Monday, March 29, 2010

An Act of Humility

I stumbled across this more recent, second document concerning John Piper. Posted on March 28, Piper announced his decision to step down from the pastorate at Bethlehem Baptist Church for eight months in order that he might nurture and rekindle his relationships with his wife and family in addition to rooting out the sin of pride in his life. The humility and wisdom it took to step down from such a public platform for these reasons seems so rare in the current Christian church culture of America, and the act has captured my sincere respect.


John Piper's Upcoming Leave
As you may have already heard in the sermon from March 27-28, the elders graciously approved on March 22 a leave of absence that will take me away from Bethlehem from May 1 through December 31, 2010. We thought it might be helpful to put an explanation in a letter to go along with the sermon.

I asked the elders to consider this leave because of a growing sense that my soul, my marriage, my family, and my ministry-pattern need a reality check from the Holy Spirit. On the one hand, I love my Lord, my wife, my five children and their families first and foremost; and I love my work of preaching and writing and leading Bethlehem. I hope the Lord gives me at least five more years as the pastor for preaching and vision at Bethlehem.

But on the other hand, I see several species of pride in my soul that, while they may not rise to the level of disqualifying me for ministry, grieve me, and have taken a toll on my relationship with Noël and others who are dear to me. How do I apologize to you, not for a specific deed, but for ongoing character flaws, and their effects on everybody? I’ll say it now, and no doubt will say it again, I’m sorry. Since I don’t have just one deed to point to, I simply ask for a spirit of forgiveness; and I give you as much assurance as I can that I am not making peace, but war, with my own sins.

Noël and I are rock solid in our commitment to each other, and there is no whiff of unfaithfulness on either side. But, as I told the elders, “rock solid” is not always an emotionally satisfying metaphor, especially to a woman. A rock is not the best image of a woman’s tender companion. In other words, the precious garden of my home needs tending. I want to say to Noël that she is precious to me in a way that, at this point in our 41-year pilgrimage, can be said best by stepping back for a season from virtually all public commitments.

No marriage is an island. For us this is true in two senses. One is that Noël and I are known inside-out by a few friends at Bethlehem—most closely by our long-time colleagues and friends David and Karin Livingston, and then by a cluster of trusted women with Noël and men with me. We are accountable, known, counseled, and prayed for. I am deeply thankful for a gracious culture of transparency and trust among the leadership at Bethlehem.

The other way that our marriage is not an island is that its strengths and defects have consequences for others. No one in the orbit of our family and friends remains unaffected by our flaws. My prayer is that this leave will prove to be healing from the inside of my soul, through Noël’s heart, and out to our children and their families, and beyond to anyone who may have been hurt by my failures.

The difference between this leave and the sabbatical I took four years ago is that I wrote a book on that sabbatical (What Jesus Demands from the World). In 30 years, I have never let go of the passion for public productivity. In this leave, I intend to let go of all of it. No book-writing. No sermon preparation or preaching. No blogging. No Twitter. No articles. No reports. No papers. And no speaking engagements. There is one stateside exception—the weekend devoted to the Desiring God National Conference combined with the inaugural convocation of Bethlehem College and Seminary in October. Noël thought I should keep three international commitments. Our reasoning is that if she could go along, and if we plan it right, these could be very special times of refreshment together.

The elders have appointed a group to stay in touch and keep me accountable for this leave. They are David Mathis, Jon Bloom, Tom Steller, Sam Crabtree, Jon Grano, Tim Held, Tony Campagna, and Kurt Elting-Ballard. Five of these have walked with Noël and me over the last two months, helping us discern the wisdom, scope, and nature of this leave. They brought the final recommendation to the elders on March 22.

I asked the elders not to pay me for this leave. I don’t feel it is owed to me. I know I am causing more work for others, and I apologize to the staff for that. Not only that, others could use similar time away. Most working men and women do not have the freedom to step back like this. The elders did not agree with my request. Noël and I are profoundly grateful for this kind of affection. We will seek the Lord for how much of your financial support to give back to the church, to perhaps bear some of the load.

Personally, I view these months as a kind of relaunch of what I hope will be the most humble, happy, fruitful five years of our 35 years at Bethlehem and 46 years of marriage. Would you pray with me to that end? And would you stand by your church with all your might? May God make these eight months the best Bethlehem has ever known. It would be just like God to do the greatest things when I am not there. “Neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth” (1 Corinthians 3:7).

I love you and promise to pray for you every day.

Pastor John

Monday, March 22, 2010

Same Old Thing

But the greatest triumph of all is to elevate this horror of the Same Old Thing into a philosophy so that nonsense in the intellect may resinforce corruption in the will. It is here that the general Evolutionary or Historical character of modern European thought (partly our work) comes in useful. The Enemy loves platitudes. Of a proposed course of action He wants men, so far as I can see, to ask very simple questions; is it righteous? is it prudent? is it possible? Now if we can keep men asking "Is it in accordance with the general movement of our time? Is it progressive or reactionary? Is this the way that History is going?" they will neglect the relevant questions.
-C.S. Lewis
  The Screwtape Letters, Letter 25

Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Language of Love

“The language of love and the language of seduction are the same. The one who wishes a girl for a wife and the one who wishes her for only a night both say the words, “I love you.” Jesus has told us to discern between the language of seduction and the language of love, and to know the wolves clad in sheepskin from the real sheep.”
–Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ

Christ Gave Thanks

While they were still eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.” Then He took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in My Father’s kingdom.” Mathew 26:26-29

Whether from here or from one of the other gospels, these verses have been familiar to me from a young age. Every week I hear them spoken by the pastor just before communion, and I’ve read them many times as I’ve worked my way through the gospels. In all reality, I’ve nearly memorized them without even thinking about it. However, with that kind of familiarity comes a numbness, a near immunity to the weight of what is said here. It wasn’t until just recently that I caught anew some of the significance as I heard the words read aloud by another speaker.

…Jesus took the bread, gave thanks and broke it…He took the cup, gave thanks and offered it…

Similar passages are found in three other places throughout the New Testament, and all of them say that Jesus took the bread, gave thanks and broke it; that He took the wine, gave thanks, and offered it.

Think about that. Jesus knew this was no ordinary Passover being celebrated in the same way as every other for the past thousand years since the angel of the Lord spared the Israelites because of the blood of the pure lamb. This could not have been your ordinary “come, Lord Jesus, be our guest” prayer of thanksgiving. He knew better than anyone that this celebration was a profound symbol of what He would suffer in just a matter of hours—that the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine meant mangled flesh and shed blood—but He deliberately gave thanks. Why?

As Jesus was hanging on the cross in agony, one of the criminals taunted and insulted Him, but the other spoke to Him in sincerity, saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

Jesus answered Him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with Me in paradise.”

For the salvation of a criminal, He gave thanks.
“Righteous Father, though the world does not know You, I know You, and they know that You have sent Me. I have made You known to them, and will continue to make You known in order that the love You have for Me may be in them and that I Myself may be in them.” (John 17:25-26)
For His own relationship with the Father, He gave thanks.

For His future relationship with us, He gave thanks.
“Here are My mother and brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mark 3)
For His adopted family, He gave thanks.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in Me. In My Father’s house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you also may be where I am.” (John 14:1-3)
Looking forward to eternal fellowship with us, He gave thanks and broke the bread and offered the wine.

Out of love, He gave thanks and, for the joy set before Him, let His flesh be torn and His blood be shed so that He could bring us into eternity.

How much more do we now have to be thankful for?

©2009 Rebekah U.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

"God Needs You"?

I don't know if you've noticed this, but the "Christian" culture of America has become more than a little bit squishy. With the proliferation of movements like the emerging church and the prosperity gospel, the preaching of the sinfulness of man and the perfect holiness of God has been replaced by feel-good messages and catchy phrases. One of the biggest misconceptions I’m hearing is the idea that God needs us. Yes, needs.

It is pure pride speaking when one believes that God needs him to accomplish His good purpose. This way of thinking leads to the calling of oneself to ministry over submitting to God’s call, and it is here that the ministry becomes self-centered instead of Christ-centered.

God does not need you. He never has and He never will. He is God. He alone is God. He created the entire world in the space of six days. He placed the sun in the sky, filled the oceans with water, and hung the stars in place. Photosynthesis was His idea. He shaped each element of each type of cell—the mitochondria, the ribosomes, the endoplasmic reticulum, the Golgi apparatus, and the flagellar motor. He formed each and every plant and creature and designed the intricate systems that allow them to live and interact and sustain life. He destroyed the world with a flood, set the sun back, parted the sea, walked on water, raised the dead, healed the sick, and ultimately defeated death and sin by sacrificing His holy and perfect Son. He doesn’t need you. He can use anyone or anything else. In fact, He’s perfectly capable of doing everything alone. You are a worthless, wretched, filthy sinner and can do nothing on your own. You can’t even save yourself—God has to pull you out of the swamp and purify you. You have to be covered by His blood and his righteousness or else you haven’t even the smallest chance. No, He doesn’t need you. You need Him. Without Him, you are absolutely nothing.

Yes, He may choose to use you—He may even desire to use you—but He never needs to use you.