas is replaced — and only Judas — on the basis of his apostasy and removal from office, and by the Lord’s own choosing, through lots. When James the brother of John dies, later in Acts, he is not replaced.

That this technical, apostolic office was intended for the first generation founding of the church is clear from the purpose of their calling, and the criteria set forth by Peter. They were chosen to be witnesses of the resurrection, to the forgiveness of sins that comes with repentance, and so they had to have accompanied Jesus from the beginning, from the baptism of John until his ascension. The Spirit was promised to lead them into all truth, to give them understanding by explaining to them what Jesus had taught while with them. Thus, Judas’s replacement had to come from that number of disciples who met these criteria.

The Significance of Judas’s Judgment, and Replacement

The replacement of Judas underlines the importance of the twelve apostles, and the very nature of the Kingdom that Jesus had restored, and their role in it.

First, the judgment on Judas is significant. It is odd that the first apostolic sermon in the New Testament is on Psalm 69 and Psalm 109, two Psalms that call down curses on the wicked men who attack the Messiah. Uplifting stuff, no? And yet, Peter is acting in accordance with Jesus instructions. He has learned that all the Old Testament testifies to both the suffering, and glory, of the Messiah. These Scriptures had to be fulfilled. It was no accident that David, the most brilliant type of Christ in the Old Testament, lived much of his life on the lamb, and was attacked from all sides, and rejected indeed by Israel itself. This was a prophecy, of how the Christ would be treated. It is also a prophecy of how all Christians, all of those united to our Holy head, are treated by the world.

And yes, we are comforted by the judgment of Judas, and the curses that fall on the head of the Messiah’s attackers. Those who assail our Lord will not prevail. They are of their father the devil, and like their head, they will be crushed. Nor will the church fall to her attackers. Our suffering in this age makes us alike to him in his suffering, and is not to be compared to the glory that awaits us.

So the graphic recounting of the death and disembowelment of Judas is not gloating. It is a reminder that the Scripture had been fulfilled, and just as the Lord Jesus had chosen Judas to be a witness to his resurrection, the Holy Spirit decreed beforehand that another should take his office. Even this most heinous crime was executed “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.”

Why Twelve?

But why did Judas have to be replaced? Why did the church need twelve apostles, and why is this the first act of this gathered body, even before they received the giving of the Spirit. We never again hear of Matthias… why does he matter? Were they impatient?

The Spirit is still teaching us about the nature of the Kingdom that Christ has come to establish. Recall at the Last Supper, over that communion meal, that Jesus explicitly tied the significance of the Twelve to the establishment of the new covenant:

“And I bequeath by covenant to you, as my Father covenanted to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”

In the Lord’s Supper, we learn that Jesus has inherited a Kingdom. The Second Adam, completing the work he was sent to do, obedient to the uttermost, now receives his inheritance, as promised by covenant, from his heavenly Father. And he turns around and gives it to us, not on the basis of our works, but on the basis of His works, and given by grace. And at that covenant meal the Twelve are sealed as those who will judge the Twelve tribes of Israel.

Peter was listening to Jesus parting words. When will Israel be restored? When will the twelve tribes once again be arrayed in glory and march to victory? You will receive power. You will be my witnesses. Twelve witnesses, twelve legal witnesses to the shedding of blood and the inauguration of a new covenant. Twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Recall that before the giving of the first covenant, Moses gathered together the elders of Israel, and they ate bread before God. Recall that Moses chose able men as his representatives to judge the people at all times. Recall that when that old covenant was inaugurated, with the sprinkling of blood, it was the elders who stood there as witnesses, judges to take the oath on behalf of the people, and to put it in force.

And see how Christ is a greater Moses, inaugurating a greater covenant, not a replacement, but a fulfillment of all that Israel was ever meant to be. And so he names the Twelve prior to giving his new law, in the beatitudes, a fulfillment of every jot and tittle of that old covenant. And he grants these twelve to inherit his kingdom when the bread is broken and the wine flows, the sprinkling of the new covenant blood. And now, at the dawn of the new world, at the giving of the Spirit and the showering of the authority of Christ onto his church, the number of the twelve must be fulfilled, for there are twelve tribes to judge; twelve thrones to fill.

Truly I say to you, in the new world when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

The Son of Man is on his throne. He has sealed his promise of life to us, with his very own blood. Come eat and drink at his table in the Kingdom.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 1a: Proclaiming the Kingdom of God (1:1 - 11)

Sun, 3 Jul 2011 09:02:46 -0400

Texts: Acts 1:1 – 11, Isaiah 49:5 – 7

Introduction

As we begin what will probably be a year’s study through the book of Acts, it is natural for us to have a preconceived notion of what this book is about. And one such dominant notion is that this book is about the Holy Spirit, about Pentecost, about the Good Old Days when the church was full of the Spirit, when people spoke in tongues, great healing miracles were an everyday occurrence, and the church lived in communal bliss sharing all their possessions. Some have proposed that it be called “The Acts of the Holy Spirit.” But if we listen to Luke, and glance back at that first volume before we plunge into the sequel, what do we see?

In his first book, Luke dealt with all that Jesus “began to do and to teach until the day he was taken up.” Jesus began his public ministry by being baptized by John, at which time the Spirit descended on him as a dove. And Jesus, “full of the Holy Spirit,” was led by that Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted, and returned in the Power of the Spirit to Galilee. Where, like a good Israelite, he went to the Synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he picked up the scroll, and he read from the prophet Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,  because he has anointed me  to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives  and recovering of sight to the blind,  to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

Two things to note here. First, Jesus was endowed was endowed with the Holy Spirit before the church was; indeed, Pentecost is a fruit of his labors, it is the promise of the church being made in the image of her suffering and glorified King. Acts is no more about the Holy Spirit, than Luke’s Gospel is. But more importantly, note what Jesus was empowered to do by that Spirit — to preach the word of God, to proclaim the good news, the Gospel. And at the end of Luke’s Gospel, during the original forty days of purpose, Jesus tells his disciples that they will be empowered like him to do the same thing:

Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.

This is what our text today calls “speaking about the Kingdom of God.” The Good News of Isaiah, the news of repentance and forgiveness of sins, was the news of the Kingdom. This is what Jesus taught his disciples about for those forty days, taught them to read and understand the promise of this kingdom on the pages of the Old Testament, taught them that they would proclaim the kingdom in his name, the name of the king, to all nations. And on the last of the forty days, he was still teaching them about this kingdom. And they were still confused — “Will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?”

Note that the opening verses of Acts depict Jesus teaching about the kingdom, proclaiming the kingdom. And what do we read at the end of the book, in Acts 28? “Paul lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance.” By opening, and closing Acts with instruction about the Kingdom, Luke is suggesting a theme for this volume, and that theme is the advance and progress of the Kingdom of God — a kingdom of pardon and praise — through the spirit empowered proclamation of that kingdom.

The Ascended King

You can’t proclaim the kingdom of God without proclaiming the King. Jesus taught his disciples what the Scriptures foretold: that the Christ would suffer, and rise from the dead, and forgiveness of sins would be proclaimed in his name. Paul at the close of Acts is proclaiming the Kingdom, and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ. So it is, that volume one of Luke’s account told us what Jesus “began to do and teach.” Volume Two shows us what he continues to do and teach, now after his ascension to glory. The Ascension of the King establishes the nature of the Kingdom of God. He has suffered, and been risen to glory. The Kingdom now is made like him in his suffering, yet led and comforted by him in his heavenly glory.

The King is present with his church, through the power of His Spirit, but he is nevertheless a heavenly king, and he rules over a heavenly kingdom. Will you now restore the Kingdom to Israel, the apostles ask. As we’ll see, Jesus answers this question, indirectly, in two ways. But the most direct answer is not in what he says, but what he does. He does not establish the Kingdom in Israel, but he ascends to heaven. He leaves his disciples with the angelic instruction, ringing this word in their ears three times: why do you look into heaven? Jesus was taken up into heaven… he will come as you saw him go, into heaven. A Kingdom with an ascended King is a heavenly kingdom.

Until the very last minute that Jesus was on earth, his closest intimates could not understand the otherworldly nature of the kingdom he came to establish. As long as he was present, they could not resist seeking the glory of the kingdom here and now. And in one sense, they were right. The kingdom is present where the king is present. It is glorious. Where the king is, there is his glory. What does Peter say after the transfiguration, that vision of the King’s glory? We should build a tabernacle, some sort of memorial. No, Peter. What you just saw was not about this time, this place. It was heaven, it is coming.

The Power of the Kingdom

This is why Jesus told his followers that it was better that he go, that he send his Spirit. They couldn’t understand the Old Testament promises with him there, and they couldn’t understand the Old Testament promises without the power of the Spirit. They were, in his presence, deaf, and dumb, and blind. Literally. Deaf and dumb and blind people are not good witnesses.

Just as Jesus himself needed the power of the Spirit to complete his ministry, so too the Apostles need the Spirit to do their work. Notice that Jesus commands the Apostles through the Holy Spirit, he is the one, having been endowed with the Spirit upon his own baptism, that now baptizes with the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit of Christ who is promised, and given, to the church. Do you see the Trinity working there in our second paragraph? The Father promised that the Son would Baptize with the Holy Spirit.

When we read of the events of Pentecost, in a few weeks, we’ll see that Peter sees the Father’s promise of the Spirit in the prophet Joel. But as was apparent in Jesus’ first sermon, the prophet Isaiah is crucial here. In what are known as the “Servant Songs” of Isaiah, the Messiah is portrayed as the “Servant of the Lord.” These songs are found in chapters 42 – 53, and 61, and this is where we get the clearest picture of the Messiah who had to suffer (the “suffering servant”) before entering his glory. In them we find many promises and shadows that are fulfilled in our New Testament text today, notably, the promise of the Spirit: “For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants.”

The promise of the Holy Spirit was the promise of judgment, and restoration. It is the promise of new life, of water being poured out on dry land, streams flowing in the desert, and the resultant desert bloom, dry, dusty hills turning verdant green, orange, and yellow as life bursts forth where there once had been only death. The Spirit is therefore the source of restoration, the power of the Kingdom. And in the context of the promise of the Spirit, it is entirely natural for the Apostles to ask about the restoration of the Kingdom. In this regard, they were making progress; they understood the connection between the Spirit of God and the Kingdom of God. Unfortunately, in associating the Kingdom of God narrowly with Israel, with a particular kind of restoration, and a particular timetable, they showed that they still failed to understand the nature of the Promised Kingdom.

The Kingdom and the Nations

When the Apostles ask “Will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel,” they get a twofold rebuke.

First, regarding the time, Jesus says it is not for them to know the times or seasons. All things are appointed by the Father in heaven. This is a remarkable testimony to the Providence of God, and particularly to his plan of redemption, which we will see recur throughout the book.

But the second rebuke is about the place. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” This language as well, like the promise of the Holy Spirit, comes out of the servant songs of Isaiah, as we read in Isaiah 49 today, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob… I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

The proclamation of the forgiveness of sins in Israel, the binding up of the lame tribes of Jacob, was only the beginning. Isaiah foretold that the Lord’s servant would be a light to the nations, and that his salvation would not be for one people, or place, but would extend to the very ends of the earth. In the name of Jesus, the servant of the Lord, the forgiveness of sins would be proclaimed to the very ends of the earth, now that the spirit of refreshing has been sent from on high.

It is often noted that this geography — Jerusalem… Judea, Samaria, to the end of the earth” — is a virtual outline of the book of Acts, tracing the progress of the kingdom of God from its early days in Jerusalem to Paul’s unrestrained preaching in the imperial city. This is true, and this is therefore something of a thesis statement for the book. But as recorded by Luke, the New Testaments only gentile author, the evangelist to the gentiles, it is also a crucial announcement about the heavenly nature of the kingdom. The Kingdom of God could be proclaimed in Rome only because it was a kingdom of grace, of repentance and forgiveness of sins. The kingdom of God can be preached here in Washington DC today, freely and boldly, only because it does not involve the overthrow of our government, nor the advance of the Messiah’s armies over the continent of Europe and the seas between. The coming of the Spirit would bring the kingdom, but just not the kind the apostles were looking for. It would be a heavenly kingdom, a spiritual kingdom, and therefore one that stretched to the very ends of the earth.

Witnesses of the Kingdom

You are witnesses of these things, Jesus said at the close of Luke’s Gospel. You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth, he instructs them as he departs this earth. Jesus chose his apostles carefully — they are called “the Apostles whom he had chosen” — he chose them as his witnesses, and he continues to choose them in Acts. As we’ll see next week, the Lord himself chooses a replacement for Judas, and Ananias is told that Saul is “the Lord’s chosen instrument to carry his name before Kings.”

The power of the Spirit, is the power to be faithful witnesses, to proclaim the kingdom of repentance and forgiveness to a world lost in sin. It is the Spirit who gives us eyes to see, and ears to hear. It is no mistake that Paul, a central character in the book of Acts, is brought into the kingdom by being knocked off a horse, and blinded, that this story is told not once, or twice, but three times in our narrative. This is the story of how his chosen witnesses are gathered into the kingdom — struck off their own foundations, given sight by the great healer. It is no mistake that the book opens with Jesus teaching about the kingdom, and ends with Paul proclaiming the Kingdom in Rome. We are, each one of us that receive forgiveness in his name, are made witnesses of his kingdom, of our blindness, and his light. We are remade in his image to serve him in this world, made prophets, priests, and kings, to teach, forgive, and govern.

As the Father granted the Son a kingdom, so the Son grants to you, and asks you to come to his table.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

Acts 1: An Orderly Account (Luke 1 & 24)

Sun, 26 Jun 2011 23:55:52 -0400

Text: The Gospel of Luke, Daniel 7:13 - 18

The Acts of Jesus

We turn today to a new series, through the book we know as the Acts of the Apostles.

And right off the bat, in the very first verse, we have a problem, for we read there, “In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach, until the day when he was taken up.” In the first book. You see, when you pick up the book of Acts, you are picking up the second half of the story, volume 2 of 2.

While the text of our New Testament is inspired by the Spirit, we have no such promise of inspiration for the ordering of the books in our printed Bibles. And we can rightly say that one of the unfortunate tragedies of the collection and preservation of the New Testament books as they come down to us is the separation of two volumes that were dedicated to Theophilus. They are clearly marked, for indeed, we find this same name as well in the opening lines of the Gospel of Luke, the first book written to Theophilus.

This separation came about because one of the first works of collecting that took place in the early church was the gathering of the Gospel accounts into a four-volume work, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The first book of Luke clearly belonged to this collection, the second book, not so clearly. And so, the two were separated, and so they have remained in the collections of the New Testament down through the ages.

Something else jumps out in this opening verse of Acts, which underlines the tragedy of this separation. “In the first book… I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach — Began to do and teach — until the day when he was taken up.” The first volume is only the beginning of the working and teaching of Jesus. These two volumes — both of them together — are a “narrative of things that have been accomplished among us.” And that which Jesus did prior to his ascension, is only the first part of what he did. And this is why some people have suggested that Acts of the Apostles is something of a misnomer for this book, as the main actor, in volume two as much as in volume one, is Jesus. Lukes Gospel is a two volume Gospel; what is recorded in Acts is just as essential to the narrative of what God had accomplished among us, as what is recorded in Luke. Gospel, and History, are not two different genres. This is Gospel-History.

Which is why Peter can say, “The God of our fathers raised Jesus, whom you killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.” God raised Jesus to be our Savior, that from on high he might give repentance, and forgiveness of sins.

And so, I want to begin this series through Acts, by taking a quick look back at Luke, so that we might get the flavor of all that Jesus began to do and teach, that led to his ascension on high.

Who Is Luke?

Both the Gospel of Luke, and the Acts of the Apostles, are therefore written by the same man. But who is Luke, whose name is given to the Gospel?

We meet Luke in the sixteenth chapter of Acts, when Paul, in Troas, has a vision of a Macedonian man, and the man urges Paul, “Come over and to Macedonia and help us.” And then we read,

…when Paul had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go on into Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them. So, setting sail from Troas, we made a direct voyage to Samothrace, and the following day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city some days.

And so with no fanfare whatsoever, Luke shifts from speaking about Paul and his traveling companions in the third person — he, or they — to the first person: “us… we.” He is, furthermore, clearly “called to preach the Gospel,” along with Paul, to the Macedonians. So he is an evangelist both by what he did, and by what he wrote. And from chapter 16 until the end of the book, we find that our author — whoever he is — is traveling along with Paul.

From the time of Irenaeus, about 180, the early church overwhelming identifies the author of these two volumes as Luke, Paul’s traveling companion who is mentioned in 2 Timothy, Colossians, and Philemon. Paul calls Luke “the beloved physician,” and writing to Timothy from prison in Rome, Paul says “Luke alone is with me.” So just as Mark, the other non-apostolic Evangelist, is associated with the preaching of Peter, so Luke is most closely associated with the preaching of Paul.

Luke is a towering figure among New Testament authors, and the only Gentile among them (though he was probably a convert to Judaism when he became a Christian). He is the most prolific of all its contributors, with Luke-Acts combining to account for 27% of the verses in the New Testament, more than Paul, more than John. He clearly was a learned man, as his Greek is generally agreed to be the most polished in the Bible, along with Hebrews. He is a versatile author, meaning that he can write in different styles suiting the occasion. The opening verses of the Gospel that we read today are in a high Greek style fitting the accepted forms for an introduction to a work of history, and yet the remainder of the Gospel is written in a Hebrew style similar to the Greek version of the Old Testament, which he was clearly intimately related with.

And so Luke is a gentile evangelist to the gentiles, and he introduces his two volume history in such a way as to present it to the Greek speaking literary world, to assert that it has a place with their great works of literature, and yet self-consciously bridging the gap to the Old Testament story of salvation, he continues his story in a mode highly reminiscent of the Pentateuch and Prophets, the Magnificat of Mary and the Benedictus of Simeon reflecting almost word for word prophetic predictions of the coming savior. So the form of his writing is carefully crafted to match the story itself, the unfolding, the flowering, of the promises to Israel in such a way that beginning from Jerusalem, repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in the name of Jesus to all nations.

The Acts Until the Ascension

Luke-Acts, as it is known, is a two volume Gospel. Just as we could call Acts “Part II of the Gospel,” so we could call Luke “The Acts of Jesus until the Ascension.”

One of the hallmarks of Luke’s two volume Gospel is its historical nature. This is apparent from the opening verse, where he tells us that he has compiled a narrative, collecting those eyewitness accounts. His Gospel shows indebtedness to Mark, thought to be the first compiled, but he uses it along with other materials. It is thought that the birth narratives may have been received in conversation with the family of Jesus.

In the nineteenth century, it became fashionable among critical scholars to suggest that Luke-Acts was written some 100 years after Christ, in the second century, and was nothing more than a romantic retelling of the early days of Christianity, more fiction than history. An English scholar by the name of Ramsey was convinced of this view took it upon himself to examine the archaeological evidence and prove it. But his investigations led him instead to the opposite conclusion; that Luke is one of the most historically accurate of the ancient writers. While he errs in the occasional detail — as is commonly the case — he shows an intimate familiarity with the political and geographic details he describes. He peppers his account with historical markers, and overwhelming uses the correct titles and relevant dates of the political leaders he mentions. Note, for instance, the precision of the anchor he provides for the beginning of John the Baptist’s ministry, which is, in many ways, the launch of the Gospel ministry of Christ:

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

Luke, therefore, more than any other New Testament writer (and true to Paul’s preaching) anchors Christianity as a historical faith, and the Gospel we believe as a Gospel that depends upon the historicity of the cross, and the empty tomb. Even the saving work of the ascended Christ in the book of Acts is a work of history, as his Word grows and prospers.

If there is a single verse that sums up this first volume, it is Luke 19:10, the conclusion of the story of Zaccheus: “And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” In this verse we see Jesus’ favored title, “The Son of Man,” and one of the central themes of this gospel in particular: “Salvation.” Structurally, this verse comes at a key juncture of Jesus ministry in Luke, at the completion of his work in Galilee and Judea, and right before he begins to draw near to Jerusalem and his death and resurrection.

Jesus’ favored term for himself is “The Son of Man,” with everything that this title from Daniel 7 implies. He is a heavenly being, who is on a mission to save the lost. Though his followers or opponents often call him Christ, or Messiah, Jesus is aware that their understanding of that title is almost entirely that of a human king, an heir of David who was coming to restore an earthly kingdom. Thus, after Peter confesses that people say that Jesus is “The Christ of God,” Jesus strictly charges them to keep this a secret, and tells them that “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

This teaching, that Jesus was not merely a Son of David, but a heavenly messiah, and furthermore one that had to suffer, was incomprehensible to his followers. Again and again he tells them that he must go to Jerusalem, and be handed over, and die, and Luke tells us that they do not understand him. So it is that the resurrected Christ is burdened to instruct the disciples in exacty this thing: that the Christ should suffer, and rise from the dead. It is only when the Spirit is received from on high that his followers are ultimately understanding of the fact that the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed in the name of the risen Lord who sits at the right hand of the Father.

Jesus’ seeking and saving of the lost is focused not only on the outcasts of Jewish society — such as the despised tax-collector Zaccheus, but also from the very beginning he has Gentiles in his view. This is illustrated in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, but also concretely in the healing of the Centurion’s daughter. Importantly, Luke makes it clear that this mission to the Gentiles was not an afterthought of the work of Christ, but is of the very essence of his mission, and agrees with the way the Lord worked in the Old Testament. Immediately after Jesus is tempted, he begins his ministry at Nazareth, his home town, and is rejected. You of course recall the line that no prophet is honored in his hometown. But Jesus says more than this, turning to the Old Testament examples:

But in truth, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the heavens were shut up three years and six months, and a great famine came over all the land, and Elijah was sent to none of them but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian." When they heard these things, all in the synagogue were filled with wrath.

Luke, the Gentile evangelist to the Gentiles, companion of the Apostle to the Gentiles, makes it abundantly clear that this mission so clearly blessed by the Spirit of Christ in Acts, was also taught by the Christ in the days before his ascension. Thus, the ministry of Christ to seek and save the lost, touches not only every outcast within Israel — the widow, the leper, the tax-collector, the poor — but also the most despised samaritans and uncircumcised outside the covenant community.

The Great Commission

The characteristic means by which Jesus brought salvation was by preaching the good news, the fulfillment of all the Old Testament promises in his person and work. Luke gives us the fullest account of the risen Lord’s instruction to his followers, and it focuses on opening their minds to understand what the Scriptures have said about him:

“These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.

Luke’s version of the Great Commission serves as a bridge between the Old Testament and the New, establishing that the proclamation of the Apostles is precisely that suffering and risen Christ who was promised in the pages of the Old Testament. But it also serves as a bridge between Luke and Acts, because as we turn next week to the pages of Acts, we will see that over 30% of that book is comprised of the sermons of the Apostles and witnesses of Christ. It is, very much, a book of sermons, a testimony to the testimony. And the power of that word preached that itself “grows,” and fuels the growth of the Church, is the Spirit of the Lord who is on high, who is present with his people though he is absent in the flesh.

The risen Christ rules his church through his Apostles. This is perhaps nowhere more clear than in the instruction of Christ immediately following the Lord’s Supper, that inauguration of the New Covenant in his blood. As a debate about who is the greatest in the kingdom arises, Jesus says the following:

You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Jesus says I assign you a kingdom… the word there is the same word as “covenant.” He is saying, “I bequeth to you an inheritance, by covenant,” Just as my father has given me a kingdom. And this is your blessing: that you may eat and drink at his table in his kingdom.

And so we come forward to this table, and we are fed as heirs, sons and daughters of the king. If you come forward in faith, you will not be turned away. For that which once was lost, has been found. And there is much rejoicing.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

John’s Epistles 17: Blessed Assurance (1 John 5:13 - 21)

Sun, 19 Jun 2011 08:35:15 -0400

Texts: 1 John 5:13 - end; Psalm 49:1 - 15

Why Plant a Reformed Church in Washington, DC

Why plant a Reformed Church in Washington, DC?

It may surprise you that this is the question that’s on my mind as we come to the conclusion of our series in 1 John. But as we step back and look at the big picture of John’s epistolary Sermon to his little children, we see once again his focus on first principles, and on the very nature of Christian belief, and salvation. John is writing to a church that has been scarred by false confession, and theological error.

Yes, this is the “Apostolic Church,” warts and all. Never did it exist, from the days of Paul to John, in some mythical purity. Ever were men tempted to turn aside from their first love, from their incarnate Lord, from the Gospel, to false gods, idols, other forms of salvation. It has always been the church’s calling to contend for the truth, to address false sons in her pail, and to cling to the cross of Christ in the midst of false prophets, antichrists, and their false gospels.

John’s focus from the beginning of his sermon is on what is proclaimed, Christ and him crucified. His focus on the true confession of the flesh of Christ is driven by his concern for the cross — that his flesh, and the very godhead — hung on a wooden device at Calvary, for the propitiation of our sins. And this is the font from which the new life of the spirit flows, the new birth, and our victory over sin and death. Am I sinless? Not in myself. My heart condemns me daily. But at the foot of the cross, showered by the blood and water which flows from His side, you better believe I am, and when he returns to judge the living and the dead, I will in my very person be as pure and blameless as he. That is my confidence, that is my assurance.

This is what we proclaim. This is our confidence. That we know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. And He is the true God and eternal life. And the deceivers in the church deny this cross, they promote the God within.

And the world in which we live? It lies in the power of the evil one. It lies under judgment. It is filled with false prophets and antichrists. Jesus is coming back to judge, and those who do not believe in him we proclaim, those who do not confess that God himself has come in the flesh to save us — that God NEEDED to come in the flesh to save us — they are calling God himself a liar. They are deceivers, antichrists. They are under judgment.

It is for the sake of our comfort, and our assurance, that we confess Jesus Christ as true God, the Cross as the source of our life, and

We did not plant a new Reformed church in Washington, DC so that we could form a society of pointy-headed theological nerds, reveling in the teaching of some long dead white guys. No. That is not what it means to be Reformed. We did so to recapture the proclamation of Him who John proclaimed, Christ and the cross, because we find it woefully lacking in our contemporary church. We did to call our brothers and sisters back to this faithful proclamation. We did it to call them back to the water and the blood, which testify to this cross, our baptism, and this meal, signs AND seals of the new life we have in Him. We did it that we — all of us who are in Christ today — might know the comfort and the confidence and the assurance that comes from being in Christ, and remaining in Christ.

Confidence

Last week in looking at this same text, we noted that the purpose of this sermon is to build up our confidence, and our assurance of the reality of the eternal life which is our sure possession, even now, in the midst of sin an death. And we saw that there was a contrast here, where the Gospel was written to unbelievers “so that they might believe, and have eternal life,” this epistle was written as a sermon, to the church, to believers, so that they might know that they have eternal life.

The vast majority of sermons we see in the New Testament — most of them in Acts — are written to unbelievers. Are two best examples of sermons written to the church are the books of Hebrews, and 1 John. And remarkably, in both a central theme is boldness, confidence in the day of judgment. Assurance. And in both instances, the central ingredient in this assurance is what we know about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is, heaven forbid, doctrine.

Calvin has a way of noting aspects of a text that are so obvious that you tend to miss them, and that is the case here:

As there ought to be a daily progress in faith, so he says that he wrote to those who had already believed, so that they might believe more firmly and with greater certainty, and thus enjoy a fuller confidence as to eternal life. Then the use of doctrine is, not only to initiate the ignorant in the knowledge of Christ, but also to confirm those more and more who have been already taught. It therefore becomes us assiduously to attend to the duty of learning, that our faith may increase through the whole course of our life. For there are still in us many remnants of unbelief, and so weak is our faith that what we believe is not yet really believed except there be a fuller confirmation.

But we ought to observe the way in which faith is confirmed, even by having the office and power of Christ explained to us. For the Apostle says that he wrote these things, that is, that eternal life is to be sought nowhere else but in Christ, in order that they who were believers already might believe, that is, make progress in believing. It is therefore the duty of a godly teacher, in order to confirm disciples in the faith, to extol as much as possible the grace of Christ, so that being satisfied with that, we may seek nothing else.

And indeed, it is about eternal things that John urges us to have confidence in our prayers, even as Christ taught us to pray to our heavenly Father concerning heavenly things. As we discussed last week, this concluding discussion about sin as a life and death matter is in keeping with John’s view that eternal life is ours now, and that the principle of life within us, the gift of the Spirit, entails a turning away from sin and death. This is the source of that characteristic teaching we find throughout this sermon, not without its difficulties: Those who have been born of God do not keep on sinning. It’s not natural for heavenly Creatures to sin, and we are now heavenly creatures. It can’t last. It is like fish gasping for breath out of water, bound to die. Likewise, sin is bound to leave us in its entirety, we will be pure as Christ is pure. It’s just a matter of time.

But sin, in the meantime, dogs us. And so our key battle as Christians is this; mortifying the flesh, praying for deliverance from our own sin, even as we pray for the deliverance of our neighbors. Even though sin in its very nature is deathly, among the saints, not all sin leads to death. Sin in the saints is like that fish out of water. It is breathing its last.

The Knowledge of Eternal Life

In these closing lines of his sermon, John unpacks what the knowledge of eternal life is, what it consists of. It can be summed up in this closing thought, that we are in Jesus Christ, who is the true God and eternal life. This is why the flesh and deity of Christ is so essential to John preaching, because in him our humanity is redeemed, and the divine power of his eternal life is ours. But there are three elements of this concluding knowledge: That we are protected from sin by Jesus, that we belong to God, and that our life is in Christ.

We are Protected from Sin by Jesus

First, Jesus Christ, the one who has been born of God, the one through whom the world was created, protects us from the evil one, from temptation and Sin. We cannot be harmed.

Now, John states this truth we know provocatively: everyone who has been born of God does not keep on sinning. John has already told us this in chapter three, the one who abides in God does not keep on sinning, he can’t keep on sinning. He told us that he is writing this sermon so that we may not sin.

Our sinlessness is, preeminently, an eschatological truth. It is a truth about our future, that is nonetheless true today, and effects how we live today. The remnants of sin in our life today do not render this statement, this knowledge false. In part, because we are already sinless in Christ, because we are in Luther’s famous phrase, simul justus et peccator, simultaneously just and sinful. We are seated in the heavenlies with Christ — that is, we are seated in the holy place, where only the sinless may go, and yet God’s hand of judgment does not touch us. Why? Because we are seated there with Christ, in Christ. And when he comes in judgment, as John told us already, we shall be pure, as he is pure. As he is, so are we in this world. God is light, in him there is no darkness at all, and we are children of light.

Though sin remains in our life, our lives are not characterized by sin. We are not in pursuit of sin. We mourn our sin. We aren’t sorry we got caught, we mourn the crime itself.

It is easy to despair in this world. It is easy to be anxious in this world. But we have been born of God, we are his children. And we have an older brother, the one who was born of God. And he will protect us. His protection is secure.

My sheep hear my voice, Jesus said, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one."

Do you see the present and the future hope in this promise? Jesus also said

And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.

If we know we have eternal life, then we know that he will protect us, that he will raise us up on the last day.

We Belong To God

On first glance, John’s second truth doesn’t seem all that comforting of a thought: We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one. And yet it is an expansion, and a personalization, of what he has already said. We are the ones who have been born of God, we are from God, we are God’s own flesh and blood. We are of the family of God.

And furthermore, the world in which we live is not our home. It lies in the power of the evil one. The difficulties, the trials, the attacks that seem to characterize our lives… they are not a sign of God’s absence, his faithlessness. The are a marker of his salvation, his deliverance. The world is at war with us precisely because we are from God. It is what we should expect, the suffering, the trials of the church in this age are precisely what has been promised us.

John’s church had undergone schism, many false prophets had gone out into the world. That is tragic, that is sad. The church suffers under such strife. But it is not surprising. The false prophets who have gone forth in the world reflect the spirit of that world, the spirit of the evil one in whose power it is gripped. He is a liar. His great enemy is the church of Christ, the very Gospel truth which we preach, and proclaim. Of course he sends deceivers, wolves, ravening lions into our midst. Of course our cities are filled with beautiful church buildings that are nothing more than white-washed tombs, filled with stinking, rotting corpses that think they are perfectly well, that cry out “Peace, Peace!” when there is no peace.

Is this a Christian City? Are we a Christian nation? Of course not. There can be no such thing under the sun, for all things under the sun are vanity. And the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.

This is what is known, dear brothers and sisters, as the Christians antithesis with the world in which we live, and it is good news. And we should hold this knowledge in mind in all our undertakings in the world. The Kingdom of God, the heavenly kingdom, is right here, when we gather around this table and break bread, and receive the forgiveness of sins, and enjoy a foretaste of the beloved fellowship that is ours above. We have nothing to fear, though this world and devils seek to undo us. If we think we are promised progress here below, if we think we are promised health, wealth, and prosperity here below, we will be disappointed. Our faith will be shipwrecked. But we are not, so our faith is sure. We are promised eternal life, we have eternal life, now, because we taste the life of the kingdom that is to come.

We are in Jesus Christ

Do not miss the claim of these closing verses of John’s sermon: Jesus Christ is the True God and eternal life. He is the Son of God who has come and given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true, and be in him. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side — the true God — he has made him known.

John here lobs his final dart at the heart of his Gnostic opposition, his super-spiritual opponents who claimed to have the spirit of God within themselves, and sent their followers on a quest to find God within. It is the Son of God, not us, who has gone on a quest. And he has found what he was looking for. He has completed the mission he was sent to achieve. John reminds his church that all who receive this Son of God, who believe in his name, have been born not of the blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. Our understanding, our knowledge of God, is his gift to us. It is received in faith, when we believe on the name of the Son, who is indeed the Lord, strong and mighty to save.

Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The one who was seen, heard, touched, and now is proclaimed. He is life, in him is life. The one who believes on him has life.

Little children, keep yourselves from idols. Does this seem like a strange conclusion to you? How is it in keeping with John’s sermon?

Notice that he has concluded with the statement that Jesus Christ is the True God, and has defended the doctrinal core of our faith throughout, that Jesus Christ is God come in the flesh, dwelling with us, saving us. He is the very image of the invisible God, the “icon” of the unseen God.

Do not abandon your first love; do not abandon Christ. Is the church today tempted by idolatry? Do we worship Christ alone, or are we torn asunder by our love of power, of money, of influence, of wit? If you worship a false Christ, you are an idolater. Abide in the truth, and he will abide in you.

Beloved, love one another.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

John’s Epistles 16: We are in Jesus Christ (1 John 5:13 - 21)

Sun, 12 Jun 2011 20:55:14 -0400

Texts: 1 John 5:13 - 21; Psalm 65

Confidence in Prayer

In our concluding section, John states clearly the audience, and purpose, of his writing, just as he did in his Gospel. John wrote his Gospel so that those who had not seen might nevertheless believe in Jesus, and have eternal life. He wrote his epistle to those of us who believe, so that we might know — and I would say also, know more deeply — the eternal life that we possess. He wrote to us, dear Christians, that we might be comforted and assured and strengthened in our faith.

Some have seen this closing section as something of a grab bag of unrelated topics, as we see by the fact that our translation breaks it up into disparate short paragraphs. But it is really a quite coherent conclusion of all that he has written, a description of the fruits of the confidence we have in our faith, the fruits it bears in our prayers, in our relation to the evil one in the world, and a final restatement of our confidence in Christ. Look how this first verse, and these last three paragraphs focus on what we know.

Eternal life in John’s writings is not merely a future hope, but is always a present possession. Jesus says in John’s Gospel “whoever believes on the Son has eternal life… whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.” “He has passed from death to life, and does not come into judgment.” The life that we will have forever begins now — this is the principle within the believer that stands over and against the principle of sin — and here, the knowledge that we have this eternal life begets in the believer confidence:

And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him.

Now, in chapter 3, John already spoke of the confidence we have before the father, likewise saying that “whatever we ask, we receive of him.” Here, we have the identical promise, with the clarifying instruction that he hears us when we ask “according to his will.”

Our sinful and promiscuous minds leap to all sorts of questions about prayer, but before we turn to the questions raised by this promise, shall we not dwell on the promise itself? Think on the instructions included in the Old Covenant for bringing a fit offering to the Lord, an offering to ensure that your prayer for forgiveness would be heard, that you offering of thanksgiving would be received of the Lord. As the book of Hebrews reminds us, these offerings both offered a way of approach, and a constant reminder of the obstacles that stood between us and God. They are a reminder of sin. Think further of those who were far off before Christ came, the idolatrous nations who cried out to idols who though having ears and eyes, were deaf and mute. They cried out to their gods in utter futility. As Elijah said to the prophets of Baal, “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” Think of your friends in school, in the workplace, the very leaders of our culture, who blaspheme the name of God daily, yet don’t hesitate to cry out to their maker in ignorance, in their darkest hour. As John tells us in Revelation, the rest of mankind neither repents nor gives up their worship of demons and idols that neither see nor hear nor walk.

But our God, who has given us eternal life, hears us when we ask. We shall therefore not only have the confidence to ask, but the confidence that he hears us with a propitious ear. That he hears us, like a loving father hears their child who cries out in distress and pain. How do you respond to difficulties, to distress, to temptation? Do you cry out to God? Do you ask him for strength, for faith, for deliverance? What a promise.

Pause. Soak that in. The eternal God of the Universe, the one who Psalm 65 tells us established the mountains, who stills the roaring seas and their waves, he hears us, and he hears us when we pray because he has atoned for our transgressions, and our iniquities which prevail against me. God is not distant. He is not deaf. He is not asleep.

The Content of Our Prayer

And now the questions and objections come. What good is prayer if God is only going to give me what He wills anyway? Why make me ask? How do I know what his will is? And why aren’t all my prayers answered. Why does my back still hurt? Why did my child die? Why doesn’t my family believe in God? Isn’t this an empty promise… God will give you whatever you ask, so long as you ask for what he wants to give you.

The key to our confidence in prayer, is the content of our prayers. Jesus, of course, knew a thing or two about praying to his Father. In Him the eternal Son had to learn to pray as a man to his Heavenly Father. He, too, told us that whatever we asked of our heavenly Father, we would receive. And he taught us how to pray:

Our Father, who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil.  For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen

I commend to you our catechism’s instruction on this prayer, and how it ought to shape all our prayers, not merely serve as a form for prayer in Christian worship. For instance, regarding the petition that “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” the catechism instructs us, “That is: grant that we and all men may renounce our own will, and without any gainsaying obey Thy will, which alone is good; that so every one may discharge the duties of his office and calling as willingly and faithfully as the angels in heaven.”

When John tells us that he hears us if we ask anything according to his name, he is echoing the teaching of Christ regarding prayer. Have you noticed how other worldly the Lord’s Prayer is? It is focused on our Lord’s heavenly kingdom, the glorifying of his name, the forgiveness of sins, the deliverance from temptation and evil. It’s one concession to our material needs is that the Lord provides our daily bread, the most basic, minimal concession to our bodily need. As the catechism teaches: That is: be pleased to provide for all our bodily need, that we may thereby acknowledge Thee to be the only fountain of all good, and that without Thy blessing neither our care and labor nor Thy gifts can profit us; and, therefore, that we may withdraw our trust from all creatures and place it alone in Thee.

Notice that John’s encouragement in prayer closely follows the Lord’s instruction. The context here is controlled by the topic of the eternal life we possess, and concern for the life of our brother who has fallen into sin. He thinks, in this context, as well of our protection from the powers of the world and the evil one, he thinks as well as the hallowing of the name of Jesus Christ, He who is the true God and the source of our eternal life.

Do your prayers focus your mind, your heart, on heaven? On your heavenly Father? On his will? This prayer, I guarantee, will always be answered: “Lord, forgive me my sins!” This prayer will always be answered: “Lord, sustain me through the evils and temptations of this world, protect my faith, my life, from the evil one.” This prayer will always be answered: “Dear God, provide what I need for bodily sustenance, and teach me to be satisfied with your good and gracious provision, whatever difficulties it sends my way, for I trust that you know what I need more than I do myself.”

Prayer for Life

Sin is a matter of life and death, that much is clear from John’s epistle. Those who have been born of God possess eternal life; they have the principle of life in them, and this is contrary to their former ways of death, to their former ways of sinning. In contrast to the love of God, the world hates God’s children. The world is passing away, along with its sinful desires, and its darkness, but those who are in the light, who have passed from darkness into light and overcome the world by their faith, they do the will of God. This is a fundamental antithesis between the children of God, and the world in which they live, and it forms the basis of the comfort which he offers his church in their time of crisis. It is the antithesis between death and life. “Whoever does not love, abides in death.”

But John recognizes — as he has from the opening verses of his sermon — that sin yet remains in the children of God, that we shall not be pure until he returns. Though the principle within us, life, is the exact opposite of the principle in the world, death — as opposite as light and dark — nevertheless, some darkness remains. And when we see this sin in our brother or sister, we should ask God to give him life. And God will do this. This is, explicitly, one of those requests that is according to God’s will, it is a request that he will honor.

Before you get lost in speculation about what the “sin leading to death” is, think back to the last time you saw a fellow believer sinning. What was your response? What did you do? What did you think? Did you pray for God to restore them, to shine his light into their hearts, and shut out the darkness. Did you pray that he forgive them, did you pray that they might overcome that sin, and enjoy the fruits of sanctification in that area of their life? Or did you curse them, berate them, complain about them, and gossip about them. What did you do?

Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. What did Jesus do, the last time, before he died, he saw someone sinning? “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”

John’s sermon draws on the antithesis between the darkness and the light, the church and the world, to comfort the saints. Their love, their truth, are marks of their abiding in the Father, and his life. Their distinctiveness from the world is a mark of their deliverance. Yet John here in closing urges the body of Christ to hold its members in love, in prayer. To pray constantly for the forgiveness, the upbuilding of the saints, the body.

What then is a sin leading to death? John doesn’t tell us, he doesn’t tell his children. Presumably, they knew, so he didn’t need to explain. But remember, the church John is writing to has had many false prophets and antichrists leave its midst, and “go out into the world,” and the world, because it does not love God but hates him, the world abides in death. These false prophets and antichrists had committed sins that had literally lead them to death — denying their sin, denying their need for the cross of Christ, denying that the Son of God came in the flesh. If the church had crossed from death to life, they had crossed — seemingly — from life to death, or at least from the fellowship of the living, and back into the world of the dead.

There is no guarantee, in other words, that God will give life to these false prophets, and these antichrists. The Mosaic law offered forgiveness via guilt offering for sins done unintentionally, for sins that were regretted by their perpetrators, sins that were a regular occurrence in the life of the faithful, a lapse of the flesh. But that same law distinguished those unintentional sins from those done “with a high hand…reviling the Lord… despising the word of the Lord.” For this sinner, the sacrifices of the Law had no recourse… “That person shall be utterly cut off from among his people… his iniquity shall be on him.” (Num 15.30 – 31).

A sin leading to death is not a particular sin, a particular act. It is not a class of sins, “mortal” vs. “venial,” as taught by the Church in Rome. Rather, it is a sin perpetrated by a particular kind of sinner, in a particular spirit, a sin that despises the very idea of God’s law, and reviles the Lord himself.

Notice John’s instruction: If you see a brother sinning, you are instructed to ask that God gives him life, that is, forgives this sin, and delivers him from its power. John frequently explains himself by way of opposites, and his second instruction is not an instruction to NOT do something, but rather, a clarification of what he is not telling us to do: “I do not say that one should pray for that one,” that is, the one who is sinning unto death. John is not telling us to not pray for anyone… after all, Christ prayed for his crucifiers. But he is suggesting that we do not enjoy this same confidence that God will give life to those who appear to us to be sinning in a high-handed way, and reviling the very word of God. Our prayers for them will necessarily be in deference to God’s will to save. Those antichrists, those false prophets and deceivers who have gone out of their midst, they were, as John wrote earlier, “never of us,” they were hypocrites all along. And their sin of full apostasy is a grave and serious one indeed, such that we have good reason to doubt their eventual restoration.

Conclusion

So, despite the principle of life in us, despite the seriousness of all sin, every sin, in our lives — and that it is serious is clear in that John tells us to pray for restoration from it — despite all this, there is nevertheless a sin that prevails even among the saints. We are not yet pure, as we will be. And this sin need not lead to our death, so long as our faith remains strong, so long as we place our confidence in him who alone has power to deliver us.

O you who hear prayer,  to you shall all flesh come. When iniquities prevail against me,  you atone for our transgressions. Blessed is the one you choose and bring near,  to dwell in your courts! We shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house,  the holiness of your temple!

The Lord has chosen you and brought you near to his font of forgiveness and grace. Come to the table, dwell in his courts, be satisfied with the goodness of his house, and the holiness of his temple.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

John’s Epistles 15: Faith Founded on Witnesses (1 John 5:5 - 12)

Sun, 5 Jun 2011 20:43:17 -0400

Texts: 1 John 5:5 - 12; Psalm 2

Faith Founded on Witnesses

We are drawing near the end of John’s Sermon — next week will be our final message in this series. And we would do well not to underestimate John’s writing, or his mind, not to mention the power of the Spirit working through these things. John is concluding a very intentionally constructed sermon — this is no stream of consciousness reflection on the love of God — and he concludes it very intentionally. John, again, has made things simple for us, stating his theme clearly and repeatedly. Look at the text. It is concerned with faith — belief in Jesus as the Son of God — and the testimony, or witness, which that faith is founded upon.

As we consider the nature of faith, and its foundation on the testimony of the spirit, and God, we would do well to think back to the opening lines of this sermonic epistle:

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us— that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.

John’s sermon is his testimony to what he has heard, seen, and touched. It is his personal testimony, and as we have learned throughout this sermon, it is coming to the church at a moment of crisis. Antichrists have arisen, deceivers who are leading astray, denying their sin, denying that Jesus is the Son of God come in the flesh.

And into this crisis, the aged John asserts his apostolic authority — the authority of the last living follower of Christ, the last one to have seen, the last one to have heard, the last one to have touched, even leaned upon the breast, of his savior. John is the last one that can personally testify to what the Father has made manifest.

This is a scary moment for the church. It is a moment of truth, the moment when the apostolic training wheels will be taken off, one way or another. And just as John opened the epistle with his own testimony, the testimony of a man soon to pass away, so he concludes his letter by leaving his little children with a lasting testimony, in fact, two lasting testimonies. The Spirit and the water and the blood, who all three agree, and the testimony of God himself concerning His Son.

Do you hear what he is saying to his little children? Do you hear what he is saying to you today? Your faith, by which you conquer the world, is established upon a firm foundation, not upon the testimony of mere men, not upon the strength of your willing or doing. For it is a gift from above. You who who have received him, who believed in his name, have become children of God, because you were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but born of God, and your faith is established on the testimony of God to his Son.

Our text today deals with three things, and a result. First, is the content of this saving faith — what is it to believe on the one who came by water and blood. Second, the testimony of the Spirit and the water and the blood. And third, the testimony of God. When these things are taken together, we see that they hang together with their purpose, their goal, namely, eternal life in the Son.

The Content of This Faith

Faith, for John, is not a mere emotion, or attitude. An optimistic spirit, a trust that things will turn out OK. It has an object, and a content. The object of faith is Jesus, God’s Son, the Savior of the world, and its content is specific in terms of confessing who Jesus is, that he has come from God in the flesh. Remember, the background here are opponents who deny that Jesus was God incarnate, God in the flesh. And one version of this error held that at the baptism of the man Jesus, a divine spirit descended upon a mere man, and prior to the death of Jesus, this Spirit left the man to die — because, of course, it would be an abomination for God to suffer and die. And so, this gnostic heresy denied the necessity of the cross and cut to the very core of the Christian confession — God himself hanging on a cross for sinners.

So what does it mean to believe that Jesus “came by water and blood… not by the water only but by the water and the blood”? John most likely has in mind here precisely this gnostic error, that Jesus was made divine at his baptism (water), and was not divine during his death on the cross (blood). Hence the reference to “not coming by water only.” The Gnostics taught just this, that Jesus “the Christ” was only “the Christ” in and through his baptism — water only. And, emphatically, John says that is not who we confess.

The faith that overcomes the world doesn’t put its confidence in some abstract divine power — the higher power of Alcoholics Anonymous, or the First Mover of Aristotle. Saving faith recognizes the need for a God-man to die in the sinners place. We overcome the world, because “we” — human flesh — overcame the “the world” — sin and death and satan — at Calvary. We had to. Saving faith entails a confession of our sin (see the opening of the sermon).

John preaches the cross, a crucified Lord. Recall that scene at the foot of the cross — and remember, John was there — when the soldier pierced his side: “… and at once there came out blood and water. He who saw it has borne witness — his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth — that you also may believe.” More on the significance of this water and blood in a moment, but notice that Christ’s death is the height of his saving work; it is that moment where he is lifted up, and draws men to himself, that moment when the saving balm of water and blood pours fourth from the lamb of God, true, living water, life-giving blood.

This is the content of the faith that brings eternal life, that saves, that conquers the world. This is the doctrine that you must know — not if you want to be a pointy-headed theological nerd, but the doctrine you must know to have life, and have it abundantly.

The Three that Testify

So, we believe in a crucified Lord, a Lamb that was slain, and that His death was the source of the life-giving Spirit through whom we have life. What does John mean when he says that the Spirit is the one who testified, and that there are three that testify together and agree, the Spirit and the Water and the blood?

Testimony and witness is a central theme in John’s Gospel, as it is here, and the background is Jewish jurisprudence, which involved almost entirely around the hearing of witnesses. Deuteronomy 17.6 tells us “On the evidence of two witnesses or of three witnesses the one who is to die shall be put to death; a person shall not be put to death on the evidence of one witness.” The truth of a matter could not be established by one witness, but two, or better three, was required. Jesus himself says in John 5 that “If I alone bear witness about myself, my testimony is not deemed true.” Jesus continues:

You sent to John, and he has borne witness to the truth. Not that the testimony that I receive is from man, but I say these things so that you may be saved. … But the testimony that I have is greater than that of John. For the works that the Father has given me to accomplish, the very works that I am doing, bear witness about me that the Father has sent me. And the Father who sent me has himself borne witness about me. His voice you have never heard, his form you have never seen, and you do not have his word abiding in you, for you do not believe the one whom he has sent. You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.

Jesus submits himself to the legal standards of veracity. It is not simply a matter of his word against the Pharisees. He references John, but notes that John’s testimony is primarily to convince unbelievers. Greater testimony is that which he receives from the Father, and the very works and signs he does, and finally the scriptures that bear witness. Later, Jesus says that he does bear witness about himself, and the Father who sent him also bears witness. Crucially, the fact to which all these witnesses testify is that Jesus has been sent from God, that he is God’s Son, and that he has given us life in his Son.

So as John is reflecting on the content of the faith that gives us life, and the importance of the water and the blood of Christ — the baptism and the cross — he reflects on how testimony was born at these moments. Remember, at his baptism we are told that “John bore witness that ‘I saw the Spirit descend on Him,’” and “I have seen and bear witness that this is the Son of God.” Likewise, at his death, John the evangelist sees the water and the blood flow from his side, and bears witness with great solemnity in the form of an oath — “his testimony is true, and he knows he is telling the truth” — that these things were so. Remember the Centurion in Mark’s Gospel as Jesus breathed his last: “Truly, this man was the Son of God.”

But John tells us something more than that the historical events of the Baptism and death of Christ reveal his true divinity. He tells us something about today. He is speaking in the present tense: “The Spirit is the one who testifies… there are three that testify.” Clearly, John is thinking about the Spirit who has been given as a gift to the church, the helper that Jesus sent when he went away, saying “when the Helper comes whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me.” And this testifies today in and through the elements of water and blood, as they serve sacramentally in the ministry of the church. In our Baptism and at this Lord’s Table, it is the Spirit who is present now with us — for Jesus has more important work to do in heaven. It is the Spirit who is with us now, testifying that Jesus is the one sent from God with eternal life, and testifying to us that it is in him that that life is found.

The Testimony of God is Greater

Closely related to this testimony of the three witnesses, but distinct, is the Testimony of God, a greater testimony than the testimony of men that is received and acceptable in court. Closely related, because of course the Spirit is God, so the threefold testimony is from God as well. But distinct, because John switches from speaking in the present tense — “The Spirit testifies” — to speaking emphatically in the past tense. He says “The testimony of God that he has born,” and he says it twice. In the Greek, this is even more emphatic, repeating the same root, “The testimony that has been testified.” For you grammarians out there, this is the perfect tense, suggesting something that is done and completed in the past. This is not the same thing as the ongoing testimony of the Spirit.

What is this testimony of God? It is nothing other than Jesus Christ himself. “This is the testimony, that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.” This is my beloved Son. With him am I pleased. Listen to Him. In Him is life. Jesus said For the works that the Father has given me to accomplish, the very works that I am doing, bear witness about me that the Father has sent me. This is the testimony given about the Christ in Psalm 2, “You are my Son… today I have begotten you. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry. Blessed are all who take refuge in him.”

It is that which John proclaims in his epistle, in his preaching, that which he bears witness to that he has manifested the Father’s love for the world, yet John recognizes that that which he proclaims is greater than he who proclaims it. The testimony of God, concerning Christ, is greater than any testimony that John could give to the saving deity of Christ. Even though he had seen, heard, and touched the Lamb of God, his testimony, his ministry in the Church, pales in comparison to the ministry of the three witnesses — the Spirit, the water, and the blood — and the ministry of the Father Himself.

Remember where we began, in the beginning of this epistle, and today’s sermon, and in the beginning of this series. This church is in crisis, torn apart by antichrists, and false prophets. And John says, don’t listen to them, test the spirits. And John, nearing his own death, says, you needn’t have me around to do so.

The Foundation of Faith

Note well what John isn’t saying — the testimony of the Spirit is within you. John’s emphasis both in his Gospel and here on witnesses and testimony is ultimately a case for the reasonableness of faith. Not scientific reasonableness, but justification from Scripture, from History, from our experience with Jesus Christ.

Over against the gnostics, John is telling us to not look within, but to look outside ourselves for the confidence of our faith in the day of judgment. Just as he told us last week to look outside ourselves in love, so he tells us to look outside ourselves in our faith. We may be tempted to read “the testimony of the Spirit” as an internal voice… but this cuts against the entire grain of John’s argument about witnesses. Note, the Spirit testifies through external elements — water, and blood. John is telling us to look to this table spread before us here, to drink the blood and eat the Flesh of our Savior, the bread of life, who has come down from heaven. His flesh is true food, his blood is true drink.

And God’s testimony in Christ — though historical fact, perfect, and past — nevertheless has effects today, in us. The works of Christ which prove that he is from the Father, these works are still working themselves out in us. “Whoever believes has the testimony of God in himself.” He has life in himself. And the force of God’s testimony bears fruit in our believing, or unbelieving. That historical fact of Jesus — more than just historical fact because he lives in heaven now — is either received, or rejected by us. It makes us alive when received, and when rejected it makes God out to be a liar. The truth of Christ is alive today, working within earshot of my voice. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life.

John isn’t presenting this as an apologetic argument to convince the skeptic. In the following verse, he tells us “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.” John wrote his Gospel that those who had not seen Jesus, and yet believed, would be blessed. He writes this epistle that those who believe, might know in an hour of crisis, and doubt, that they have eternal life, and that they might seek that life not within — not in their ecstasy, or emotions, or visions, or sinlessness — but without, in Christ. That they might look to the cross, to the water and blood that flowed from his side, to the Spirit who applies that water and blood to our believing hearts even this day, and say, “There, there alone, is my life.”

Whoever has the Son has life.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

John’s Epistles 14: Faith and Love (1 John 4:13 - 5:4)

Sun, 29 May 2011 10:40:44 -0400

Texts: 1 John 4:13 - 5:4; Isaiah 13:9 - 13

By This We Know

Does God abide in you? Do you abide in him? Has he given you of his Spirit? Have you been born of the Spirit — are you spiritual?

As we consider this text before us today — a most beautiful text addressing the glorious theme of the love of God — it is crucial that we remember John’s context, and the crisis in the church to whom he is writing. Factions have arisen in the church, and the group that left claimed to be super-spiritual. They claimed to be sinless. They claimed to have an inside track to God. They claimed to know God intimately, experientially. They didn’t care much about doctrine, or the cross. Why should they? Because sin didn’t bother them anymore, they didn’t worry much about Jesus, or the cross. Why bother with sacrifice, propitiation, when you have the Spirit of God. When you are spiritual in your very being. When you are breathing in the very spirit of God.

While we don’t know for sure who John is writing again, his description matches the group we have come to know as Gnostics, from the Greek word for knowledge. They were the enlightened ones, “in the know.” The Gnostics were enthusiasts — literally, this Greek word means “God in you.” Their religion was selling an experience of the divine — they had all been born again, usually through some cultic ritual where they may have literally been bathed in the blood of a bull.

Have you ever been in a church with enthusiasts? Christians who claimed a knowledge, or an experience, or a speaking in tongues, that placed them on a higher plane? Christians that claimed to no longer struggle with sin on a daily basis, like mere carnal Christians do? It is unnerving. If you don’t share their experience, their gift, their tongue, it can cause you to doubt your faith. In college, I was placed with a random roommate after returning from overseas. This individual had a Pentecostal conversion experience while I was living with him… I don’t know if it was sincere, or if it stuck. But he returned shortly thereafter and told me he had a word of knowledge, that he had been instructed by God to lay his hands on me, and pray, and so he did. And he started quivering as he did so, mumbling, I think, in tongues.

I don’t mean to mock him in any way, but he was, I think, gravely confused in his faith; he struggled mightily during that brief term we lived together. And he was trying to emulate an experience he had seen, he was trying — I think — to convince himself that he had the Spirit of God, that he was saved. And in his performance, he caused me to wonder… do I have the Spirit? I don’t have any ecstatic visions, I don’t have any charismatic gifts. Am I saved? Am I holy enough, spiritual enough?

As John’s sermon reaches its crescendo with his theme of the love of God, note well that this is his concern. He repeats twice: “By this we know…” By this we know that we abide in him, and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. Notice, beloved of God, how John anchors the inner, spiritual reality in the outer, concrete manifestation. As the enthusiasts fled to the precincts of their minds, and of their personal experience, he reminds the children of God that they have been born of the spirit in their baptism, that they have confessed before the church that Jesus is the Son of God. Have you confessed your faith before the assembly? And ultimately, this confession bears fruit and comes to perfection in the faithful obedience of God’s children, in their love one for another, not in the flight from the world, but in their loving service of their neighbors in it.

To often we fail to note this problem with the Pentecostal, the enthusiast. It is natural for Christians not to judge the experiences of other believers, not to doubt their testimony of what they have said, or experienced. But the Pentecostal, by putting so much stock in their experience, in God in them, grossly undermines the external testimony of the saints, and calls it into doubt. John’s epistle is written against this kind of mania, and this is why he urges us to live in the light of an outward looking faith, not inward. This is why he urges us to love in the strongest of terms. You want your faith to be strengthened? Love one another, care for the children of God.

By this we know. By the Spirit, by your faith, and confession, and by your love. Be comforted, little flock. He abides in you.

Love and Faith

No other Apostle speaks with such passion about the imperative of love for the Christian, and no other Apostle speaks as precisely about the nature of that love, its source, and its relation to faith — no one talks so powerfully about love as a gift, and love as a command. He uses the word over forty times in this short sermon, so it is easy sometimes to be a bit overwhelmed, and to not hear his precise instruction in the matter. So I want to draw your attention today to how John talks in three ways about Christian love. First, the relation between love and faith, next, the relation between love and fear, and finally, the relation between the two great commands, love of God and love of neighbor.

The priority of God’s love is absolutely clear for John. We love, because he first loved us. And God’s love comes to us preemininently in his Son. In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be a propitiation for his sins. We know love, because he laid down his life for us, and our confession that Jesus is the Son of God, our testimony that the Father has sent the Son to be the Savior of the world, demonstrates that we have come to know and believe the love of God. To know the love of God, is to believe the Gospel.

This gives the lie, does it not, to those who would promote “Deeds, not creeds.” We love because we know God’s love, and believe in God’s love. Our loving deeds presuppose a knowledge of God’s love — the sending of his son as a propitiation for our sins. There is a heck of a lot of creed in that deed. So John can say that we “know and believe the love that God has for us,” we believe that God loves us because we know and understand the details of our fall into sin and misery, the mission of his son to save us, his eternal, covenanted love for us, his calling us when we were wandering away, his service as a Good shepherd, who not only pursued the lost sheep, but laid down his life for him when they were found. You must believe the love of God — creed — before you can love. There are no loving deeds without creeds.

Now, if you have ever heard preaching that has caused you to doubt your faith, listen closely to the Apostle. If you have been told, as particular Puritans are wont to say, that you must examine your love, your affections, and be certain that the love of God has truly taken root in your heart before you can be confident in your salvation, note well what John says. “Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him.” Oh, I know that Jesus is the Son of God, but I just can’t believe that he died for a sinner like me. I just can’t believe that my faith is genuine… it’s been years, and my life is such a mess. I don’t know if my faith is strong enough, sincere enough, if I have surrendered enough. Do you believe he is God’s Son? Do you believe God sent him to save the world? Do you know you’re a sinner that needs saving, that needs the propitiating death, the sacrifice, that he laid down on the cross for you? God abides in you, and you in God.

Love and Fear

One might ask, Why does it matter? Why should I care whether I abide in God, or God abides in me? Why do I need to know that I love God, that I abide in his commandments? The short answer: The day of judgment is coming, the great and mighty day of the Lord.

God’s day of judgment is not some relic of Old Testament religion, that is now set aside in the New Testament, where we all just follow Jesus, and hold hands, and sing kumbaya. It is at the center of the message that John proclaims, John, who walked with Jesus, who was among his closest friends, who cared for his mother after his death. It is the last hour, he writes. Fear has to do with punishment; punishment is coming for all who do not abide in God, and have God abiding in them, for all who are not born of the Spirit.

The day of the Lord is frightening, horrific. Our secular imagination has conjured many terrible visions of the apocalypse. I remember being haunted by nuclear holocaust as a child. Terrorist attack has struck this city, and some are still frightened by the prospects of future attack. Global warming, perhaps, natural disaster. Tsunami. Hurricane. Tornado. 2011 has seen its share of terrors.

But behold, Isaiah tells us, the day of the Lord is cruel with wrath and fierce anger. It will destroy the sinners from the land, and all our imaginings pale in comparison. For when that terror comes — when the sun goes dark, and the earth trembles — it will be an expression of God’s anger against you, if you are not covered by the blood of the lamb. That tsunami will have your name on it, if you are arrogant, or proud, that earthquake will bring you down. And your sins will rise up, every one of them, against you and bring you down. A day devoted to the outpouring of the personal anger and malice of the creator of the universe against you, rebellious sinner.

But, we have confidence for the day of judgment. We cry out, with John, “Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus! Come in Judgment! Rescue us, bring us home. For some a terror, but for us a joy. What blessed reunion. To be with our Lord, face to face.

Why are we so bold? God’s love is perfected in us. Did you hear that? The God who is love, chose not to rest in his love, his being, but to pour himself out for us, to perfect his love in us, in his church.

If you really want a shock, listen closely to these words: “…because as he is, so also are we in this world.” Excuse me? He is love. “As he is…” God is love; we are love, in this world. This isn’t a mistake — although all sorts of manuscripts show that scribes tried to change this verse, to correct it, because they couldn’t believe it. To explain it away in a marginal note. But it’s not the first time he’s said it. In chapter 3, John wrote “when he appears, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”

Jesus is coming back, with the stored up wrath of God against sin, but we have nothing to worry about, because his great act of love has been perfected in us, because his righteous act has made us righteous. When God looks at us — now — he sees little children who are as loving and faithful and selfless and obedient as Jesus was when he was hanging on the cross. Well done, my good and faithful son, well done.

God’s perfect love casts out fear, because it is perfected in us. Our day of judgment, literally, is past. It has come and gone. Christ underwent the judgment, our judgment, at the cross, and so when he appears we shall appear like him. John tells us this isn’t always apparent now — indeed, not until the moment he returns will we be pure as he is pure. Nevertheless, his love is now perfected in us. By faith, we have the full fruit of the victory, we are conquerers, we have overcome the world — by our faith. And by our faith alone.

We Love Because He First Loved Us

Do you see now why this sermon against the enthusiasts, against the gnostics, against those who are consumed with their personal Jesus, their own experience — do you see now why John’s argument reaches its crescendo in the theme of love? God’s love, and our love? Love of neighbor is the necessary fruit born by Christ’s love for us on the cross.

You love God? Prove it. You know God, the God who is love? Show me. God has spoken to you? His commandments are plain for all to see and hear, and they are not burdensome.

Love, for John, is a triangle. God’s love for us necessarily is perfected, finds its goal, in our love for our neighbor. He laid down his life for us? We ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. This is love. It is like a smoothly operating basketball drill, where three players pass and catch the ball in a single motion. You believe a false gospel, if your gospel is all about you, about your experience. You don’t know the God of love — your claim to divine knowledge is false — if you don’t love your neighbor.

John gives three quick arguments why the claim to love God MUST result in love of neighbor. First, if you don’t love the neighbor you can see, how can you claim to love the God you can’t see. The one who says he loves God and doesn’t love his name is a liar, a name John reserves for his opponents in the church. Again, John is arguing against the Gnostics. Don’t claim some invisible love, when you are visibly failing to love. Nothing could be more patently false.

John’s next argument is stunningly simple: We have this commandment from God, that we must love God, and neighbor. The Decalogue, and its summary by Christ, prove that Love of God, Worship of God, must go hand in hand with love of neighbor. Now, this seems like a stunningly simple argument. But… think how often believers worry about “being in God’s will,” pursuing the career, or the girl, or the school that God wants them to have — which, presumably, will be confirmed by some sign, or feeling, or other personal communication from God to them. As opposed to obeying the clear command to love neighbor. Brothers and sisters, the Christian life requires neighbor love. Beyond that, John doesn’t care. Jesus doesn’t care. All the law and the prophets are fulfilled in these two words.

Finally, neighbor love is required because if you love a Father, you will love his children, even as the Father loves his own child. All who believe that Jesus is the Christ have been born of God, and we love all those who have been born of God. Not only do we love those whom God loves in a natural sort of way, we do so because he explicitly commands.

Conclusion: Christianity and Sentiment

Christianity is not sentiment. It is not about you having happy or positive feelings about yourself, it is not about the degree of your passion for Jesus, or the state of your affections. It is a saving relationship between you and God that manifests itself in the life of the church, as you love the children of God in the church, and as you are sealed and sanctified against the day of judgment. Love is not an idea, apart from action, it is not a feeling. It is, rather, the fulfillment of that covenantal relationship that you were created to enjoy with your heavenly father, it is the comfort felt by the prodigal son in the Father’s embrace. And pursuing God’s clear commandment — which you know only because he laid down his life for you, and which you believe only because you have been born of the Spirit — is the confirming seal of the love that he has set upon you.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift.

John’s Epistles 13: Love Wins (1 John 4:7 - 12)

Sun, 22 May 2011 10:32:14 -0400

Texts: 1 John 4:7 - 12; Psalm 103

Where the Life Is
On the night that he was betrayed, Jesus taught his disciples that he was the source of their life, and their love, by the image of the vine:
I am the true vine; my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit, he takes away, every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you, Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing… By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.
By this image Jesus taught us that our faith unites us to him and his life, as a branch is united to a vine. With this image, Jesus preceded his giving of the great commandment: As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.
As the betrayer was about his work, Jesus was thinking of his death, and of our life. He was thinking of his Father’s love for him, and his love for his disciples. And he steeled himself for that trial, for that bitter cup of judgment, with the knowledge that he was making manifest the love of God for us, the love of the God who is love. And in this sacrificial act he was not only teaching his beloved friends what true love was, but he was taking away the wrath of God for their sins, for God showed his love for us while we were still sinners, then Christ died for us, reconciling us to Himself while we were yet enemies.
No one knew this better than the beloved disciple himself, John. When he wrote this text we read today, he was the last living witness of that farewell discourse, of his beloved Lord’s death, where he stood at the foot of the cross, and was truly there adopted as his Lord’s brother. “Woman, behold your son!” “Behold, your Mother!” And John took Mary into his home, and loved her, and became a member of His Lord’s earthly family even as he became a member of his heavenly family. It is safe to say that no one alive, when these words were written, knew as intimately, as powerfully, that the death of Christ was the source of life, that it had united Him to Christ, made the love of God his own, and born precious fruit in his life, even the fruit of the church he addresses here, the spotless bride cleansed by the words of life.
The aged apostle was reportedly carried in on a chair to deliver his final sermons, which often consisted of a single sentence: “Beloved, Love one Another.” And given a lifetime of preaching and teaching about the God who is love, this sentence sufficiently contained the Gospel, for it proclaimed the eternal life that his little children had from their participation with the Father and the Son.
God’s Love
In our text today, John opens up for us the theme of God’s love with great precision and simplicity, and we see behind it the great truth of the image of the vinedresser. Central here is the relation between the law, and the Gospel, the command to love, and the love of God poured forth into our hearts, the source of our life. It is in this light that I want to look at our text, and I want to pay attention to three things: God’s Love, Our Love, and the Relation between the Two.
Simply put, If you hear my words and understand, mark well: God has set his love upon you, and sent his Son to lay down his life in love that you might live. You live and love because he loved you first, by his act of love, you have been born again unto new life, and you truly know God. You have had your ears and eyes opened. And, yes, this passage from death to life required the Son of God to come down to earth and deal with you sins, to propitiate God, to turn his wrath away and make him favorable to you once again. This is the Gospel. God has manifested his love by sending his Son into the world that you might live.
15 times in these six verses he uses forms of the word love, 29 times if we include the following section.
Notice first John’s address: “Beloved.” This is one of his favorite names, along with “little children,” for his children in the faith. It is a name that belongs to us as well. And it tells us that we are beloved of the Lord. That he has set his love upon us.
Isn’t it remarkable that in choosing to remain anonymous in his own Gospel, John nevertheless refers to himself as the Beloved Disciple? Those who had been personally called by Jesus to follow him must have felt this love deeply, they must have felt how he set his love upon them. But it is true of all of us. After teaching of the vinedresser, Jesus reminded his disciples: You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.
Love is from God, and indeed, God can rightly be equated with love. John has already told us that “God is light,” meaning he is perfect holiness. And indeed, Jesus was the light that shone in the darkness of the world. In the Gospel, we also learn that “God is Spirit,” and Jesus is the one who brings the Spirit down from above, the source of life. Now we learn that this holy, living God is love. God’s holiness, his life, is not only his own, it is not only triune, but it sheds itself abroad in love for us. It is other related. It is action.
And as Jesus is the Light of the World, and the Way, the Truth, and the Life, so he is preeminently the manifestation of God’s Love in the world. In the prologue of John’s Gospel, we are told No one has ever seen God, the only begotten God who is at the Father’s side has made him known. John repeats this claim here — no one has ever seen God — but God’s love is made known in the sending of his Son. It is revealed, made manifest in his Son to give us life. In the last chapter, John told us that by this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and again here, he not only directs us to Jesus as the revelation of God’s love, but the cross. In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.
This is the second time John has used this word “propitiation,” which is a sacrifice that appeases the wrath of God, turns it away, and makes God “propitious” toward us, pleased with us, when he had previously been angry. Propitiation is not a word you will hear during the week in the workplace, or on the radio or TV, or read in the newspaper. Before now, you might not have known what it meant. But it is a word we use each week in our prayer for pardon, because it is a crucial word to understanding how our sins are forgiven, how it is that God shows his love toward us in the cross.
Some think we should abandon this language, because it is no longer meaningful to us, we no longer live in a world where we make sacrifices to the gods. Rob Bell argues this in his recent book, “Love Wins.” Sacrifice is an outmoded way of thinking about God’s love, because, ultimately, it implies that God was angry with us, with our sin, and needed a pound of flesh to be made happy. And this wrathful God — often associated with the Old Testament, or with cruder forms of religion — can have nothing to do with the loving God of Jesus, and of John.
Isn’t it amazing, that the Apostle John — no one speaks about the love of God more than he does — the Apostle John says “In THIS is love… that He loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” John says you can’t understand God’s love, if you can’t understand God’s wrath, namely his wrath against sin, and what he did to resolve it, to enable his love to have the last word toward us who believe in the Son. In this is love. To know God’s love, you must know his wrath. And Paul says almost precisely the same thing: God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. True love, God’s love, sets its sights on those who don’t deserve it, when they don’t deserve it.
Our Love and its Relation to God’s Love
God’s love is the motivation for our love. It is also the cause of our love, for it makes us live. For we were dead in our sins and trespasses, we most certainly did not love God. But because of the great love with which he loved us, he made us alive together with Christ. So our love is the evidence that we have been born of God, and know God. If God so loved us, we ought to love one another. God abides in us and his love is perfected in us, in the sense that it reaches its goal, is completed. A vine sends forth branches for the purpose of bearing fruit.
John tells us he wrote his Gospel so that we might believe on the Son, and have eternal life. John tells us he wrote this sermon to believers, so they may know that they have eternal life. The purpose for his writing is that we might be comforted in a time of trial. Our love is evidence of God’s love in us; it is evidence that we have life, and all life comes from him, from being born of him, and knowing him, and abiding in him.
John is exhorting us to love here, he is commanding us to love. “You ought to love.” He is not, however, threatening us, but comforting us. In this section, he is still writing against the false prophets, the liars who have gone out from the church. They did not have love for the brothers, and so it was clear that they did not know God — John is being ironic and emphatic, because they claimed special knowledge of God. In the following section he writes “If anyone says “I love God” and hates his brother, he is a liar.” By our love for the brothers, we know that we abide in him, and he in us. Because only those that have the spirit can love. Our love does not cause God to abide in us, it is evidence that he is abiding in us. “If we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.” Our love is actually God’s love in us, reaching its goal.
Note that this was the same point of the image of the vine. Every branch that doesn’t bear fruit is taken away, and this happened to the faithless ones of Israel. They were grafted out, their blood, their status, their religion did not save them. If you do not bear fruit, if you do not abide — that is, believe — he is thrown away like a branch and withers. The branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.
But as John will say in the very next section, whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him. He believes the love that God has for us, and God’s love is perfected in him, “so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment.” Again, this isn’t to say that our love is perfect, that we have confidence in the perfection of our love. This is to say that our love is the goal, the fruit God intended his love to bear in us. And when that love comes to fruition, it removes our fear of the judgment, and of God.
Of course, Satan ever accuses us. “But I don’t feel particularly loving to my neighbor. Sometimes I don’t even feel loving toward my wife.” Look to your right, to your left. You may barely know that soul. How are you supposed to love them? How are you supposed to feel any affection for them?
And of course, this is one of the great lies that the world, and our age in particular, has told us about love. That it is feeling, that it is affection. John says the opposite. “Love in deed and truth, not in word or talk.” Or, we might add, feelings. Feelings can be hard to generate, they can be easy to fake. They can be a trailing indicator of our love, only showing up after we have poured ourselves out for our neighbor, and seen how our love was received, seen the fruit it has born.
But love is so abstract. Why doesn’t John give us more detail? So I’m to love my fellow Christian, what exactly must I do? Whatever it takes. For if you see your brother in need, and close your heart against him, God’s love does not abide in you. You must, it seems, see your brothers need. What’s the old saying? “To know ‘em is to love ‘em?” You must know him, in order to love him. To know his need, his lack, and provide for it.
There is great significance in the transition from a multitude of commands — 613 it is said — down to one — love. The lawyer in each of us, the old man, wants a detailed list of specifics. Don’t drink, don’t chew, don’t dance. That way we can fulfill them all, and check them off the list. We can earn our own Sabbath. The command to love doesn’t let us rest. It is comprehensive, and this side of glory, it is never ending. We could always do more in love, we could always love better, more sincerely.
But this does not mean we are adrift. Paul writes the Thessalonians, Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another. We not only love because God loved us first, but we know how to love because he teaches us. The great problem with our love, after all, is not our knowledge. Given a need, we know how to meet it; and God teaches us. Our great problem is our will. Our problem is a moral one, it is the problem of sin remaining.
Conclusion
And the remedy for that is to look to the one who takes away the sin of the world, both forgiving us, and cleansing us, by uniting us to his Son. Both Word and Sacrament fix our eyes on Jesus, for he is spread before you on the table. The Lord’s Supper has been called the agape feast, for in it we proclaim his death — his propitiating death — until he comes again, and in this death is love. We see his body broken, for our healing, we see his blood shed, for our life. And behold, we recline upon his breast in faith — and yes, love — even as the beloved disciple at that meal. And we look around the table and see his love in the faces of our brothers and sisters in Christ. Look around the table this morning, beloved children of God. Behold the faces of those who have been born of God, and know God. See the members of your own body, and care for them as your own hands, your own feet. For in them, in us, the love of God is perfected.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 12: Whitewashed Walls (1 John 4:1 - 6)

Sun, 8 May 2011 10:18:40 -0400

Texts: 1 John 4:1 - 6; Ezekiel 13:1 - 16

The Gift of the Spirit
Believers, beloved of God, you have received the gift of the Spirit. It is the Spirit of truth, it is the Spirit who has made you free, and he is given you for your comfort, for your peace. It is the same Spirit who indwells Christ’s church, of whom you are a member. If you take anything away today, know this. If you listen to my words and hear of Jesus, behold Him, and trust in him, you have received the truth, and life. You have been born from above. You are a child of God.
John’s Gospel, from beginning to end, is about the giving of the Spirit, so it is not surprising that we find it here as well in the pages of his epistle. John the Baptist bore witness that he saw the Spirit descend upon Jesus and remain on him, and he promised that the one on whom he saw the spirit descend would baptize in the Holy Spirit. Jesus told Nicodemus that he need to be born again, born of the water and the Spirit, and this Jesus, sent from God, gave the Spirit without measure. It is the Spirit who gives life. John’s Gospel promises the Spirit to all who believe — for one cannot believe without the Spirit — and one of Jesus’ great promises on the eve of his crucifixion and departure is that he will send the Spirit, indeed, that it is good that he goes so we can receive something better, the Spirit who would lead us into all truth. “Peace be with you,” the risen Lord said. “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you,” and he breathed on them and said “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.”
The Spirit of truth is exactly what we need in this age, when we bear witness to our Lord’s great victory. When the forces of darkness are cast down, conquered, and have only deception at their disposal in their fight against the Lord’s anointed. We are sent of witness of the truth in this age, but we are not sent alone. We have received the gift of the Spirit.
And so, it is not surprising that the deceiver casts up his own spirit of error, in an attempt to steal our comfort, to put fear in the place of peace — many false prophets have gone out into the world. In our text today, John reminds us of the urgency, the crisis, of the last hour in which we live. He warns us that we must test the Spirits. He gives us the test to apply. And finally, he does not want our hearts to be troubled by this contest, to be thrown into doubt. He puts us on alert, but doesn’t do so without offering us all the comfort of an assured: “You are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.”
Warning! Test the Spirits!
Every New Testament text is written to a particular audience. The Gospel is one throughout, but the Gospel proclamation of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, of Peter and Paul, of James — each has its own flavor. This is born both of their human authors, but also of the difficulties faced by those who first heard them. What critics claim as one of the great weaknesses of the Bible — its diversity of authors and viewpoints — is in fact one of its great strengths. One Spirit, one truth, many witnesses. It speaks directly to so many of our situations today, precisely because it spoke to so many situations in the day it was written.
John is writing to a fractured church, a church split asunder by deceivers, charlatans, egotistical preachers unwilling to submit to authority. Many false prophets have gone out into the world. Sound familiar? It is great to know, as the preceding verse tells us, that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us. But everyone else claims the Spirit as well. As Luther said of the Anabaptists, they claim to have swallowed the holy spirit, feathers and all.
John’s advice to his flock, his advice to us, is perfectly clear. Be on guard. Do not believe every Spirit. Test them to see if they are from God.
This seems quite obvious, but of course nothing could be more counter-cultural today than to presumptively disbelieve what someone says about spiritual things. Our religious truth is thoroughly subjective. On the one hand, suspicion is the order of the day when it comes to the objective claims of orthodoxy. The incarnation, the resurrection, the judgment. But when it comes to spiritual things, to “religion,” we are told quite authoritatively that the one thing we cannot do is doubt anyone’s sincerity, or the validity of their beliefs, or heaven forbid, their feelings. Religion in the abstract is thoroughly protected, so long as no absolute truth claim is proposed.
There seems to be a single test provided for us by John, but there are in fact three. The testing itself, or testability; the testing of our confession, or doctrine, which is of primary importance; and then the testing of the church, or what I have called the testing of submission. Note as well that the discernment John calls for is thus both private, and public, and neither just one or the other.
Testability
The first test — implicitly — is the fact of testing itself. The Spirit that is from God tells you to test the Spirits. What confidence. What arrogance. “Who are you to say what is true? How can you impose your truth on me?” The Spirit of God says test the Spirits. Try me, refine me. The truth I bear is gold, pure gold. It has been thoroughly refined. In these words are life. John is not alone; Paul says the same thing in 1 Thessalonians 5: “Don’t despise prophecies, but test everything; hold fast to what is good.”
The spirit of error that inhabits our world doesn’t want to be subject to a test. His first deception is that religion is personal, private. That there is not a God who will come in judgment for all. The Spirit of God says “Test me. Try me. Find me true.”
Don’t be frightened, dear Christian, by this warning to test. The Spirit of truth is yours. This is a warning, yes, but it is also a challenge. Do not be cowed by the Spirit of this age. Do not hold your faith inwardly. This warning to test is the flip side of the charge to be witnesses, the same Spirit by which we discern truth from error is the Spirit who gives us power, who gives us the words when we are questioned, when we are put on trial. You don’t have the words? You aren’t confident in evangelism? By the power of the Spirit, learn them. For you must be able to give a defense when you are asked to explain the hope that is within you.
And the hope that is within you is not merely within you. It is outside of you. It is in history, in the object of your faith. That is why it can be tested. The Christian faith is utterly unique in this matter, in its historicity, in its dependence on God becoming man to save us. That’s why it can be tested. And it is unique in its dependence upon faith. That’s why you must test it.
It will not due to flee your duty for personal discernment. The Roman Church teaches that what is most important is the faith of the church, and the believer need only discern the truth church. Once joining the church, you needn’t worry yourself with understanding what the church teaches, merely agreeing that what the church teaches is right. This is called implicit faith. But John calls each one of us to discernment, to evaluating the confession of what we believe, and of what the community we are members of believes. That is precisely what is at stake in this letter.
The question before you, dear Christian, is precisely this. Do you, and does this church, confess that Jesus has come in the flesh, that he has been sent by God into the world to save sinners?
The Confession of Jesus Christ
The most basic test of the false prophets is whether they can confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh. The reality of the incarnation is the fundamental issue that is at stake in the church to which John is writing. The false teachers could not make this confession, and indeed, as Paul writes, no one can confess faith in the true Christ, can say “Jesus is Lord,” except by the power of the Holy Spirit.
The reality of the incarnation is the fundamental issue, but it is not the only issue. Calvin rightly sees that in these words there are three elements. To confess that Jesus “has come” is to confess that he existed before he came. I.e., he is truly divine, and eternal. He “preexisted,” existed before his birth as the divine Son of God. It is also, most directly, to confess his humanity. But to confess his flesh is to confess not only that he was really and truly fully human, but also that he died. It is to confess the cross. And finally, to say that Jesus came into the world and his Spirit is “from God” is to say that he was sent by the Father into the world for a purpose. In other words, not the bare incarnation, but the full significance of the incarnation is implied.
Denying the incarnation was the basic error of the antichrists, but not the only one. The deceivers said they were without sin, and thereby denied the need for the cross. The truth we proclaim, John begins, is that we are sinners, and that only the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin. He appeared, John writes, to take away sin. The deceivers denied this. As John writes later in this chapter, God sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. The deceivers denied that Jesus was the Christ, the saving Messiah. And thus they denied both the Son, and the Father, for they denied the testimony which the Father and the Spirit bore about the Son, that he was the Messiah.
What we confess about Jesus Christ is absolutely central to how we are saved. This is why the proper teaching of Christ’s humanity and divinity was debated for the first four hundred years of the history of the church. It was a debate about the Gospel, as much as the Reformation. This is why our Athanasian Creed begins with such weighty words:
Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the catholic faith; Which faith except every one do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.
You cannot be saved if you don’t believe Jesus as come in the flesh, Jesus the incarnate, eternal Son of God, who laid down his human life on the cross to take away the sin of the world.
The Incarnation is necessary for the Gospel. And the opposite is true. If you deny the Gospel, you deny, in a certain sense, the coming of the incarnate Lord. You deny his whole reason for coming. So it is that Calvin writes:
As, then, the ancient heretics departed from the faith, in one instance, by denying the divine, and in another by denying the human nature of Christ; so do [those in our] day: though they confess Christ to be God and man, yet they by no means retain the confession which the Apostle requires, because they rob Christ of his own merit; for where freewill, merits of works, fictitious modes of worship, satisfactions, the advocacy of saints, are set up, how very little remains for Christ!
How very little remains of Christ when your Christianity is about being a better you, or living your life now, or health, wealth, and prosperity, or political campaigns in defense of Judaeo-Christian culture. These are the offerings of false prophets. This is the Spirit of error. Calvin is talking about the gravest errors of the medieval church, but we are fooling ourselves if we don’t realize that we are living in our own theological dark ages. Notice, that the activity of Satan that we have to fear is his attempts to undermine the confession of our own church. This is what John in revelation calls “the synagogue of Satan,” those who claim to be Jews, or Christians, and are not. This is the demonic activity we must fear most, not pentagrams and Led Zeppelin.
You Belong to Jesus
Finally, note that John is ever mindful to offer comforts in the same breath with which he gives a warning of a threat. Yes, the spirit of error, the spirit of antichrist is already active in the world. He is a marker of the last hour, and the final moment of crisis and judgment. But we are God’s children. We are His beloved. We have overcome the world, and the spirits of the world and of this age. This, remember, is the great promise of chapter 2, that we have overcome the evil one. We are conquerors. It is the great promise of chapter 5:
For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world— our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?
It is the great promise of the Book of Revelation. We are conquerors, in him.
And we take comfort from the church. Notice the repetition, and the change. John says first, in the second person, “you are from God.” Then he shifts to the first person plural, “We are from God.” Not only is the God who conquers in us, he is present here in the church, and the gates of hell will not stand against it. “However knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us. By this we know the Spirit of truth and the spirit of error.”
We confess an “apostolic” church, and John puts his authority as an apostle on the line here. But it is not his personal authority, but the authority of the institution of the apostolic church that has been entrusted with this witness, this testimony, to Jesus Christ. Even the church’s authority is not its own, but is derived from its confession, held in common. For if the church does not confess Jesus Christ as having coming in the flesh — and all the Gospel truths implied by that — it fails the primary, doctrinal test. No institution, no process of calling synods or councils, is in itself the guaranteed possessor of God’s spirit, you are not to trust the United Reformed Church, or any other church body, in itself.
But you are to take courage and confidence from this assembly of saints, that binds itself together under the true confession of our incarnate Lord. Whoever knows God hears his voice in the assembly of such a church. Whoever is not from God does not hear his voice here, in the reading and preaching of his word. And goes out from us. This is why the church is classically portrayed as an ark, a great ship, in which the faithful are protected through life’s stormy trials. The church is an instrument of and a defender of the spirit of truth; we gather under this banner here, and it marks us out from the errors of the world. This is why your first vow of membership is so important:
Do you heartily believe the doctrine contained in the Old and the New Testament, and in the articles of the Christian faith, and taught in this Christian church, to be the true and complete doctrine of salvation, and do you promise by the grace of God steadfastly to continue in this profession?
In this body, you join your own profession, your private discernment, to the profession of the church. We become one, and you draw strength and confidence in this. There is ordinarily no salvation to be found outside this bond, outside the church.
And this is a check on our private discernment being the sole basis of our confidence. Calvin notes the objection, still a popular one about the Reformation, that it ushered in an era of religious personalism and chaos. But not the Reformation, but the Apostle, commands private discernment. What is key here, and what the Reformation affirmed, is submitting this judgment to the wisdom and in the context of the local, faithful church.
Conclusion
Brothers and sisters, there are false prophets. As Ezekiel says, they claim to speak the word of the Lord. But the Lord is against these prophets; he is against them in the ministrations of his church, for they shall not be in the council of his people, nor be enrolled in the register of the house of Israel. Their error is misleading the people, offering them peace, and fulfillment, where there is no peace. Offering them the comfort of a false Gospel.
The image of Ezekiel is a powerful one, of a whitewashed wall. They pretend to offer a source of comfort, a source of safety in this sin-stained world, but their comfort is hollow. The foundation of the wall the erect against the enemies of your faith, is rotten. The Lord himself will send a storm against it, and he will lay its foundation bare.
The one source of peace is in the cross and resurrection of Christ. Only in the shedding of his blood, and the covering of salvation’s garments are your protected from life’s storms, and from the very wrath of God. Flee to the cross. Confess your sins. Trust in your crucified and risen Lord. And come, and dine with the saints, in comfort and harmony.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 11: Truth and Love (1 John 3:19-24)

Sun, 1 May 2011 07:35:35 -0400

Texts: Ezekiel 36; 1 John 3:19 - 24

True Christian Comfort

The Reformation was born out of a concern for Christian comfort. Martin Luther, famously, was a man with a tormented soul. He would go to his confessor, Staupitz, again and again asking him what he could do to know that he was saved, to silence the terrors of the devil and his own inner voices. His search for peace of mind took him, like so many others, on a pilgrimage to a holy shrine, even all the way to Rome, to the Scala sancta, the holy steps. The steps, he was told, from Pilate’s temple in Jerusalem, still bearing the drops of Christ’s blood from his scourging, brought back to Rome by Helena, the Emporer Constantine’s pious wife. Ascend the steps on your knees, pray a Hail Mary at each step, do penance, and at the top of the steps you will receive your reward — a plenary indulgence of nine years for each step climbed.

Luther’s conscience was not eased by his labors. He didn’t even make it to the top of the Scala Sancta. Instead, he discovered that the Scriptures themselves held out for him true Christian comfort, comfort that flowed from knowing that the Righteousnes of God was not only a threat — a perfect requirement for him to live up to — but was more importantly, given to him by God as a gift. Luther’s comfort, never attained through his labors, or through his own spiritual discipline, was finally attained when he looked outside himself, to the work of Christ.

That is, as well, the teaching of our Heidelberg Catechism. You will notice in our lesson later today that true Christian comfort is ascertained through a knowledge of three things: How great our sin and misery are, How we are delivered by God from it, and How we are to show our gratitude. Note well, not one of those three elements of saving knowledge describes a state or condition within; none is learned or discovered through our pilgrimages, our labors, our striving; none is a feeling we intuit with varying degrees of success through spiritual discipline; none is a measure of the strength or magnitude of our faith.

Ironic, isn’t it, that one caricature of the Reformed Christian is one who always doubts his election, and worries about the state of his soul. As though greater comfort could be found by trusting in our own works, our own faith, rather than God’s faithfulness.

By this We Shall Know

In the verses we read today, the Apostle is concluding a section of his sermon that began at 2.18, and it is a section concerning the confidence of the saints in a time of great crisis. It is the last hour, John wrote, and many are going out from our midst. They’re questioning our faith, splitting our church. John responded to this crisis by reminding the saints that they had the anointing of the Holy One — that they had been baptized — and therefore that they all, every last one of them, had knowledge, and knew the truth. He returns to this train of thought here, where we read that “By this we shall know that we are of the truth, and reassure our heart before him. …and by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us.”

John’s train of thought in this section begins and ends with the anointing of the Holy Spirit, the gift of God, as promised in Jeremiah 31:31, of a new covenant, whereby all men, from the least to the greatest, would know the Lord. But this knowledge is not sequestered in the head. The word of life heard, and received in the anointing of the Spirit, leads John to think of the promise of eternal life, the new birth, and the gift that we have received of being children of God. Not children in name only, but children who share now in his divine nature by the implanting of God’s very seed in us, and through that sharing in the divine nature, a sharing in his love. The love of God bears fruit in us, the love that we know only because he laid down his life for us, requires that we too lay down our life for our brethren. “Let us love,” John writes, “not in word or talk, but in deed and truth.”

I have included this verse in our bulletins, for this is the crucial preceding verse to the section we read today, it is by “this love in deed and truth” that we know we are of the truth.

I recount this flow of John’s argument for it is crucial to see that from beginning to end, this section is concerned with the gift of the Spirit. And there is a great danger that we might read these verses out of context, and think that our love for our one another is the basis of our reassurance, and confidence. It is not the basis of our confidence, but rather the evidence of God’s gift. Those who confess Christ and believe on his name, receive the Spirit. They make a beginning in righteousness, however small, that marks them out from the world. And this small beginning in the law of love bears witness with our hearts that we are indeed those who are of the truth.

John is actually stating quite clearly and carefully here — and I might add passionately — the intimate relation between truth and love, between the justification of the sinner in the new birth, and the new sanctified life that flows from that great gift of God. The relation between the two is intimate, the bond is indissoluble, but invariably the love in our hearts is always not the cause of our confidence before God, but the effect of his working in us.

We Have Confidence

Note that while the relation between truth and love is absolute — being born of the truth always bears fruit in love — our evaluation of the evidence is often faulty. Our hearts may be reassured by our love for one another. Or our hearts may condemn us. John is so careful when encouraging the saints, to note how they might yet be discouraged. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. It is his truth, and he knows it; should our confidence falter, we need only stop thinking of ourselves and think of him. For he is the giver of gifts, the one who stokes the smoking wick and supports the bruised reed. You cannot doubt that your “faithing” is sufficient, for if you are wondering about the strength of your faith, you have faith, you are looking to him, and it is He who is holding on to you, not vice versa.

And often, we do have confidence. Not because our love is perfect, not because we are deceived by our own hypocrisy. But because he has given us the power to love, and obey. Sanctification is real.

Notice what type of confidence we have, confidence to approach the throne of grace and ask for His provision. In other words, our confidence is not in ourself, but it is confidence that God will hear our request, that he will provide. It is confidence that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head. It is confidence that he preserves and protects us from the devil. That the trials and temptations we endure — the things we wish we didn’t ever have to experience — are indeed furthering our salvation, purifying us, strengthening our faith. That’s why he sends trials on his saints in this world. “Why is God doing this to me?” we cry. And the answer is because he knows what we can sustain, and he loves us, and he will never, never crush us in his loving hands, but is shaping us to the image of his son, who suffered for us.

Whatever We Ask

Yet in these times of trial, we cry out to him boldly, and whatever we ask we receive. Really? Whatever we ask? This promise seems wildly out of proportion with our experience. We don’t see a lot of Christians consistently winning the lottery on the basis of their prayers to that effect. But Jesus promised the same thing: “In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full” (John 16:23 – 24).

Later in chapter five John repeats this promise, and makes explicit what is implied here, namely, that as his faithful children we come before him boldly asking that he give us what he has promised:

And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him.

The confidence is not any old confidence, it’s not confidence in our stock market picks or confidence in our golf swing. It is confidence in the crisis of faith, confidence in the day of judgment and the last hour.

Let me be perfectly clear. This is not a quid pro quo. God does not give us what we ask because of our obedience. John is restating here in many different parallel expressions his central fact, that the children of God keep his commandments and do what pleases him. Not always, not perfectly. But they do. This is the nature of a child’s faith in God, which is expressed here by the parallel expression, “abiding.” The one who has faith, abides in God, and God in him. Their union is complete. And it bears the fruit of obedience. The one who abides, keeps gods commandments as a result of their faith, their abiding.

This is His Commandment

What is it he has commanded us to do? What one thing is required? This is his commandment, that we believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he commanded us. Again, John restates his central contention about the relation between truth and love. Faith, the confession of the name, and Love, the living out of the life he has given us, are the essence of what Christ left us with.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus utters this commande to believe: Then they said to him, "What must we do, to be doing the works of God?" Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." This does not mean, of course, that faith is a work. This does not mean that our faith is the one work that earns our salvation. “Do not labor for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For on him God the Father has set his seal.” Jesus was holding himself forward as the one who had come down from heaven, the divine source of all they were seeking to earn through their own labors.

Likewise, when John tells us here that his command is that we believe and love, he is expressing this same intimate connection between truth and love that he has before him in this entire section. When we believe on the one who laid down his life for us, we are bound to lay down our lives for our brothers. That is the nature of being made like him in all things, of being born again into his heavenly family, of bearing the divine seed within us.

By the Spirit Whom He Has Given Us

The deceivers in the church John is writing denied that Jesus came in the flesh, and that he had come from God. They denied that Jesus was the Christ, and in so doing they denied the Father as well. They were spiritual, and they claimed knowledge, but they claimed it as their own, as private. The gnostics all thought that they all had the divine spark within, but that it was their by nature, not as a gift from God granted in the new birth. Thus, they sought to ascend up to God, to climb up to him under their own power, by looking with.

John’s Spirit, in stark contrast, is the Spirit promised in Ezekiel. It is a Spirit given by God, placed within us: “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you.” This is the Spirit that comes with the sprinkling of clean water, that cleanses us from all our idols and makes us clean. “And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.” You see, it is the Spirit that not only cleanses us, but sanctifies us, even going so far as removing our hearts of stone, and replacing them anew, with God’s very own heart of flesh.

Yes, you say, but I’m still keeping a few idols under my pillow, in my closet. My sins make me sick, and I can’t get rid of them. What does Ezekiel say?

Then you will remember your evil ways, and your deeds that were not good, and you will loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abominations. It is not for your sake that I will act, declares the Lord GOD; let that be known to you. Be ashamed and confounded for your ways, O house of Israel.
Not for our sake has he acted, but for the sake of his Holy Name. He has vindicated his great holiness by the name of his Son Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. And this is how we know that he abides inus, that our faith is true, that we are of the truth. By the spirit whom he has given us, the spirit who brings water of cleansing, the spirit who brings a new heart, the spirit who brings obedience.

Remember your baptism, dear Christian, remember that you have been born of water and the spirit. Remember the manna that falls from heaven, remember that Jesus is the bread of heaven, who has descended to meet us here this day. And be assured.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

The Resurrection: Forty Days of Purpose (Luke 24)

Sun, 24 Apr 2011 07:03:42 -0400

Texts: Isaiah 53; Luke 24
Forty Days of Purpose
We tend to think of the resurrection as an event. Something that happened on that first day of the week, that first Easter Sunday. And of course, it was an event. The stone rolled away from the tomb, life returned to the physical body of our Lord, and he walked out form the grave’s dark hole, never to return.
But in another sense, “the resurrection” is not merely an event that occurred on Easter Sunday, but a time. Luke 24 records for us forty days of history, the time our risen Lord walked the earth, stretching from the event of his resurrection, until his ascension when he was carried up to heaven. Five and a half weeks.
Of all the “40’s” in the bible — 40 days of flood, 40 years of wilderness, 40 days of fasting — we don’t think of this period of 40 days very often, and remarkably, the New Testament has very little to say about it. Talk about a golden opportunity. God in the flesh — resurrected flesh, no less. Think of it. He could have dictated the entire New Testament, provided a fully detailed constitution of the church. He could have, himself, traveled around from Jerusalem, to Judae and Samaria, even to the ends of the earth, establishing places of worship — no doubt, they would have become places of pilgrimage — instead of entrusting that task to his disciples.
But Jesus reveals nothing new. No, instead of serving as a fount of divine revelation for 40 days, Jesus taught a bible study, he taught the apostles, those whom he would send, how to read the Bible. He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures. And thus he establishes the church of the risen Lord from its very inception on the mediated word of God, the Word and Spirit working through the Scriptures.
Luke’s account of this 40 days is just about the fullest that we have, and its emphasis from beginning to end is on recalling what Jesus has already said, understanding and interpreting what the Scriptures have taught.
The fullness of Luke’s account makes sense, for Luke 24 is the connection between the first and second volumes of his history of Jesus and the church, his Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles. Luke records for us four crucial episodes — the discovery of the empty tomb, the encounter on the Emmaus Road, the encounter in Jerusalem, and the ascension. This description is not exhaustive, but characteristic. We don’t have a blow by blow of the forty days, but Luke portrays for us the nature and character of our risen Lord’s instruction. In Acts, we read that Jesus presented himself alive after his suffering by many proofs, and spoke about the kingdom of God. Here in the Gospel, Luke shows us what the content of that teaching was like. For forty days, Jesus explained out of the pages of Scripture why he had to die on a cross, why the messiah must come in humility, with suffering, before he could enter his glory. And by his departure, he should that the church herself would be made unto the image of her Lord by living in the same pattern — being made like him now in His sufferings, and only later to enter his glory.
Remarkably, they still didn’t get it. Moments before the ascension, after their 40 day crash course, they asked “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" Only when they received the Spirit could they read their Bible aright, and proclaim the repentance and forgiveness of sins in his name to all nations as his witnesses.
This Easter, I want to consider the forty day resurrection of our Lord, looking at the Importance of the Old Testament, the Message of the Old Testament, and finally, the Mission of the Church.
The Emmaus Road
News spreads quickly. But the news that spread on Easter wasn’t yet good news. The tomb of Jesus was empty, and already his disciples were fleeing Jerusalem after the festival and carrying with them this grim tidings. They have just experienced an extremely tumultuous week, beginning with the triumphal entry of the Lord, great prophecies and miracles of a coming day of judgment, all ending in the tragedy of the cross. You can only imagine their confusion, even fear, at the news that the tomb was empty. Yet when Jesus approaches, his identity hidden, Cleopas speaks boldly of the events that he had witnessed.
Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?” And he said to them, “What things?” And they said to him, “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. …that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive
Cleopas gives a pretty good accounting to this stranger — perhaps at personal risk to himself. But Jesus’ response to him is a bit of a surprise. He does not comfort this sad and confused follower of his, but instead rebukes him:
O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.
This is a stinging rebuke. Christ calls his followers — who confessed him to be the redeemer of Israel — unbelieving. Faithless.
And the first thing to note is the nature of their unbelief. Jesus does not condemn them for not believing him — he condemns them for being slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken. And here we see the first thing that Luke wants to tell us about the risen Lord’s instruction to his followers, namely, the importance and centrality of the Old Testament.
Jesus — even the risen Lord — does not found the church on the charisma of his person, or on the personal inspiration of his followers. He founds the church on the word of God. The entirety of the Old Testament is here established as Christian Scripture. From Moses to all the prophets. And as he tells the gathered disciples in the upper room, this includes the Psalms, which together with Moses and the Prophets incorporates all three major sections of the Hebrew Bible. All the Scriptures are interpreted by our Lord to point to himself. The Messiah is the center of the Bible’s story.
Suffering then Glory
The risen Christ we worship is the Messiah, the promised one, of the Old Testament. But the rebuke from our risen Lord tells us more than that we should find him and him alone on each and every page of the Old Testament. It tells us what we should find about him there: Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?
The Jews expected the Messiah to come with Glory, to usher in immediately an age of glory. The death of Christ on the cross was the ultimate disqualification for Jesus being the Son of promise. The cross was and would remain a stumbling block for Jewish faith in their messiah — even after this forty day seminar those closest to Jesus were still waiting for the glorious kingdom to appear at any minute: “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?”
Notice that Cleopas recounted Jesus as “a prophet mighty in deed and word.” He had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel. But he had been crucified. The sorrow, the fear of the disciples at the sight of the cross was a result of nothing less than unbelief. They had hardened their hearts to the message of Jesus from the very beginning, to his own proclamation of the cross, which they only, slowly, began to recall as the centerpiece of his teaching while he was on earth.
It was necessary. The cross is not a detour, something to be explained away, or acknowledged and filed away. It is the center of the story. It is not enough to be Christ-centered in our preaching, in our prayers, in our worship. We must be cross-centered. Paul thus says that “we preach Christ, and him crucified.”
And there is a necessary order. It was necessary that he suffered, before he entered his glory. This pattern — death and resurrection — is what we find throughout the proclamation of the New Testament. Note the repetition of suffering here, first at the tomb, then on the road to Emmaus, and then finally in the upper room.
Calvin writes on this text:
The sum of what is stated is, that the disciples are wrong in distressing their minds about their Master’s death, (without which he could not discharge what belonged to Christ; because his sacrifice was the most important part of redemption), for in this way they shut the gate, that he might not enter into his kingdom. …Christ is deprived of the honor due to him, if he is not reckoned to be a sacrifice for sins [WWJD], the only way by which he could enter into his glory was that humiliation or emptying… But we see that no trivial offense is committed among us, at the present day, by the inversion of this order; for among the multitude of those who declare, in magnificent language, that Christ is King, and who extol him by divine titles, hardly one person in ten thinks of the grace which has been brought to us by his death. (Harmony, 359)
Or, in the language of John’s Gospel, his suffering is his glory: “The Hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified on earth,” the hour in which the Son accomplished the work the Father had given him to do.
Make no mistake, Calvin is correct, this is a rebuke for us today. If we don’t think about the sacrifice of Christ, when we think of Christ, we are fashioning our own savior. If we don’t think about the cross as the center of every story in the Scriptures, we are reading a different book. Every book about Christian dieting, Christian families, and Christian politics, to name but a few options, entirely isses the central point of the Bible — the necessity of the cross. Hardly one in ten, Calvin writes, of those who celebrate Christ the King ever even thinks about the grace brought to us by his death. As a clever man once said, “We’re always talking about Christ the King… never Christ the Prophet, or Christ the Priest.”
The Upper Room
By repeating the substance of this summary in the episode of the upper room, Luke emphasizes the nature of the Lord’s teaching during this period. The “speaking about the kingdom of God” was the speaking about what had been written, namely, “that the Christ should suffer, and on the third day rise form the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning form Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
And, we might add, nothing else. Luke records this rebuke, this teaching, for his readers, and as Calvin notes well, for us. The message of the Old Testament is that Christ suffered and died and rose again so we could preach repentance and forgiveness is the only message of the Old Testament. Anything else is unbelief. And we are commissioned as witnesses of this message. Nothing else. This is what the power of the Spirit, sent from on high, enables us to do. Nothing else.
The Apostles took this message to hearts.
• Peter’s first sermon in Acts proclaims the Jesus who was “delivered up according to the defnite foreknowledge and plan of God… crucified, but now raised up.” God has made the crucified Jesus Lord and Christ.
• Peter’s second sermon: “you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. Repent… that your sins may be blotted out.” Almost verbatim to the instructions he received.
• Stephen in Acts 7 proclaims Jesus as the last of a long line of persecuted prophets, and full of the Spirit he gazes into heaven and beholds the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, the suffering one, now glorified. A Lamb standing, as though slain.
• Paul, in Acts 26, before King Agrippa: “so I stand here testifying both to small and great, saying nothing but what the prophets and Moses said would come to pass: that the Christ must suffer and that, by being the first to rise from the dead, he would proclaim light both to our people and to the Gentiles."
• Peter’s Epistles, 1 Peter 1.11: Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories.
• Paul’s Epistles, 1 Cor 15.3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep.
Our Proclamation, and Our Hope
With the Apostles, we bear witness to the suffering and glory of our crucified and risen Lord. That is our hope on Easter Sunday, and every Sunday. Yet the suffering and glory of Christ is not only the message we proclaim, but it is also the pattern of our existence. Peter writes, Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. And Paul repeatedly states this as the necessary pattern of his ministry, to the Corinthians, as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. To the Ephesians: “Do not lose heart over what I am suffering for you, which is your glory.”
So Paul can “rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known (Colossians). To the Philippians: that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
Our witness, our testimony, is not to our victories in this life. It is not the great drumroll and trumpet that often marks our Easter celebrations. It is to the cross, to his sufferings, for with Paul we consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. His resurrection is the firstfruits, for we know that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
Behold his body broken, his blood shed forth, for the forgiveness of sins. See and recognize your Lord in the blessing of this meal.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 10: God is Greater than Our Heart (1 John 3:11 - 20)

Sun, 17 Apr 2011 10:47:58 -0400

Texts: 1 John 3:11 - 20; Genesis 4
Hate, Death, Murder
Have you ever noticed how much our popular culture is fascinated with crime and punishment, and particularly, with the crime of murder? Murder mysteries are one of the most enduring literary genres. If you ignore reality TV — and speaking personally, I strongly recommend that you do — 9 of the top 13 television programs have to do with crime and punishment: NCIS, CSI, Criminal Minds, NCIS Los Angeles, Law and Order, just to name a few. Each of these programs typically begins with a mysterious murder, consists of a team of friendly faces unfolding the mystery, and concludes with the ultimate capture and punishment of the bad guy.
Now, in our day to day lives, murder is not all that common of an event. Why is it such a popular form of entertainment?
Obviously, we all like a good mystery. It’s a classic narrative device, it gives us the opportunity to enter into the story and participate, and maybe puzzle it out before our protagonist. But murder isn’t the only kind of mystery to be solved, and I don’t think our penchant for violence alone explains this subject matter. Rather, I have a hunch that our fascination with crime and punishment has to do with a fundamental desire for justice in the world, a desire to see good conquer over evil. And murder, we agree, is the most fundamentally evil thing we can imagine. We crave, in short, “Law and Order,” and these programs cast us on the side of the good guys, on the side of justice. They personify evil, murderers, as a force outside of us, localized in the world, insidious, never-ending, yet able to be conquered.
Curious, isn’t it, that the Apostle John recounts for us only one Old Testament story in this sermon, and it is a story of murder. The first fruit of Adam and Eve’s sin, as it were, is the fruit of their loins, but John tells us that he was “of the evil one,” and murdered because he was evil, and because he was righteous. Murder is the essence of evil.
In one sense, John’s story also sets up an “us / them” mentality: “Do not be surprised, brothers, that the world hates you.” But note well. Who are the murderers? Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer. And this is not a few, but the entire world. Even we who are in Christ, who are hated, even we have passed “out of death into life.”
And John saves the biggest plot twist for last: in his story, we are the only ones who are convicted, and it is our own heart that condemns us. That’s right. In this episode, you are the murderer, you are the hunted. The Law is not on your side. But the Gospel is. For God is greater than your heart. He laid down his life — passed from life, to death, so that we might pass out of death into life, so that we might love one another as he has loved us.
Love and Hate; Life and Death
We have seen in the last few weeks how the new birth is at the center of John’s Gospel proclamation. Because we have been born again, born from above, we are new creatures. We have passed from death to life. The love of God now characterizes us, and our sure hope is that we shall be like him, we shall be pure, when he returns. Through the new birth, God’s own nature has been implanted in us; we cannot go on sinning as we did before. Since he appeared, we have now become apparent as his children, and we will be like him at his appearing.
And yet, the new life that we have within us is not born fully grown and complete. It is God’s seed, and we must work to nurture it; we shall be fully like him when he returns. And the means of that purification is the law of God, the command, the message, that we have heard from the beginning: We should love one another. In our text today, John sets forth this command in both negative and positive fashion. To love one another, as we have been commanded, means that we should not be like Cain, but rather should be like Christ, who laid down his life for us.
Cain was not evil because he murdered his brother; he murdered his brother because he was evil. His own deeds were evil; the Lord had no regard for Cain and his offering, Moses tells us. This was not arbitrary of the Lord: Abel brought the first-fruits, Cain brought an unremarkable portion of his fruits. Note, Cain was not irreligious. He wasn’t an atheist. He made his offerings to God. His parents, after all, were good and pious, and even seemed to think that Cain was the promised child who would deliver them from the evil one. Perhaps his self-importance went to his head; perhaps he as the older brother, was the chief priest of family worship. For we know he was merely going through the motions, he was not offering sincere worship to the Lord, as is pleasing.
And Cain was angry. Because his deeds were evil, and his brother’s righteous. The wicked hate the just. This is why the world hates the children of God. This is not works righteousness. Cain’s murderous ways stem from his jealousy of Abel’s righteousness, of his acceptance before God. And the Lord warned him that as a result of his anger, sin was crouching at the door.
John presents a pretty stark antithesis here. The world hates the children of God. Whoever does not love, abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, no murderer has eternal life abiding in him. We are reminded of one of the harsher questions and answers in the Heidelberg Catechism about our sin and misery, number five: Can you live up to all this perfectly, the law that requires love of God and neighbor? No, I have a natural tendency to hate God and neighbor. You, child of Adam by nature, have a natural tendency to hate God and neighbor. The point of this antithesis is not for you to pat yourself on the back, but for you to recognize that in your new birth, you have passed out of death into life.
And that passage, that new birth, is why you love the brothers. John’s language here is emphatic. Our love of the brothers doesn’t effect the passage; our love for the brothers is the evidence of the passage, it is how we know that we have passed from death to life. Because we have the signs of life. We are loving again, loving for the first time.
One final word about the antithesis, the fundamental opposition between the world and the church. It is not going away, at least not until Christ returns in glory. When you stand for the love of Christ, you will be hated by the world. And while we may strive for civil justice in the world, while governments may punish the worst evildoers and keep the peace, legislation and coercion cannot bring the love of God to a world that fundamentally hates righteousness.
By This We Know Love
The command to love one another requires us to mortify the flesh, to flee our natural selfishness, hatred, and murderous ways. We should not be like Cain. But more importantly, the command to love one another requires us to look to Christ, who laid down his life for us, and even to lay down our lives for one another. We should act like Jesus.
Jesus himself said, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
Clearly, Jesus death is only a loving act if it somehow saves us. This verse puts the cross at the center of the Gospel. The cross saves us, that’s why it is a loving act. But, once saved, that loving act at the same time becomes the model. It is not an either or, as though either the cross saves us, or just shows us how to save ourselves. Rather, it is a both and. The cross is the act of God’s love that saves; and the love of God at the cross is the model that we, once saved, must emulate.
The fruit of sin is murderously evil; those who do not love, abide in death. Those who do not love, hate and murder. Likewise, the fruit of righteousness is radically self-sacrificial. Clearly, we can not by our deaths effect the redemption of the world, as Christ did. But we are called to lay down our lives for our brothers.
In one sense, that commitment to radical love is sufficiently abstract to be easy to affirm. I mean, how many of us are ever given the opportunity to literally give up our lives for the life of another? Yet that is the limit, that is the test. And in the following sentence, John makes it clear that the limit also includes everything up to that limit. He brings it rather down to earth when he writes, “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?”
In other words, Jesus taught you love by laying down his life for you; you should lay down your lives for the brothers, and that includes laying down every other thing up to and including your life. Let love not be in word or talk, but in deed and truth.
Let me take this opportunity to talk for a moment very concretely about how we use our material possessions for the work of the church.
• While we are still dependent upon the support of other churches in our denomination, we have been exceedingly proud of the generosity of our small number of here. Stewarding God’s gifts is extremely important, it is important for the continued maturity of our body, and also the degree to which we are able to support the work of missions and the growth of the church. It is our desire to grow and prosper and plant many churches in the region which we find ourselves, and your gifts and offerings are crucial to that goal.
• The question of tithing often comes up, whether the old testament “tithe” or 10%, still applies in the new testament. The tithe was embedded in the temple, and is not explicitly taught in the New Testament. But what is taught, both here and elsewhere, far exceeds the tithe. The New Testament principle is “whatever is necessary, whatever you have.” All that we have is the Lord’s, all is his as necessary for the work of the Gospel and our brother in need.
• While we are called to love our neighbor universally, John explicitly refers to our “brother in need.” The offerings we collect in this church go to supporting the work of this congregation, and they go to the work of missions, planting churches, and theological education. They also support the diaconal ministry of this church.
• Note, that this requires the brother who is in need to share your need. Whether your needs are financial, or other material or spiritual concerns, we urge you to share them with your elders, your deacons, and me. We must share our needs so we can support one another in prayer, and as necessary, with material support.
Our Knowledge; God’s Knowledge
It is crucial to remember why John is calling us to lay down our lives for our brothers. His church is in crisis, it has undergone a schism, and antichrists have left their midst. John is urging them on to love as a way of fulfilling their calling as the children of God, and also as a comfort to them, that they might see the fruits of the new life in their hearts. This is why he follows this negative and positive instruction with this conclusion: By this we shall know that we are of the truth, and reassure our heart before him. John has already told us that because we have been anointed by the Holy One, we have knowledge, and know the truth. And this is not just an abstract truth, but rather the truth that comes from being sealed by the Holy Spirit, washed by the waters of baptism, and fed by our own Lord’s Body and Blood in the supper. John is writing to comfort his church, that they might see the love of Christ in their daily lives, and be comforted.
And yet, the command to love, the command to lay down our lives for one another often does not comfort us. Have you laid down your life for Jesus? Do you hold all your possessions in trust for the Lord, ever looking for opportunities to offer them up to the loving work of Christ in his church? Or does your heart condemn you?
John knows that our hearts will condemn us. Though we swear our love for the Lord, the old man rises up. Sin is still crouching at the door. And just as we may take encouragement from the sprouts of new life, so to we may be discouraged; our heart may condemn us, for we know what is within man. But God is greater than our heart. And God knows everything, even our heart.
This is comfort. Do you doubt? Do you lack assurance? Your doubt is not greater than God. But I still sin! I do not love as I should. My heart is dull. The love of God at the cross, is greater than your love for him, and it is the source of your new life.
When Jesus gave his new commandment, “love one another, just as I have loved you,” Simon Peter boldly promised that he would follow his Lord, even that he would lay down his life for him. Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.” And of course, so it came to pass. Peter denied his love in the hour of darkness. But at the resurrection, the Good Shepherd asked him, “Peter, do you love me?”
He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" and he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you."
God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. He knows the love we have for him, even when it is the tenderest shoot, the slightest reed. He has loved us, and he knows our Love for him.
This is the agape meal. The love feast of the Lord, where we mark the shedding of his blood, and the laying down of his life. Come eat and drink your heavenly food.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 9: He Appeared to Take Away Sins (1 John 3:4 - 10)

Sun, 10 Apr 2011 10:14:17 -0400

Texts: 1 John 3:4 - 10; Psalm 92
The Spirit-Filled Life
Have you made the wonderful discovery of the spirit-filled life?
This question is the title of an article by Bill Bright, the renowned evangelical leader and founder of Campus Crusade for Christ, who died in 2003 (http://www.ccci.org/training-and-growth/classics/the-spirit-filled-life/index.htm). If you doubt the lasting influence of Bill Bright, just note that Campus Crusade has over 27,000 full-time staff, and almost a quarter of a million trained volunteer staff around the world.
Bright’s article opens by stating that there are three kinds of people described in the Bible: The Natural Person, the Spiritual Person, and the Carnal Person. Both the Spiritual and the Carnal Persons are Christians, it’s just that the Carnal person has not fully surrendered his life to the Holy Spirit, he doesn’t yet trust God fully. He keeps “self” on the throne, and therefore is inflicted with sin. Thus, the “spirit-filled life” is a higher form of the Christian life, to be attained by fasting and prayer, and other spiritual disciplines, including “spiritual breathing,” by which you exhale the impure and inhale the pure. It is marked by greater obedience, less sin, and more joy.
Bill Bright’s final decade was marked by an increased emphasis on fasting and prayer. He launched a world-wide movement of fasting in 1994 with his own 40 day fast, during which he said that through spiritual breathing he gradually got to the point where he “frankly did not have that much to confess.”
I recount Bill Bright’s teaching because it is a species of perfectionism, the view that Christians can and should attain a state of relative sinlessness in this life, and 1 John 3.9 is a classic text used by Christian Perfectionists. Indeed, in this same article Bright writes: “The individual who professes to be a Christian but who continues to practice sin should realize that he may not be a Christian at all, according to 1 John 3:9.” Through Bright and others, Perfectionism continues to have a massive sway over evangelicalism in our country, shaping views of the Christian life and spirituality even among those who would disavow perfectionism, per se. This is the backdrop against which we must hear and understand the teaching of John in our text today.
Before we go a step further in exploring the teaching of the Apostle, note well Bright’s fundamental error in claiming that there are three kinds of people. John — and the rest of the New Testament — know only two kinds of people. The children of God, and the children of the devil. The children of God are born of God, they have been anointed by the Holy One, and God abides in them, and they in him. They have passed from darkness to light through the new birth, and have been born of God. There is no support for the “carnal Christian” in the pages of the Bible.
Sin as Lawlessness
John has three key points here, and a conclusion, which are crucial to grasp if we are going to understand the meaning of these verses in John’s argument. First is the nature of Sin, the second is the nature of Christ’s work, and the third is that no one born of God makes a practice of sinning. John’s conclusion is that, as a result, the children of God and the children of the devil are evident in the world. The appearing of the Son of God to take away sins, has brought about the appearing of the Sons of God, the Children of God, who are without sin.
One of the remarkable ironies of Christian perfectionism is that it leads to a relative lack of teaching about sin. And I don’t need to tell you that “sin” is not a very hot topic in evangelical pulpits these days. The focus of the perfectionist quickly turns from sin — it has been set aside — and focus on their own spiritual disciplines instead.
But John talks frankly about sin here. This section is marked by a sustained of the topic of sin, and it begins with a definition: “Everyone who makes a practice of sinning also practices lawlessness; sin is lawlessness.”
What does this mean? First, it points to the seriousness of sin. The force of the word here is “evil,” and you will recall that Paul in Thessalonians uses the “Man of Lawlessness” as an expression quite similar to John’s “Antichrist.” Sin’s wickedness is absolute; it is not something to be trifled with. When you sin, you oppose the work of Christ, as we’ll see in a moment.
It also may be that John’s opponents were downplaying the importance of the Law. They claimed to be sinless, perhaps they claimed this by saying that the law no longer applied to them, because they had now entered the age of the Spirit. But John’s claim that “sin is lawlessness” implies that “lawlessness is sin,” it reaffirms the centrality of the Law in the Christian life. Remember, John told us that he has written his sermon so that we may not sin, and he writes to us a new commandment, which is the same as the old commandment. And this commandment which we have heard is that we believe in the name of Christ, and love one another.
The commandment, the law of love, is central to John’s teaching of the Christian life. By summarizing the law with the command to love, Christ has put the emphasis on the active requirement of God’s law, and of righteousness. Sin is not merely the violation of a code, it is a lack of love, which is hate, as his story of Cain and Abel will illustrate.
So in the context of the church to which John is writing, those who have gone out from the church, the antichrists, have hated their brothers, and shown themselves to be lawless, i.e., lacking in love.
The Son of God appeared to take away sins
The preceding section was focused on our holiness in the light of the second coming of Christ and the judgment: “abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink from him in shame at his coming…. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.” Our hope, therefore, is perfect righteousness, our hope is future, and unseen. For if you see it now, it is not hope. Because of the new birth, we are children of God, and we will look just like our older brother when he returns. We will be pure, so Christian hope entails purifying ourselves now for that hope. Hope looks to the future. When he appears, we will appear like him, we shall see him as he is, and what we will be has not yet appeared. Future.
John continues the same theme, but now shifts gears to talk about the first coming of Christ, he talks about the past, what has already happened. “You know that he appeared to take away sin… the reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil (the one who has been sinning since the beginning)… By this it is apparent who are the children of God.”
The word translated “evident” in the ESV is in fact the same word for “appear.” Woodenly, John is saying that because Christ has appeared to take away sin, and to destroy the chief sinner, that the children of God have now appeared. They have appeared as those in which sin, and the works of the devil, have already been destroyed. Though what we will be has not yet appeared — we are not yet pure like Christ — the family resemblance is taking shape. Whoever does not practice righteousness — whoever does not love like they have been loved — is not of God, for God is love.
When you confessed your sins today, did you think about all the ways you have failed to love this week? Failed to love your spouse, your children, your neighbor? Your fellow Christians? I have a neighbor, a literal neighbor, living on my street, whom I cannot for the life of me love. I am torn up by guilt over it. They are, for various reasons you don’t need to know, extremely unlovely to me. Yet I know that Christ loved me when I was an enemy, when I was most unlovely to him. Somehow we always picture ourselves as pretty lovable folks, but we weren’t, not in God’s eyes, not when he first set his love on us. We were filthy, dirty, poor. We had nothing. I know that I wouldn’t even know love if he hadn’t have loved me first, by laying his life down for my sins, for this sin.
Sin is lawlessness, it is lack of love. Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. In him, there is no sin. There could be no sin, for there was only love, perfect love. If we love one another, John writes, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us. Our Christ-likeness, our sinlessness, our destiny — is directly proportional to our love.
No one born of God makes a practice of sinning
So, Christ already has appeared, and will appear. The children of God do not yet appear as they will at his coming, but are already apparent. The family resemblance is strong, it is clear. You can tell the children of God from those who are the children of the devil. As John points out in our reading next week, have you ever heard the story of Cain and Abel?
But what does this mean in practice, as we live our lives between these two appearings, between the first and second comings of Christ? What does John mean when he writes, “No one born of God makes a practice of sinning… He cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God.”
First of all, we must reiterate what we emphasized last week. The causation is clear. Being born of God is the reason that we cannot keep sinning, whatever that means. We can’t practice sinning, because God’s seed abides in us. God’s holiness, his righteousness, has been implanted in us. The acorn will become an oak tree when it reaches maturity, the branches will reach out and up to the sun. So, whatever it means that no one born of God practices sin, or keeps on sinning, it is a result of the new birth. Our purity, in whatever form, is an effect of the Spirit’s working, and God’s gift. We love, because he first loved us.
Second, it is clear that what John is talking about here is not absolute sinlessness, Christian perfection. That would conflict directly with what John wrote earlier in his sermon. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. … I am writing so that you may not sin, but if anyone does sin, we have an advocate… a propitiation for our sins.” That is, the Child of God has an advocate to propitiate for his sins. The child of God, between the two appearings of Christ, is at least in one sense, a sinner. While in another sense, he cannot, he is unable, to “keep on sinning.”
The answer here is that in our current section John is speaking of sin as a characteristic activity. We read “Everyone who makes a practice of sinning… keeps on sinning. Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning [continuously] from the beginning.” The one born of God “cannot keep on sinning” because he has been born of God, he can’t continue to pursue the life of sin as he did before, he cannot continue on as he was. He is a changed being. He instead practices righteousness, and is righteous, as his head, Jesus Christ, is righteous.
Our catechism uses the language of mortification here. Question 87 asks whether we can be saved if we continue in our wicked lives and fail to turn to God? By no means. And true conversion to God consists in mortification of the old man, and quickening of the new. “What is the mortification of the old man (q. 89)? It is a heartfelt sorrow that we have provoked God by our sins, and more and more to hate them and flee from them.”
To say that our lives are no longer characterized by sin, is not to soften John’s demand here. He is, as it were, dead serious about the new life of righteousness that is demanded by Christ’s love having been implanted in us.
By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.
Do not love in word or talk, but in deed and in truth. This is the same warning we get from James. If anyone says they have faith, but they have no works, such empty faith will not save them. Our faith is in Christ, the one who loved us out of the grave. Our hope is in purity, and holiness. How can we hope for that we do not strive for?
Christ’s Appearing and Our Appearing
The whole thrust of this section is that we have been born of God, and are being remade after God’s image. The imputation of God’s righteousness — of God’s love — from Christ to you is not with effect, it does not take place without the actual infusion of this transforming love as well. This is the clear teaching of the Reformation against the medieval church, that inverted the order, infusion (pouring in) caused imputation, justification.
If we’re not loving, we’re aping our father the devil. A liar, a murderer. The antichrist. The antithesis between the world and the church is absolute, even if the lines seem a bit muddy at times. What we see in part now, through a veil, we will then see in completeness at his coming.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 8: The Father’s Gift (1 John 2:28 - 3:3)

Sun, 3 Apr 2011 09:22:36 -0400

Texts: 1 John 2:28 - 3:3, Isaiah 43:1 - 7
The New Birth
The Pharisee, Nicodemus, came to Jesus under the cover of darkness. “Teacher, we know that you are from God. No one can do the things you do but God is with him.”
Pharisees are not above seeking good advice. Nicodemus knows a gifted spiritual teacher when he sees one. And though he is unwilling to follow him in the broad light of day, Nicodemus butters him up good, in the hopes that he might learn what he can from him. One would think Jesus would welcome this first sign of faith from among the Jews, whom he came to save. But his response is rather abrupt; it doesn’t follow:
“Truly, truly, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
Jesus entirely reframes the discussion. What? Born again? When he is old? Climb back into his mother’s womb? Yes, you must be born of the Spirit, from above, to enter the kingdom of God. How can these things be? You are a teacher of Israel, and you do not know?
You must be born again.
This encounter occurs early in John’s Gospel as an illustration of the great truth already announced in the prologue:
But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
The kingdom is not found in exploration, or introspection. It is not found in spiritual technique, or in the striving of the flesh of men. Jesus is not a teacher who offers tips for a happier, highly effective, life. He is a redeemer, the one eternally begotten of God who was born of a woman, so that we who were born of a woman might become children of God, and be born from on high, by the Spirit. Redeemed, not by our blood, or ethnicity. Nor our natural birth, high or low. Nor by the will of our flesh, or our human longings. But redeemed, born anew, by the Spirit of God.
The New Life
This same truth of the new birth is at the center of John’s epistle, but the Apostle’s perspective, and his concern, has changed. The Gospel was concerned with the origin of the new birth, and the source of our faith — he tells us it was written, you will recall, “so that we might believe and have life.” But the Epistle is written to a church wracked by heresy, and division. A church frightened by the perspective of the passing of the last living Apostle, and the imminent return of the Lord in judgment; a church filled with chaos and confusion.
Among the apostolic followers of Jesus, John is uniquely powerful in his teaching of the new birth. And as he writes to his “little children” in this last, dark hour — those who have been born again of God — his concern is to exhort them to the confidence, the holiness, and the hope which stems from the new birth, the new life of the believer, as it were.
I want to look at three aspects of the New Life, which flows from the new birth.
1. First, the relationship between the new birth and holiness
2. Second, the confidence that flows from the new birth, and
3. Third, its present and future reality.
The New Birth and Holiness
There is an undeniable relationship between the New Birth and righteousness. This is the immediate context of John’s introduction of the New Birth:
If you know that he is righteous, you may be sure that everyone who practices righteousness has been born of him.
This relationship, and the certainty with which John expresses it, may cause you to doubt. “Let us love one another,” John writes in chapter 4, “for love is of God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.” We may be inclined to think from this that it is by our love, by practicing righteousness, that we are born of God.
But this is clearly not the case. We have already heard from John’s Gospel, that we are born of God not of the will of the flesh or the will of man, but of God. Later in this chapter we will read, “No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God’s seed abides in him, and he cannot keep on sinning because he has been born of God.” The Father has given this love to us, he has given us the rights to be born of God. As Jesus tells Nicodemus, we are born from above, by the Spirit, and this working of the Spirit is not dependent on us, but on the Spirit alone. He blows where he wills. We know that he abides in us, by the Spirit he has given us. This is, preeminently, the gift of the Father. John repeats it later in the letter, “and by this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.”
Even if we recognize that our holiness is the result, and not the cause, of the New Birth, our lack of holiness may still cause us to doubt whether we have been born again. But note that the whole thrust of John’s teaching about the new birth is not to cause doubt, but instill confidence. We who have been born of the Spirit are righteous, because he is righteous. We are holy because we have the anointing of the Holy one. All who believe in Christ, John tells us, have been born of God, and everyone who loves the Father loves whoever has been born of him. In this way, the children of God love their brothers, and the brothers Cain and Abel are the model for the lack of love that the Sons of the Devil exhibit to the Sons of God. This is why the world hates us.
For every exhortation to perfect love, John makes it abundantly clear that this faith is the foundational truth of the new birth, and that we will be made perfectly like Christ only at his appearing. The children of God are holy because God’s seed abides in them, and this seed is growing up unto maturity. There is a concrete participation in this abiding; we have crossed over from dark into light. We are no longer in our natural state, something new has occurred. And this new thing has brought us into a familial relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, and we have a family resemblance.
Finally, we are holy because our advocate pleads for us and protects us. John writes, in closing, We know that everyone who has been born of God does not keep on sinning, but he who was born of God protects him, and the evil one does not touch him. The eternally born Son of God, the only-begotten, protects us from the evil one.
Those who are born of God — as a gift, by faith — are holy, for their God is holy, they love, because he loved them first.
Confidence In the Day of His Appearing
It has been a number of weeks now, but in the previous section, we read of the anointing of the Holy Spirit, which gave believers true knowledge in the face of the heretics. This anointing abides in believers, gives them knowledge, and seals them against those who are trying to deceive them.
The teaching of the New Birth which we read about in our text today is the ultimate ground of the confidence we enjoy in Christ. We have the confidence of children before the King. I think of the pictures of JFK, Jr., John-John, playing under his father’s desk in the White House, or strolling hand in hand with his Daddy in the rose garden. His Father was the leader of a nation, arguably the most powerful man in the world, yet he only knew of him as his Daddy, and thought of his access to him as direct and total.
We are children of God. This is not, contrary to the teaching of spiritual men everywhere, a universal prerogative, it is not a description of our status as humans. It is a gift that we have received, a gift unknown by the world, that makes us unknowable by the world. For the world doesn’t know him.
Our confidence means we won’t shrink in shame at his appearing. Do you see the power of the judgment here? God’s love is infinite in its magnitude, but it is not absolute in its scope. Many will shrink in shame at his coming. John writes we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world. The one coming to judge is our elder brother; we share a family resemblance, we have been reborn, and are being remade in his likeness. This is the confidence that we have toward him, John writes, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. We hold our confidence toward him, the one coming to judge is the one who has already come to save, and it is our faith in him that has made us children of God.
The book of Hebrews, another sermon written to a church in tribulation, shares a similar focus on the confidence of believers. Like John, Hebrews holds this confidence in orientation to the future. We hold our confidence and boasting in hope, we hold it firm to the end, and we hold it dear, because it has a great reward. This confidence, in Hebrews, is anchored ultimately in the access we have by the blood of Jesus to the throne of God, we draw near to the throne of grace in confidence, and with confidence enter the holy of holies by the blood of Jesus. Jesus, the judge, is our advocate. He hears us, he pleads for us, he protects us, he defends us.
The fact that we are children of God, that he abides in us and is united to us, gives us confidence in the face of his coming judgment.
Confidence When He Appears
Finally, our new life has a present and future reality.
Do you notice the prominence of the element of time in these few short verses? “When he appears” occurs twice, and John emphatically tells us that “we are God’s children now,” but that “what we will be has not yet appeared.”
The fancy word for this viewpoint in the New Testament is “eschatology,” the New Testament fact that we taste the riches of the heavenly age already even now, that heaven and glory is breaking in already into a world lost in sin and death. For John, being a “child of God” is a thoroughly eschatological concept.
John is known among New Testament writers for emphasizing the present realization of God’s redeeming work. He closes this letter telling us “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.” And so, we are God’s children now. But being a child of God implies, indeed, requires, a likeness to God. We love one another, because we are born of God, and God is love. God has implanted the seed of love in us in our new birth, and we will, as a result, love one another. For John, this connection between the new birth and the new life, the new holiness is absolute. It cannot be broken. We can prove patrimony — It’s like DNA, or a blood test. We know, John writes, that when he appears we shall be like him.
But what we will be has not yet appeared. The tension here is similar to the opening of the letter, where we read “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” It is, in fact, precisely the same idea. As children of God, John addresses us in the full expectation that we will be sinless. That we will purify ourselves as he is pure. But then he comforts us in our sin with the truth of the advocate, who in fact is purifying us, protecting us.
Our new life has a present and future reality. And it gives us hope, even in the face of the coming judgment, because we know that we shall be as pure as the coming one when he arrives, we hope in his coming for it is our deliverance from a world that bears us down. And because we hope in the coming one, we purify ourselves.
John is laying here the foundation for a strong exhortation to love that is to be found in the coming verses. And that foundation is based upon the fact that we have been born of God. That new birth — evident in our faith, sealed in our baptism — bears the fruit of new life, and holiness, confidence, and hope.
What we will be has not yet appeared. But we are God’s children now. And we know, that when he appears, we shall see him as he is, and we shall be like him.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift

John’s Epistles 7: Christ, Antichrist and the Christian (1 John 2:18 - 27)

Sun, 13 Mar 2011 23:49:41 -0400

Texts: 1 John 2:18 - 27; Isaiah 61:1 - 7

The Christ
Any good sermon about the antichrist should begin, and end, with the Christ, whom he opposes.
Our Heidelberg Catechism, in teaching through the articles of the Apostles’ Creed, asks why Jesus is called “Christ, meaning anointed”:
Answer: Because he has been ordained by God the Father and has been anointed with the Holy Spirit to be our chief prophet and teacher who perfectly reveals to us the secret counsel and will of God for our deliverance; our only high priest who has set us free by the one sacrifice of his body, and who continually pleads our cause with the Father; and our eternal king who governs us by his Word and Spirit, and who guards us and keeps us in the freedom he has won for us. (Heidelberg Catechism 31)
Jesus is called “Christ” because he is anointed, “Christos” is the Greek parallel of the Hebrew “Messiah,” anointed one. Jesus is called “Christ” because he is the Messiah.
But the catechism tells us more than that; it tells us what it means that the Promised one of Israel was known as the anointed one, and the catechism’s answer reflects the Reformation insight into the threefold office of Christ. Jesus Christ, as Messiah, is the fulfillment of the three Old Testament offices that were marked by the anointing. He is the True Prophet, greater than Moses, who perfectly reveals God’s will for our redemption, he is the High Priest of the order of Melchizedek, who by his perfect sacrifice has redeemed us, and He is our Eternal King, whereby he protects us and keeps us in our redemption.
And indeed, this understanding of “Christ” is crucial for our understanding of the Antichrist, as he, or they, are introduced to us here in 1 John. John’s concern here is to comfort the saints of the Lord, who are being disturbed by the antichrists who have risen up in their midst and gone out from them. And against those who deny that Christ is the Messiah, the anointed one, John holds forth the comfort of our own anointing, by which we are taught by the True Prophet, and have been made to know the truth. In this battle between Christ and Antichrist, between truth and deception, we have nothing to fear because we share his anointing, his chrism. Three times in this text John mentions the antichrists, and countered three times with our chrism, our anointing.
Antichrists and the Antichrist
It is somewhat ironic that in popular eschatology — think “Left Behind” books, Hal Lindsay’s Late Great Planet Earth, and others — the Antichrist is such a source of speculation and doubt. I am not entirely proud to say that I grew up watching Pat Robertson on the 700 Club every weekday morning and hearing about the signs that the rapture was near — mostly headlines from the Soviet Union and the Middle East — and one of the first things I remembered ever hearing about President Reagan was the uncanny fact that each of his three names was comprised of 6 letters: Ronald Wilson Reagan, 666.
Yet John, who blessed us with the word “Antichrist,” has the stated goal of ending end times speculation and removing doubt. His aim is our comfort. It is the last hour. Now. As I write, that is, in the year 90. Almost 2000 years ago. And he repeats it for effect, and with no hint of speculation or guesswork: “even now many antichrists have come, therefore WE KNOW it is the last hour.”
John was not confused; he was not mistaken. Though he is the only New Testament author to use the term “antichrist,” he clearly assumes that the church he addresses was familiar with it. They had “heard” that the antichrist was coming. Paul calls him the “Man of Lawlessness,” and Jesus himself had spoken of the one who abominates and desolates standing where he ought not to be, that is, defiling the holy places, referencing the image used by the Prophet Daniel. The return of Christ and the consummation of all history was clearly taught to coincide with a period of crisis and heightened opposition, an opposition that would be led by a notorious figure, an antichrist. Despite the fact that no one knew the day or hour of his return, the hour of his return would be marked by the final defeat and revelation of the one whose activity was behind the lawless one, Satan.
It is far less important to identify the individual antichrist, than the spirit of the antichrist. Both Paul and John recognize this. In 2 Thessalonians, Paul says the “mystery of lawlessness” is already at work, now until the lawless one is finally revealed, just as John tells us there are many antichrists. Here as in the book of Revelation John is comforting the church with the knowledge that though the Spirit of antichrist is already at work in the world — lying about Jesus and working to undo his priestly, prophetical, and kingly work — he has already been overcome by our king, and in Christ we overcome him as well.
No, John and the Apostles were not mistaken about the return of Christ. They knew that it was imminent, that the prince of this world had been cast down, and his death throes were in their final stages. They were not predicting its date, they were establishing the fundamental New Testament claim that all of God’s promises had already been fulfilled, and what remained was but the consummating act.
Who are the Antichrists?
The church had been disturbed by the departure of the antichrists, which John describes in his characteristically colorful way:
They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us.
Four times he repeats the same phrase, with slightly different meaning: They went out from us, but were not of us, if they had been of us, they would have continued. They went out, making it clear they were not of us.
What is emphasized in this is that the departure and separation of the antichrists from the church was not an accident, but was a revelation of what had always been true. Even when they were in our midst, they were not “of us,” they were not a part of our fellowship. In the first section of the letter, John spoke of those who claimed to know God, claimed to be sinless but did not show love, and were in fact blinded by the darkness. Theirs was an ethical failure. Here, John describes the failure of the antichrists in terms of their false doctrine, and denial of the Son. “Who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son.”
In their departure, the antichrists showed that they had never rightly confessed the Son, and indeed, their error was made plain in outright denial. What is taught here is the same truth that is taught by the Reformed doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, the “P” in the TULIP of the five points of Calvinism. Perseverance of the saints does not teach that once an outward decision of Christ is made, there is an eternal guarantee of salvation, as though if you walked the aisle, prayed the prayer, or filled out the card there is nothing further you must do.
No. We recognize that there are many false sons in the pale of the church, that hypocrites abound, and that many show temporary faith. Such is the clear teaching of the parable of the sower, where some seed falls on the rocky soil and springs up quickly only to whither in the heat of the day, or among the thorns, and is choked by the trials of life. The perseverance of the saints teaches us that those who make a good confession, persevere in it. The word that they heard in the beginning abides in them, and they abide in the Son, and in the Father. True faith, once gained, is maintained, by the abiding word preached and received. Those who go out from us were never of us, if they had been, they would have continued.
Since John describes only the error of the antichrists — their denial that Jesus is the Christ — we do not know what they taught, or to what error they sought to deceive the saints. But they seemed to have claimed to know a different route to the Father, a Christless Christianity that did not require the man Jesus for a Savior. To which error John is absolutely clear: No one who denies the Son has the Father; only the confession of the Son gives one fellowship with the Father. So those who thought they could find alternate routes to God, who denied the necessity of the cross, were not only denying the Son, but the Father also. They were offering a false hope, and were both deceived and deceiving.
Who are the Christians?
John’s focus, however, is not here on the antichrists, but on those who have the “chrisma,” the anointing of the Holy One. He writes to remind the christened ones, the baptized, that they know the truth, and why they know the truth. Again, note that John does not abandon the concept of “knowledge” to the so-called gnostics, who claimed special spiritual insight, and claimed to know God. “You have been anointed by the Holy One, and you have knowledge, you know the truth.”
There is no way to the Father, but by the Son. “Whoever confesses the Son has the Father also.” When you come to faith in Christ, there is no higher life, no second blessing, no special recipe to seek out. The Christian life is not a “faith journey” where you discover new truths, pick up spiritual expertise along the way, and finally graduate to the next level. That which we heard in the beginning — the promise of eternal life in the Son — is what abides in us to the very end. The Word of Faith, Paul writes in Romans 10, is near you. You mustn’t climb up into the heavens to pull Christ down, you mustn’t go down into the abyss. The Father came near to you in the Son, and in the preaching of life in his name. As Moses said to the Israelites on the shore of the Red Sea: “The Lord will fight for you; you have only to be silent.”
The knowledge we have was not discovered, it was not unearthed, it was not learned in the active sense. It was bestowed on us, it was received. Three times John reminds us that we have knowledge because we were anointed; we were christened because we confess the Christ, but more importantly, we confess the Christ because we were Christened. “The anointing that you received from him abides in you, and you have no need that anyone should teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about everything, and is true, and is no lie — just as it has taught you, abide in him.
This is the blessing of the New Covenant, as it was foretold by Jeremiah:
I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more. (Jeremiah 31:33 – 34)
And this, our catechism reminds us, is why we are called Christians, because we, like Christ, have been anointed, and like Christ serve as prophets, priests, and kings in his Kingdom:
Because by faith I am a member of Christ and so I share in his anointing. I am anointed to confess his name, to present myself to him as a living sacrifice of thanks, to strive with a good conscience against sin and the devil in this life, and afterward to reign with Christ over all creation for all eternity. (Heidelberg Catechism 32)
Conclusion
The arrival — and departure — of antichrists should not disturb us. It is a sign of the times; it is the last hour. The great Deceiver has been defeated, and he roars about as a lion because he knows his fate. He cannot strike down the Prince of Peace, and the truth is not in his corner. All he can do is try to deceive you, to pull you away from that simple truth you have heard, your first love.
You may think the weight of your guilty conscience is a strike against you, your lack of zeal betrays you. But you have been anointed by the Holy One, and Jesus Christ the Righteous One is your advocate; he is in your corner. No one who hears this promise of eternal life can say they cannot confess his name, for the Word of life brings with it the power to believe, and to persevere. No one who has received the promise can say it is too difficult to endure, for his yoke is easy. He has endured for you. No christened one can say they have failed to master their sins, for the Christ has mastered them, and he that has overcome the world now guards you.
As easy as it was to believe, to receive that promise, so it is to abide in him. His anointing was true in him, and it is true in you, and it is no lie. Abide in him.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain.  Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.
As a new mission church in the heart of Washington DC, we still depend on the support of generous churches and individuals around the world. If you benefit from our text or audio sermons, please consider incorporating Christ Reformed into your tithing or missions budget by making a small monthly gift