Today, the sermon my Dad preached was on the importance of discernment from 1 Thessalonians 5:21 "Test all things; hold fast what is good." (NKJV). Since the only other family who attends our church (an older couple) were out of town on vacation and my youngest sister and Mom were both at home, too sick to come, his entire audience consisted of my college-age sister Audrey and me. He said that discernment was especially important to us. We were (are, and have) entering a whole new world of ideas we had not yet been exposed to. He also said that discernment was something on the decline among Christians in America in general.
He sited three examples of this. The first was the seeker-sensitive church, which is growing in popularity these days. Now, there's nothing necessarily wrong with a church that seeks to be welcoming to the unsaved--so long as it welcomes them so that they may hear the gospel and be saved from their sins. Some seeker-sensitive churches have overdone this welcome and forgotten its purpose, welcoming the unsaved from every walk of life and in every form of debatchery and making them feel as though God is perfectly happy to let them remain just as they are, sins and all. This is not the truth of the gospel and it erodes the foundations of such churches. Second was the rise of Christian mysticism, which he held to be something totally bad. He defined mysticism as basing one's faith on subjective experiences and feelings. Such a faith was completely subjective and utterly immune to doctrine and scriptural correction. If a mystic of this vein decided that God wanted him to marry his mother-in-law and sacrifice his kids to cows, there would be nothing anyone could say against it so long as the mystic "felt" that it was right between him and God to do so. The third example he warned of was parachurch organizations, specifically in the realm of publishing. While these organizations can build reputations for publishing doctrinally and scripturally correct books, they can be (and sometimes are) lured by the profitability of less wholesome spiritual books. Thus, one should not judge a book by its publishing company but make a careful testing of its content as well.
I had a mixed reaction to his sermon. I agreed, of course, that discernment is very important and that in the age of political correctness, tolerance, and diversity good spiritual discernment is going out of style. I also disapproved of the practices of these unnamed book publishers, who, in addition to using their resources to blaze about damnable heresies, are also practicing just-plain bad business. Publishers have an excellent opportunity for branding with thier books. A reputation for sound doctrine and spiritually wholesome material could take years to build up for a publishing brand. As such, it is far too valuable to be wasted by letting one heretical book slip through--especially as the heretical book will not appeal to the nitch market the publishers have so carefully courted but only the mass market where the publisher will quickly be out-competed and lose significant profit margins...followed by its devoted (or should I say formerly-devoted) nitch market, who will feel they can no longer trust a publishing brand that carries such a deplorable book (and rightly so).
Yes, I'm a business major, so I'm a nerd about these things.
My other reaction was much more personal. When my father was describing and denouncing mysticism, he could hardly know that I, his son, considered himself a mystic. I was appalled at the definitions my father applied to mysticism, which fit better with relativism (an altogether different matter) in my mind. I was afraid to speak up, but nevertheless I did, in the end. I told him that I considered myself a mystic and, although I based my faith on scripture and held to doctrine, I did enjoy many "experiences and feelings" of God. He asked me to be more specific and, put on the spot, I was unable to answer. I don't talk about these sorts of things hardly ever, and certainly not with people who don't seem to have anything similar in their own life (I'm afraid I'll either sound crazy or super-spiritual, neither of which I am or want to be taken as). Even when I do talk of them, I hardly know what to say. How does one go about putting the inexpressable in words? It is beyond me. In the end, my father said that my experiences and all were fine, as long as they were not the basis of my faith, since they are, at best, of uncertain origin and subject to personal interpretation--two pitfalls of which I am keenly aware.
So, as I've gone about the rest of my day, I've wondered, what is it that my faith is based on? What function do my mystical experiences play and what role does scripture, doctrine, and the intellect hold? I have not really sorted all these questions out. I know my experiences, which vary widely, serve a wide variety of purposes in my spiritual life. They comfort me, challenge me, direct me, and confirm me in my faith (more of this in "My Unconventional Relationship" series posted this June). Yet they are not the basis of my faith. Scripture grounds me and helps me to sort through my thoughts and feelings--to test them and hold fast to what is good. From scripture I have learned doctrine and using scripture I have tested doctrine itself (and found some doctrines wanting). Yet, while I hold to scriptura sola as a Protestant, I do not find that the basis of my faith is, at bottom, the Bible itself.
My faith is built on nothing less than the person of Jesus Christ, my God and Savior. Without Him and His Spirit, the Bible is--in the end--just words on a page. Think about it, if there is no God, or if He is not at all Who we understand Him to be, of what good is the Bible? Of what good is the Bible even now in the hands of those who do not know and refuse to know God? I have known far too many people who have based their faith on their ability to understand the Bible (often with the help of some supposedly divinely appointed organization, such as the Watchtower Society of the Jehovah's Witnesses or the Prophets of the Mormon Church). These people had the Bible. I went through the Bible with them and they read it, but when they left they did not have God. Without the Author, the words themselves are just that: words, and any amount of studying and memorizing them cannot bring one (in themselves) to a right relationship with their Maker.
One might argue that a better basis, in light of this, is doctrine, and a correct understanding of Scripture. Doctrines, by themselves, though, are dry. Further, who can claim to have it all together, doctrinally? Let me rephrase that: who can truly say they correctly understand every word of the Bible? Perhaps some people are so bold as to make that claim, but I do not. There is a lot there in the Bible and there is a lot I don't understand. There are doctrines I'm not entirely sure of, such as the working out of predestination and free-will. I know that both are real, but I've never been able to figure out just how they work together. If my faith is built on my correct understranding of scripture and doctrine, my faith must never be complete and must remain forever dry and intellectual.
Works give our faith legs, and works of righteousness are definately something that God has prepaired for us in our spiritual lives (Ephesians 2:10), but these are not a suitable basis for our faith. From scripture and doctrine, we know that our faith is not born of works (Ephesians 2:8-9). Further my own experience has taught me that basing one's faith even partially on one's own work sets up an enormous burden of performance and guilt (for the constant failures of our own nature), which never lets up and from which we can never escape. At bottom, I find that we cannot live up to anyone's standard of righteousness, not even our own and certainly not God's. God is, further, not interested in us for what we can do for Him. He has all the power and knowledge of the universe, after all: it's not like He needs us to do everything for Him.
In the end, the only solid basis for my faith--and the true foundation it rests on--is Christ Jesus in His own person. God never changes, never lies, and never changes His mind, so my faith and my relationship with Him is totally secure. It cannot be shaken because I haven't had a particular feeling of His nearness lately (though I do crave these feelings--it's impossible to describe how wonderful they are!). It isn't broken because I find I can't understand a passage or verse (though I do want to understand what it is He's said in His Word--after all, He said it!). It isn't lesser than the faith and relationship of someone else who's read the Bible in a year and memorized Psalms (my Christ is the same as their Christ--though I do enjoy reading the Bible over and over again and learning about Him this way). It isn't incomplete because I don't understand every doctrine (though this can be useful) or understand some of them wrong (it is Christ that matters, Who also was preached by the apostles of old). It isn't destroyed when I sin (though I really don't want to sin), for Christ remains sinless and interceeds for me. Christ is further the only thing that will endure, the only thing, ultimately, worth seizing in Christianity and all the world. As for the Bible, for all I know every copy may be burned up when this world is destroyed by fire in the end--and I don't know if it will continue to exist "when that which is perfect is come" (1 Corinthians 13:9-10). When that time comes, I know that all our incomplete and inadiquate doctrines and understandings will surely be no more. In that day also, works will cease (John 9:4) and be complete--and with what or how (or even if) we shall busy ourselves in the eternity thereafter has not yet been revealed. As for my feelings and experiences, I know that these also, though pleasurable, are incomplete, a shadow of things to come. I feel a tingle, and it is as if my LORD embraced me, but I see nothing. I know He is there and I am partly aware of His presence, but it will not alwayse be so. "For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12). Christ will remain, and He is my hope and my reward (Genesis 15:1).
He sited three examples of this. The first was the seeker-sensitive church, which is growing in popularity these days. Now, there's nothing necessarily wrong with a church that seeks to be welcoming to the unsaved--so long as it welcomes them so that they may hear the gospel and be saved from their sins. Some seeker-sensitive churches have overdone this welcome and forgotten its purpose, welcoming the unsaved from every walk of life and in every form of debatchery and making them feel as though God is perfectly happy to let them remain just as they are, sins and all. This is not the truth of the gospel and it erodes the foundations of such churches. Second was the rise of Christian mysticism, which he held to be something totally bad. He defined mysticism as basing one's faith on subjective experiences and feelings. Such a faith was completely subjective and utterly immune to doctrine and scriptural correction. If a mystic of this vein decided that God wanted him to marry his mother-in-law and sacrifice his kids to cows, there would be nothing anyone could say against it so long as the mystic "felt" that it was right between him and God to do so. The third example he warned of was parachurch organizations, specifically in the realm of publishing. While these organizations can build reputations for publishing doctrinally and scripturally correct books, they can be (and sometimes are) lured by the profitability of less wholesome spiritual books. Thus, one should not judge a book by its publishing company but make a careful testing of its content as well.
I had a mixed reaction to his sermon. I agreed, of course, that discernment is very important and that in the age of political correctness, tolerance, and diversity good spiritual discernment is going out of style. I also disapproved of the practices of these unnamed book publishers, who, in addition to using their resources to blaze about damnable heresies, are also practicing just-plain bad business. Publishers have an excellent opportunity for branding with thier books. A reputation for sound doctrine and spiritually wholesome material could take years to build up for a publishing brand. As such, it is far too valuable to be wasted by letting one heretical book slip through--especially as the heretical book will not appeal to the nitch market the publishers have so carefully courted but only the mass market where the publisher will quickly be out-competed and lose significant profit margins...followed by its devoted (or should I say formerly-devoted) nitch market, who will feel they can no longer trust a publishing brand that carries such a deplorable book (and rightly so).
Yes, I'm a business major, so I'm a nerd about these things.
My other reaction was much more personal. When my father was describing and denouncing mysticism, he could hardly know that I, his son, considered himself a mystic. I was appalled at the definitions my father applied to mysticism, which fit better with relativism (an altogether different matter) in my mind. I was afraid to speak up, but nevertheless I did, in the end. I told him that I considered myself a mystic and, although I based my faith on scripture and held to doctrine, I did enjoy many "experiences and feelings" of God. He asked me to be more specific and, put on the spot, I was unable to answer. I don't talk about these sorts of things hardly ever, and certainly not with people who don't seem to have anything similar in their own life (I'm afraid I'll either sound crazy or super-spiritual, neither of which I am or want to be taken as). Even when I do talk of them, I hardly know what to say. How does one go about putting the inexpressable in words? It is beyond me. In the end, my father said that my experiences and all were fine, as long as they were not the basis of my faith, since they are, at best, of uncertain origin and subject to personal interpretation--two pitfalls of which I am keenly aware.
So, as I've gone about the rest of my day, I've wondered, what is it that my faith is based on? What function do my mystical experiences play and what role does scripture, doctrine, and the intellect hold? I have not really sorted all these questions out. I know my experiences, which vary widely, serve a wide variety of purposes in my spiritual life. They comfort me, challenge me, direct me, and confirm me in my faith (more of this in "My Unconventional Relationship" series posted this June). Yet they are not the basis of my faith. Scripture grounds me and helps me to sort through my thoughts and feelings--to test them and hold fast to what is good. From scripture I have learned doctrine and using scripture I have tested doctrine itself (and found some doctrines wanting). Yet, while I hold to scriptura sola as a Protestant, I do not find that the basis of my faith is, at bottom, the Bible itself.
My faith is built on nothing less than the person of Jesus Christ, my God and Savior. Without Him and His Spirit, the Bible is--in the end--just words on a page. Think about it, if there is no God, or if He is not at all Who we understand Him to be, of what good is the Bible? Of what good is the Bible even now in the hands of those who do not know and refuse to know God? I have known far too many people who have based their faith on their ability to understand the Bible (often with the help of some supposedly divinely appointed organization, such as the Watchtower Society of the Jehovah's Witnesses or the Prophets of the Mormon Church). These people had the Bible. I went through the Bible with them and they read it, but when they left they did not have God. Without the Author, the words themselves are just that: words, and any amount of studying and memorizing them cannot bring one (in themselves) to a right relationship with their Maker.
One might argue that a better basis, in light of this, is doctrine, and a correct understanding of Scripture. Doctrines, by themselves, though, are dry. Further, who can claim to have it all together, doctrinally? Let me rephrase that: who can truly say they correctly understand every word of the Bible? Perhaps some people are so bold as to make that claim, but I do not. There is a lot there in the Bible and there is a lot I don't understand. There are doctrines I'm not entirely sure of, such as the working out of predestination and free-will. I know that both are real, but I've never been able to figure out just how they work together. If my faith is built on my correct understranding of scripture and doctrine, my faith must never be complete and must remain forever dry and intellectual.
Works give our faith legs, and works of righteousness are definately something that God has prepaired for us in our spiritual lives (Ephesians 2:10), but these are not a suitable basis for our faith. From scripture and doctrine, we know that our faith is not born of works (Ephesians 2:8-9). Further my own experience has taught me that basing one's faith even partially on one's own work sets up an enormous burden of performance and guilt (for the constant failures of our own nature), which never lets up and from which we can never escape. At bottom, I find that we cannot live up to anyone's standard of righteousness, not even our own and certainly not God's. God is, further, not interested in us for what we can do for Him. He has all the power and knowledge of the universe, after all: it's not like He needs us to do everything for Him.
In the end, the only solid basis for my faith--and the true foundation it rests on--is Christ Jesus in His own person. God never changes, never lies, and never changes His mind, so my faith and my relationship with Him is totally secure. It cannot be shaken because I haven't had a particular feeling of His nearness lately (though I do crave these feelings--it's impossible to describe how wonderful they are!). It isn't broken because I find I can't understand a passage or verse (though I do want to understand what it is He's said in His Word--after all, He said it!). It isn't lesser than the faith and relationship of someone else who's read the Bible in a year and memorized Psalms (my Christ is the same as their Christ--though I do enjoy reading the Bible over and over again and learning about Him this way). It isn't incomplete because I don't understand every doctrine (though this can be useful) or understand some of them wrong (it is Christ that matters, Who also was preached by the apostles of old). It isn't destroyed when I sin (though I really don't want to sin), for Christ remains sinless and interceeds for me. Christ is further the only thing that will endure, the only thing, ultimately, worth seizing in Christianity and all the world. As for the Bible, for all I know every copy may be burned up when this world is destroyed by fire in the end--and I don't know if it will continue to exist "when that which is perfect is come" (1 Corinthians 13:9-10). When that time comes, I know that all our incomplete and inadiquate doctrines and understandings will surely be no more. In that day also, works will cease (John 9:4) and be complete--and with what or how (or even if) we shall busy ourselves in the eternity thereafter has not yet been revealed. As for my feelings and experiences, I know that these also, though pleasurable, are incomplete, a shadow of things to come. I feel a tingle, and it is as if my LORD embraced me, but I see nothing. I know He is there and I am partly aware of His presence, but it will not alwayse be so. "For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12). Christ will remain, and He is my hope and my reward (Genesis 15:1).
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