Sep

02

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:19 am CT

A Quibble With Spurgeon

I don’t read many books more than once. I read even fewer more than twice. But Lectures to My Students is one of those books I come back to over and over. These lectures, on everything from public prayer to posture to illustrations, capture Spurgeon at his wise and whimsical best.

There is, however, one point which I’ve never found convincing. In his lecture entitled “The Call to the Ministry,” Spurgeon says “The first sign of the heavenly calling is an intense, all-absorbing desire for the work” (26, emphasis original). Later in the same paragraph he offers his famous “Don’t do ministry if you can do anything else” advice that has frightened a lot of seminarians (and discouraged a fair number of pastors).

“Do not enter the ministry if you can help it,” was the deeply sage advice of a divine to one who sought his judgment. If any student in this room could be content to be a newspaper editor, or a grocer, or a farmer, or a doctor, or a lawyer, or a senator, or a king, in the name of heaven and earth let him go his way; he is not the man in whom dwells the Spirit of God in its fulness, for a man so filled with God would utterly weary of any pursuit by that for which his inmost soul pants. (26-27)

I certainly see what Spurgeon is getting at. We want ministers who actually want to be ministers, not those looking to make a living or serving under compulsion (1 Peter 5:2). Likewise, I fully agree that too often young men (not mention women nowadays) are pushed into the ministry by well meaning folks who think every college or youth group superstar ought to be a pastor. We are, on the whole, probably too quick to give someone the green light for full-time ministry.

But I’ve always thought these lines from Spurgeon were over the top. Is it really a biblical requirement to insist that a pastor could not possibly be content doing anything else? How does this allow for the naturally diffident or those possessing varied interests and gifts. True, I don’t want a pastor whose real passion is drywall or needlework. His passion must be for the gospel and for preaching. But according to Spurgeon, a pastor must not even be content doing something else. This is a heavy burden for young men who are considering ministry but also feel energized by other pursuits. More significantly, this can be a heavy burden for the weary, discouraged pastor who, if truth be told, probably has some days where he could be more content doing anything but full-time ministry.

To make matters worse, the Spurgeon quotation sometimes morphs into the strange notion that pastors go into the ministry because they aren’t good at anything else. On more than one occasion I’ve heard pastors say, mostly tongue in cheek I imagine, that the only reason they keep doing what they do is because they couldn’t get another job. This is decidedly not what Spurgeon had in mind. Toward the end of the same lecture he says, “A man who succeeds as a preacher would probably do right well either as a grocer, or a lawyer, or anything else. A really valuable ministry would have excelled at anything” (38).

None of this is meant to encourage lukewarm, half-hearted, double-minded preachers into the pulpit. But we must not insist upon more than God demands. The pastor should earnestly desire to preach and to serve the church. And yet, the pastor does not have to be miserable at every other pursuit, nor does have to imagine himself miserable doing anything else. If we take Spurgeon too literally we’ll scare away some good potential pastors, not to mention the real harm we might do to some sensitive pastoral souls come next Monday morning.

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Sep

01

2010

Kevin DeYoung|9:16 am CT

There’s Something Worse Than Death

We will never make sense of the Bible, the church’s mission, or the glory of the gospel unless we understand this seeming paradox: Death is the last enemy, but it is not the worst.

Clearly, death is an enemy, the last enemy to be destroyed, Paul tells us (1 Cor. 15:26). Death is the tragic result of sin (Rom. 5:12). It should be hated and despised. It should arouse our anger and mournful indignation (John 11:35, 38).  Death must be defeated.

But, on the other hand, it must not be feared. Over and over, Scripture tells us not to be afraid of death. After all, what can flesh do to us (Ps. 56:3-4)? The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and they are saved (Prov. 18:10). So even if we are delivered up to our enemies, not a hair shall perish from our head apart from God’s ordaining (Luke 21:18). As Christians we conquer by the word of our testimony, not by clinging to the breath of life (Rev. 12:11). In fact, there is nothing more fundamental to Christianity than the certain faith that death will be gain for us (Phil. 1:21).

Therefore we do not fear death. Instead, “we are of good courage,” for “we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5:8).

The consistent witness of Scripture is that death is grievous, but far from the ultimate disaster that can befall a person. In fact, there’s something worse than death. Much worse.

FEAR THIS

For the most part, Jesus did not want the disciples to be afraid. He told them not to fear their persecutors (Matt. 10:26), not to fear those who kill the body (v. 28), not to fear for their precious little hairs on their precious little heads (v. 31). Jesus did not want them afraid of much, but he did want them to be afraid of hell. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul,” Jesus warned. “Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (28).

People often talk as if Jesus was above frightening people with scenes of judgment. But such sentiment exposes soft-minded prejudice more than careful exegesis. Often Jesus warned of the day of judgment (Matt. 11:24; 25:31-46), spoke of condemnation (Matt. 12:37; John 3:18), and described hell in graphic, shocking terms (Matt. 13:49-50; 18:9; Luke 16:24). You only have to read his parables about the tenants or the wedding feast or the virgins or the talents to realize that Jesus frequently motivated his hearers to heed his message by warning them of coming judgment. It was not beneath Jesus to scare the hell out of people.

Obviously, it would be inaccurate to characterize Jesus and the apostles as nothing but sandwich-board fanatics with vacant stares screaming at people to repent or perish. It flattens the New Testament beyond recognition to make it one large tract about saving souls from hell. And yet, it would be closer to the truth to picture Jesus and the apostles (not to mention John the Baptist) passionately pleading with people to flee the wrath to come than it would be to imagine them laying out plans for cosmic renewal and helping people on their spiritual journeys. Anyone reading through the gospels, the epistles, and the apocalypse with an open mind has to conclude that eternal life after death is the great reward for which we hope and eternal destruction after death is the dreadful judgment which we should want to avoid at all costs. From John 3 to Romans 1 to 1 Thessalonians 4 to Revelation…well, all of it, scarcely a chapter goes by where God does not appear as the great Savior of the righteous and the righteous judge of the wicked. There is a death for God’s children which should not be feared (Heb. 2:14-15), and a second death for the ungodly which should be (Rev. 20:11-15).

STEADY AS SHE GOES

However unpopular it may be and however much we may wish to soften its hard edges, the doctrine of hell is essential for faithful Christian witness. The belief that there is something worse than death is, to recall John Piper’s imagery, ballast for our ministry boats.

Hell is not the North Star. That is, divine wrath is not our guiding light. It does not set the direction for everything in the Christian faith like, say, the glory of God in the face of Christ. Neither is hell the faith-wheel which steers the ship, nor the wind that powers us along, nor the sails that capture the Spirit’s breeze. Yet hell is not incidental to this vessel we call the church. It’s our ballast, and we throw it overboard at great peril to ourselves and to everyone drowning far out at sea.

For those not familiar with boating terms (and I for one find them arcane), ballast refers to weights, usually put underneath in the middle of the boat, which are used to keep the ship stable in the water. Without ballast, the boat will not sit properly. It will veer off course more easily or be tossed from side to side. Ballast keeps the boat balanced.

The doctrine of hell is like that for the church. Divine wrath may not be the decorative masthead or the flag we raise up every flagpole. The doctrine may be underneath other doctrines. It may not always be seen. But its absence will always be felt.

Since hell is real, we must prepare our people to die well far more than we strive to help them live comfortably. Since hell is real, we must never think alleviating earthly suffering is the most loving thing we can do. Since hell is real, evangelism and discipleship must not be marginalized as important tasks that are on par with painting a school or producing a movie.

If we lose the doctrine of hell, either becoming too embarrassed to mention it or too culturally-sensitive to affirm it, we can count on this: the boat will drift. The cross will be stripped of propitiation, our preaching will be devoid of urgency and power, and our work in the world will no longer center on calling people to faith and repentance and building them to maturity in Christ. Lose the ballast of divine judgment and our message, our ministry, and our mission will all eventually change.

STAYING ON COURSE

All of life must be lived to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31). And we ought to do good to all people (Gal. 6:10). No apologies necessary for caring about our cities, loving our neighbors, or working hard at our vocation. These too are “musts.” But with the doctrine of hell as ballast in our boats, we will never sneer at the old hymns which call us to rescue the perishing, nor will we scoff at saving souls as it were nothing but glorified fire insurance.

There is something worse than death. And only the gospel of Jesus Christ, proclaimed by Christians and protected by the church, can set us free from what we truly must fear. The doctrine of hell reminds us that the greatest need of every person will not be met by the United Nations or Habitat for Humanity or the United Way. It is only through Christian witness, through proclamation of Christ crucified, that the worst thing in all the world will not fall on all those in the world. 

So to all the wonderful, sacrificial, risk-taking pastors who love justice, care for the suffering, and long to renew their cities, Jesus says, “Well done. But don’t forget the ballast, boys.”

[This essay is from the September-October 9Marks eJournal on Hell: Remembering the Awful Reality]

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Sep

01

2010

Kevin DeYoung|9:07 am CT

Around the Web

I don’t usually do a lot of links on my blog. There are others who do that much better than I could (e.g., JT, Challies), and I usually just end up stealing there stuff anyway. But here are a few things worth checking out:

Marriage and the Seinfeld Effect. Do more and more people really approve of homosexuality? Or do more and more people just think they should approve? If it is the latter, this is one more reason why the church must not be silent on this issue–winsome and gracious, but not silent.

Church Planter. Good trailer for a new book from Darrin Patrick. Looks promising.

Andrew Peterson on Poverty, Simplicity, and Raising a Family. You really should read this piece. Peterson, who is best known for his wonderful music, has written a thoughtful, balanced, wise article about the tension between his respect for the radical Christians who grow long hair and walk around barefoot and, on the other hand, his need as a father to provide.

Lady Vicar Tells Anglicans to Learn from Black Sabbath. Is it possible this is satire? It doesn’t seem to be, but I wish it were: “The Reverend Rachel Mann writes in the Church Times that the outpourings of Black Sabbath and their musical descendants demonstrated a ‘liberative theology of darkness’ enabling acolytes to be ‘relaxed and fun.’”

Last but certainly not least, be sure to read the new 9Marks eJournal on Hell: Remembering The Awful Reality. These eJournals are always worth reading. This one features articles by Mark Dever, Kevin DeYoung, Sinclair Ferguson, Greg Gilbert, Andy Naselli, James Hamilton, and an annotated bibliography by Gavin Ortlund.

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Aug

31

2010

Kevin DeYoung|6:02 am CT

August Book Briefs

Ah real life. It does not afford as much time for reading as vacation and study leave. Go figure.

1. Robert L. Plummer, 40 Questions about Interpreting the Bible (Kregel 2010). I’m intrigued by this series (especially looking forward to Tom Schreiner’s forthcoming 40 Questions About Christians and Biblical Law). It’s a nice concept–clearly laid out chapters, easy to use, and after each question there are reflection questions and recommended resources for further study.

I admit I have not carefully read every chapter in this book. But it’s not that kind of book. You’ll want to use it as a resource to consult or find the most relevant sections and read through them first (the book is divided into four parts). I found the chapters on genre to be the most helpful. Any layperson, and pastors for that matter, will be helped by Plummer’s wise counsel when it comes to narrative, hyperbole, poetry, proverbs, or parables. I plan to use many chapters from this book in personal discipleship.

Whether you preach every week, lead a Bible study, or just want to grow in your own study of the Scriptures, you’ll find this book immensely valuable.

2. Brandon J. O’Brien, The Stragetically Small Church: Intimate, Nimble, Authentic, Effective (Bethany House 2010). This book is a mixed bag. On the down side: the cover seems odd. The color schemes, the random rectangles amidst lots of white space, and the lower case letters strike me as neither nimble nor effective. But that’s not terribly important.

More significantly, the book lacks a strong theological center. At times O’Brien seems anti-organic church. Later he commends their leaders. He seems not to like multisite, but he also thinks it’s a good way for good churches to get small. O’Brien argues against modern “it works” pragmatism, but his argument for small churches often boils down to “in today’s culture, they will give people more of what they want” (my words not his). O’Brien downplays the importance of preaching and appears to have no problem with women pastors.

All that to say, this should not be your go-to book on church ministry. But if you are looking for encouragement as a small church pastor or congregant, O’Brien will be helpful. I pastor a medium-sized church and found good food for thought throughout. You’ll be exhorted to be yourself and stop trying to keep up with the big dogs. You’ll learn to see your smallness as an opportunity instead of an obstacle. You’ll learn to be more strategic and more content.

The verdict: if read with discernment, there is some good counsel here for the small church Christian. And, as O’Brien reminds us, that’s most of us.

3. Brett McCracken, Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide (Baker 2010). This is a deceptively important book. This is not a how-to hipster manual. It is not satire. Neither is it a jeremiad against all things relevant as Books and Culture seems to think. The book is an analysis on where the concept of cool comes from and how Christians have become so infatuated by it. I’ve not always been in agreement with Brett’s theological instincts, but this book on cultural analysis is much more his forte.

From the outset I should say that Brett is a hipster and I most definitely am not. I don’t say this as a badge of honor or shame. It’s just a fact. Of the most popular hipster shows (according to Brett)–Flight of the Conchords, Important Things with Demetri Martin, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Dexter, Lost, 30 Rock, Mad Men, The Wire, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, The Colbert Report, The Office, Big Love, Breaking Bad, Project Runaway, True Blood, Sons of Anarchy, Jersey Shore–I’ve watched an entire episode of only one of these (The Office). I’ve heard of a few more (Jon Stewart, The Colbert Report, 30 Rock, Jersey Shore), but most of these titles mean nothing to me.

I’m even more hapless when it comes to hip music. Under the section on “Dilettante” hipsters, Brett mentions the following music: “Heavy on lo-fi, glo-fi, shoegaze, sh-tgaze, or whatever the indie trend of the moment happens to be. Wavves, Neon, Indian, Memory Tapes, Washed Out, Real Estate, Thievery Corporation, Air France, Lykke Li. Anything Swedish is also acceptable” (57). I don’t have the foggiest notion what any of those words mean. That’s no exaggeration. I could not tell you one single solitary thing about Thievery Corporation or Lykke Li. I do not know if sh-tgaze is a type of canine or a swear word.

Thankfully, Brett understands hipster culture. You get the sense that from his own personal tastes and his previous work at Relevant Magazine that Brett “gets” the music, the look, the ethos of hip. In fact, I would argue that it is his background at Relevant in particular that has provoked him to react so strongly against the allures of hipsterdom. One look at the Relevant website or magazine and you’ll see why Brett is so concerned that some Christians are too concerned to be hip (as of this writing the three main features scrolling at Relevant were a recap of the Emmys, a look at the television show The Closer, and a review of Ice Cube’s new movie The Lottery Ticket).

Of course, everyone will argue whether this person or that church is really “hip” (hey Josh and C.J., Covenant Life Church made the list! Who knew?). But getting caught up in “who’s hip, who’s not” misses the point. Brett wants Christians to stop trying so hard. He doesn’t expect people who like lo-fi to give up, well, whatever that means. But he does call hipsters to stop caring so much about all that stuff. If some Christians end up being cool, it must be because they just are, not because they packaged themselves that way.

Perhaps the most important reminder in the book has to do with rebellion. Cool by its very nature depends on differentiation. Hipsters must always be the minority, the rebels. They are “in” when the masses are not. And once the masses get in on the “in,” the hipster is forced to move on to something else. That’s the nature of cool. Brett is right to warn against this perpetual chasing of rebellion, of danger, of now-ness and relevance. There’s also the real temptations to vanity, pride, and obsession with self.

But please don’t think this is a book affirming people like me. We all are tempted to the vices listed above. Don’t read the book to feel smug about your un-hipness. The point is we all should pursue what is “certain, true, and solid–something the church can certainly be if it only gets its head on straight and mounts an epic reversal of the [culture's] ripple effect” (228). The bottom line: we must not point people to cool or to the status quo; we must point them to Christ.

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Aug

30

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:53 am CT

Monday Morning Humor

With the Labor Day holiday coming up, you’ll probably want to make an effort to work in this question at some point. Your company will be delighted you asked.

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Aug

28

2010

Kevin DeYoung|7:17 am CT

New Parish Psalms

While in Colorado Springs this summer I had the privilege of preaching at Village Seven Presbyterian Church (a fine PCA congregation where some of my wife’s family attends). On that particular Sunday Nathan Clark George was visiting and helped to lead worship using some of Greg Wilbur’s new parish Psalms. Even though I was singing the songs for the first time Nathan did such a good job leading and the songs were so rich and singable that I knew I wanted to hear more.

Greg Wilbur is the Chief Musician and liturgist at Parish Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Franklin, Tennessee. His CD, My Cry Ascends, includes 16 Psalms set to folk music with elements of Celtic style and southern harmony. Artists like Michael Card, Steve Green, Nathan Clark George, Katy Snow, Bruce Carroll, and Wes King provide the vocals.

Considering the sad paucity of Psalm singing in our churches, this is an album pastors and music leaders  should seriously consider purchasing. The words are biblical and the music is Getty-like, attractive and entirely suitable for congregational singing.

I just received the full CD this week. It has been my constant companion in the car and in the study for several days straight. You can go to Ligonier or Amazon to learn more about the CD, make a purchase, or listen to samples. The sheet music is available here.

Want more information? Check out this introductory video by Compass Cinema.

My Cry Ascends | Greg Wilbur from Compass Cinema on Vimeo.

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Aug

27

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:44 am CT

Theological Acumen from the IRS

In a day where popular ecclesiology (so-called) boils down to slogans like “we don’t go to church, because we are the church” and some believers argue that anywhere you have two Christians talking about spiritual things and trying to follow Jesus there you have a church, it’s nice to know the Internal Revenue Service still has standards.

The U.S. Court of Appeals recently ruled that religious groups who primarily offer radio and internet worship services do not meet the IRS definition of church. In his ruling, Federal Circuit Court Judge William Bryson emphasized the associational test which defines a church as an organization whose members meet regularly for worship. In addition, the IRS has outlined 14 criteria for determining what is and and is not a church.

Those criteria include that it has a recognized creed and form of worship; a formal code of doctrine and discipline; a membership not associated with any other church or denomination; ordained ministers selected after completing prescribed studies; and holds regular religious services.

Are you kidding me? Creed, doctrine, discipline, membership, ordained ministers, regular religious services–that’s the most impressive display to come from tax collectors since wee Zacchaeus climbed in that sycamore tree.

While we don’t want to leave the defining of “church” to the IRS, and it appears there is wiggle room with their 14 criteria, it is nevertheless instructive to see that the world sometimes understands what a church is supposed to be better than the Christians do.

HT: The Aquila Report

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Aug

26

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:45 am CT

A Lost Letter to Wormwood (conclusion)

We pick up the letter with Screwtape’s instructions on how to keep his nephew’s college-aged subject away from church and perfectly wretched…

At the risk of insulting your diabolical intelligence, allow me to remind me of your course in Youth Misery. Recall the Three S’s of Satan, our Sinister Snake (I know, he sometimes gets carried away with alliteration, but it does help jog the old memory). The Three S’s of youth misery: Keep them separate. Keep them selfish. Keep them searching. Allow me to expound.

The First S: Keep them separate. Our Bureau of Statistics (remember there are lies, damned lies, and statistics) has documented evidence proving that the best way to keep young people from growing into devoted followers of the Enemy is to keep them far away from any of his grown-up, devoted followers. Church attendance allows for too much interaction between old and young. With this interaction come manifold dangers: modeling, mentoring, service, and hospitality.

Listen closely. Groups of students meeting together for prayer and study is, it’s true, a pernicious influence, but gladly, the influence is often short-lived. Soon, your subject will graduate and he will find that the rest of the planet is not like his university. He will not be surrounded by peers all his age with his same interests. It is to our advantage that he be unable to relate to anyone above the age of 25. This not only makes for misery, but it makes church involvement, and therefore the Christian life, much less likely.

This, of course, goes hand in hand with the Second S: Keep them selfish. It’s really quite simple.  All of our human subjects are selfish, but the young especially. It’s hardly their fault. They have no spouse or children to think of, only themselves. They have food handed to them on plastic platters. And they live in a country that believes for some strange reason, pleasant enough to us, that history doesn’t matter, that the old are useless, and that youth culture should be prized above all else. And yet, I must hasten to add, don’t underestimate your subject. Human youths are capable of extraordinary acts of courage and bravery and accomplishment, as the Annals of the Enemy record. Keep your youth far away from such examples. See to it that no visions of nobility or self-sacrifice or inspiration enter his head.

Which again, if I may repeat myself, is why church must be foresworn at all costs. It is at church that he will see examples of lived-out bravery and sacrifice. And, more importantly, it is at church that he will have to face his own selfishness. He will encounter music he doesn’t like and old people who do strange things and babies who smell and cry. (Incidentally, I only mention babies because your subject is male, as is mine. The female youth I am told must not, under any circumstances, be surrounded by small children, those children enticing the females to re-visit church rather than repulsing them away as with most male subjects). My point is that so long as the spiritual experiences of our youthful subjects can be catered to the whims and fancies of 18-22 year olds, the students will not likely stick with a church when they discover that churches must also deal with the whims and fancies of 8 year olds and grandmothers.

One more thing, students today love the idea of community. Do everything in your power to keep them loving the idea of community rather than loving their community. As long as they love their vision of community instead of loving the actual fleshly people around them, they will never have real community and they will stay far away from church.

The Third S, and I here I draw to a close, is to keep them searching. Use the native restlessness of this time to your advantage. Students think it is their inalienable right to be irresponsible and uncommitted. Feed this conviction. Do not, in any way, allow for your subject to consider commitment or service or what they call “accountability.” If he must be interested in God, keep it peripheral. Let him come and go and flit in and out of whatever spiritual venue suits him for the day. But see to it that he makes no promises, no commitments, no investment. And in the unlikely event that you cannot prevent such blunders, make sure there is no one in his life to hold him to his promises and commitments, especially those who are older and wiser. This goal is best served by keeping our patients away from church. Remember the cross-stitch (pardon my use of the foul word “cross”) above auntie’s fridge: “Keep them searching for the soul; never finding and never whole.”

All that’s left is for me to thank you for your patience in reading what has turned out to be a rather lengthy correspondence. Please do not hear my harsh words as anything but familial concern for your welfare and the good of our Infernal Kingdom.

Would you be so kind as to write me back as soon as possible? These are weighty matters and we truly live in troubled times. Might I suggest you use the post instead of email–what with your past internet struggles and dalliance with sermonography?

Say hello to your father for me. Best wishes in your malfeasance, malevolence, and malediction.

Unscrupulously yours,

Uncle Screwtape

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Aug

25

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:43 am CT

A Lost Letter to Wormwood

Tis the season for the great migration of students to our institutions of higher learning. This week, next week, and into September, thousands of young adults will leave home and head off to college (“University” if you want to sound European). Many of these students are Christians. Some will look for Christian fellowship in their new home. Fewer will commit themselves to a church. This “fewer” is just as the devil likes it.

At one time or another every Christian writer tries his hand at a Screwtape Letter, the C.S. Lewis inspired form of address where you write like you’re one of the bad guys. I don’t claim to be very good at it, but here’s my humble attempt. Pass it on your friends and children. Churchless Christians are on their way to being no Christian at all.

*******

Fall 2010, A.H. (Anno Hostis, “the year of our Enemy”)

My dear Wormwood,

It’s been too long time since last I wrote. In my defense, however, it was dreadfully cold up above. How do humans endure such miserable conditions? But poor weather aside, please accept my insincerest apologies for the delay in finally putting pen to paper.

I trust all is devious and devilish between you and your subject. I am not an easy uncle to please, but your efforts over the past several years with your subject have been, I must admit, rather impressive. True, high school is a particularly grand time for opportunistic spirits like ourselves.  But these advantages do not detract from your work, which has been to date, exemplary.

Your teenage subject has all the usual paradoxes of American youth we like to see down here: rebellious, yet disinterested; slothful, yet impetuous; disrespectful to parents, yet an irresponsible drain on their resources; tolerant of religions he knows nothing about, yet fiercely intolerant of the one he knows best. All in all, a splendid few years my injurious Wormwood. Bravo!

It is because your work has proven so trustworthy over the last few years, that I now feel obliged to speak with you quite candidly about a matter of grave importance. Your subject is now enrolled in what the earth world calls “college.” I do not need to remind you what splendid opportunities these places afford us. But there is one particular danger, and you must see to it that it is avoided at all costs. And that danger is church attendance.

Though your subject seems safe from the clutches of our Enemy Above, you will recall that he has spent the majority of his Sundays, thus far, in church. The habit may not be easy to break. If he tries church for a few weeks, make sure it is a pointless endeavor. Do not forget our little rhyme: “If to church one must go, lead him to an empty show. And when all we can do is meddle, makes sure on one church he does not settle.”

Church attendance is bad enough, nephew, but consistent attendance at the same church spells almost certain doom for our cause. If your human persists in his church interest, you simply must devise some way to shuffle him around from congregation to congregation. See to it he never knows the people he is worshiping with. Keep reminding him of how rotten the music is over here, and how long the sermon is over there, and how bland the coffee is at that other church. Trust me, it won’t take much to get him floundering on church. Almost any excuse will do.

College students are nothing if not critical. They are trained in it daily. Use this to your advantage, my dear boy. If your subject is determined to go to church, make sure he searches for the perfect church. Within a few weeks he will be fast asleep on Sunday morning, much to our Father’s delight.

Speaking of sleep, do whatever you can do keep your subject out late on Saturday evenings? Drink, girls, football, video games, paper—it doesn’t matter. Just keep him up. You know perfectly well how our Father Below insists on busyness at all costs and how terribly he depends on sleep deprivation for his work. It’s a well known fact among the higher ranks of devildom, that silly humans suspect our interference in the big things–death, accidents, spinning heads, and the like. They never expect that our work consists mainly in distraction.

So do not neglect our demonic bread and butter. Make Friday a fun day and Saturday a waste. He will have no choice then but to sleep on Sunday and use the rest of the day to get ready for Monday. Keep up your discipline my dear Wormwood or he will keep up his!

You will excuse me for my stern tone, but I cannot overstate the importance of this matter of church. Perhaps your youth prevents you from fully grasping the eternal significance of this issue. Heaven is at stake, my infernal child. Spirituality is one thing. God talk is generally harmless. Student “fellowships” as they call them are tolerable for a season. But for hell’s sake, Wormwood, church is absolutely out of the question.

Of course, it goes without saying some churches serve our cause nicely. Dead tradition churches. Silly entertainment churches. Social get-together churches. Political party churches. Loveless, divisive churches. Doctrineless churches. These are all wonderful. Our concern, and I must reiterate it is a deep concern, is with churches that act like churches, the ones that preach Christ and live out their blasphemous faith.

Such churches introduce many bad habits in our subjects. They become more thoughtful. They become more aware of our Enemy’s character and schemes. They learn to love each other, even people unlike them in situation and temperament. This can only bode ill for our work in the long run.

(Check back tomorrow for the conclusion of the letter)

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Aug

24

2010

Kevin DeYoung|5:40 am CT

Need Help? Know God

Do you have a friend in trouble? Maybe he–could be she but I’ll just say he–is struggling with sin. Or maybe he’s discouraged because being a Christian hard. Perhaps he’s ostracized because of his faith. His colleagues at work don’t like him. His neighbors think he’s a little strange.

Imagine your friend tells you that he’s wondering if being a Christian is really worth it. He’s tired of having to be discriminating with the movies he watches. He’s tired of fighting the temptation to wander in and out of porn. And frankly, he’s tired of being told that he shouldn’t live life for himself. He sees what he could be making if he was willing to walk on people on the way to top like everybody else. He thinks about the nicer car he could drive if he didn’t give ten percent to the church. Your friend says, “It’s not fair.” He’s feeling a bit angry with God.

What’s more, he’s tired of always being the odd man out when his extended family talks about abortion or homosexuality. He’s doesn’t want to be the seen as the narrow-minded, judgmental, prudish Christian anymore. He’s ready to quit defending the uniqueness of Jesus Christ in a pluralistic world.

And on top of all this, he’s weary of serving others and trying to love people he doesn’t like. He wants to blow his top like everybody else and harbor feelings of revenge. He’s flat out tired of suffering for being a Christian and tired of fighting the fight as a Christian. He’s not sure all this hassle is worth it now or that it really will be worth it later.

So you sit down to write this Christian friend a letter. What do you write him? Would you tell him that, above all else, God wants him to be happy, that God wouldn’t ask him to do something that would cost him his friends or his money? Do you tell him that Christianity must change or die, that God’s truth takes on different forms in every generation and so he shouldn’t cling to outmoded beliefs about sexuality and eternal punishment? Do you assure him that whatever suffering or hardship he experiences is not from the hand of a sovereign God, but that God hurts with him as he hurts? Do you tell him that it’s okay for him to be angry with God for the things in his life and that, in fact, his doubt and bitterness toward God are actually an indication of how strong his faith really is? Would you write back and say, “Thanks for sharing your story. We all have our stories and it was great to hear yours.”? Do you tell him that faith is an adventure and he should enjoy the wild ride? Do you figure that the last thing a hurting person needs is theology, so you simply tell him that faith is a mystery and isn’t it wonderful to all be on this journey together? What would you write to your suffering, struggling, almost compromising friend?

If you were the Apostle John writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, you would write to him about God.

John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of kings on earth. To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood and made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen. “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty. (Revelation 1:4-8)

It’s amazing how few of us talk to each other about God. Not about church or about being a Christian, but about God. I’m not sure if we are scared of being irrelevant, or scared of being too spiritual, or if we just plain don’t think that knowing God will help much of anything–but for some reason our initial reaction when friends are struggling or suffering or wrestling with temptation is to tell them about something other than God.

But it should not be this way.

The churches in Asia minor were facing pressure to succumb. Some were suffering for their faith and some were comprising their faith. God was calling them to overcome the struggle, overcome the temptation, and be victorious through Conquering King Jesus. So God gave a revelation to Jesus, who made it known by an angel to John, who then wrote the struggling churches of Asia Minor. And the first thing John told these Christians was of the majesty our Triune God–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

What you and I need most is not the affirmation of our stories, nor content-less, shapeless platitudes about the mysterious journey of faith, nor a morality pep talk, nor the undermining of God’s sovereignty. What we need is a glimpse of God in all his terrible splendor and wonderful weightiness.

After that, we need friends, and to be friends, like our friend on the Isle of Patmos.

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