New Thoughts (5/26/03-5/30/03)
Calvin writes that there three foundational requirements given in this short verse which the teacher must fulfill to qualify as a teacher. First and foremost, he must have been well instructed himself. He must be absolutely clear on matters of doctrine. This almost calls for a pedigree amongst teachers. When evaluating one who would teach us, we need also to consider who his teacher was, and so on. Thus, in determining the soundness of a man's doctrine, we have a much greater view of that doctrine than might be seen in the man himself. Of course, this is not necessarily an assurance of his beliefs. Many continue on in churches whose beliefs they are not fully aligned with. Yet the teaching under which they have sat cannot help but have its impact. Whether consciously acceded to or not, the ministry from which they come will flavor the ministry which they deliver.
Why such concern over this matter? I think the fundamental reason for concern is that doctrine is not, or at least should not be, a matter of following trends and seeking to be relevant. In much of the Church today, this has become the guiding spirit. This is the seeker friendly movement. This is the mega-church movement. This is many movements, but are any of them God's movements? Truth does not change. Truth does not really need massaging to be made more palatable to the people. God's perfect word does not really require our help to become relevant again. Truth is always relevant. It is not always pleasant to hear. It is not always 'seeker friendly,' most because what the seeker is seeking is not really the truth, but simply consolation. The numbers swell in the absence of any real challenge. Where we are not forced to look at ourselves, we can sit comfortably, but I would point out that the prophets of old were rarely received with joyful anticipation. There was anticipation, to be sure, but it was an anticipation of dread, knowing that once more, these holy men would force us to look full in the face of the true state of our souls. The call to holiness is not likely to be heard with rejoicing by those still lost in sin. Yet, if it isn't heard, what hope remains to them? How shall they be freed, if their eyes are never opened to the prison walls around them? A message that it's ok, God doesn't really mind all that, really won't help them. It will condemn them.
If we would serve God and man by our teaching, we must recognize that doctrine, being a reflection of Truth, is not something to be accommodated to our hearers. Our delivery of that doctrine must certainly be adjusted to the audience. Even Paul was careful to tune his message to its best effect. Yet, the message did not change. There was one and only one message of the gracious gift of salvation by faith through the atoning work of Christ Jesus, our Lord. There remains only that one message to deliver. It must be delivered in infinite variety so that the simple of heart can comprehend it, and so that the intellectual can wrap his reason around it and find it a pearl of unparalleled wisdom. It must be delivered so that the best of men can see in its Truth the sinfulness of his ways and repent. It must be delivered so that the worst of men can see in its Truth the hope of God's mercy and forgiveness, and repent. The Truth is always relevant, we needn't fear that it isn't, and we must never accept the lying voices that would tell us it isn't.
Calvin continues on by saying that the teacher must be of unwavering courage in matters of doctrine. He must be strong to hold to the confession of Truth. How should we take this? It is clear to me that bull-headedness is not a character trait God seeks in His children. This is not a stubborn refusal to hear what any other has to say. Such a thing could not be condoned. However, it is a twofold call. In its first sense, this unwavering nature of the teacher is a reflection of that solid instruction that fulfilled the first requirement of office. Solid instruction, when applied to the solid Truth of Scripture, leads to solid conviction with regard to truth. Our spirit acknowledges such truth. Our feelings and emotions confirm such truth. Our reason finds the perfection of such truth pleasing and wonderful to behold. Our experiences bear out the truth of such truth, confirming all we think and feel in regard to the truth of the Gospel. In short, every foothold of doubt is removed. That is the effect solid doctrinal instruction can and should have upon us, and that is the effect we should hope to have in our own endeavors of teaching.
There's another aspect of this steadfastness we are to have. Notice, he says they are strong to hold to the 'confession of Truth.' Not only must we be solidly convinced of the truth of Truth, we must also be unashamed of our convictions. There is no place in this for the shy and retiring. There can be nothing apologetic about the work of the apologist. Conviction must be bold. If this is Truth, and we have been blessed to know it, surely we must rejoice in knowing that! Surely, knowing Truth to be true, we must be well-pleased to announce the Truth to those around us without fear of their reaction!
Now, one last matter, when it comes to holding fast the confession of truth. This cannot be a matter of word and teaching alone. It cannot be a confession to which the mind accedes in isolation. The steadfastness of doctrine to which the teacher must lay claim must itself lay claim of his very life. It's all well and good to teach about matters of Gospel truth, but if the teacher's life is not a living reflection of the truth he teaches, his students will fail to heed his words. How shall they accept word of God's power to change a life when the life which speaks the word to them is unchanged?
In a recent class at our church, the teacher declared that doctrine is not what we say, but what we do. I think, in view of this passage, I must disagree. What we believe, really believe, will show more certainly in our actions than in our words; this is true. Our speech is spent in large part in trying to convince others of the image we'd prefer they had of us, the image we wish we could believe in ourselves. But our actions speak the truth about us far more often. In this respect, then, I can accept what our teacher said. However, what we believe is not necessarily the doctrine of Truth. If doctrine is true, then doctrine is what it says. If what our minds hold to is indeed sound doctrine, then the fact that our flesh fails to fall into line with belief does not in any way change the soundness of the doctrine. It merely reflects the undsoundness of the flesh, which was never in debate anyways.
Finally, and seemingly most obviously, Calvin points out that the teacher must be able to teach. But it's more than that. He must be able to teach in a way which edifies. Like Paul, he must be able to tune his message to best effect. He must also be able to focus his teaching in such a way that his own curiosities and imaginations are not allowed to creep in. Only that which promotes the godliness God seeks in His family, and serves the purposes of His kingdom should be found in the teacher's lessons. There is a time and a place for curiosity and imagination. The teacher devoid of these things is likely to be rather ineffectual. However, the place for those things to be pursued is not in the pulpit but in his times of personal study. The place for these things is in the presence of the Holy Spirit, allowing Him to guide the turnings of our thoughts to their proper conclusion. Only after that curiosity has been satisfied with bedrock truth, only when imagination has been confirmed in the revealed word of God, only then can the resulting understandings be brought into the lesson taught; and that, only as the Spirit who is our teacher allows.
The faithful word is in accordance with the teaching. From this, we are to understand that the source God has given us for sound doctrine - faithful words - is the teaching of the apostles. As we have been learning in our class on the history of the Bible, one of the main criteria for inclusion of a text in the New Testament was this clear traceability back to an apostolic source. Today, we obviously don't have the apostles here to teach us directly. What we do have is the written record of their doctrine in Scripture. In establishing our own beliefs, this must be our final arbiter.
There is a significance in this statement that the faithful word is in accordance with the teaching which might evade us in the simple phrase 'in accordance with.' This phrase translates a very common word in the Greek, 'kata.' There are two particular shades of meaning to this word that I'd like to consider in conjunction with our subject of doctrine. First, kata indicates in all its usages a motion from a higher to a lower place. Here, you might think of it as sound doctrine comes down from the heights of apostolic teachings. It is, in this sense, a delegated authority of sorts. The apostolic teaching depends from the highest authority, God's own teaching, given in the words of Christ, God in the flesh. He has sovereignly delegated this authority to the apostles. Their teaching, being fully based upon His own, carries His authority. They speak on His own authority. What they teach is to be received as if He Himself taught it. The pastors of the local church are next in this chain of authority. They must recognize the authority of the apostles and the authoritative quality of their teachings. What they teach, as delegates of this authority, must be the same as what they are taught. The pulpit is not the place for creative messages really. The message can be delivered artfully, but the message itself is as plain and simple as it always has been: man sins, God saves. There is a Redeemer, and Advocate who speaks on our behalf.
The other aspect of this word I would consider is this: 'kata' also speaks of being so fully joined to one thing as to be separated from another thing. In this case, our doctrine should be so fully joined to the apostolic teaching, to the record of Scripture, that it is separated from every form of man-made beliefs. In the immediate context of Titus' situation, this is particularly significant. We learn shortly that one of the biggest issues he faced in this foundling church was the issue of Judaization. Christianity was, after all, born out of the Jewish faith, and there were those who still saw it as no more than one more sect amongst the many that made up Jewish faith at that time. Thus, there was great pressure from the Jews to correct the perceived excesses of this new sect, to bring it back into line with what was the conservative thought of the day. This consisted of attempts to bring the Rabbinical practices which Jesus labored to correct back into play. It was an attempt to curb the liberty that Jesus had purchased for the Church. It was a setting aside of God's teaching in favor of man's. This was not to be accepted. The separation from this man-made doctrine must be complete. The only way to maintain that complete separation was to be fully joined with the doctrines revealed to and through the apostles, the doctrine which came from Christ Himself.
This remains just as true for us today. It is inherent in man that he seeks ways to display holiness. It is inevitable that a man, thinking he has found such a means to holiness, will insist that all others seeking holiness must pursue the same means. The course laid out for us by Christ seems insufficient to the senses. Surely, there must be some act we must perform? Surely, there is something we must do to show ourselves worthy of salvation? So the mind creates works for us, and we labor at them. Yet this labor is in vain. If there is to be salvation, it will be in accord with God's methodology of faith. It will be so joined to that godly method that it will be separated from all attempts to work our way in. Whatever demands we may devise for ourselves, whatever demands others may attempt to place upon us, we must be vigilant to test against the doctrine of Scripture. If these demands are not supported by the word of God, they can and should be rejected.
What does Scripture demand? It demands belief. It demands a faith in God's work that only God's work can create in us. It demands only that we do justice - treat our fellow men fairly, as we would want to be treated ourselves, to love kindness - rejoicing in the mercy of God, and being equally merciful in our own actions, and to walk humbly with our God - recognizing our absolute and complete dependence upon Him for all that we are, all that we do, and all that will be ours in eternity (Micah 6:8). This last is the key to maintaining the former two requirements. If we truly recognize our dependence on Him, then behaving in ways that please Him and reflect His own ways will be our natural reaction. If we truly recognize that everything is in His hands, we will stop trying to take things into our own hands. We will be so joined to Him as to be fully separated from this world.
The teacher, the Christian in general really, must hold fast to the faithful word. They must keep faith. However, this keeping of faith must be more than an acknowledgement of God's truth. Faith does more than accept God's words as accurate. Real faith, like real worship, must involve the whole man - not just the mind, but the heart, the soul, and the body as well. At the same time, we must be certain that faith does not exclude the mind. Faith is a matter of being convinced, and how are we convinced except in our thinking upon a matter? Faith must also have its proper object. Having faith in just anything will not suffice. It is possible to be fully convinced of a truth which is, in fact, a lie. It is possible to be so fully convinced that this lie is true, that we will devote all our energies, all our affections, all our activities to its pursuit. Yet, all this effort will be to no avail if the underlying reason is false.
We must keep faith, and we must keep faith in that which alone is assuredly true - the very revealed word of God. In 1Timothy 1:19, Paul points out that this keeping of faith requires also a keeping of good conscience. If we believe, but to our own condemnation; if we believe, but do nothing about what the truth declares of us, then we are of one camp with the demons, who know the truth and tremble, for the truth declares their sure destruction. If faith is not joined with concerted effort to obey what faith demands, then faith is in vain. Paul tells us that those who have failed to make this connection have 'suffered shipwreck in regard to their faith.' What has happened here? Has God's work in them failed? Has God's work in them truly started? This is one of the great and difficult questions of Christianity. It's the whole matter of permanent election all over again.
If we are to hold that God's election, as an eternal decree, cannot be subject to failure, else God is subject to failure, no longer perfect, and therefore no longer God; if we hold to these things, this verse must be confronted, and understanding sought. Some of the translations focus what has been wrecked on 'the' faith, others on 'their' faith. What seems reasonably clear is that, as we have said, faith - conviction of the truth of a matter - must lead to a directing of action into the paths the truth indicates. Such faith must inform the conscience, and to then ignore the dictates of conscience is to deny the very truth we claim to believe. When those belief claims have to do with God, what does it say of us that we can so easily set aside the dictates of belief, and pursue a course wholly in opposition to what we claim to know as truth? If our belief is truly that these things are a declaration of God's own will for us, how can we then claim to hold belief, and yet in our actions oppose that very will? It would seem that a continuous pattern of such behavior must indicate that what we have claimed to believe is not what we really believe.
"Doctrine is what you do, not what you say," one of my teachers has said. "I will show you my faith by my works," is pretty much what James said on the subject. Faith that doesn't lead to action is dead. It is not real faith, but a cheep imitation, it is the form without the power. Again, we must ask in this case, was the thing wrecked in such a one the real thing? Was it really saving faith, if it did not save? I would have to say that the lack of effort at maintaining a clear conscience, a lifestyle aligned with the truth we claim to believe, must indicate that our belief is no more than a matter of convenience. We see some gain in claiming belief, whether social status, power, or profit; something has motivated us to claim belief, but it wasn't the Holy Spirit. We may even have our minds convinced of the beliefs we claim. But not the heart and soul. Only the Holy Spirit can bring conviction there, and where He has not sovereignly chosen to do so, faith is no more than a mental acknowledgment. It is not the saving faith of the Gospel, but an intellectual curiosity satisfied. Indeed, such faith must suffer shipwreck in the end. It is not real, and in spite of every effort of man, such imitation faith will be shown for what it is.
Mental acceptance will not hold us steadfast through the storms. Mental acceptance will give way under challenge. It may hold for awhile, but in the end, it will fail. Faith, to be saving faith, must have the Rock. Faith must involve the whole man, in every respect. It must so inform his life that everything about him is directed by what has laid hold of his mind, his emotions, his allegiance. That kind of faith will necessarily be active. It will be displayed in every act and word of the man who holds it. Where faith is sound, the conscience will be clear. Is this to suggest that the faithful man will be perfect in holding to the dictates of his faith? Far from it. If this were so, what need for Christ? No, he will not be perfectly faithful. No man is. But, where he has failed, his faith will inform him not only of his mistake, but of the remedy. His faith is on the Rock, and the Rock has already dealt with the redemptive act that he needs in his failure. Christ has cleared the way for him to be restored quickly to good graces, and this he knows very well. He knows it well enough to avail himself of that remedy immediately as there is need, and he knows it well enough not to abuse that privilege. He knows the love of the Father, and he also knows the regal holiness of the Father. As such, his respect for the Father remains a rein upon his liberty in the Father's presence. He will act with proper respect, yet he will know himself free to come before the throne of God at every moment. Such faith will keep the conscience clear, whether by obedience, or by moving quickly to seek the forgiveness that is so freely given in the face of failure acknowledged. This constant experience of the Father's lovingkindness reinforces what faith knows. It builds faith as surely as our hearing of the Word with ears opened by God.
Faith knows that whatever comes, God is near. Faith knows this, because faith knows what God has declared to us, faith knows who God is, insofar as a man can know who God is. We learn this from the very example of Christ. Considering the cross that night in the garden, He cried out, "Abba! Father! All things are possible for You. Take this cup from Me! Yet, not my will, but Yours be done" (Mk 14:36). This is echoed in Paul's writing as the privilege of every Christian. In Galatians 4:6, he writes that because we, too, are sons of God, He has sent His Son's Spirit into our hearts, crying "Abba! Father!" Further, in Romans 8:15 he speaks of this same matter, reminding us that we are no longer under a spirit of slavery, but as sons, we have received a spirit of adoption, enabling us to cry out, "Abba! Father!"
Notice this: the spirit of adoption in us is the Spirit of God's only Son, Jesus Christ, which is, itself, the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit. As the Holy Spirit is the third person of the Trinity, He is fully God, and the fullness of the Godhead dwells in Him, even as it does in Christ, and even as it does in the Father. The triune God is never less than whole. Notice, also, that the Holy Spirit speaks to us in the words of Christ, in the words of Scripture. He confirms to us what has already been revealed. He does not lead us down paths of novelty, but turns us ever towards the ancient way, the only way.
Finally, I would have us note the heart of the original declaration of Jesus. It is important that we understand the fullness of His cry to God, for it is this cry which echoes in our own spirit, and this cry which must echo in our lives. Indeed, like our brother Jesus, we are able to cry out to God in the most personal of terms: 'Abba! Daddy!' He is not some impersonal entity, so remote from our existence that He neither hears nor responds to us. He is not some mindless universe, as some would suppose. He has not abandoned His creation as the deistic view would hold. No, He remains personally, intimately involved with His creation. His children remain of greatest concern to Him, and like any doting Father, His attention is ever upon their welfare.
Jesus' cry continues, though. He makes His desires known. He does not demand His own way, but He makes clear His preferences. 'Any other way, Father! Surely, You could find another way.' But, even in this, the truth of God is made manifest. Faith shouts out even in the midst of agony, and says, 'all things are possible for You.' That is the message of the heart that knows God. It knows that He is able to do whatever He would. It knows its own privilege in coming before this all-powerful God in petition. It knows that when it comes before Him, it comes not as a stranger to His courts, but as a beloved member of the family.
Yet, we must always - though we know Him as Daddy - remember that He is also King of all kings. Our Daddy is a very important man. Our Father is worthy not only of all our love, but of all our respect. He alone is able to do what He wills to do without question, and without possibility of failure. He also is the only One whose plans are laid with perfect understanding. What He wills must necessarily be the best possible thing in every circumstance. We are imperfect in our understanding, and our plans are ever subject to error and failure. This is no different when we pray. We must, in the end, submit ourselves. Our desires and preferences having been declared to Him, we must submit to the will of the King. "Nevertheless, not my will, but Yours." The heart that knows God, the faith that holds to the truth of Scripture, cannot do otherwise.
Jesus did not dare to presume upon His Father. He came boldly and with confidence, but He came also with respect and submission. Was His prayer any less earnest for leaving God an escape clause? Some amongst the faith movement would tell us our faith was weak, for having closed our prayers with similar sentiment. They would have us go boldly into the throneroom of God and demand our satisfaction. Can they really be so blind? Can they not see that the heart that knows and loves God cannot be satisfied, except by the doing of His will? Christianity declares God not only to be Father and Brother, but to be Lord and King. Surely, we have not lost sight of the fact that a king's will is law to his subjects! Paul declared himself a bondservant of Christ. Will the slave, then, insist on his own way with the master? At his own peril, surely!
The prayer of presumption, the prayer that insists on they prayer's will, is a most dangerous prayer. It is a declaration that the one praying knows better than the One to whom he prays. It is a declaration that we don't really believe that God is perfect in knowledge, wisdom, and power. It is a confession of non-faith. We aren't convinced. We don't believe. Therefore, we feel it necessary to help God out. Woe to us when such prayers are answered! To have answer to such a prayer is to know oneself abandoned by the God of all comfort.
The prayer of faith knows that God is better at these things than we are. If He isn't, why pray to Him? We'd be better off doing it ourselves, since we are obviously wiser than He, and better able to see things get done the way we wanted. The prayer of faith would never accept this. The prayer of faith knows that God can do whatever He wills, and it knows that whatever He wills - since He is a good God - will be perfectly good. It will be the best that could possibly be done. If His will brings us pain, it also brings us hope. God's will for Christ was the cross. It wasn't all milk and honey. His will brought unimaginable pain to Christ, even in its contemplation. Just knowing what was to come, we are told He sweat blood. Yet He knew. He knew that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, and who labor in accord with His purposes. Though pain must come, the good that would come of that pain was worth it all.
The prayer of faith, then, must ever be, "whatever comes, I know You. I know Your love, I know Your wisdom, and I know Your word. Your word says that You will never leave me, nor forsake me. So, I know that whatever is happening, whatever hurts I may be suffering at present, yet You are near to me, yet You are holding me and guiding me. Though there may be sorrow in the day at hand, there will be joy unspeakable because of that sorrow. Whatever comes, then, Lord, comes from Your hands. Whatever comes, You are near. Whatever comes, Lord, hold me close, and it is well with my soul."
