Pentecostal Preaching, Part 2

Peter stepped into the God-given moment. Through faith in Christ, he and John had healed a lame man who came daily to the temple to beg for alms. The incident caused a great stir and Peter preached to the gathered crowd. While the circumstance of the sermon was different than the first he had preached, the content reflected the same commitments: it was biblically driven, had Christ as its subject, was courageous in its pronouncements, and called for the people listening to be intellectually honest (see previous post). It was solid pentecostal preaching. There is an additional component to pentecostal preaching, however, that shows up in these seminal sermons: the call for repentance.

What is repentance? In the words of one commentator, it’s a “spiritual about face.” This definition is helpful. Peter is bold to point out to his listeners that they had conspired and “denied the Holy and Righteous One . . . and killed the Author of life.” The first thing, therefore, that the crowd needed to repent of was their antipathy toward Jesus. No longer could they regard him as they had. The categories they had placed Jesus in that allowed them to dismiss him as a charlatan had to be renounced. His divine messiahship had been vindicated in the phenomena that were taking place and a “spiritual about face” was called for.

So, added to the characteristics of what constitutes pentecostal preaching is the call for repentance. But it’s important to note the order of repentance that Peter summons. The first thing that anyone needs to do is abandon their condemning conceptions of Christ. This is primary, for it’s only when a person in is union with the “Author of life” that calls for moral reformation make any sense. To repent of moral failures but not be brought into fellowship with Christ accomplishes no eternal good. A cleaned up pagan is in no better position before God than a thoroughly debauched one. What unbelievers need to do is “repent and be baptized . . . in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of [their] sins.” 

Though it might seem self-evident, Christ needs to be kept front and center as we bear witness to him. It’s Jesus that people need to know. Once that is settled, calls to live in a manner that is pleasing to God can follow.

Removing Obstacles to the Gospel

If anyone would know how difficult it is to carry out the missionary enterprise, it would be the Apostle Paul. His efforts met resistance from the onset. This is not to say that he didn't have success at persuading people of their need for Jesus, but it wasn’t an easy sell. More than once he suffered persecution for doing nothing more than preaching the “good news.” Obviously, not everyone found the news good.

People are not readily disposed to being told that, unless they take by faith the gift of Christ’s righteousness, they are destined for hell. Their current belief system, confidence in their own goodness, or any one, or combination, of other such hindrances, make hearing the message about Jesus’ saving work a seemingly insurmountable mountain.

Paul appears to have understood this and made every effort to remove unnecessary impediments to having the gospel heard. We need to take our cue from him. The two most important factors (of many important factors) are the preconceptions of the one we are trying to persuade and our love for that one. The other’s preconceptions will cause them to hear what you are saying through the filter of their current understanding of things. As the gospel presents a very different view of existence than what we naturally come to, if you do not try to anticipate what the other might already be thinking, your words are not likely to be heard. Also, if we have not love for the other, the kind of love that motivated Paul, and caused Jesus to grieve when he looked upon the crowd and saw them as sheep without a shepherd, he or she will detect our disdain. A sure ear stopper!

The missionary enterprise is not an easy one. It must be said, therefore, that it requires the power of the Holy Spirit to attend our bearing witness, certainly in the heart and mind of the other, but also in our own. For, by the grace of God, “we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts” (1 Thessalonians 2:4).

The Miracle of the New Birth

As stated in a previous post, miracles serve (at the very least) two ends: they radically alter the circumstances of those involved, as well as demonstrating that there exists a reality that stands above, or outside, our everyday, natural existence.  Ultimately, it’s the super-reality that miracles point to that is more important for a human being to experience. Recovery of physical sight will not truly profit unless the one healed is able to see the kingdom of God. As we discussed, however, seeing the kingdom of God requires a miracle. Jesus describes it as being born again, or born from above.

Drawing on the apostle Paul’s teaching from Ephesians 2 let’s examine why the new birth is a miracle. First, our condition is helpless. Human beings are “dead in trespasses and sins” and “by nature children of wrath.” We are fatally deaf, dumb, and blind to heavenly realities. Our only hope is a miracle, a divine intervention that opens our understanding. And this is what God does. When we are “dead in [our] trespasses and sins,” he makes us “alive together with Christ.” This regeneration allows us to see and believe. To underscore the miraculous nature of this transformation, we learn that the ability to place faith in Jesus is a “gift of God” that comes to us by “grace.” And true to miracles, our circumstances are radically altered. No longer subjects of “the prince of the power of the air,” we learn that we have been “raised us up with [Christ]” to be “seated with him in the heavenly places.”

By all criteria, the new birth is a miracle. It is God, in love, intervening into our fallen, lost existence to awaken us to our need of his precious gift, the One he gave so that “whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”  May God give all who read this eyes to see.

Practicing Contentment

The Stoics, adherents to an ancient school of Greek philosophy, sought not to be ruled by their emotions. Logic and reason were prized as tools to gain control over circumstances that might lead to anguish of soul. The goal for the stoic was total self-sufficiency as regards the state of his soul, his state of mind not dependent upon external circumstances. Dr. Spock of Star Trek fame might come to mind, as he was “stoic” to the max. Nothing fazed him (technically, he was not really a stoic for he was bereft of emotions, not one seeking to gain control of them, but you get the idea).

The apostle Paul offers a testimony that might sound stoical: “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content” (Philippians 4:11). Respected New Testament scholar F.F. Bruce acknowledges that Paul utilizes a Greek term current in stoic philosophy “to denote the ideal of the totally self-sufficient person,” and he “uses it to express his independence of external circumstances.” But far from self-sufficient independence, Paul was “constantly conscious of his total dependence on God.” Bruce states that Paul was not so much “self-sufficient as ‘God-sufficient.’” This was the “secret” that he had learned that allowed him to face “plenty and hunger, abundance and need” with contentment.

What Paul confessed was that his life had been taken over by a gracious, loving, merciful, and all-wise God. This meant that in whatever circumstance he found himself it was not unknown to God. In truth, he lived with a confidence that “for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). The challenge, therefore, was to respond to each circumstance, whether it was one in which he “abounded” or one in which he was “brought low,” (both present unique challenges to the one who would live a God-honoring life) with an equanimity of soul that reflected the promise of Jesus that his “grace [would be] sufficient” for him (Cf. 2 Corinthians 12:9).

Paul’s capacity for contentment was grounded in the promises given to him and bolstered by his experience of Christ keeping his promises. The assurances offered to the apostle, however, are not unique to him. The only component for contentment that might be lacking in us is our hesitancy to prove Christ true to his word. Can we pursue contentment -- a God-sufficient independence of circumstances -- trusting that the one who has called us to himself will “never leave us nor forsake us,” and that his grace will prove ample enough for the particular challenge? It’s a goal worth pursuing.

The Absurdity of the Gospel

Naaman was a powerful man. His king held him in high regard for he had won wars for Syria (see 2 Kings 5). But Naaman was also a sick man. He was a leper and nothing he tried had cured him. As the story unfolds, however, we learn that Naaman’s disease was not his real problem. When a new solution, one that would actually cure him, was offered, he responded according to a set of presuppositions that deafened him to the saving word of God. Tellingly, everything about the prophet Elisha’s plan seemed absurd to the powerful Naaman.

Such is always the case when the word of God comes. The message sounds ridiculous and we respond not with gratitude, but with offense. This is because the word of God is “of a different order,” to use Jacques Ellul’s language. The Greek philosophers in Athens mocked Paul’s preaching as nonsense, while his Jewish hearers thought it blasphemous. Why? As the apostle Paul teaches, the “foolishness” of God is wiser than human wisdom, and we cannot comprehend that the word of God could be true.

This is not just a problem for unregenerate Jews and Greeks (or Syrians, for that matter). We Christians have a problem in accepting the good news as it has been proclaimed. Paul had experienced this first hand when he witnessed the influence of the “judaizers.” These were people within the pale of Christianity who could not really grasp the gospel in all its richness. The redemptive covenant that God had cut in Christ was for those who came into it by faith, whether Jew or Gentile. But for the judaizers, Gentiles had to first become Jews, symbolized by being circumcised. Paul condemned such an expectation in the strongest terms (see Philippians 3:2-3; Galatians 1:6-9). For it is by “grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

It’s likely that none of you reading this would assert that one needs to be circumcised to be in good standing with God. However, you might be offering other tokens for God’s approval: your hard work in the church, your eschewing of “worldly” pleasures, your diligent devotional practices. Such pious credentials cannot -- must not -- substitute for standing in the grace of God by faith. If such approval seeking does find its way into your thinking, pray that you have ears to hear and embrace the absurdity of the gospel. It has the power to free you from every attempt to improve on the plan that God has revealed in his gracious word.

Willing Obedience

Obedience is ________ .

How do you fill in the blank? Difficult? Necessary? Detestable? How about enjoyable? Given our innate rebelliousness, ‘joyful’ does not likely spring to mind. We have a hard time with obedience. There’s something deep within us that does not like being told what to do, at least without an avenue of appeal.

On the one hand, the inclination to disobey can be a good thing. It helps people resist the despotic behavior of power hungry men. Shiphrah and Puah, for example, two Hebrew midwives who ignored Pharaoh’s murderous orders are rewarded by God for their disobedience (Exodus 1:15-21). And the underground resistance movements of World War 2 did much to undermine Nazi Germany’s efforts to subjugate the continent. Not obeying can be good when what is being required is immoral.

But our relationship with God’s authority is another matter. He has set the terms of our existence and it is the case that there is no avenue of appeal when it comes to God’s laws. But unlike the self-promoting and self-protecting laws of tyrants, his are given out of love. In fact, his call to obedience is a call to joy. He knows what we were made for and how we can best experience the fullness of our humanity. So, why do human beings have such a problem with yielding to God’s rule? It’s the innate rebelliousness alluded to above. Even when blessing is promised for obedience and punishment for disobedience, we are unwilling to obey.

The situation changes, however, when, by faith, we are brought into union with Christ. Our lack of obedience has been filled up with Christ’s obedience and we possess a new relationship with God. Now, the fruit of salvation is ours for the harvesting. As a bonus, we are not on our own to pursue the expected obedience. We are told that God is at work in us changing our desires to conform to his desires and supplying the power we need to walk in his will. As Paul exhorts his beloved friends in Philippi: “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (2:12-13). Perhaps this is part of what delights Paul when at the very beginning of his letter he writes,  “I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now” (1:3-5). He knows the joy that’s in store for them as they pursue the will of God together. 

Obedience is ________. How do you fill in the blank? By God's grace you can say, 'joyful.'

A Paradoxical People

A church is a paradox; a paradox made up of paradoxical people. It is an entity that is at once infinitely indestructible and incredibly fragile. It is strong because an infinitely strong God has brought it into being and is at work in it. It is weak because it is made up of people who are subject to the maladies that attend universal sin. Possessing no inherent power to do what God wants us to do, we must look to God’s power and grace.

That being said, the weakness that can often hobble a church is not to be accommodated. Paul’s letters are full of exhortations that, in one way or the other, enjoin us to walk away from the old self and toward the new. The old “belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires,” while the new is “created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-23). In the opening sentences of his letter to the Philippians he puts it this way: “it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God” (Philippians 1:9-11).

As his letters readily attest, the local church is the venue in which much of this growth is to take place. For instance, the above prayer ties the ability to approve what is excellent, which leads to a maturing walk “filled with the fruit of righteousness,” to ever-increasing love among the saints at Philippi. Why is this so? If those in a church can discover what it means to love, idolatrous self-interest will give way to God honoring interest for the other. We then begin to look like Jesus who “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant” so that we could be saved from our sinful, self-absorbed selves (2:7).

Remarkably, Paul is confident that this will be realized in the church in Philippi because “he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (1:6). But it involves embracing the challenge to “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling” (2:12). It seems that if we will respond with faith, seeking to “approve what is excellent,” we can become a little less paradoxical, possessing a strength that will be “to the glory and praise of God” (1:11).

True Justice, True Obedience, True Repentance

The second of two foolish and fatal decisions by King Saul brought a severe consequence. While the first was the loss of a royal dynasty, the second -- the loss of the throne itself.

Saul had been charged by God to carry out divine justice against the Amelekites, who had acted cruelly toward the Israelites as they came up from Egypt. Saul’s obedience to the command, however, was incomplete. As a result, God instructed Samuel to go to Saul and tell him that he was no longer fit to rule over God’s people. The exchange between Saul and Samuel is one of the most pitiful in Scripture. Rather than offering true repentance, Saul offered excuse piled on top of excuse. Saul’s heart proved to be, as the law had warned, “lifted up above his brothers” (Deuteronomy 17:20).

The punishment meted out against the Amelekites and their king, Agag, is a true picture of what we would be subject to apart from the love of God that placed his own Son between his wrath and us. Yet, somehow Saul thought better of God’s sentence of utter destruction against the sinner. Saul’s failure to recognize the grace that had been extended to him and the condemnation that followed this self-delusion offers a warning against such presumption. We have what we have only by the grace of God. The only appropriate response in the light of God’s mercy is to present our bodies “a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” And rather than offering pious sounding religious intentions, as did Saul, we need to see that true obedience to God’s will is what constitutes our “spiritual worship” (Romans 12:1).