Thanks to C.E. Moore for this kind review of The Decline of African American Theology.  Here’s Moore’s opening paragraph:

Thabiti Anyabwile’s The Decline of African American Theology: From Biblical Faith to Cultural Captivity is a triumph. Let’s admit it—theology isn’t a very sexy topic. When you couple the subject of theology with the subject of history, you’re likely in for a mind-numbing experience. But,The Decline was a book I couldn’t put down. As far as I know, there are no books about this topic in the popular market. Anyabwile has helped fill that void and hopefully this book will spark some much-needed dialogue on such an important matter.  Read the entire review.

If you’re not familiar with cogito/credo, you might want to check out their site.  Some very helpful and interesting things offered there.

The elders of FBC are currently leading about 40 members of the church through a discussion of The Trellis and the Vine.  As elders, we found the book so helpful and clear that we wanted to share its insights with our people.

I just learned that Tony and Col, authors of the book, are posting a series of podcasts discussing issues related to the book.  Thus far there are two discussions posted:

Trellis & Vine Talk 1–Not About Small Groups

In this first episode of Trellis & Vine Talk Tony and Col discuss—amongst other things— why the ideas in The Trellis and the Vine are not about small groups and one-to-one. Listen to it here, or download the file to catch up on it later.

Trellis & Vine Talk 2–Who Is Your Sheep?

This is the second episode of Trellis & Vine Talk, in which Tony and Col discuss discipleship gurus, what (or who) exactly is a lay pastor, a shepherds heart, and ministry of the word. Listen to it here, or download the file to catch up on it later.

Thanks to The Briefing for posting these!  Enjoy!

All you bibliophiles may want to check out the Cumberland Valley Bible Bookstore’s sale today (Wednesday 21st) and Thursday (Tuesday 22nd).  It’s their customer appreciation sale featuring an additional 10% off their usual low prices across all publishers and all lines.

Find books like David Murray’s new title How Sermons Work being just $4.50 instead of $9.99. Or Jim Boice’s 40-day devotional To the Glory of God for $3.60 instead of $14.99.  Great time to remember family and friends who may delight in God’s truth.

Crowds were thronging and pressing him; great multitudes came together to hear and to be healed of their infirmities; and he had no leisure so much as to eat.  But he found time to pray.

And this one who sought retirement with so much solicitude was the Son of God, having no sin to confess, no shortcoming to deplore, no unbelief to subdue, no languor of love to overcome.  Nor are we to imagine that his prayers were merely peaceful meditations, or rapturous acts of communion.  They were strenuous and warlike, from that hour in the wilderness when angels came to minister to the prostate Man of Sorrows, on to that awful ‘agony’ in which his sweat was, as it were, great drops of blood.  His prayers were sacrifices, offered up with strong crying and tears.

David McIntryre, The Hidden Life of Prayer: The Life-blood of the Christian (Christian Focus, 2010), p. 42.

Lloyd-Jones titles chapter 4 of his book, Spiritual Depression, “Men as Trees, Walking.”  He calls our attention to Mark 8:22-26, an account of Jesus healing a blind man in two “attempts.”  I put the word “attempts” in quotation marks because Lloyd-Jones argues that the first attempt, which resulted in the blind man seeing of sorts (men walking as though trees), was not successful at producing perfectly restored sight.  Lloyd-Jones argues that this miracle was a parable of sorts.  He says it’s placed here in Mark’s gospel as a lesson to the disciples, “to enable the disciples to see themselves as they were” (p. 39).  Lloyd-Jones contends that the disciples were beginning to see Jesus, but they were not yet seeing as fully as they ought.  They were in process.  Their understanding was not yet whole.  They were, like the man in Mark 8, blind and not blind.

In this sermon/chapter, Lloyd-Jones describes the problem this way:

I am concerned about these Christians who are disquieted and unhappy and miserable because of this lack of clarity.  It is almost impossible to define them.  You sometimes talk to this type and you think: “This man is a Christian.”  And then you meet him again and you are thrown into doubt at once, and you say: “Surely he cannot be a Christian if he can say a thing like that or do such a thing as that.”  Whenever you meet this man you get a different impression; and you never quite know whether he is a Christian or not.  You are not happy in saying either that he does see of that he does not see.  Furthermore, the difficulty is that not only do others feel like this about these people, they feel it about themselves.  Let me pay them that tribute, they are unhappy because they are not clear about themselves.  … [T]hey are as troubles about themselves as other Christians are about them; they feel they are, and they feel they are not Christians.  They seem to know enough about Christianity to spoil their enjoyment of the world, and yet they do not know enough to feel happy about themselves.  They are “neither hot nor cold.”

What do such people “see”? Lloyd-Jones offers some thoughts:

1.  ”Very often they are clear that there is something wrong with them as they are.  They are unhappy about themselves.”

2.  ”They may see the excellencies of the Christian life….  They say: ‘There is no question at all about it, the Christian life is the life, if only everyone lived like that!”

3.  ”They may have come to see that Jesus Christ is the only hope, that Jesus Christ is somehow the Saviour.  …They have felt that he could help them, they have come to see that christianity is the only hope for the world, and in some way they see and know that his Person Jesus can help them.”

4.  ”These people have seen that they cannot save themselves.  They have tried so often, but they are dissatisfied; and as they see the true nature of the Christian quality of life, they see that man cannot lift himself up to that.  They see that they cannot save themselves.”

But the problem is what they do not see.  Have you ever had an evangelistic conversation with someone who showed pretty clear understanding of themselves as sinners, saw clearly that Jesus was the Savior, and knew they couldn’t save themselves, but remained outside the faith?  If you have, then you know how debilitating that can be to an evangelist–especially if you’re prone to “pushing” people to “make a decision.”  All the facts are on the table, and the sinner has consented to them all.  He may even express a desire to be saved, but he never “crosses the line.”  He never moves from life to death.

Now, I know the theological explanations for this.  But think for a moment about the experience of it all.  Think not only of how helpless and baffled the evangelist can be in those situations.  Think also of the real depression and despair of the sinner in such a case.  They know they’re wrong and in need, but they still don’t see the kingdom of God’s dear Son.  There you both sit–staring at each other as if to say, “I see what’s needed but I have no idea how to get there.”  Then simultaneously you knowingly nod and say, “I know.”  No one is happy with this kind of “knowledge.”

Lloyd-Jones offers a few things that the person does not yet see clearly.  These may be helpful to us in our evangelism and counseling with such persons.

1.  ”First of all they have no clear understanding of certain principles.  …They do not see how [Jesus] is the Savior.  They are not clear, for instance, about the death of Christ and its absolute necessity.  Neither are they clear about the doctrine of the rebirth.”

2.  ”The second thing they do not see clearly is that their heart is not fully engaged.  Though they are able to see many things, they do not really find their happiness in Christianity and in the Christian position.  Somehow or another they are not moved by it, they do not find real joy in it. …They are not happy; they still seem to find their joy, as far they have any, somewhere else; their heart is not fully engaged.”

3.  ”The third thing that is true about the people under discussion is that their will is divided.  They are rebellious, they do not see why a man, because he calls himself a ‘Christian,’ has got to do certain things and stop doing others.  They think that is being narrow.  Yet they denounce the old life and embrace the Christian life in general.  They acknowledge Christ as Savior and yet when it comes to the question of the application of His teaching through the will, there is confusion and they are not clear about it.  They are always arguing about this, always asking if it is right for them to do this and that.

Next, the Doctor comes to what he sees are the causes of this condition:

1.  ”There is no doubt but that sometimes the responsibility is entirely that of the evangelist concerned when they were first awakened.  Evangelists are often the cause of the trouble.  In their anxiety to report results they produce this very condition.”

2.  ”These people generally object to clear-cut definitions; they dislike clarity and certainty. …I think they object to clarity of thought and definition because of its demands.  The most comfortable type of religion is always a vague religion, nebulous and uncertain, cluttered up with forms and ritual. …These people say: ‘You are being too precise, you are being too legalistic.  No, no, I do not like this.  I believe in Christianity, but you are being too rigid and too narrow in your conceptions.” …If you start your Christian life and experience by saying that you do not want an exact focus or a precise definition in your picture, you probably will not have it!

3.  ”The real trouble with these people is that they never fully accept the teaching and the authority of the Scriptures.  I suppose that ultimately is the whole cause of the trouble.  They do not come to the Bible and submit themselves utterly and absolutely to it.  If only we came to the Scriptures as little children and took them at their face value and allowed them to speak to us, this sort of trouble would never arise.  These people will not do that.”

4.  ”Yet another cause of this condition is that almost invariably its victims are not interested in doctrine.  …They say they are not interested in doctrine, that they like Bible expositions but do not like doctrine.  They claim to believe the doctrines which are in the Bible and which come out of the Bible, but (it is almost incredible but it is true) they draw this fatal contrast between Biblical exposition and doctrine.  …But it is not difficult to understand their position.  It is the doctrine that hurts, it is the doctrine that focuses things. …[B]ut doctrine speaks to us and insists upon a decision.  This is truth, and it examines us and tries us and forces us to examine ourselves.  So, if we start by objecting to doctrine as such, it is not surprising that we do not see clearly.  The whole purpose of all the creeds drawn up by the Christian Church, together with every confession of faith on doctrine and dogma was to enable people to see and to think clearly.”

5.  ”The last explanation of this condition I would say is that many people do not take the doctrines of the scripture in their right order.”

Imagine if you will a ladder.  At the top of the ladder is Delight.  That’s the aim, and the half-seeing Christian cannot seem to find their way to it.  The rung just below Delight is Doctrine, clearly defined and taken in proper order.  Doctrine leads to delight.  But one rung below Delight is Authority.  We want climb to a joyful embrace of Doctrine which leads to Delight unless we bring ourselves fully and happily under the authority of the word of God.  The rung below Authority is marked Definition.  We must love clear Definition if we’re ever going to live under the ruling authority of the Bible.  Love for gray when we need black-and-white only results in “men walking as trees.”  The bottom rung is the Evangelist, who must do the work of evangelism having already climbed this ladder from Definition to Authority to Doctrine on to Delight.

Here’s the problem: The person struggling with this form of spiritual depression stands at the bottom of the ladder looking up to delight but never putting his foot above the bottom rung.

Lloyd-Jones offers his perspective on the cure:

1.  ”The first principle is evident: above everything else avoid making a premature claim that your blindness is cured.  …How many are doing that at the present time (and are pressed to do so), proclaiming they see, when it is so patent to many that they do not see very clearly and are really still in a state of confusion.”

2. “The second thing is the exact opposite of the first.  The temptation to the first is to run and to proclaim they can see, befre they see clearly; but the tempation to the second is to feel absolutely helpless and to say: ‘There is no point in going on’.  In their confusion they become desperate and ask: ‘Why cannot I see?  The whole thing is hopeless.’  They stop reading their Bible, they stop praying.  The devil has discouraged many with lies.  Do not listen to him.

3.  ”What then is the cure?  What is the right way?  It is to be honest and to answer of Lord’s question truthfully and honestly.”

4.  ”The last step is to submit yourself to Him, to submit yourself utterly to Him….  Stop asking questions.  Start with the promises in their right order.  Say: ‘I want the truth whatever it costs me.’  Bind yourself to it, submit yourself to it, come in utter submission as a little child and plead with Him to give you clear sight, perfect vision, and to make you whole.”

What do you think of Lloyd-Jones analysis and cure?  For my money, I think he’s spot on.  And I say that as someone with a background in psychology who feels a certain amount of discomfort with what feels like too much psychological language and psychological concepts in a couple places.  But try as I might, I can’t deny the logic of Lloyd-Jones’ perspective here.  And, ultimately, I’m glad because I do think what he outlines offers real help to real people experiencing spiritual depression for precisely the reasons he outlines.

It’s undeniable that a commitment to ambiguity, denial of plain truth, of doctrinal obfuscation leads to real psychological disintegration.  The nature of truth is that it integrates reality into a whole.  It explains the parts.  Truth offers a coherent explanation for the facts as they really are.  That’s why denying the truth–in whatever form the denial takes–ultimately hurts the person in denial.  The delusions that support every form of denial ultimately breaks down under the relentless assertions of Reality.  We can’t carry on denials and delusions forever; at some point, truth conquers.  And conquering truth hurts as Lloyd-Jones pointed out.

The only remedy is a commitment to certainty wherever it takes you, followed by a complete submission to the only infallible source of truth–the scripture, which requires an attempt at synthesizing the Bible’s teaching (doctrine) in proper order, which leads to delight.  The truth shall set you free–free, in this case, from spiritual depression and free to delight in the riches of Christ.

This chapter reminds me of just how much of our disciple-making, friendship, pastoral counseling, preaching, etc. depends on insisting on clarity.  The challenge for us is that we live in a day that disdains clarity and resists it because with clarity comes obligation, demand, inconvenience, change, evaluation, critique, obedience, and a host of other costs to our comfort, our delusions, and our neat little worlds fabricated from the shards of reality and imagination.  Truth is iconoclastic, and the most frequently smashed icon is self.  But if we would be joyful in the Christian life, we must have no other gods before the only true God.  He’s clear about that.  We’d better be clear about it, too.

In his second sermon in Spiritual Depression, Lloyd-Jones expounds Romans 3:28–“Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without deeds of the law.” Early in the sermon, the Doctor lays down the challenge: “There are so many people who never seem to arrive at the true Christian position [on justification] because they are not clear in their minds about certain primary matters, certain fundamental things that should be dealt with at the beginning.”  He adds, “The particular trouble with which we are dealing tends, I find, to be common among those who have been brought up in a religious manner rather than in those who have not been brought up in a religious manner” (p. 24).

So, the Doctor identifies Christian nominalism as a source of spiritual depression.  Here’s the problem in Lloyd-Jones’ experience: “They often concentrate on the question of sanctification, but it does not help them because they have not understood justification” (p. 25).  Such Christians have the holiness cart before the righteousness horse.  As a result, they’re prone to spiritual depression.

Lloyd-Jones rightly pinpoints confusion about justification as “a masterpiece of Satan.”  He writes, Satan “will even encourage us to be righteous as long as he has us confused at this point [how we are justified]” (p. 26).  Lloyd-Jones poses the treatment.  First, we must be quite clear on the conviction of sin.  Joy, the reversal of spiritual depression, depends on being absolutely clear about our sinfulness.

We go astray because we are not truly convicted of our sin.  That is why I say that this is in particular the problem of all those who have been brought up in a religious or Christian manner.  The chief trouble often is their wrong idea of sin.  … That kind of person thinks of sin only in terms of action, in terms of sins.  Not only that, but in terms of certain particular actions only.  So their tendency is to think that because they have not been guilty of these particular things, that they are not really sinners at all.  Indeed, sometimes they put it quite plainly and say: “I have never really thought of myself as a sinner: but of course that is not surprising as my life has been sheltered from the beginning.  I have never been tempted to do these things, and it is not surprising therefore that I have never felt myself to be a sinner.”  Now there we see the very essence of this fallacy.  Their thinking is in terms of actions, particular actions, and of comparisons with other people and their experiences, and so on.  For this reason they have never had a real conviction of sin, and because of that they have never plainly seen their utter absolute need of the Lord Jesus Christ.  they have heard it preached that Christ has died for our sins and they say that they believe that; but they have never really known its absolute necessity for themselves. (pp. 28-29)

Consider what’s being said here.  We can’t properly pursue sanctification and joy until we’ve properly understood justification.  And we can’t properly understand justification until we’ve come to be convinced of our sin, our nature as rebels before a holy God.  Until we are convicted of our sin in a genuine way, we will not have the spiritual joy that the gospel provides to justified sinners.  The root of our joy, according to Lloyd-Jones, is personal conviction of sin.

Having been convicted of our personal sin, the second fundamental thing Lloyd-Jones argues must be understood “is God’s way of salvation in Christ.”  The gospel.  At the heart of the gospel, according to Romans 3, is the imputation of Jesus’ righteousness to the sinner by faith in Jesus’ work on the cross and resurrection.  We stand righteous before God through an alien righteousness credited to our account.  We are justified by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, apart from any works of our own.  Understanding this, Lloyd-Jones contends, unlocks the key to spiritual joy and increasing victory over spiritual depression.  Without this basic understanding, spiritual depression will continue to reign in the lives of those who are nominally Christian and unconvinced of their sin.

Here’s how Lloyd-Jones illustrates this point using conversations he had with many professing Christians:

To make it quite practical let me say that there is a very simple way of testing yourself to know whether you believe [Rom. 3:23-26].  We betray ourselves by what we say.  The Lord Himself said we should be justified by our words, and how true it is.  I have often had to deal with this point with people, and I have explained the way of justification by faith and told them how it is all in christ, and that God puts His righteousness upon us.  I have explained it all to them, and then I have said: “Well, now are you quite happy about it, do you believe that?”  And they say, “Yes.”  Then I say: “Well, then, you are now ready to say that you are a Christian.”  And they hesitate.  And I nkow they have not understood.  Then I say: “What is the matter, why are you hesitating?”  And they say: “I do not feel that I am good enough.”  At once I know that in a sense I have been wasting my breath.  They are still thinking in terms of themselves; their idea still is that they have to make themselves good enough to be a Christian, good enough to be accepted with Christ.  They have to do it!  ”I am not good enough.”  It sounds very modest, but it is the lie of the devil, it is a denial of the faith.  You think that you are being humble.  But you will never be good enough; nobody has ever been good enough.  The essence of the Christian salvation is to say that He is good enough and that I am in Him!

As long as you go on thinking about yourself and saying: “Ah, yes, I would like to, but I am not good enough; I am a sinner, a great sinner,” you are denying God and you will never be happy.  You will continue to be cast down and disquieted in your soul. You will think you are better at times and then again you will find that you are not as good as you thought you were.  You read the lives of the saints and you realize that you are nowhere.  So you keep on asking: “What can I do?  I still feel that I am not good enough.”  Forget yourself, forget all about yourself.  Of course you are not good enough, you never will be good enough. The Christian way of salvation tells you this, that it does not matter what you have been, it does not matter what you have done.  How can I put this plainly?  I try to say it from the pulpit every Sunday because I think it is the thing that is robbing most people of the joy of the Lord.  It does not matter if you have almost entered into the depths of hell, if you are guilty of murder as well as every other vile sin, it does not matter from the standpoint of being justified with God.  You are no more hopeless than the most respectable self-righteous person in the world.  Do you believe that?

I’ve had very similar conversations with many people myself.  I’m sure many pastors have.  In a very real sense, the secret to our joy is our embracing justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone apart from any work whatsoever.  All of our salvation is bound up in a Person and His Work on behalf of sinners, given freely to all those who believe.  We lose joy when we lose sight of this.  We fertilize the ground of our joy when we till this truth into our hearts and minds.  We are great sinners with an even greater Savior.  That’s the seed of joy!

It would be interesting to have Lloyd-Jones join the recent blog discussions about indicatives and imperatives in the pursuit of sanctification.  It strikes me that Lloyd-Jones might not “side” with either supposed camp or emphasis.  He wouldn’t say that we need a tighter embrace of the indicatives and justification by faith alone.  Nor would he simply say that we need to move on to the use of means and a more faithful pursuit of commands.  Before he reconciled either of those points, Lloyd-Jones would say to the Christian that we need a deeper conviction of our sin before a holy God.  Until we’re flat on the ground before God because of our sin, we’re not sufficiently prepared to derive full joy out of either the free justification offered through Christ or the life of sanctification that necessarily follows true justification.  Our difficulty begins farther up stream in our sinfulness.  But having seen our depravity, we can then look to the Remedy and receive it with joy!  Gladness happens when we recognize what Jesus has saved us from–ourselves.

Rom. 3:28: “Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the Law.”  That’s a sentence worth shouting about!

The question is: Is conviction of our sin a wellspring of joy in the justifying work of Christ?

I had forgotten one of the reasons I love Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones’ preaching–his straight-forward, systematic, logical statement of things.  Lloyd-Jones marches through an argument, assembling texts and data the way you’d expect a physician to assemble test results in forming a diagnosis and treatment.  In fact, Dr. Lloyd-Jones described his own preaching in much the same way:

I started with the man whom I wanted to listen, the patient. It was a medical approach really–here is a patient, a person in trouble, an ignorant man who has been to quacks, and so I deal with all that in the introduction. I wanted to get the listener and then come to my exposition. [Typical Welsh preachers] started with their exposition and ended with a bit of application.  (see Ian Murray’s, D. Martin Lloyd-Jones: The First Forty Years, pp. 146-147)

So, we should not be surprised that the opening two chapters in Lloyd-Jones’ great work, Spiritual Depression, begin with the clinician’s approach.  Chapter 1, “General Consideration,” gives us a basic overview spiritual depression.  Using Psalm 42:5, 11 as his text, Lloyd-Jones provides two reasons for the importance of the topic: (1) “for the sake of those who are in this condition, in order that they may be delivered from unhappiness, this disquiet, this lack of ease, this tension, this troubled state…” and (2) “for the sake of the Kingdom of God and the glory of God” (p. 11).  Here we see the preacher’s dual focus–help the people and advance the kingdom of our Lord.  Those two aims should motivate any sermon.

With this as his stated aim, Lloyd-Jones moves on to consider the general causes of spiritual depression.

1.  ”First and foremost I would not hesitate to put–temperament” (p. 14).

2.  ”Let us pass to the second big cause–physical conditions” (p. 18).

3.  ”Another frequent cause of spiritual depression is what we may describe as a reaction–a reaction after a blessing, a reaction after some unusual and exceptional experience” (p. 19).

4.  ”Then we come to the next cause.  In a sense, and in the last analysis, that is the one and only cause of spiritual depression–it is the devil, the adversary of our souls” (p. 19).

5.  ”Indeed I can put it, finally, like this: the ultimate cause of all spiritual depression is unbelief” (p. 20).

My aim in these posts is not to give a full summary of the sermons (better that you read or listen to them personally).  Rather, I’m trying to benefit my own soul by prayerful reflection on the sermons, some of which I’ll share from time-to-time on the blog.  This isn’t morbid introspection–which Lloyd-Jones warns against–not is it lurid, detail exhibition–which we have too much of in the culture.  But it’s one man thinking out loud about some aspects of his own soul, hoping those things I can share will be a help and encouragement to others.  So here goes….

I’m certain that I’ve experienced spiritual languish at various seasons for each of these causes.  Of the five general causes Lloyd-Jones mentions, the first probably rang loudest to my soul.

I know that my own fight for a more expressive joy involves a fight against myself, against my “wiring.”  In temperament, I tend toward seriousness, quiet, and reflection.  Moreover, I’m an introvert.  I love people (a definite work of Christ in my life), but I lose rather than gain energy in social interactions (unlike my lovely wife who grows stronger and stronger the more people time she meets.  Never go to the grocery store with the woman!).  Lloyd-Jones’ inclusion of temperament reminds us we’re different kinds of people.  Some of us have natural temperaments that predispose us to spiritual depression.  As the Doctor points out, “temperament, psychology and make-up do not make the slightest difference in the matter of our salvation;… we are all saved the same way, by the same act of God in and through His Son, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ…” but our temperament “does make a very great difference in actual experience in the Christian life” (p. 15).

That’s helpful application (and a helpful model of application in preaching).  We sometimes imagine Christians to be more or less the same kind of being.  We imagine that anyone saved by the grace of God ought to be joyful and basically impervious to spiritual depression.  While we might expect that Christians “ought to be joyful,” we should not expect that Christians “ought to naturally be joyful.”  That little word “naturally” presupposes the same basic temperament for all Christians.  But in truth we come in a variety of temperaments, which means that some will have to fight their nature for consistent and expressive joy.  It also means that expressions of joy will vary in type and intensity from Christian to Christian.  Lloyd-Jones’ simple acknowledgement of differing personalities allows more of his audience and readers to see their place in the Christian family and it empathizes with their fight for joy.

Lloyd-Jones points out that the existence of varying temperaments means “there is nothing which is quite so important as that we should without delay, and as quickly as possible, get to know ourselves” (p. 15).  Men are not machines and we do not face life with the same experiences, backgrounds, talents, or personalities.  The difficulties, problems, and perplexities we face “are in a large measure determined by the difference of temperament and type.”  He asks us to ask ourselves: “Do we know ourselves?  Do we know our own particular danger?  Do we know the thing to which we are particularly subject?” (pp. 17-18).

Those, I find, are important questions.  If we find ourselves repeatedly tripped up into spiritual depression, it may indicate we’re not familiar with our own hearts and states of mind.  We may not be familiar enough with how our temperaments enhance or inhibit our joy.  Do we know makes us tick, and what makes us stick?  That’s the first step in fighting for joy.  And it’s a good first step because it allows us to build walls and fences, keeping the good in and the problematic out.  ”Like a city whose walls are broken down is a man who lacks self-control” (Prov. 25:28).  If we don’t know ourselves, we can’t control ourselves.  And like an unfortified city, we’re subject to be over-run by every emotion and spiritual state, including spiritual depression.  When I’m attentive to myself, to my state of mind and my emotional reactions, I’m far better able to protect myself from unwanted depressions and to live in a more consistent and expressive joy.

I also benefited from Lloyd-Jones’ discussion of the second big cause–physical condition.  In short, I need to take better care of myself physically by eating well, exercising, and resting.  No question: When I’m in poor shape, I feel it spiritually.  When I’m in better shape, I feel better.  I don’t need to prolong this point; I need to get outside and exercise!

So, I’m already thankful for Lloyd-Jones’ Spiritual Depression.  I’m reminded of some issues I need to address, and see some solutions I want to apply.  Looking forward to more prayerful reading of these sermons.

Of the five things Lloyd-Jones identifies, what would be the area of greatest concern for you?

I’ve begun reading the book I most wanted to read during vacation, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones’ Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cures.  Recently a new friend gave me a hardback copy published by Granted Ministries.  It’s a handsome volume with an insightful foreword by Geoffrey Thomas.

I know, I’m late to the Spiritual Depression party.  I’ve heard it quoted often.  Many people have shared personal testimonies about how much it’s helped them.  And on the strength of the quotes (often extended), the personal recommendation of friends, and my general love and trust for Lloyd-Jones, I’ve recommended the book a number of times myself.  But until now, I’ve actually never read it.  I’m excited to be correcting that omission over the next couple days.  And along the way, I’m equally excited to hear the good Doctor’s original sermons that became this classic treatise on the Christian life.

So, over the next few days, Lord willing, I hope to post some reflections and thoughts as I read through the book.  Today, I want to offer a brief summary of Thomas’ biographical foreword and Lloyd-Jones’ brief preface.

Thomas, a faithful Welsh minister himself, gives us a helpful introduction to Lloyd-Jones and his counseling philosophy in eight summary statements.  As much as a biographical introduction to Lloyd-Jones, Thomas’ summary gives us insight into Lloyd-Jones’ dependence upon the word of God as the means of change and growth.    Below are the eight major headers and a couple sentences from those sections used by Thomas to introduce us to Lloyd-Jones:

1.  He was such a well-rounded, intelligent, and tender personality. Although a mighty intellect with a formidable presence he was accessible and not at all intimidating.  There was not a trace of snobbery in him whatsoever; he loathed that sin.

2.  He was also utterly committed to the faith of the Scriptures. Confessionally he stood in the tradition of the 1823 Confession of the Calvinistic Methodist Church of Wales.  In 1952 he began a series of sermons on Friday nights which was to last for three years on the Great Doctrines of the Bible.  They have been published in an 800 page book and they show his grasp of the subtlety of biblical theology, his total trust in the teaching of the Bible and his desire that all his thinking should be controlled by it.

If I might, I want to commend Lloyd-Jones’ Great Doctrines of the Bible (Crossway) to anyone interested in (a) studying their Bible’s more systematically, (b) interested in getting to know the Doctor, or (c) interested in learning to preach doctrine with light and passion.  Through these volumes, Lloyd-Jones became my first teacher in systematics.  I will forever sing God’s praises for leading me to purchase these volumes as the first books I read as a new Christian.

3.  He was a man who maintained the disciplines of private devotion. He had from the early days of his ministry adopted Robert Murray M’Cheyne’s daily Bible passage as his own…. (pdf | app)

4.  He was a man to whom people went for spiritual help. Thomas includes this instruction on counseling from Lloyd-Jones to a gathering of medical doctors:

“What is needed is great patience and sympathy, and the power to put oneself in those people’s situation.  The adviser must not hold to his own rigid position otherwise the man will simply become a tangent to a closed circle.  The adviser may end by feeling that he has taken the ‘Christian stand’ and said all that was right.  He may feel happy; but he may, by this very fact, have left the person in extreme misery.  This is obviously bad counseling.  The point is that we must be very careful not to foist our opinions on others.  The counsellor is not a dictator, he is simply there to give help.  While he may give his views and, with care, put them quite strongly if asked, yet all that is put to the patient must be in a spirit of real sympathy, love and understanding.  As counsellors we must never be in the position of dictating to another person’s conscience.  We have no right to imagine ourselves as ‘the conscience’ of another!  We are there to share with those who consult us experience, knowledge, wisdom and suggestions concerning the way of cure.  There are, unfortunately, Christians who feel it their duty to impose their own legalistic views of others.  Our business, however, is to persuade, never to force.  We must always be careful to avoid condemnation–especially in the case of a sick or agitated person.  If the plain truth of the situation comes home to the patient that is one thing; but it is not our place to condemn.”

5.  He believed in the sufficiency of Scripture. This meant he had confidence that the weekly preaching of the Bible would encourage Christians to understand and appreciate the person and work of Christ, that they would come thus under the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit, and would be so energized by him as to give obedience to the ethical demands of the Word of God.  Preaching the Word in the power of the Spirit, he believed, would itself lift up the downcast–transforming, elevating, ennobling and enriching their lives beyond measure.

6.  He was a man who was prepared to help people in every way he could. He would stay at Westminster Chapel until the last person had been counseled.  He would write letters to people all over the world.  … He also journeyed extensively all over the United Kingdom to support ministers and evangelical causes.

7.  He was a man with a lucidity in explaining the human condition, engaging men’s minds in such an interesting and increasingly gripping manner that the troubles and fears that they had brought with them soon became forgotten distractions. The were being filled with the word of the Lord as they felt themselves addressed by the Lord of the word.  So their cares were put into perspective as God was magnified before them.

I love that second sentence as a partial statement on what should be happening, with God’s blessing, in our preaching.  We should fill the people with the word of the Lord so that the people know they are being addressed by the Lord of the word.  Thomas is exactly correct to see that such preaching puts cares in perspective and magnifies the majesty of God.  As Lloyd-Jones himself said, “I can forgive a man for a bad sermon, I can forgive the preacher almost anything if he gives me a sense of God, if he gives me something for my soul, if he gives me a sense that, though he is inadequate in himself, he is handling something which is very great and very glorious, if he gives me some dim glimpse of the majesty and the glory of God, the love of Christ my Savior, and the magnificence of the Gospel.”

8.  He was a man persuaded that the person who had come to seek his counsels had more knowledge of all the circumstances involved than he himself had. So he would interrogate the inquirer, who might have wanted a straight directive word to his problem, asking him, “Now what do you think?”

Lloyd-Jones writes a short, direct preface to the original volume.  In his foreword, Lloyd-Jones states the reason for preaching these sermons and compiling this volume.  ”Believing as I do that the greatest need of the hour is a revived and joyful Church the subject dealt with in these sermons is to me of greatest possible importance.  Unhappy Christians are, to say the least, a poor recommendation of the Christian Faith; and there can be little doubt but that the exuberant joy of the early Christians was one of the most potent factors in the spread of Christianity.”  Lloyd-Jones preached these sermons, he says, “‘for the common people’ and those who are in need of help’.”  It’s my pastoral experience that “the common people,” everyday Christians, which is to say all of us, need from time to time biblical help to acquire spiritual joy.  That spiritual joy goes hand-in-hand with flowering revival.

For my own joy and revival, I’m looking forward to prayerfully and meditatively reading Spiritual Depression.  For those new to Spiritual Depression and Lloyd-Jones, you might enjoy this trailer for the book.

Well, I’m still on vacation, which means I’m still alternating periods of swimming with the kids, reading by the beach, and drooling through naps.  I’ve decided that a “good vacation” for me includes frequently asking, “What day is it again?”, and memories of my boyhood.  Today’s memory: hot summer days without air conditioning in humid N.C. lying on the floor in front of a box fan.  Those were the good ol’ days (lazy days).

On this lazy day (with air conditioning!  Some things–like N.C. humidity and box fans–only need to be fondly remembered!) I’ve completed reading Anthony Bradley‘s book, Liberating Black Theology: The Bible and the Black Experience in America (Crossway, 2010).  Ordinarily theological critiques don’t make my vacation reading list.  I’m usually more interested in fiction and “lighter” reads.  But Bradley’s work zoomed to the top of my reading pile when I received a copy of Dwight N. Hopkins’ unfavorable review of the book.  Hopkins might be regarded as the successor to James Cone as the leading proponent of Black Theology.  Ahhh… a theological food fight I can’t resist.  So, having read Bradley, I thought I’d offer a brief review of Liberating Black Theology and a brief response to Hopkins’ review.

Liberating Black Theology

Premise.  On the whole, Bradley writes as a well-read critic of Black Theology (BT) interested in seeing this field of theology reformed according the Scripture.  Bradley believes that BT, as formulated by Cone in the 1970s, was doomed to fail because it abandoned biblical presuppositions in favor of black victimology and an inadequate cultural and theological view of man (anthropology).  ”This book suggests that for any black theology to serve the black church in the future, it must be formulated within biblically constrained presuppositions.”  Bradley contends, “Black theology has a future only if it presupposes the triune God and seeks to interpret the black experience through the lens of the whole of Scripture” (p. 15).

Liberating Black Theology does not offer the reader a broad review of BT, but focuses more specifically on BT’s definition of “Blackness” and the black experience and its use of sources for doing theology other than the Scripture.  At points, Bradley leans heavily on John McWhorter‘s definition of black victimology and Thomas Sowell‘s critique of Marxism as an inadequate alternative for liberating the oppressed, the central aim of BT.

Organiztion.  Bradley addresses the subject in six chapters:

1. Setting the Stage: Defining Terms and Theological Distinctions
2. America the Broken: Cone’s Sociopolitical Ethical Context
3. Cone’s Theological Scaffolding
4. Victimology in the Marxist Ethics of Black Theology
5. Biblical Interpretation and the Black Experience
6. Is There a Future for Black Liberation Theology?

With this organization, one expects Bradley to move from a general introduction of Black Theology, to a program of evaluation and critique, to a proposal for the future.

Strengths. Bradley shows familiarity with the widening body of BT and its contributors. On the whole, he takes the writers he surveys seriously and responds charitably. Liberating Black Theology includes a helpful engagement with the Marxist underpinnings of BT, bringing the writings of Marx (via Thomas Sowell) into dialogue with BT. Ultimately, Bradley calls on Marx to invalidate some of the claims made by Cone and Cornel West. I haven’t seen this done as effectively and concisely as Bradley manages in Liberating Black Theology.

In my opinion, Bradley is strongest in chapters 4-6, where he steps back from Black Theology to offer some solutions for going forward. Bradley’s own theological convictions come forward with clarity and insight. I especially appreciated the analysis of Marxism (chap. 4) and his engagement with BT’s hermeneutical approach (chap. 5). Chapter 5 helps us see that we can and ought to raise many of the contextual concerns of BT without throwing the baby of sound biblical hermeneutics and contextualization out with the bath water of historical abuses of Scripture and indifference to African-American concerns. Bradley serves us well at this point. Chapter 6 gives us a series of critiques offered by others inside and outside BT. The range of responses help elucidate some foundational problems in BT and set the stage for Bradley’s contention that BT can only be resuscitated if it moves to firmer biblical presuppositions.

Weaknesses. Though charitable throughout, Bradley’s critique of BT–especially his introduction of victimology–begins far too early in the book. For example, the opening chapter, “Setting the Stage: Defining Terms and Theological Distinctions,” begins with only five paragraphs answering the question “What is Black Theology” immediately followed by three pages of Bradley’s introduction of “victimology.” The reader doesn’t feel he’s been properly introduced to BT before being moved on to Bradley’s criticism. While Bradley summarizes key ideas in BT throughout the first couple chapters, he rarely summarizes BT without inserting his victimology critique. I felt proponents of BT might have been better represented if the victimology construct had been left for a later chapter, after presenting black theologians “in their own words.” I suspect that most proponents of BT will not regard themselves as perpetuating “victimology” in the way Bradley via McWhorter contends, and therefore may find Bradley’s correct critique too easy to dismiss.

I also found myself wanting Bradley to articulate the biblical gospel in sharper contrast to the “gospels” offered in BT. I was surprised, given how radically BT distorts “the gospel” as liberation along economic, social, political, gender, and sexual lines, that Bradley gave very little space to saying “this is what the gospel is according to the Bible.” If there is a revision in the future, I hope the author will give greater attention to this issue.

A Question. Finally, I’m left wondering, “Why should Black Theology be revived as Bradley seems to suggest it ought?” To be clear, Bradley regards the Conian approach to BT dead from inception because it abandons orthodox Christian formulations. I agree with Bradley in this assessment. But why try to breathe life into something so radically contrary to biblical Christianity? The contribution of BT is its effort to raise questions that theologians from other ethnic backgrounds fail to raise. The questions are legitimate. But we don’t need BT to raise them. As Bradley points out, the questions have more to do with application and contextualization rather than exegesis and hermeneutics (where BT situates the questions and Black experience as the controlling principle of interpretation). Given that, aren’t we better off letting dead dogs lie in order to move on with appropriate responses to these important questions? I think so.

Beyond the necessary questions themselves (“How does the gospel of Jesus Christ speak to the particular experiences of African Americans?”), BT provides little help to us and rests on a Bible-denying, anti-Christian foundation. Surely our energies are better invested in consructive proposals, which Bradley gives attention to in his closing. I wish he had given more ink to offering us a more detailed statement on the way forward.

Conclusion. If you’re looking for a premier on Black Theology, perhaps Bruce L. Fields’ Introducing Black Theology: Three Crucial Questions would be a better starting place. If you’re looking for a more thorough critique of BT’s view of man, Marxist underpinnings, and hermeneutics, then I highly commend Bradley’s Liberating Black Theology. Bradley gives us a smooth read and penetrating insight into a deadly flaw in BT.

Responding to Dwight Hopkins

Hopkins begins his review and critique of Liberating Black Theology with an ad hominem attack.  He doesn’t deal with Bradley’s statements about the weaknesses of BT.  Instead, he questions Bradley’s bona fides as a black man.  Hopkins writes:

In the opening of his work, Bradley mentions his research focus on Black theology of liberation (BLT) for the last ten years. The back of his book describes his affiliation as a visiting professor of theology at the King’s College, New York and as a research fellow at the Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty. Yet, though he claims his decade of expertise in BLT, his identity and his community remain a mystery. To what country does he belong (i.e., Germany, Greece, etc.)? Is he a Christian or a member of a church? What is his group of accountability—Black liberation theologians, pastors, lay people, clergy, or administrators? Is he familiar with Black church ministries?

Finally, Hopkins’ critique of Bradley illustrates why Bradley’s work needs to be more intentional and precise in articulating the biblical gospel of Jesus Christ.  Consider the second and fourth fallacies Hopkins sees in Bradley’s book:

The second fallacy is an unfamiliarity with Black American churches that preach and practice Jesus’ Good News for poor, working-class, and marginalized communities, especially, but not exclusively, in urban areas and ghettoized suburban spaces. Jesus gives hope and joy to these people that God is with them in oppressive structural situations and in personal emotional predicaments. Furthermore, what these churches claim is a celebration of God’s connection with them through Christ Jesus and the ongoing presence of the Holy Spirit. That is to say, despite it all, “joy comes in the morning.”

Fourth, the book is weak on theology. Theology is part of the Church in that it works in the Church and calls it to be accountable and faithful to the life of Jesus Christ. With a weak theological understanding, the writer misconstrues BLT. BLT has never said it would be the leader in transforming America or personal sins. Originating in the Church, BLT challenges the Church to have faith in God’s word. That Word, Jesus, offered creation a divine mission and a human mission. Lk. 4:16–21. give Jesus’ self-identified earthly mission—to be with the poor, oppressed, and the abused. And in Matt. 25:31–46, Jesus tells us explicit criteria to enter heaven—our earthly mission to be with the poor, oppressed, and the abused. The reason God sent Jesus to earth was to fight the kingdom of Satan, sin, and suffering and to realize a new liberated and saved life for creation. The Hebrew Scriptures say Yahweh God heard the cries of suffering and poverty of slaves in material oppression. Yahweh worked with them to liberate them from oppression and helped them to reach a new life of milk and honey on earth.

Notice that Hopkins equates the Good News with Christ’s comfort of those in suffering and the eradication of “oppressive structural situations and … personal emotional predicaments,” reminding them that their suffering won’t always last (2nd fallacy). Then, he contends that Jesus “tells us explicit criteria to enter heaven—our earthly mission to be with the poor, oppressed, and the abused” (4th fallacy). We must regard this as “another gospel,” which really is no “gospel” at all.

Those of us critical of BT, must be sure to keep the main thing the main thing. However useful we may find some questions and challenges posed by BT, we should never leave unstated how it is God reconciles sinners to himself, redeeming them from sin, justifying them in His holy presence, and glorifying them with himself. He does it on the sole basis of Jesus’ active obedience and atoning sacrifice on the cross, through the Son of God’s glorious resurrection, and our union with Christ through faith in Him. We enter heaven by God’s grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone–not by works we have done, including our care for the poor and marginalized. This, the Bible tells us, is “of first importance.” May all of our writing guard and advance this Good News.

I’m on day three of a two week vacation.  Vacations for me generally include a big dose of fiction reading.  I’ve loved fiction since my college African-American fiction classes.  I took all the courses I could take, including weaseling my way into a couple graduate courses as an under-graduate.  Great stuff.  Taught me how to read, really.

Anyway, this summer’s vacation includes the New York Times‘ bestseller, The Help, by Kathryn Stockett.  The Help represents Stockett’s first foray into novels, and I’d have to say she’s made a good entrance into the genre with a bestseller and a movie based upon the book.

The Basics.  At 522 pages, The Help reads very quickly and smoothly.  Even Stockett’s use of vernacular feels natural rather than strained.  The novel recounts the lives of six women in 1960s Jackson, MS.  Four of the women are white, two black.  The two African American women, Aibilene and Minny, work as maids in the homes of Jackson’s white families.  Aibilene is the older, calmer, wiser maid who loves the children she cares for.  Minny is the younger, sassy, often fired maid and mother of five children of her own.  Twenty-three year old Skeeter Phelan plays the white female protagonist who feels alien to her native Jackson after studying literature and journalism at Ole Miss.  She pals around with Hilly Holbrook, domineering socialite, and Elizabeth Leefolt, who jumps at Hilly’s every beckon call attempting to keep her tenuous hold on her homespun standing in Jackson’s social circles.  Aibilene works for Mrs. Leefolt and Minny opens the book working for Hilly Holbrook and her aging mother.  Finally, there is Celia Foote, “white trash” married up, trying desperately to break into the closely-guarded social circle of Jackson elites.  These relationships get too messy and too close as Skeeter Phelan, wanting to change her life and Jackson, entices Aibileen and Minny to participate in a tell-all book about what it’s like to work for Jackson’s white families.  From there, life becomes a matter of avoiding the danger of being caught betraying confidences in a world where failing to tip your hat at a white lady can get you beaten, killed, and submerged in the bottom of a Mississippi river.

Is The Help worthy of the hype?  You decide.  But here’s a few things I appreciated.

Stockett’s courage.  Perhaps the most difficult thing to do as a fiction writer is enter the thoughts, feelings, hopes, and fears of people not like you.  In The Help, Stockett attempts to cross “race,” class, social, and chronological barriers.  Writing about African-American domestics and the women they support in 1960s Mississippi requires great imagination and observation.  I think Stockett largely succeeds.  I suspect the difficulty includes avoiding easy stereotypes–mammy, aunt Jemima, Sapphire, and others.

The Characters’ Courage.  I love that Stockett chose to write about women who demonstrated amazing courage in a perilous time.  The story’s major action takes place during a period of assassinations–Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy–and protests–Woolworth sit-ins and the march on Washington.  Stockett gives the reader a sense of the world’s rapid changes outside of Mississippi, while life in Mississippi grinds seemingly unchanged.  Of course, that means life remains incredibly dangerous for African Americans in general and Black maids revealing the secrets of their white employers in particular.  In this swirling context of potential change and life-threatening danger, 13 maids in Jackson, MS decide to participate in a clandestine expose.  Might not sound like much to us now, but then it was mortally risky.  They dress their courage in white maids’ uniforms, not capes and superhero costumes.  We’re reminded that small acts of defiance and courage have their own way of working change.  I appreciated these heroines far more than the so-called fallen superheroes appearing on movie screens around the world.

Society.  The book is a study in the fear of man.  Stockett exposes how “what people think” drove the relationships and life choices of the 1960s South–and indeed so much of life today.  Hilly Holbrook represents the opinion machine and gossip mill that “mattered” in segregated life.  With one misplaced word of sympathy or sass, with one out-of-place dress or courting relationship, with one step across the imaginary color barrier an entire life could be made or ruined.  Society exacted an incredible tax for not “keeping your place.”  That tax continues to be paid in different but plentiful ways as we live “under the law” of other people’s assessments.  The book is worth reading if for no other reason than the reminder that popularity and public opinion are bondage.  We’re meant to live for an audience of One.

Honesty.  The truth is less interesting than our racial imaginations.  We imagine that “the other” is all witch, all evil, or all beast. The 1960s South relied heavily on these broad fear-based stereotypes.  One of the main characters, Hilly Holbrook, traded in these caricatures big time.  But, honestly, most relationships included some good even in the midst of injustice.  In some ways, some domestics were practically family.  But at the same time, there were lines drawn, lines that could not be crossed without repercussions.  The lines were uneven, of course.  Whites were privileged–even poor whites–and Blacks were oppressed.  Romantics like to imagine everyone wanted it that way and life was pretty happy.  Radicals like to imagine that every African American was a revolutionary.  The truth lies in the middle.  Life included a lot of hardship and fear, but also some healthy doses of God’s grace and goodness.  Stockett tries to capture this more complex reality.  In doing so, she tells us a lot about ourselves, both how kindred we all are across every conceivable barrier, and how much we could have together if we would dare to cross some lines.  In that way, the book both tells the uneasy, risky truth and gives some much-needed, accessible hope.

Memories.  The book brought back some memories for me.  My mother worked part-time as a domestic for an elderly white woman named… well, let’s change the name to protect everybody.  That was a confusing time for me.  On the one hand, I hated my mother working “for that white woman.”  I found the entire idea demeaning, a throw-back to Jim Crow, a capitulation to already vanishing racial codes.  I couldn’t bear the thought of my mother cleaning behind “that woman” and her family.  But on the other hand, my mother hovered somewhere between necessity and affection.  She seemed to genuinely like the woman, and we needed the money.  When we didn’t need the money, my mom still visited and helped at times.  It baffled me.  The book stirred some of those memories, which indicates that Stockett wasn’t far from the reality.  And that makes sense given that Stockett’s motivation for the book included memories of the helper, Demetrie McLorn, who cared for her during her tender years.

Thanksgiving.  I’m glad the world of 1960s Jackson, MS does not exist any more.  The things Stockett dramatizes occurred just a few years before I was born.  So much good has happened since then.  So much progress has occurred.  To be certain, there is no Utopia and we don’t live in it.  But, the Lord has allowed so much growth and change it’s difficult to imagine that the segregated South was a bit over 40 years ago.  Things do change.  People do change.  Praise God!

Application.  Finally, The Help helps me to think about where I currently live.  The Cayman Islands don’t have the racial segregation history of the American South.  Praise God.  But we do have quite a number of domestic workers here in Cayman–largely Jamaican and Filipino women serving many of the families on this island.  Many of these women live lives a lot like those fictional women in The Help.  Seems plausible to me that some of these domestic helpers might have similar stories to tell.  I suspect many families who read this book will be helped to care for their nannies and helpers in a far better way.  At least I hope they will.

Conclusion.  If you’re looking for a good novel set in an important historical era, I commend The Help to you.  There are about two-dozen expletives throughout the book.  But apart from that, Stockett has given us a clean, honest look at ourselves through the lives of the characters she creates.