The season leading to Christmas is a wonderful time to draw attention some of the all-too-familiar lyrics of some Christmas carols. Some of the best Christmas carols not only speak of Jesus as the child in the manger, but also the gospel reason for why the Christ had to come—the presence of sin that cannot be satisfied but through the peace that comes from the blood of the cross. Jesus did not come to be a sweet child but as the Word made flesh, the bruised and broken sacrifice, the conqueror of death by death, and the ascended Lord at the right hand of the Father.
In this age, the Church is perennially confronted with the challenge of maintaining a kingdom identity in the midst of a fallen world. How do we live as “foreigners and exiles” (1 Pet. 2:11) while remaining in our culture so that we can bear witness to the gospel? How do we “shine among them like stars in the sky” (Php. 2:15) without being corrupted by a pagan society? The fundamental answer of Scripture, seen in these passages and elsewhere, is a firm call to Christian ethics. We must live by the Holy Ghost, not the zeitgeist.
Samuel McPheeters and His Commitment to Neutrality
It was 1862, two days after Christmas. The American Civil War was still raging, when Samuel Brown McPheeters, Presbyterian pastor of the largest church in St. Louis, Missouri, met with President Lincoln to present his plea.
Christians are frequently reminded to “remember the reason for Christmas,” meaning, of course, that we should turn our attention away from the cultural trappings and to the fact that Jesus was born to Mary in Bethlehem. But this Christmas, perhaps we should fix our attention a little more closely, not just on the details of Jesus’ birth, but on the miracle of the incarnation. In so doing, we join a great cloud of Christian witnesses, who have reflected deeply on this glorious mystery.
Too often the idea of ‘good works’ has been the Cinderella of Reformed discussion. Wanting (quite rightly) to distance ourselves from any kind of meritorious implications attached to them (which lies at the heart of the Roman Catholic view) we have perhaps over-corrected our stance to our own loss. According to St Paul, ‘good works’ lie at the very heart of God’s purpose for his people in redemption. ‘For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them’ (Eph 2.10).
There seems to be a never-ending market in Christian circles for books on guidance. The reason for this, of course, is that we as Christians (like all other human beings) want to make right decisions and choices in life. We want to avoid mistakes – especially when they often run the risk of major and, at times, disastrous consequences.
As heirs of the Reformation, we rightly champion salvation by grace alone. If God was not gracious to us we would have no hope. The simplest definition of grace is: favor extended where wrath is deserved. Others have made the definition in the form of an acronym:
Grace is a present position of every believer in the Lord Jesus Christ.
The opening chapter of Matthew’s Gospel is, for some, like watching paint dry on a wall! Genealogies are not everyone’s thing. But this genealogy ought to be. It’s obviously the genealogy of Jesus. Yet, not so obvious is the Davidic background of the genealogy. David alone is mentioned five times! However, something a bit arcane but no less valid is the fact that David’s name has three Hebrew letters and adds up to a numerical value of fourteen. Strikingly, the genealogy has three main sections each having fourteen descendants. Da
Banner of Truth: A Conversation with Mark Johnston
From Shadow to Substance
What is Federal Theology? Sam Renihan joins our hosts to address this very question. Sam is a pastor at Trinity Reformed Baptist Church in La Mirada, CA and author of From Shadow to Substance: the Federal Theology of the English Particular Baptists.
A while back, I published a relatively critical review of Crawford Gribben’s biography on John Owen. Gribben’s Owen was initially jarring to me. In my previous assessment of his work, I noted that the book was a mixture of “scholarly brilliance and conjecture.” I also noted, “Gribben’s work makes a gripping and interesting narrative.” However, the impression of that review leaned more in the direction of highlighting perceived conjectures than scholarly brilliance.
“And he said, Nay; but I will die here.”— 1 Kings 2:30
In his sermon on the above text, Charles Spurgeon (1834–1892) points out that participation in outward Church activities and ordinances cannot save, no more than Joab was saved by clinging to the temple altar. But Spurgeon then turns to discuss the spiritual altar of Christ's sacrifice, where we find utter security and life imperishable: