Is this the dream?

Hiroo Onoda, a former Japanese soldier who held out against the Americans on a Philippine island until 1974, died a few months ago. After decades of maintaining his loyalty to the emperor, Onoda returned to a country that seemed humiliated and spiritless. When he offered his words to live by in the Japan Times in 2007, he offered these chilling words: "There are some dreams from which it is better not to wake."

That is the mindset of many soldiers who return home from war. They return home from convoys with soldiers in battle rattle to cooler-time conversations amidst a maze of cubicles. They leave causes worth fighting for and people worth dying for and emerge in a society of shallow conversations and pervasive apathy. They are tempted to think, "Is this what I fought for? Or worth returning to?" Is this all worth waking up for?

For some, the war comes home with them. I have one friend who bounces from girl to girl and has lost about half a dozen of his Army buddies--some in the war zone, some not--in the past year or so. He does not need to wake up. He is still living the nightmare.

For others, home is as much a war zone as Afghanistan. I was serving at our two week annual training a few years ago when a buddy approached me late at night, after everyone had fallen asleep. One of his friends from the hood had just died. He cried alongside of me outside until he fell asleep. He later left for war. Rather, he left to continue the war he was already fighting.

One of the hardest realities for soldiers to embrace is that everything at home has largely stayed the same, though they come back totally different, with a world of brokenness now residing in their hearts. They feel like a stranger walking the streets of the neighborhood they once called home.

It doesn't help that our society largely lives in an illusory world. Unlike prior generations, the current generation is perfectly happy to talk about politics or money around the dinner table. Those things don't have ultimate value. But try to get the to open up about evil, suffering, and death. No can do. The painful truth is that soldiers aren't returning home to a populace apathetic to their plight--they return home to a populace that believes that their plight doesn't exist. There is no room in the modern mind for war and the truths that is exposes.

It comes down to this: Though we live in this world, we do not belong to this world. We were made for a world unbroken by sin and unbroken before Him. We need not fear waking up to change--it will always accompany us. But we must yearn to wake up to truth. It is only that truth--that of God's rule and Christ's redemption--that is worth waking up for. We awake and find the dream to be the nightmare, not the reality. The reality is blessedly sweet.

Onoda is right. It is hard to wake from certain dreams--to come back from war and greet a peace we did not know. But now we must seek to escape the war of our souls against God by waking up to the peace we have in Christ's work of reconciliation. Friends, wake up!

Let's Get Ready to Gospellllllll!

There's a new documentary coming out, profiling Church-sponsored fight clubs (including fighting pastors!). The trailer can be found here: http://time.com/48413/fight-church-trailer-pastor-mma/.

This film will provoke controversy, as any film that broaches the topic of Christianity and culture inevitably will. It will also prove difficult to swallow for Christian pacifists, or those who think that Christianity is inherently pacifistic.

But it also begs the question: How should Christians approach culture? To use Machen's threefold distinction, are we to compromise with culture, forfeiting key doctrines of the faith in order to be relevant, capitulate to the culture, assuming it to be inherently evil and thus avoided, or consecrate the culture, seeking to deconstruct false paradigms in order show the only true paradigm with which to understand the world?

Historically, these three approaches have been represented by liberalism, fundamentalism, and confessionalism, respectively.

And where would "Fight Church" fit within these distinctions? It's pretty clear that there's no "tapping out" on engaging culture here--so is this an example of compromising one's faith or consecrating the culture to the glory of God? Keep it above the belt!

(Hat tip to Mama Chris)

Too Much You in Politics

The response is predictable when the Supreme Court rules that money can be spent more freely with regard to politics--a sense of outrage.

Don't people know how much money corrupts politics and politicians in particular?

Don't we realize that we are allowing the rich to have too much influence relative to the "little guy?"

Now "Big _______ (fill in the blank--business, labor, oil, environmentalism)" can pull the levers of power at will.

Note that I am not nor will I weigh in on the case itself, or the issue of money in politics. I have strong opinions on this matter, but have stronger opinions about you and me.

Why is it that we think money will inherently corrupt politicians? Is it because it contains some hidden power within itself? Is the U.S Mint really akin to Mt. Doom, with the money printed there bound to bend the will to the evil forces behind its making?

I know no one believes that money has magical power. I am exaggerating the point in order to highlight what we really do believe--we are wary of the hearts that give money and the hearts that receive money. We find the hearts of both corruptible, especially in the realm of politics.

Lord Acton once said that "Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Behind this great quote still lies the presupposition that hearts are inherently corruptible.

Yet notice the gap between what we virtually all believe and what we say. We realize that behind the things we may loathe in politics--whether in be money in, or pork out, or partisan bickering, or religious affiliations--there is this same fundamental wariness of the human heart.

But when we play the part of activist, we do not go after the human heart. We go after those things that become potential conduits of the heart--corrupted decisions, susceptibility to influence, harsh and bitter words, etc. We attack money and words, which can't fight back. We attack the Koch brothers on the right or George Soros on the left, though we have never met any of them and might find them to be much more civil and charitable than we are.

We attack pieces of paper and men of straw because we are unwilling to accuse the heart. For it we accuse the heart, our fingers will inevitably turn back upon ourselves, forcing us to admit "I have seen the enemy. He is us."

If you are concerned about your congressman, write to him or if you are in the DC area, make an effort to go meet him. Many of them are decent folks. At the very least, you should be praying for him (1 Tim. 2).

But he is also you. Our politicians are our representatives. We empower them with the ability to act on our behalf. If we are wary of the corruption of our politicians, then we should rightly grow wary of the corruption of the human heart--of our own heart--that gives rise to these politicians.

Instead of attacking Big Oil, go plant a tree. Instead of attacking Big Labor, go educate a child.

Before you do any of these things, however, recognize that you share in the same heart disease as everyone else. If you want a renewed Church and/or a renewed culture, then first examine your own heart. Personal renewal comes in the saving work of Christ, who makes you a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17), and transforms you more into His image by His Word (2 Tim. 3; Rom. 10) and Spirit (Col. 3:10; Eph. 4:24).

If you are really concerned about the state of your politician's heart, then stop blaming the money and show the same care and concern for your own heart. The problem will never be that there is too much of this product or that in politics. The problem is that there is too much you in politics.

Favorite Commentators

Yesterday, we looked at several contemporary theologians who are particularly meaningful for me. But theologians are not the only significant figures in helping shape and expose truths of God's Word. We also draw great wisdom from an array of commentators who illuminate portions of God's Word for us.

Five of my favorite contemporary commentators are listed below. As there are different types of commentaries (technical--serious language work, redemptive historical--seeing the book and themes within the larger picture, and pastoral--drawing out contemporary significance), I have put the type(s) next to each commentator.

1) Dr. Dennis Johnson (New Testament/Practical Theology, Westminster Seminary California, Technical/Redemptive Historical/Pastoral).

There is no commentary I enjoy more than Triumph of the Lamb, Johnson's beautiful (and faithful) portrait of my favorite book of the Bible, Revelation. He also has a number of wonderful commentaries, particularly on the book of Acts, that sharpen one's understanding of Scripture and nourishes the heart. Johnson is a New Testament scholar by trade, but combines his expertise with a Christ-centered, larger perspective likely learned from his deceased colleague, Dr. Ed Clowney. He is also the world's biggest teddy bear, which comes across in his warm, pastoral tone.

2) Dr. G.K. Beale (New Testament, Westminster Seminary Philadelphia, Technical/Redemptive Historical).

Beale is a joy to listen to (sounds like John Madden from Monday Night Football). Most important, he has written the most exhaustive and important volume on Revelation and is perhaps the greatest redemptive historical scholar today. I doubt anyone does a better tracing certain themes, like temple worship and idolatry, through Scripture as well as Beale.

3) Dr. Iain Duguid (Old Testament, Grove City College, Technical/Redemptive Historical/Pastoral).

You wouldn't know Duguid was a Hebrew scholar, even when he parses a particular Hebrew verb or explains and Old Testament concept. Why? Because his commentaries (on Numbers, Ruth, Esther, and Ezekiel, among others) masquerade as devotionals. In particular, mesmerizing portraits of Christ are painted in ways meticulously faithful to the text that will make your heart sing. Dr. Bryan Estelle at WSC has a similar effect in his writings as well.

4) Dr. Hywel Jones (Practical Theology, Westminster Seminary California, Pastoral).

Jones is more of a preacher (an exceptional, Welsh preacher) than a commentator, but he has still produced a few gems--my favorite being his commentary on Job. With the pastoral wisdom that comes with decades in the pulpit and in prayer, Jones unearths gems that when collected, make the reader feel rich in God's grace.

5) Dr. Philip Ryken (President, Wheaton College, Pastoral).

Ryken, whose many commentaries are based upon his sermons, sparkles with clarity. There is a temptation to be clever in how one understands Scripture, at times reading things into God's Word that don't belong. In Ryken, the reader feels that he/she has grasped the simple meaning of the text and seen its manifold applications unfolded before his/her eyes, bringing conviction of sin and comfort in the Gospel.

Three Most Influential Theologians

The theological landscape in our country is rapidly shifting.

The mainline is continuing its slow journey toward total apostasy. Confessional churches, particularly those stressing the necessity of God-centered doctrine, worship, and life and the value of history, are flourishing. Broad evangelicalism (basic, but undeveloped orthodoxy) seems to be reaching a watershed moment, with some sliding toward apostasy and others thirsting after the historic doctrines of the Christian faith, guarded most carefully by the Reformed and Confessional churches.

There is much discussion over what has precipitated the great surge of the "Young, Restless, and Reformed" movement in denominations across the country. Having addressed that issue on this blog before, I think it is also important to consider those most influential upon me. It does us well to identify these figures, as we are subsequently encouraged to read more of their books, listen to more of their sermons, and consider what it is about Christ's work in and through them that we are most attracted to.

Here are the three most important (contemporary) theologians in my life:

1) Dr. Michael Horton (Systematic Theology, Westminster Seminary California)

From my experience in a number of broad evangelical circles both in Northern Virginia and in the chaplaincy, it would seem that Horton has wrested the mantle of greatest Reformed theologian of our day from R.C. Sproul. White Horse Inn, a nationally-syndicated radio program, has become the successor in many ways to Ligonier. He is widely respected across the broad spectrum of the academy because of his top-flight intellect, steadfast orthodoxy, and charity toward opponents. His dozens of books, many of which have been incredibly popular, also show that he enjoys a similar sway over the more simple-minded, like me!

2) Dr. David Van Drunen (Systematic Theology, Westminster Seminary California)

Van Drunen is much less known than Horton, but has made a substantial impact on me as well, especially as it pertains to reflections on the Church and state. With my political background, I appreciate thoughtful scholars in this field. Van Drunen very capably carries on the legacy of J. Gresham Machen in defending the spirituality of the Church and drawing careful lines between the Christian's calling as a citizen of Heaven and a citizen of this world.

3) Rev. Mark Driscoll (Pastor, Mars Hill Church, Seattle, WA)

Knowing how controversial Driscoll has become, I must first state emphatically that I take strong exception to a number of his views. I disagree with his ecclesiology (view of the Church), his view on the sacraments, and his belief in continuing revelation. I have also been disappointed by a number of uncharitable and ethically ambiguous decisions he has made. All that said, I really appreciate what might be called Driscoll's "pastoral theology." His preaching style is rich, clear, and blunt. There is a tendency among preachers (including myself) to preach to the air, not to hearts. Driscoll engages with the hearers of the Word, so that that truth of God's Word is brought to bear with intimacy and accessibility upon the hearts of God's people.

Who are three influential theologians in your own life?

Born to Endure

(Introducing myself to fellow marathoners before the race and inviting anybody who wants to talk to run with me at a pace of their choosing. I then pray for the runners. Also, I know my bib is crooked, but I am very intentional about showing people that I really don't care.)

We often describe life as a marathon, rather than as a short sprint, in order to stress that patience and endurance required throughout. But what does that mean, especially in a culture where ninety-nine percent of the people haven't run a literal marathon to compare their lives to?

Here was my mindset when I ran the first annual Cumberland Marathon this past weekend:

3 days prior--"What was I thinking? I haven't trained enough for this. I might get through it, but I'll be hurting, big time. And I have to get up at 5am on a Saturday! Wouldn't I rather just sleep in and go for it another time? But I can't. I paid for the race and I hate wasting money. Plus, I volunteered to give the prayer before the race, which makes my attendance pretty much mandatory.

12 hours prior--"I am dehydrated and the race hasn't even started. Yikes! I agreed to go over to my Afghanistan roommate's house for dinner. I'll be eating Chinese food cooked by his dad, a retired chef, and drink some nice wine. My friend wants to show off his cappuccino-making skills after dinner. I just drank a good bit of caffeine late at night. There goes any hope for significant sleep. Dehydration. Greasy foods. Little sleep. Three strikes--I'm out. Except I have to offer the prayer.

2 hours prior--"Man, am I sleepy! This isn't safe on these darkened mountain roads. The only energy boosters in the car are my caffeine-packed gummies for the race. (In order to stay awake, I end up eating the whole pack.) No! All of the good radio stations have dropped because of the mountains. All I have left is Martina McBride or the 'Signs of Evil Countdown' from the book of Revelation, according to a rural pastor with a thick country twang."

Race time--I pray for the runners. I talk with an enthusiastic retired marine who is excited to see a chappy running the race. I also meet an older Air Force officer who is running is first marathon as a way to keep in shape. The gun goes off. "Who do I talk with? I am trying to small talk with folks, but they seem focused on the race. Maybe the guy with the "Marathon Maniac" shirt will be agreeable to running together, since he has certainly run his share of marathons."

5 miles in--"We're going at a nice, slow pace. The Maniac is from Ohio and is a decent guy and fund to talk to in short breaths. So far, my legs feel great, but they haven't really been tested. The Air Force officer is starting to drop back. I'll miss running with him. I'm glad to have the company of a hippie-looking dude and a retired Army NCO."

10 miles in--"Okay. Now I'm starting to feel it. I've got enough training under my belt for a half marathon, but not a full. I'm tired and have only run four miles of a ten mile incline. This is going to be pretty brutal. Right now, I can only talk to the Maniac (the hippie and Army NCO have fallen back) with caveman like gasps. I really wish this was a half."

15 miles in--"This hill is unending. I'm watching the faster runners go past me in the opposite direction, but they look about as happy as I do right now. I'm pretty sure that one guy is muttering every curse word I know under his breath. Finally! There's the turnaround point. My spirits lift a bit to know that the incline is about to become a decline, but it'll still be another ten miles and my body feels shot."

20 miles in--"Time to eat my last two energy chews. My lower back, quads, knees, calfs, and ankles are all registering complaints. I feel like the DMV on Saturdays. Where's the Maniac? There he is--twenty yards back and stretching. Do I wait for him? No. That would violate marathon man-code. Experienced marathoners don't want unless they have to. But what will I do to keep myself mentally engaged? I'm going to pretend this decline is steeper than it is, run a faster clip on my dead legs, and try to catch people who are taking the decline easy. The conversations are over. The competition begins."

25 miles in--"I am pretty sure that I am running at my fastest pace of the race. If I slow down, I'll have to stop and stretch. My body is screaming at me--pushed far beyond the limits of my training. I am fighting my muscles and joints, but they'll have the last laugh. I have reeled in over a dozen runners, including the guy whose language makes me think that he trained for the race with enlisted soldiers. If I see him after the race, I should talk to him about the physical benefits of remaining positive during a race. It's ninety percent mental. My remaining goals: Catch a few more runners in the last mile as I run my fastest pace yet, and try to finish in 4:30 overall (the first half was 2:23)."

At the finish--"There's the Army National Guard soldiers who are helping support the race. I feel there cheers in my heart and bones and sprint past a few more runners. The race clock says 4:28! My second half was 18 minutes faster than my first half, and the first three miles of the second half were still going uphill! Even so, two middle-aged women cross the line ten seconds before me. If I had just kicked it a little bit more at the end, I would've picked off two more runners. And now I can feel reality setting in. I can barely walk. There's the free Chick-fil-A sandwiches! My legs tell me to stop, but I want my free, delicious, crispy chicken sandwich. But I am dehydrated. This is the first Chick-fil-A sandwich that I have not enjoyed. I need to get back to the car and drive home in time to shower for a social gathering with the session from my church. I am not excited to drive stick shift with a broken-down body for the next two hours. (I wait another ten minutes for my Maniac pal, Jim, to cross the line. I grab him a sandwich, wish a number of people farewell, and jump in my car.)"

In hindsight, it is easy to see why a marathon is a good analogy to life. It is not just about endurance. It is about companionship and mutual encouragement. It is about a larger narrative--one of purpose and fulfillment--that guides the average broken down runner past the smaller narrative of incredible pain and flagging spirits. In the runner's classic, Born to Run, the author speaks of two seemingly contradictory impulses that guide the best distance runners. One, they embrace and even befriend their pain. They know it will come and welcome it. It will be their companion, even when they're all alone. Two, like the great Taramuhara tribe in Mexico, the best runners turn running into a backdrop, enjoying the journey from start to finish. The Taramuhara would often freak American distance runners out, wielding joyous smiles over the whole course of an one hundred mile race.

But let's translate this into biblical terms. James, by the inspiration of God, exhorts believers to "Consider it all joy...when you meet trials of various kinds" (1:2). The joy does not specifically come from the trials. They are often causes of great sorrow, reflecting the fallen nature of man and of the world. But the joy is found in the larger narrative--in God's joyous providence, which weaves trials into His great redemptive work in human history and human hearts. In embracing that providence, with Jesus' redemptive work behind us, Jesus' restorative work upon us, and Jesus' returning work before us, we find trials to be transforming in the power of His grace, not defining in terms of our identity or future hopes.

We embrace pain, as horrible as it is--we don't shortcut suffering--because we know that is a tool used by God to grow us in grace. In our trials, we can weep with our Savior at all of the brokenness, and rejoice in Him that He has started His redemptive work in human hearts and will one day come and make all things new.

We also realize that pain is a part of this broken world, but not the whole of it. We are not deceived by the conceit that pain alone is ultimate, nor to sway easily to the depressive mindset that terrorizes the heart with that false theology. We see, through prayer and God-given wisdom (James 1), that the picture extends far beyond the pain. In that reality, we rejoice.

Life is indeed like a marathon. So let us persevere, not shunning the pain the inevitably awaits, but embracing the hope of glory that awaits us at the end in Christ Jesus.