Columns

As we bring this short series on the Whole Gospel in the Songs of Christmas (see part 1 and part 2) to an end, the following are a few more carols and songs with often overlooked verses or Gospel imagery.

Without doubt, the Minor Prophets are the books in the Bible that frighten us the most. So many visions, so many details, so many things seem so unclear. Many Christians never brave these books. This, however, is a great tragedy. The Minor Prophets--though in many places hard to understand--provide us with some of the richest glimpses of the Gospel in the Old Testament.

Theodulf of Orleans – Poet and Theologian in the Carolingian Court

            Theodulf belonged to the group of bright minds Charlemagne gathered at his court in order to boost education in his empire. Born in a Visigothic family, probably in Spain, around the year 750, he is named after the French city where he became bishop, Orleans.

Mikael Agricola and the Reformation in Finland

            Like Primoz Trubar in Slovenia, Mikael Agricola was a Protestant reformer who had to develop a language before he could spread the gospel.

One summer, a family man (and personal friend) traveled to Paris, where he spent a morning enjoying Luxembourg Gardens. In time, he noticed a group of mothers who, he realized, were so engrossed in their conversation that they tilted toward neglect of their children. He watched as one child wandered ever farther from her mother in the crowded park. Not yet two, she began to follow a family, apparently thinking its mother was her mother. When the group crossed a street and hurried onward, the child was finally quite alone.

     In recent years, it seems increasingly rare to hear believers say, “I grew up in a happy home and we had everything we needed.” I almost never hear anyone say “I am making progress as a disciple,” although healthy believers should keep growing (below). The unfettered gratitude we hear in Psalm 16:6 has gone missing: “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.” It has become difficult, even fraught, to say “My life is good,” in public at least.

Last week, I entitled my column, “How to Wreck a Church.”  In my mind, the false teachers in Jude had (and have) the potential to do just that.  They come in secretly; they flatter; they are immoral and follow their own desires; ultimately, they will be destroyed by God.  But when we step back and look at Jude’s letter as a whole, we see that everything in the letter – including the description of the church-wreckers – is written in the service of one major theme.  It all fa

As I look back on my days at seminary, I can see some courses which were more helpful than others.  This is probably due to a combination of factors: my own interests and aptitude; the strength of the teacher; the subject matter itself.  Most classes were valuable, but a few classes were forgettable.

Humans have been fascinated by themselves since the earliest times in the history of our race. From the crude stick figures painted on the walls of caves in prehistoric times through to the sophisticated image of Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, or the mathematical musings around the Fibonacci sequence in the beauty and balance of the human form, there has been a never-ending search for the perfect paradigm for humanity.

I heard a comment recently from one of the young men in our church that gave me pause for thought. He said, ‘I don’t think I have ever heard a sermon about assurance.’ My initial reaction was to frantically cast my mind back over the last 40 years trying to remember if I myself had ever addressed the subject (thankfully I have), but then I began to wonder why this vital topic has apparently been neglected both in the pulpit and in Christian literature in more recent times.

The third of the Ten Commandments seems simple at first read: we are not to take God’s name in vain. But the more we think about it, the deeper our reflections will become on what it means to honor God and cherish His name above all else. The commandment reads:

You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.

There’s something of a progression when one moves from the first commandment  – “You shall have no other gods before me” – to the second commandment forbidding the making and worship of idols. It’s a move delineating how the one true God is to be worshipped. And it tells us something about God. Namely, that the Creator God is a spirit, invisible, infinite, and holy. In other words, there’s an unholy absurdity in making a finite representation of an infinite and immense God.

The full commandment, promises and all, reads thus:

All Things for Good

 James and Jonathan remove the dust from the cover of a classic book that’s played a big role in their lives. All Things for Good, formerly known as A Divine Cordial by Thomas Watson was originally published in 1663, and it reads as a series of sermons or expositions of Romans 8:28. Throughout the book, Watson offers reflections on the two greatest difficulties he faced in pastoral ministry: To make the wicked sad and the godly joyful.

In light of Matt Foreman's insightful article, it seems appropriate to look at some practical advice from The Beatitudes by Thomas Watson.[1] Here's what Watson had to say about becoming a peacemaker:


How shall we attain to peaceableness?

When I began to study the doctrine of good works in the Reformed tradition many years ago, I was astounded by a view that many Puritans, following in the footsteps of John Calvin, promulgated. These Reformed stalwarts taught that God graciously rewards eternal life to his people who persevere in good works to the end.