Scott Simon interviewed the Jesuit priest James Martin on NPR Saturday morning, March 6. Martin just published The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything: A Spirituality for Real Life (Harper One, 2010). The last question Simon asked was this: “If there is a God, why do little children suffer?”

Martin answered, “That is the hardest question, and I think the answer is, we don’t know.” To his credit, Martin did go on to say that, for the Christian, Christ has entered into our suffering and gives consolation. He also asks wisely, “Can we believe in a God whose ways we don’t understand?” He answers Yes.

I am glad that Martin pointed to Christ’s sufferings. And I am glad he affirmed that we can believe in a God whose ways may be inscrutable to us. But the Bible does not want us to say “We don’t know,” when the overarching Why questions are asked about suffering and death.

It is true, we may not know for sure why any particular child suffers in this particular way. But the Bible wants us to speak what it says about death and suffering.

Why do little children suffer and die? We ask it with the awareness that it is happening this very moment by the hundreds, and we ask it through tears of personal experience and empathy. Here is one biblical answer: “Just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned—” (Romans 5:12).

Death came into the world through sin.

That is the fundamental biblical answer for where all suffering and death came from. Or to use the words of Romans 8:20, “The creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope.”

In other words, because of sin, God subjected the entire creation to the futility of mortality with all its suffering and death. The whole creation groans under the judgment.

If the interviewer says, “That seems a bit harsh, to bring the whole creation under the judgment of suffering and death, including little children, because of one man’s sin?” we answer,

“That is how outrageous sin against an infinitely wise and good and holy God is. We don’t measure the outrage of our suffering by how insignificant we think sin is; we measure the outrage of sin by the scope of suffering.

The really amazing thing is that you and I, as sinners, are sitting here talking, when we deserve to be in hell. God is remarkably patient. And he gave his Son to die in our place so that everyone who believes may escape from this judgment and have eternal life.”

I just read Numbers 7 on my annual way through the Bible. I read every word. It is one of the longest, most repetitive chapters in the Bible.

From verse 12 to verse 83 Moses describes the offerings that each of the twelve tribes of Israel brought to the tabernacle when it was first dedicated to the Lord.

But here’s the amazing thing. There are 93 words in the description of what each tribe brought as an offering. And all 93 words are repeated verbatim for each of the 12 tribes. Twelve times he says exactly the same thing. Twelve times! Exactly the same 93-word description for each tribe’s offering!

Why?

Gordon Wenham answers: “It seems likely that a theological purpose underlies his wordiness.”

The purpose he says is “to emphasize as strongly as possible that every tribe had an equal stake in the worship of God, and that each was fully committed to the support of the tabernacle and its priesthood.” (Numbers, p. 93)

Yes. But let the method of emphasis sink in. Moses could have used Wenham’s words and saved time, space, and tedium. He could have said, “Every tribe has an equal stake in worship and all are to be fully committed to the tabernacle.” That’s 18 words. But he used 12 x 93 = 1,116 words.

Here are some lessons:

• There are times when you look into every child’s eyes and say the same important thing. You don’t say the precious thing to one and then sweep over the others: “That applies to all of you.”
• These tribes are not equal. Some are larger. Some have sordid legacies. But everyone heard every word of God’s plan for their approach to God. Every one. Every word. Identical.
• Efficiency is not always the highest value. Slow, long, repetitions are sometimes the best way to make an impact.
• Patience in reading God’s word may be a test of the frenzy of our pace and our demanding attitude toward the Bible that it be the way we want, not the way God made it.

The video below is a message I gave last Monday in chapel at Westmont College. It is a rethinking of an old idea. I used to ask, How is it loving for God to make so much of himself and do everything for his glory? Now I ask: Why does God reveal his love for us in such a way that it turns out to be for his glory?

Or: I used to say: Do you feel more loved when God makes much of you or when he frees you to enjoy making much of him? Now I say, “Why does God make so much of us in a way that winds up making much of him?”

It may not sound very different. But I think many will feel a significant shift. See if it helps.

William Wilberforce was driven in his political, emancipation efforts by a clear doctrinal understanding of what Christianity was. Pray that those today who care deeply about social justice will be as vigilant to righteous action in right thinking.

He was especially jealous to keep clear the right relationship between good works and justification. Notice especially his third statement below about what Christianity is.

Wilberforce said, "Christianity is:

• a scheme "for justifying the ungodly" [Romans 4:5], by Christ’s dying for them "when yet sinners" [Romans 5:6-8],
• a scheme "for reconciling us to God"—when enemies [Romans 5:10];
• and for making the fruits of holiness the effects, not the cause, of our being justified and reconciled."

William Wilberforce, A Practical View of Christianity, ed. Kevin Charles Belmonte (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1996), p. 64. Emphasis added, but the capitalization is his emphasis.

Genesis chapters 37-41 only tell the low and high points of Joseph’s Egyptian slavery and imprisonment. But he spent at least 12 years there before he suddenly became Prime Minister. And during that terribly lonely, desolate time, things seemed to go from bad to worse.

This imaginative reflection takes place about 9 years into his sojourn.

*               *               *

Darkness had swallowed the light again. Joseph dreaded the night in this foul Egyptian hellhole. It was hard to fight off the relentless hopelessness as he awaited the escape of sleep.

Day after monotonous day passed with no sign of change. The familiar desperation surged hot in his chest. His youth was seeping out the cracks of his cage. He was pacing in his soul. Joseph wanted to scream.

Fists to his forehead he pleaded again with God in the dark for deliverance.

And he remembered. It was the remembering that kept his hope alive and bitterness at bay.

He rehearsed the stories of God that had filled him with awe as a child. God had promised Great-grandfather, Abraham, a child by his barren wife. But he made them wait an agonizing 25 years before giving them Grandfather Isaac. And God had promised Grandmother Rebekah that her older twin, Uncle Esau, would serve the younger twin, Father Jacob. But God had mysteriously woven human deception and immorality into his plan to make that happen.

Jacob’s smile filled Joseph’s mind. O Father. He covered his mouth to choke back his sobs. It had been 9 years since he last saw that dear face. Would he ever again? Was Father still alive?

He felt something crawl across his leg. Leaping up, he brushed himself off. He shook out the mat. A shiver ran down his spine. Joseph hated spiders. 

Laying back down he remembered how Father Jacob had been caught in his Uncle Laban’s manipulative web for 20 long years. Yet God was faithful to his word and eventually delivered Jacob and brought him back to the Promised Land a wealthy man.

And then there were those strange dreams. They had been unusually powerful, unlike any others before or since. He felt ambivalent about them. They likely were the reason he was now in Egypt. His brothers’ envy of his father’s favor turned homicidal when he inferred that he had God’s favor as well.

Distant screams let Joseph know another fight had broken out in the barracks. It made him grateful for his private cell, the favor bestowed on the chief scribe to the warden.

He smiled at the irony of this “favor.” His brothers would love this if they knew. He seemed about as far away from what those dreams foretold as he could be.

Yet, as foolish as it seemed right now, Joseph could not shake the deep conviction that God meant to bring those dreams to pass. And he could not deny the strange pattern he saw in God’s dealings with his forebears. God made stunning promises and then ordained time and circumstances to work in such ways as to make the promises seem impossible to fulfill. And then God moved.

The common thread Joseph traced through all the stories, the one thing God seemed to honor and bless more than anything else, was faith. Abraham trusted God’s word. Isaac trusted God’s word. Rebekah trusted God’s word. Jacob trusted God’s word. All of them ultimately saw God’s faithfulness to his promises, despite circumstances and their own failings.

Faith-fueled peace doused the anxious fire in Joseph’s chest. “I trust you, my God,” he whispered. “Like my forefathers, I will wait for you. I have no idea what my being in an Egyptian prison has to do with your purposes. But I will keep honoring you here where you have placed me. Bring your word to pass as it seems best to you. I am yours. Use me!”

*               *               *

In the biblical account it’s tempting to only see Joseph’s heroic character and achievements. But God does not want us to miss the largely silent, desperate years Joseph endured.

Imagine the pain of his brothers’ betrayal, the separation from his father, the horror of slavery, the seduction and false accusation by Potiphar’s wife, and the desperation he felt as his youth passed away in prison.

Sometimes faithfulness to God and his word sets us on a course where circumstances get worse, not better. It is then that knowing God’s promises and his ways are crucial. Faith in God’s future grace for us is what sustains us in those desperate moments.

We all love the fairytale ending of Joseph’s story. And we should, because Joseph’s life is a foreshadowing of a heavenly reality. God sent his Son to die and be raised in order to set his children “free indeed” (John 8:36). There is coming a day when those who are faithful, even to death (Revelation 2:10) will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master” (Matthew 25:21).

Our current circumstances, however dismal or successful, are not our story’s end. They are chapters in a much larger story that really does have a happily ever after.

Some Bible passages make crystal clear what we must not assume when reading other Bible passages. For example, consider Exodus 33:13 where Moses prays to God,

If I have found favor in your sight,
please show me now your ways,
that I may know you,
in order to find favor in your sight.

What this verse prevents us from assuming is that, if God’s favor is conditional, it is therefore not unconditional.

Or to put it another way, the verse prevents us from assuming that, if God’s favor is unconditional, it is not therefore conditional.

Knowing God through knowing his ways is the condition of finding favor in his sight in the future. “Please show me now your ways, that I may know you in order to find favor in your sight.”

And finding favor in God’s sight is the unconditional ground of knowing God through knowing his ways. “If I have found favor in your sight, please show me now your ways.”

We may not assume that conditions of being in God’s favor in the future cancel out the truth that we are already in his favor, and that this is how we are able to meet the conditions of future favor.

Nor may we assume that the presence of conditions makes our future insecure! As if God’s prior unconditional favor will not guarantee that we meet the conditions.

O how precious are the strange and wonderful verses like Exodus 33:13!

And even more, how precious is the electing, calling, regenerating, all-providing, favor of God’s unconditional grace!

Is Colossians 1:15-20 the most important paragraph in the Bible for a Christian worldview?

[Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

In his latest post, Albert Mohler reviews Tiger Woods' recent public address, calling it "a remarkable statement of confession." Nonetheless, he is careful to also point out "the radical distinction" between the standard that Woods' newly reclaimed Buddhism calls him to and the salvation Jesus provides.

Indeed, Buddhism teaches the aim of emptying the self of all desire. As [Stephen] Prothero observes, “Buddhists observe that suffering arises from a 12-fold chain of interlocking causes and effects. Among these causes is craving. We crave this woman or that car because we think that getting her or it will make us happy. But this craving only ties us into an unending cycle of misery, because even if we get what we want there is always something more to crave — another woman or another man, a faster car or a bigger house.”

[...]

Christianity speaks honestly of desire and affirms that wrongful desires can and do lead to sin, destruction, and death. Nevertheless, Christianity does not teach that all desire is wrong. Indeed, the Bible affirms that God made us to desire Him. Even in our sinful state, something within us cries out for our need — and desire — for divine forgiveness and redemption.

Christianity does not teach that we should (or could) empty ourselves of all desire, but rather that we should desire the salvation that Christ alone has accomplished for us — the salvation that leads to divine forgiveness and the restoration of relationship we should surely desire. Once we know that salvation, our desire for God is only increased and pointed to eternity.

Watch John Piper talk about how God responds to atheists like Richard Dawkins:

(This excerpt comes from the 2008 Don't Waste Your Life Regional Conference, which is also a part of the Don't Waste Your Life DVD set.)

A couple weeks ago we concluded our Pastors Conference with a question and answer session featuring all of our conference speakers. As always, there was a handful of questions that we ran out of time for.

The following two questions about missions were addressed to Bob Blincoe, which he has now graciously answered in writing:

What is the connection between a gospel that is relevant to all people at all times, and the need to contextualize the gospel to a specific people you are trying to reach?

Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles, wrote, “I become all things to all people that by all means possible I might save some” (1 Corinthians 9:22). Peter, the apostle to the Jews, could not have written that.

John, at the end of his life, wrote “In the beginning was the Logos” and “The Logos was with Theos.” This is a missionary text, written for the Greek speakers by a Jew. And what do we learn from John? We learn that words already filled with meaning in foreign cultures can be given new meaning if we, the presenters, control the definitions. Thus, “The Logos became flesh and dwelt among us” is about Jesus Christ, not about an inanimate philosophical principal.

And what do we learn from Paul? We learn that we missionaries, if we are going to “win” (kerdos in Greek) peoples of other cultures, must de-Judaize (or de-Europeanize, or de-Koreanize) our presentation of the gospel.

The goal is that the cross of Christ be the scandal about which men and women must decide, without making it difficult for newcomers to face the cross by their need to also accept our culture or language.

How would the world of missions change if every missionary embraced the truth that becoming a missionary is the most enjoyable thing they could possibly do with their lives?

Ah, good question. We are all “in the bread line” to get whatever our Father has for us, because He knows our needs. So let us be eager (eager!) to say “Not my will but Thine be done.”

Some missionaries would go home after they realize that their best future is to be with their families in their home country. That is good; but many more Christians are probably receiving the Father’s bread (I speak now of a missionary calling) and are distressed, being burdened with all the loss and grief they feel in giving up whatever it is that they are giving up.

I can help them a little to have faith, but the Bible and their church leaders are the means of grace for them to remain joyous in believing the “missionary advantage.” Wouldn’t you sell all in order to gain the Great Commission promise of Jesus Christ, “I will be with you to the end of the age?”

Are you so discouraged you don’t know what to do next? I want to help you get through this. Maybe this will help.

The following quote is from my journal dated November 6, 1986. I had been at Bethlehem 6 years. If you have ever felt like this, remember this is 24 years ago and I am still here.

The point is: Beware of giving up too soon. Our emotions are not reliable guides.

Am I under attack by Satan to abandon my post at Bethlehem? Or is this the stirring of God to cause me to consider another ministry? Or is this God's way of answering so many prayers recently that we must go a different way at BBC than building? I simply loathe the thought of leading the church through a building program. For two years I have met for hundreds of hours on committees. I have never written a poem about it. It is deadening to my soul. I am a thinker. A writer. A preacher. A poet and songwriter. At least these are the avenues of love and service where my heart flourishes. . . .

Can I be the pastor of a church moving through a building program? Yes, by dint of massive will power and some clear indications from God that this is the path of greatest joy in him long term. But now I feel very much without those indications. The last two years (the long range planning committee was started in August 1984) have left me feeling very empty.

The church is looking for a vision for the future—and I do not have it. The one vision that the staff zeroed in on during our retreat Monday and Tuesday of this week (namely, building a sanctuary) is so unattractive to me today that I do not see how I could provide the leadership and inspiration for it.

Does this mean that my time at BBC is over? Does it mean that there is a radical alternative unforeseen? Does it mean that I am simply in the pits today and unable to feel the beauty and power and joy and fruitfulness of an expanded facility and ministry?

O Lord, have mercy on me. I am so discouraged. I am so blank. I feel like there are opponents on every hand, even when I know that most of my people are for me. I am so blind to the future of the church. O Father, am I blind because it is not my future? Perhaps I shall not even live out the year, and you are sparing the church the added burden of a future I had made and could not complete? I do not doubt for a moment your goodness of power or omnipotence in my life or in the life of the church. I confess that the problem is mine. The weakness is in me. The blindness is in my eyes. The sin—O reveal to me my hidden faults!—is mine and mine the blame. Have mercy, Father. Have mercy on me. I must preach on Sunday, and I can scarcely lift my head.

I loved you by the bending tree
Where N plus J marks you and me.

I loved you outside Williston,
The year before God made us one.

I loved you in a paisley dress,
When everything in me said, Yes.

I loved you when your hair was long,
Like Mary and her sixties song.

I loved you in your wedding gown,
And how we tiptoed out of town.

I loved you on the balcony
Of our small flat in Germany.

I loved you when your heart was buoyed,
And even when you were annoyed.

I loved you when our first son came;
Yes, Karsten is a boy’s first name.

I loved you with the quiver full;
How could you carry such a bull!

I loved you for your leadership.
That hulk’s still sitting on your hip!

I loved you with your autumn bloom,
As if God said, “Talitha kum!”

I loved you subtle in your joy;
I loved you sweater-clad and coy.

I loved you beaming, eyes a-bright,
All formal black, and my delight.

I loved you on a mountain deck,
When I was dripping from the trek.

I loved you stokin’ at my back,
Or if you coasted with your snack.

I loved you when God took the stress,
And gave us peace at Inverness.

I loved you in the Blue Ridge trove
Near Asheville that they call the Cove.

I loved you when they made us wait.
“No charge!” they said, “the meal was late.”

I loved you when you joined with ease
To stare down all our enemies.

I love you still with mystery:
The mystery that you love me.

If you're tracking with a Bible reading plan, or for some other reason find yourself plodding through pages and pages of old covenant laws, here's some perspective to help keep you going.

It's a quote from J. G. Millar about our need to know the Old Testament in order to know the gospel. He mentions Deuteronomy in particular, but what he says applies to the whole Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible):

Much of the theological framework needed to understand the significance of Jesus' coming, life and death was put in place by Moses in his writing, and perhaps above all in Deuteronomy. For it is here that the theology of blessing and curse which lies at the heart of Jesus' sin-bearing work is first articulated. It is here that the hopelessness of humanity trapped in sin, even when chosen by God, is exposed. It is here that the prospect of a divine intervention so radical that it changes people at the very core of their being first appears. (New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, pp. 164-165)

Luke is picking up the pace when we get to Acts 8. Jesus' mandate that his disciples spread the word about him (Acts 1:8) is being fulfilled. The gospel has gone from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria, and we are on the verge of seeing it break through to the Gentiles. But right in the middle of this advance we find a short narrative about Phillip being sent to the desert to meet an Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:26-40).

Acts is full of allusions to the book of Isaiah, and this scene with the eunuch is one of them. Think back to Isaiah 56. In the place where the most explicit gospel content in the Old Testament is found, Isaiah prophesies that the salvation to come will include the conversion of the nations (Isaiah 56:1, 6-8). And in the thick of that content we read,

For thus says the LORD: “To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give in my house and within my walls a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off." (Isaiah 56:4-5)

In these verses Isaiah pictures God-fearing Gentile eunuchs, and he says that the LORD’s salvation will come even to them. “The Lord GOD, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, declares, 'I will gather yet others to him besides those already gathered'” (Isaiah 56:8). God will gather inhabitants for Zion from among the nations.

So Phillip meets an Ethiopian (Gentile) eunuch who is returning home from worshipping in Jerusalem (a God-fearer) and reading the prophet Isaiah (the same book that declares that God-fearing, Gentile eunuchs will be saved). Then, using Isaiah 53, he tells him the good news about Jesus (Acts 8:35), and this God-fearing Gentile eunuch believes.

What's the point of this little story? You see the connection: Luke is showing us that all the stuff Isaiah prophesied about is now taking place. Jesus has been crucified, buried, and risen. The Spirit has been sent. And the gospel is being proclaimed among the nations.

It's happening. God is doing his gathering work. Luke wants us to get that. Luke wants the story of this emasculated guy from East Africa to send us the message of where we’re at in the storyline. The church in Acts is on the brink of seeing God finish history—how much more the church today!

Here’s an incentive not to waste your life: we are the people upon whom the end of the ages has come.

God faithfully directs the paths of everyone who trusts in him with all their heart (Proverbs 3:5-6). But sometimes, as Moses experienced in Exodus 18, God directs us through a word of correction from someone else.

*               *               *

The reunion of Moses and Jethro was a sweet one. Moses was glad to have his wife and his two boys back with him. And Jethro sat astonished as Moses described the ten plagues, the pillar of God’s presence, the Red Sea deliverance, the provision of manna, and water from a rock. Jethro rejoiced in such unparalleled demonstrations of divine power and confessed God’s supremacy in everything.

Then Jethro observed his son-in-law at work. Clearly Moses was an extraordinary prophet, leader, and judge. But he was spending his whole day addressing one dispute or problem at a time. And the number of people waiting for a hearing only grew larger. Jethro could feel the rumblings of frustration. This looked like an eruption waiting to happen.

When Moses finally took a break, Jethro asked him a clarifying question: “Why do you sit alone, and all the people stand around you from morning till evening?” (v. 14). Note that Jethro did not assume his perception was completely correct. Perhaps Moses had a good reason. Asking this question was both wise and kind.

This gave Moses a chance to explain the job God had assigned to him: The Lord instructed Moses regarding the law, and Moses was then to teach the people and help them apply it to their particular situations.

That was helpful. Moses understood his calling and he was working hard to serve everyone.

Understanding this, Jethro said to Moses, “What you are doing is not good. You and the people with you will certainly wear yourselves out, for the thing is too heavy for you. You are not able to do it alone” (v. 17-18).

In other words, Moses’ mission was right but his method was wrong. Bad systems can undermine the best intentions.

Now, Moses was used to being criticized. Some faction was almost continually calling his leadership into question. But Jethro was different. He saw a problem, sought to understand it, identified the core weakness, and offered a solution (in verses 19-23) that served both Moses’ calling and the people’s needs. Jethro really wanted Moses and the people to thrive.

In this world such a counselor is rare.

That said, I imagine this correction still might have stung Moses a little. It would have stung me. Our prideful fallen natures hate to have our mistakes or weaknesses pointed out.

But Moses’ response revealed his humility. He didn’t brush Jethro off as an outsider who didn’t understand. He didn’t try to protect his reputation by lying that he’d been thinking about doing that very thing himself. And he didn’t pull rank by reminding Jethro who, between the two of them, tended to hear from God more.  Rather, Moses humbly received and immediately implemented Jethro’s counsel.

In this world such a leader is rare.

There’s something else remarkable about Moses’ response. Though he received frequent direct and detailed revelation from God, he was not narrow in his understanding of how God speaks and directs. Since God ruled everything he could just as easily direct him through a father-in-law as through a cloud.

Moses was not swayed by human opinion. But he was a man whose ear was always listening for God. He had been transformed by the renewing of his mind and by testing was able to discern what was the will of God (Romans 12:2).

*               *               *

What Jethro has to teach us about bringing godly correction to someone else:

1. First, we should identify specific ways God is working in and through that person and authentically rejoice with him or her.
2. Second, we must have in mind the good of everyone involved and be able to describe what that is.
3. Third, we should ask clarifying questions before we critique or counsel in order to accurately grasp the situation.
4. And fourth, we should be graciously specific in our correction and, if possible, work with him or her to find a helpful solution.

What Moses has to teach us about receiving correction from someone else:

1. First, all of us, even the most gifted, have areas that need correction.
2. Second, correction is an opportunity to cultivate valuing God’s glory and other people’s good above our reputation. It helps us not think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think.
3. Third, God might bring correction through an unexpected person. We should keep our ears open and communicate to others receptivity to their input.

For the first time in its history the Desiring God Conference for Pastors, which took place last week, was devoted to the subject of Christian Hedonism—the teaching that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.

In conjunction with the conference, it seemed good to revisit and remember some of those glad verses within the Psalter that command us to pursue our joy in God.

Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)

Be glad in the LORD and rejoice, you righteous ones; and shout for joy, all you who are upright in heart. (Psalm 32:11)

Sing for joy in the LORD, O you righteous ones; praise is becoming to the upright. (Psalm 33:1)

Let the nations be glad and sing for joy; for You will judge the peoples with uprightness and guide the nations on the earth. (Psalm 67:4)

Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth. Serve the LORD with gladness; come before Him with joyful singing. (Psalm 100:1)

For a fuller introduction to Christian Hedonism and its deep and broad biblical roots, I recommend checking out John Piper's Desiring God seminar (5 parts).

Yesterday, in my anticipation to hear John Piper's message on C. S. Lewis this coming Tuesday, I curiously checked the index of The Quotable Lewis for any listings under "biography." I wanted to see if Lewis himself ever said anything about what Piper is going to do with him.

Here's what I found. Not surprisingly, Lewis' words here point towards the theme of this year's Pastors Conference: The Pastor, the People, and the Pursuit of Joy.

It is a very consoling fact that so many books about real lives—biographies, autobiographies, letters, etc.—give one such an impression of happiness, in spite of the tragedies they all contain. What could be more tragic than the main outlines of Lamb's or Cowper's lives? But as soon as you open the letters of either, and see what they were writing from day to day and what a relish they got out of it, you almost begin to envy them. Perhaps the tragedies of real life contain more consolation and fun and gusto than the comedies of literature? (75; Originally published in The Letters of C. S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves [4 December 1932], p. 445)

Thirty years ago today John Piper preached his candidating sermon and gave his personal testimony at Bethlehem Baptist Church.

Needless to say, he got the job; and about half a year later he preached his installation sermon, "The Wisdom of Men and the Power of God."

Now a member of Bethlehem myself, I thank the Lord for this pastor. And I pray, Father, that you would keep him faithful, hopeful, and joyful in his continuing work of preaching a passion "for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Jesus Christ."

Jesus keeps us off balance. We think we know that perfection is a fastball of justice, and he throws us the curveball of grace.

When I read Matthew 5:48 abstracted from it’s context, I’m thinking mainly in terms of justice.

You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

“Perfect,” ah yes, surely that’s mainly about being just. But Jesus’ context gives this charge some wicked spin.

Despite what I would guess in extrapolating from verse 48, with my innate definition of perfection, Matthew 5:38-47 is all about moving beyond mere justice to God-like grace. “Perfection” in God is not merely “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” (verse 38) but turning the other cheek, giving more than is asked, walking the extra mile (verses 39-42).

The just thing would be to love those who love you and hate those who hate you (verse 43), but Jesus disorients us with this strange conception of perfection: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (verse 44).

Who is this guy—and what kind of serious rethinking (call it “new birth”) do we need to get in line with his Father in heaven?

I would think that “perfection” means giving the unrighteous what they deserve: no sunshine, no rain. But Jesus says about his Father, “He makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust” (verse 45).

The kind of perfection that Jesus says comes from his Father—and the kind he calls his disciples to pursue—does not find its sense of completion in delivering retribution for wrongs done. Rather, it is the perfection of a heart that finds so much fulfillment and satisfaction in the God of grace that it is able to extend grace to those who don’t deserve it.

What the Bible teaches keeps us in line with reality. But what the Bible includes keeps us balanced and protects us from ill-advised overstatement.

As he came to Christ C. S. Lewis was learning from J.R.R. Tolkein that Christianity is “true myth.” “It really happened.”

Then he says, “The ‘doctrines’ we get out of the true myth are of course less true: they are translations into our concepts and ideas of that which God has already expressed in language more adequate, namely the actual incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection.”

My Bible awareness triggers a response: “More adequate” for what?

Certainly the events of incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection are “more adequate” to accomplish redemption. These events accomplished my redemption. No concept or idea could do that.

But these events are not “more adequate” for proclaiming the meaning of the events. Events are proclaimed with words. And words only have meaning when put together as concepts or ideas. This is how the apostles proclaimed the events so that people could grasp what happened and embrace the meaning of them and be saved.

For this we need words. Deeds are not adequate to communicate the meaning of deeds.

How do I know this? Why do I react this way to Lewis’ comment? Because the Bible is more than deeds. The Bible is dense with conceptual explanations of what God was doing in the deeds.

I infer from this that God considers the concepts and ideas of the Bible to be essential for grasping God’s purposes in the “true myth.”

I am protected from overstatement and imbalance by knowing what the Bible includes.

I encourage you to measure your favorite authors and your favorite quotes by what the Bible teaches and what the Bible includes.

Two recent events have me thinking about how we as Christians can love our neighbors—one global tragedy everyone knows about and a local tragedy you may not have heard about.

The earthquake in Haiti has caused massive destruction and suffering. The people in Haiti need help, and many thousands are responding. I'm pleased to report that Desiring God has partnered with three organizations, Food for the Hungry, Haiti Rescue Center, and Children's Hunger Fund, to provide some relief to the immediate suffering in the country.

The other event was a recent triple homicide at a Somali market one block from the Desiring God office. The front desk worker, Abdifatah Warfa, his cousin, Mohamed Warfa, who had just stopped in to give Abdifatah some tea, as well as a customer, Anwar Mohammed, were shot to death in a suspected robbery attempt.

A colleague and I went to the candlelight vigil the community held for these men, and I was struck with how little I really knew about these men and the thousands of East African immigrants in my community. I had passed this market dozens of times and never stopped in. Surely, at least once, I could have purchased a Coke and struck up a conversation?

We know that in this world, there will be tragedies and suffering. As Christian Hedonists, we need to stand ready to give an account for the hope and confidence we have in Christ (1 Peter 3:15). But if we never step out to meet others, it's not likely we'll ever have a chance to tell of the hope we have in God.

With these two events in mind, here are some practical things we can do to love our neighbors:

1. If you're able, go. Go to Haiti and serve.
2. Donate to churches and ministries that are working in Haiti.
3. Volunteer in your city. Help immigrants learn English. Babysit a neighbor's kids. Buy a Coke at a local market and get to know the clerk.
4. Be ready to give an account for the hope that you have. As you serve, look for chances to talk about the good news of the Gospel. Ultimately, if we truly love our neighbors, we will care not only for their immediate physical needs, but their spiritual needs as well.

What things are you or your church doing to love your neighbor? Leave a comment and let us know.

Jesus in Haiti
After the Earthquake

Do you consider safety, or your health,
          A sign from me?
I am not awed by might, nor struck by wealth,
          Or poverty.

O, I am struck! And crushed. Buried, I wince,
           And dying, pray,
A sympathetic Priest in Port-au-Prince,
          Even today.

But there, in those United States the boot
          Is on my face.
“Saul, Saul,” I ask, “Why do you persecute
           And not embrace?”

Your King, I lift my arms to you in peace
          And patient grief;
And summon now to Haiti enemies
          For my relief.

We are never more vulnerable to sin than when we are successful, admired by others, and prosperous, as King David tragically discovered.

*               *               *

It was spring again. David once had loved warm, fragrant spring afternoons on the palace roof. But this year the scent of almond blossoms smelled like deep regret. 

David had no desire to look toward Uriah’s empty house. If only he had not looked that way a year ago. The memory throbbed with pain. His conscience had warned him to stop watching Bathsheba. But in his desire-induced inertia it had felt like he couldn’t pull himself away.

What pathetic self-deception! Couldn’t pull himself away. He would never have tolerated such a weak excuse in another man. If Nathan had unexpectedly shown up while he was leering would he have pulled himself away? O yes! Wouldn’t have risked his precious reputation!

But there on the roof alone, he had lingered. And in those minutes, sinful indulgence metastasized into a wicked, ultimately lethal plan.

David wept. His sovereign, lustful selfishness had stripped a married woman of her honor, murdered her loyal, valiant husband, and killed his own innocent baby boy. Bathsheba was now left with a desolate, hollow sadness.

And he shuddered at the Lord’s dark promise: “The sword will never depart from your house”(2 Samuel 12:10). The destruction had not run its full course.

How had he come to this?

David thought back to those harrowing years when Saul chased him around Horesh. How often had he felt desperate? Daily he had depended on God for survival. He had longed for escape and peace in those days. Now he viewed them as among the best of his life.

And then came the tumultuous, heady years of uniting Judah and Israel under his kingship and subduing their enemies. And it had all climaxed with God’s almost unbelievable promise to establish David’s throne forever.

Had a man ever been so blessed by God? Every promise to him had been kept. Everything David touched had flourished. Never had Israel as a nation been so spiritually alive, so politically stable, so wealthy, so militarily powerful.

And at the peak of this unprecedented prosperity, David had committed such heinous sin. Why? How could he have resisted so many temptations in dangerous, difficult days and then yield at the height of success?

Almost as soon as the question formed in his mind he knew the answer. Pride. Monstrous, self-obsessed pride.

Honored by his God, a hero to his people, a terror to his enemies, surrounded by fawning assistants and overflowing affluence, the poisonous weed of self-worship had grown insidiously in David’s heart. The lowly shepherd that God had plucked by sheer grace from Bethlehem’s hills to serve as king had been eclipsed in his own mind by David the Great, the savior of Israel—a man whose exalted status entitled him to special privileges.

David cupped his face in his hands as his shame washed over him again. Bathsheba’s body had been nothing more than a special privilege he had decided to bestow on himself. And in so doing he had placed himself above God, his office, his nation, Uriah’s honor and life, Bathsheba’s welfare—everything. David had sacrificed everything to the idol of himself.

David fell on his face and wept again. And he poured out his broken, contrite heart to God.

But profound hope was woven into the deep remorse David felt. Knowing he deserved death, David marveled at and worshiped God for the unfathomable depths of mercy in the words, “The Lord also has put away your sin; you shall not die” (2 Samuel 12:13). It took his breath away. This word had come before a single sacrifice had been offered.

This was love that surpassed knowledge.  Something miraculous was at work here, something much more powerful than horrific sin.  David wasn’t quite sure how it worked.  What he did know is that he wanted other transgressors to know the amazingly gracious ways of God.

*               *               *

The greatest enemy of our souls is the pathologically selfish pride at the core of our fallen natures. If we look deep enough, this is what we will find feeding the strong, sinful cravings of our appetites.

And this is why prosperity can be so spiritually dangerous. We tend to see our need for God more clearly in adversity. But seasons of success can be our most perilous because we are so easily deceived into thinking more highly of ourselves than we ought to think. Self-exalting pride is what leads us to usurp God’s rightful rule. We must beware this danger that lurks in blessings.

And when we sin, we must run to and not avoid the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). On this side of the cross we now know fully what David didn’t: God put away our sin by placing them on himself. Only at the cross will we hear, “The Lord also has put away your sin; you shall not die.” Ever.

Over at Enjoying God Ministries, Sam Storms, keynote speaker for our upcoming pastors conference, gives some helpful instruction on preaching. 

In the second of three articles in his series An Appeal to All Pastors: Why and How Should We Preach, Sam gives us eight reasons why pastors should be committed to biblical preaching. 

1. We must preach because of the power of the Word of God to change human lives and to transform the experience of the church. 
2. We must preach because preaching is God's ordained means for making himself known to us.
3. We must preach because preaching not only communicates truth about God, it also mediates the very person and power of God.
4. We must preach because preaching (aside from reading) is the most effective means for transmitting the truths of Holy Scripture. 
5. We must preach because preaching is the fuel for worship. Preaching fans the flames of passion for Jesus. 
6. We must preach because preaching is not simply the fuel for worship, preaching is worship.
7. We must preach because preaching is the catalyst for church growth, renewal, and revival.
8. We must preach because preaching is the means by which the glory of God is revealed and imparted to those who listen with faith.

Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 in Sam's series.