I would like to preface this by saying that I am the last person who has any ground to stand on in the criticism of others. I still don't know how to balance my own unworthiness with the need I feel to confront dangerous influences and doctrines. It seems to me that perhaps my critical eye should be leveled at myself and not at others. However, in the suffocating pro-Wilsonism I find myself surrounded with, and with many of my friends in his church, even my own brother, who do not see the terrible end of the road Khrist Kirk is headed on, I find myself impelled to speak my mind.

I try to avoid reading Credenda/Agenda if at all possible. When I go home to visit my family, I hide them so as to limit their influence (I would burn them, but I'd get in trouble for that. As many things get lost in my home, hiding seems the more natural and inoffensive way to go about it). But when I saw the latest issue, I had to laugh, bitterly, at the Thema -- a thesis on church splits by one of the most divisive men in the Reformed church.

Some things have been made clear to me over the past couple of months when talking to others about my mercifully short stay at Khrist Kirk in Moscow. Though not an exhaustive list, nevertheless these are some of the most striking problems I have with CRECism altogether:

The Auburn Avenue kerfuffle of 2002 was caused by the men in question doing what they normally do -- unthinkingly pursuing originality for the sake of originality. Heaven knows, you're not a real intellectual until you've thought of something nobody else has thought of (perhaps it hasn't been thought of because, you know, it's, um, heresy?). Therein lies the problem -- these men were more interested in being intellectuals than in being Christians. I don't believe these men thought through the implications of their more questionable statements before they said them -- why else would they be so hard to pin down on these issues otherwise? If they truly meant what they said, from what I know of their character, they would vociferously stand by it, instead of merely muddying waters that were already solid mud. Were some of them secretly appalled when others proceeded to come to the logical end of their ideas for them? Perhaps. Will they ever have the humility to admit they're wrong? Not in this lifetime. Maybe they'll be more careful about what they say in the future. Maybe.

It's obvious to me what distinguishes true Christianity from Christianity in name only, having been a formalist and a hypocrite for most of my life until God shed His grace abroad in my heart. A humble, self-sacrificial love, a passionate following after Christ, a sense of one's utter impotence and need of a Savior, and a brokenness over sin are essential hallmarks of the regenerate heart, and I fear I see little of this in either the leadership or the congregants of this church. Granted, theirs is not the only church to suffer from this -- hardly. But, in the absence of these, it is dangerous, not to mention downright foolish, to give credence to their ideas about Christian theology.

Doug Wilson says he is against morbid introspection -- which, I agree, is just another term for unbelief -- but in practice, Khrist Kirk is against any kind of introspection at all. I have never seen a congregation so self-sufficient and unbroken by sin, unwilling that any self-examination should ruin the jollity of their EatDrinkAndBeMerryForTomorrowWeConquerTheWorldByInfiltrating
TheCultureThroughSlingingSnideCommentsAndNoveltyDoctrinesThrough
TheWindowsOfOurIvoryTower worldview. I marvel that they can read Ryle, Bunyan, and Owen -- indeed, any of the Puritans -- and not be convicted of the need to know their sin and, therefore, their need of a Savior. It seems remarkable to so side-step such things when they seem hard-wired into Reformed doctrine. As Ryle said, "The plain truth is that a right knowledge of sin lies at the root of all saving Christianity."

Looking back over this post, I realize I have leveled some serious charges against Wilson and his church. I am not handing these judgments down "from on high" -- these are just my own thoughts, and I am more than willing to admit error should someone point it out to me. In fact, I welcome criticism. I would love to be wrong about this -- but my experience says otherwise.

The Unavoidable Retrospective v.2006

I sit here in front of a blank page with that infernally irritating cursor blinking -- I wonder if modern writing is detrimentally affected by this constant reminder of our inability to perfectly articulate our thoughts -- slowness, thoughtfulness, ripening is not allowed. (See? Digression perhaps only for the sake of conquering the empty page).

If 2005 was the beginning of my life, 2006 was the realization that bloody knees, siblings, growing pains, tears, sickness, and death are what await for those who live. (Well, okay, not always siblings . . .) And of all of those, death is actually the most welcomed and the least frightening. I hope that my longing for heaven is purer and more understandable than I suspect it is. I want to be perfectly holy, I want to see my Savior face-to-face and to see Him as He is, I want to have my whole being consumed in the purest expressions of worship, adoration, and love. I don't want to trudge through this life, stumbling, backsliding, lukewarm and then cold, plagued by doubt and temptation, continually ashamed by my flesh. I want righteousness all in one fell swoop. As every biography of eminent saints I've read has made very clear, there is no way to holiness except through fire. I welcome the fire for what I know it brings and yet I shudder before it.

I have learned how easy it is to forget my sin and fall thoughtlessly into self-righteousness. It is this that makes me most ashamed of myself -- it seems the consummate sin, for it entails a complete forgetfulness of my complete depravity and an unaccountable blindness to God's righteousness.

I have learned how important it is to know my own neediness and to remain broken at the feet of Jesus and allow Him to work in me without self or pride getting in the way (not that it ever works that way -- ideally, though). I revel in my helplessness -- thanks be to God that none of it is my doing! I will never understand the draw of man-centered religion -- there is no hope to be had in mankind.

I look back over this year and am deeply ashamed of all the time I did not spend in the pursuit of God, all the time I devoted to the things of this world, all the time I spent thinking of myself and my own comfort. Both the things I have done and the things I have not done condemn me. I expected to do more for God, to have become more conformed to Christ, to have grown more in faith and love than I have. The naivete of a young Christian, I suppose -- but the only reason I did not attain these is that I let my flesh hinder me from running the race as I should have.

If it does nothing else, at least the coming of the new year spurs me to reflection, to repentance, and to a renewed desire to live for God, making Him and Him alone my focus.

This is much more interesting and useful than the Johari Window.

Oh, and I rescued a Power Mac G4 from being excessed at work today.

I just had to post from the Pacific Science Center while in a computer lab filled with iMacs . . . and only iMacs. I guess that's why there are so few people in here right now. The Dead Sea Scrolls are next.

I love being in the city -- it invigorates me.

I'm going to go back to having fun in a very geeky way.

Behold, all is vanity.

Nothing can satisfy the entire man but the Lord's love and the Lord's own self. Saints have tried to anchor in other roadsteads, but they have been driven out of such fatal refuges. Solomon, the wisest of men, was permitted to make experiments for us all, and to do for us what we must not dare for ourselves. Here is his testimony in his own words: "So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in Jerusalem: also my wisdom remained with me . And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them, I withheld not my heart from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my labour: and this was my portion of all my labour. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I laboured to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun." "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." What! the whole of it is vanity? O favoured monarch, is there nothing in all thy wealth? Nothing in that wide dominion reaching from river even to the sea? Nothing in Palmyra's glorious palaces? Nothing in the house of the forest of Lebanon? In all thy music and dancing, and wine and luxury, is there nothing? "Nothing," he says, "but weariness of spirit." This was his verdict when he had trodden the whole round of pleasure. To embrace our Lord Jesus, to dwell in His love, and be fully assured of union with Him -- this is all in all. Dear reader, you need not try other forms of life in order to see whether they are better than the Christian's: if you roam the world around, you will see no sights like a sight of the Saviour's face; if you could have all the comforts of life, if you lost your Saviour, you would be wretched; but if you win Christ, then should you rot in a dungeon, you would find it a paradise; should you live in obscurity, or die with famine, you will yet be satisfied with favour and full of the goodness of the Lord.

- C. H. Spurgeon

Thy will be done.

No.

"The heart is as insatiable as the grave till Jesus enters it."

-- C. H. Spurgeon

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,

As to be hated needs but to be seen;

Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,

We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

-- Alexander Pope

I attempt to limit visits to the bookstore. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I love bookstores. I get positively giddy about them, wandering around in a heady euphoria that garners me strange looks from the rest of the clientele. Meh. Pseudobibliophiles. Sometimes, it’s enough just to touch the books, savor their heft and thickness, delve gingerly into the first few pages. Talk of the Devil: Encounters with Seven Dictators. A Benjamin Franklin Education. A first-hand account of late-WWII Berlin under Russian occupation. Yet another scientist claims that evolution and God, science and religion, naturalism and theism can be friends. Treatises on chaos theory and quarks and that elusive Higgs Boson. A small square cookbook in pale green with a perfect bowl of soup, fragrant and steamy, on the cover. Leather-bound copies of Shakespeare. A novel about a medieval illuminator who dares to illustrate John Wycliffe’s English Bible. Mmmm. I could live in a bookstore, living off free coffee and trash-can-diving treasures, sleeping . . . only when necessary.

But, I digress. I attempt to limit visits to the bookstore because of the potential for irreparable damage to my income. Bargain books, especially, are my downfall. Any purchase can be justified if it’s 40% off. Libraries, on the other hand, are relatively guilt-free. I can happily pile book upon book until the stack reaches from my fingertips to my chin, shrug off the raised eyebrows of librarians, gleefully resist the offer of a bag, return the books in three days, and start over again, my last two dimes still jingling in my pocket – the sole survivors of a Powell’s shopping spree. Except for library book sales – they get me in trouble, too.

Re: my post on July 25th . . . I crave knowledge as much as any Eve out there, hence my bookstore obsession, and it still irks me to have Christians painted as ignorant by the world, even though I know, I know that their opinion doesn’t matter. And simply because I advocate a certain approach to learning and intellectualism, or anything else for that matter, doesn’t mean I’ve got it all figured out, or even that I follow my own advice most of the time. My posts are more often prayers and sermons directed at myself than anything else.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

Such is the language of the believer panting after present fellowship with Jesus, he is sick for his Lord. Gracious souls are never perfectly at ease except they are in a state of nearness to Christ; for when they are away from Him they lose their peace. The nearer to Him, the fuller the heart is, not only of peace, but of life, and vigour, and joy, for all these depend on constant intercourse with Jesus. What the sun is to the day, what the moon is to the night, what the dew is to the flower, such is Jesus Christ to us. What bread is to the hungry, clothing to the naked, the shadow of a great rock to the traveller in a weary land, such is Jesus Christ; and, therefore, if we are not consciously one with Him, little marvel if our spirit cries in the words of the Song, "I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love." This earnest longing after Jesus has a blessing attending it: "Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after righteousness"; and therefore, supremely blessed are they who thirst after the Righteous One. Blessed is that hunger, since it comes from God: if I may not have the full-blown blessedness of being filled, I would seek the same blessedness in its sweet budpining in emptiness and eagerness till I am filled with Christ. If I may not feed on Jesus, it shall be next door to heaven to hunger and thirst after Him. There is a hallowedness about that hunger, since it sparkles among the beatitudes of our Lord. But the blessing involves a promise. Such hungry ones "shall be filled" with what they are desiring. If Christ thus causes us to long after Himself, He will certainly satisfy those longings; and when He does come to us, as come He will, oh, how sweet it will be!

-- C. H. Spurgeon

Jordan (1)

Who says that fictions only and false hair
Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty
Is all good structure in a winding stair?
May no lines pass, except they do their duty
Not to a true, but painted chair?

Is it no verse, except enchanted groves
And sudden arbors shadow coarse-spun lines?
Must purling streams refresh a lover's loves?
Must all be veiled, while he that reads, divines,
Catching the sense at two removes?

Shepherds are honest people; let them sing:
Riddle who list, for me, and pull for Prime:
I envy no man's nightingale or spring;
Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme,
Who plainly say, My God, My King.

Jordan (2)

When first my lines of heav'nly joys mde mention,
Such was their lustre, they did so excel,
That I sought out quaint words, and trim invention;
My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,
Curling with metaphors a plain intention,
Decking the sense, as if it were to sell.

Thousands of notions in my brain did run,
Off'ring their service, if I were not sped:
I often blotted what I had begun;
This was not quick enough, and that was dead.
Nothing could seem too rich to clothe the sun,
Much less those joys which trample on his head.

As flames do work and wind, when they ascend,
So did I weave myself into the sense.
But while I bustled, I might hear a friend
Whisper, How wide is all this long pretence!
There is in love a sweetness ready penned:
Copy out only that, and save expense.

-- George Herbert

Me after too much late-night blogging:















That's right. I polymerize after midnight.


















Ah, the trials of having a Mac that keeps you up at night.

Reading about the Federal Vision in the OPC's Report on Justification is a peculiar experience as I have seen, first-hand, the practical outworking of that theology. I have seen the doctrines of the Reformation have less effect on people's lives than the few screwball ideas to which the congregants of Khrist Kirk tenaciously hold (good grammar, awful sentence -- which is why I'm somewhat of a deconstructionist). Their hypercovenantalism and leanings toward baptismal regeneration make them cavalier about sin -- any sin, except that of disagreeing with them. Their interest in the Great Commission is about nil (unless you consider singing psalms in nursing homes and serving hot chocolate and cookies to your detractors to be the proclamation of the gospel to the lost). And their preteristic post-millenialism borders on the absurd (essentially, we're in the process of transforming this earth into the new earth of the second coming -- and the judgement has already occurred). They're beginning to rival Mormonism with their horde of strange doctrines, and that's saying something.

I wonder if anyone has ever made it through John Owen's writings on the mortification of sin with an intact faith in one's own clear-sightedness regarding sin. Mine was thoroughly quashed by his description of how wily and deceitful sin is and the myriad excuses the flesh makes for it. However, as one precariously teetering on the threshold of assurance, I found his words too harshly realistic to bear without the blazing counterpoint of grace. Or, perhaps, I am just a coward.

I read a passage from Elizabeth Prentiss’ letters the other day that sums up something I have been musing on for a while. She speaks of

the wish without the will to be holy. We pray for sanctification and then are afraid God will sanctify us by stripping us of our idols and feel distressed lest we can not have them and Him too. Reading the life of Madame Guyon gave me great pain and anxiety, I remember. I thought that if such spiritual darkness and trial as she was in for many years, was a necessary attendant on eminent piety, I could not summon courage to try to live such a life. Of all the anguish in the world there is nothing like this -- the sense of God, without the sense of nearness to Him.

My Madame Guyon was John Bunyan. I blew through Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners in one afternoon and evening. It was simultaneously comforting and terrifying that Bunyan’s experience was so like mine – moments of grace and consolation and zeal followed by darkness, coldness of heart, deadness, apathy, temptation, vehement wrestling with the flesh and the devil. I know well his particular temptation towards unbelief. The thought that the gospel is false and that there is no God in the world often grips me with such violent despair that I feel like killing myself. It “removeth the foundations from under me.”

I often tremble at the thought of what trials await me as I strive to be holy. But I would rather be broken and resting only on the sufficiency of Christ than complacent and secure in doctrinal purity or personal righteousness. Humble me, wound me, Lord Jesus, that I might stay nearer to thee, and have not a thought for myself but be completely, totally absorbed in love to thee.

From the conclusion to Grace Abounding:

I find to this day seven abominations in my heart: (1) Inclinings to unbelief. (2) Suddenly to forget the love and mercy that Christ manifesteth. (3) A leaning to the works of the law. (4) Wanderings and coldness in prayer. (5) To forget to watch for that I pray for. (6) Apt to murmur because I have no more, and yet ready to abuse what I have. (7) I can do none of those things which God commands me, but my corruptions will thrust in themselves, 'When I would do good, evil is present with me.'

These things I continually see and feel, and am afflicted and oppressed with; yet the wisdom of God doth order them for my good. (1) They make me abhor myself. (2) They keep me from trusting my heart. (3) They convince me of the insufficiency of all inherent righteousness. (4) They show me the necessity of flying to Jesus. (5) They press me to pray unto God. (6) They show me the need I have to watch and be sober. (7) And provoke me to look to God, through Christ, to help me, and carry me through this world. Amen.

Re: our conversation on 06/28/2004 . . .

From the preface to the Orthodox Presbyterian Church's Report on Justification:

A noteworthy feature of current theological debates, including those on justification, is the dynamic of the internet. The internet has produced the opportunity both to disseminate rapidly one’s opinions and to obtain information quickly that was undreamed of until very recent years. While the internet presents exciting opportunities for communicating the gospel and Reformed theology more generally, it also presents dangers and temptations. One temptation is to post opinions without due reflection and without proper accountability to others. While the ordinary process of publication requires material to be read and critiqued by others before going into print, internet posting allows material to be circulated without going through these ordinary channels. This increases the danger that material is promulgated in an irresponsible manner, as authors promote their opinions promiscuously without being properly accountable to others and before receiving valuable feedback, as wisdom, humility, and love require. In this environment of internet posting, likewise, readers are less able to judge the competency and qualifications of those who circulate material.

If I ever doubt my salvation, that longing unto physical sickness for the presence of God that pierces me daily would make me think otherwise. It is hard for me to wait for Heaven – granted, I'm not a terribly patient person to begin with – but on those days when nothing but His palpable presence can surfeit, the guilt of my sin overshadows my soul, and worldliness feels like a slow poison seeping into my heart, I long to see Him as He is, and to be like Him. I pray that God will keep me so broken only He can heal, so needy only He can satisfy.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?

O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You;
My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.

I'm not sure how I feel about movies – what's acceptable to watch, what's not, where the Christian should draw the line. I used to think that Hollywood romanticism and sappy sentimentalism were more damaging to a Christian worldview than other films which very bluntly showed the effects of total depravity. Whatever else, at least the non-believers watching the latter wouldn't get any wrong ideas about the nature of man. But, many have confronted the fact of fallen man and a fallen world and become nihilists. A belief in total depravity, as much as I hate to say it, doesn't lead seamlessly into recognizing a need for salvation.

I used to think that it was necessary for Christians to get away from the ridicule engendered by films such as Left Behind and show the world that they, too, could be “gritty” and “relentless” in their look at “reality.” I used to think that movies, to some degree, could be a common ground upon which to witness – provided that I watched the right ones, usually rated R. But now I see that because I wasn't different from the world in the ways that matter, I had to draw it in by a display of similarity – a classic evangelical church-building tactic. My Christianity should be obvious to the world, not necessarily by the films I watch, but by how I pursue God and love those around me. I think if non-Christians saw the effects of a Christlike love in me, they'd be willing to overlook a reserved taste in movies. Little House on the Prairie, anyone?

Kidding.

Montana.

The put-in.
















Rafting on the Clark Fork River.
















Fang.

Note: Others far more eloquent than I have probably expressed the sentiments below, but I do not write out of a sense of the originality of my thoughts, but because these issues have been weighing on my heart.

I fear that the Reformed church is far more in danger of being Christian in name only than any other. Calvinism has become a philosophical system to be proclaimed from the pulpit or debated over post-sermon coffee, yet seems to have little bearing on the lives, thoughts, actions, ambitions of its disciples. Granted, my experience with the Reformed church is limited to a few churches within a few denominations, but what I have seen troubles me. It is so easy to point fingers at evangelicals for their abuses of worship, their false ideas of the character of God, their man-centered soteriology – but when it comes down to it, in the last day, will God commend an armchair theologian who has spent his days pondering supra- and infralapsarianism over an Arminian missionary who has brought countless souls to the foot of the cross? I don't know at what point a perverted gospel ceases to be gospel. I can't tell you whether the salvation that evangelicals believe in has enough of Bible truth in it to make them true Christians. But I do know that, in spite of their corrupted knowledge, they are doing what God has commanded His children to do, striving to be like Christ in everything, their zeal and humbleness unheard-of in Calvinistic circles. I long for Calvinists to embrace the living reality of their beliefs, to make their religion of the mind the more powerful religion of the heart.

More to come.

Aaaaaah!

Just bought me one of these. And one of these. And one of these.

Living in a Mormon household is, shall we say, interesting. Tonight, three missionaries stopped by unexpectedly, and they perked up considerably upon finding fresh meat in the house to prosyletize. At some point or another one of them asked, jokingly, if Presbyterians prayed. I bit my tongue on a “no, God talks to us personally.” I would have dearly loved to see their reaction. They are invited to Saturday night dinner, which is a shame as I will miss the chance to needle them.

Ah, well. Montana, here I come.

I've been ruminating lately about the place that learning/intellectualism should have in the aspirations of a Christian. I confess I've only witnessed the dangers of over-emphasis on erudition; naturally, I can't help but feel it is more perilous to err on that side than the other. Some Christians are deathly afraid of being ridiculed as ignorant by the world and sadly end up adopting its inflated views of academia. I was one of them. Some can balance great learning with great humility and servanthood, but for me it is only a crippling source of pride.

I still don't understand the interface between our responsibility and God's sovereignty. I don't think I ever will. It seems to me that there are things that God has commanded me to do, that these things could very well take up most of my time, and that, if I make them my focus, I won't have time to wonder whether God will use this or that questionable activity to His glory. Khrist Kirk would call me a legalist -- but I can't see how drawing a hard line on this would be to my detriment if its result is that I spend more time in pursuit of God, more time in worship, more time in service, more time in amassing knowledge of Christ, of God's grace, of His love. Knowing God could consume every ato-second of my life and still leave me panting for more. What better pursuit could there be on this earth?

This is not to say I succeed in placing Him first in my life -- this is more me preaching to myself than anything else. How easy such things are to write -- how hard to do! My prayer is that my focus will always, only, be conformity to Christ and more love to Him. Let me know Christ and be ignorant in everything else.

I had bread and water for dinner. It's not so poor a ration as some might think.

Walking out of the 329 building is like emerging from underneath Antartica's hundred-foot-thick ice into Death Valley's noonday sun. My phone, awakening from its hibernation, tells me I have voicemail in no uncertain tones. I always think that it could be you, as though you were the only person who would call me -- even when you're really the last person who would want to. I'll never get over you.

Just posting so I can edit the template. How's that for a first post?