I have preached nearly twenty years' worth of sermons at various churches across the country. With almost zero exceptions, the sermons that have garnered the most enthusiastic response—the ones that people remember years later—are the ones that assume the listener is suffering. No matter how poised the audience appears, talks on depression, betrayal, addiction, grief, loneliness, and greed resonate much deeper than those on more upbeat topics. In fact, the more you emphasize the hurts of life, the more people feel known and uplifted.
Currently reading: Low Anthropology by David Zahl 📚
Finished reading: The Revenge of Conscience by J. Budziszewski 📚
An interesting work on the implications of original sin—and its widespread denial—for contemporary American politics. Budziszewski offers a more subtle presentation of conscience than is typical. He suggests that much of our social decay and moral confusion comes not from a weakening of conscience, but rather from our suppression of it, which results in moral energy being redirected and bubbling up in other ways. Since, as Budziszewski explains, knowledge of guilt produces certain “objective needs,” there remains a desire for satisfaction (e.g., confession, atonement, reconciliation, justification), pacified now through non-religious, pseudo forms. In this respect, The Revenge of Conscience comports nicely with Wilfred McClay’s reflections in his seminal essay, “The Strange Persistence of Guilt.”
Finished reading: Prince Caspian by Clive Staples Lewis 📚
Legalistic Christianity leads to dualistic Christianity. When people fail to grasp the gospel of grace, they tend toward a Pharisaical obsession with ritual purity and cleanness. If we assume we are saved by the purity and rightness of our lives, we are encouraged to stay within the confines of the church, content to be in relationships and situations where we don’t have to deal with nonbelievers and their ideas. In addition, the black-and-white mentality of legalism does not allow for the kinds of flexibility and tolerance for uncertainty that are necessary for deep, thoughtful Christian reflection, creativity, and vocation.
When a man says that he grasps an argument he is using a verb (grasp) which literally means to take something in the hands, but he is certainly not thinking that his mind has hands or that an argument can be seized like a gun. To avoid the word grasp he may change the form of expression and say, ‘I see your point,’ but he does not mean that a pointed object has appeared in his visual field. He may have a third shot and say, ‘I follow you,’ but he does not mean that he is walking behind you along a road. Everyone is familiar with this linguistic phenomenon and the grammarians call it metaphor. But it is a serious mistake to think that metaphor is an optional thing which poets and orators may put into their work as a decoration and plain speakers can do without. The truth is that if we are going to talk at all about things which are not perceived by the senses, we are forced to use language metaphorically. Books on psychology or economics or politics are as continuously metaphorical as books of poetry or devotion. There is no other way of talking, as every philologist is aware.
A few gems from Calvin on preaching:
- Commenting on Romans 11:14: "Observe here that the minister of the word is said in some way to save those whom he leads to the obedience of faith...[P]reaching is an instrument for effecting the salvation of the faithful, and though it can do nothing without the Spirit of God, yet through his inward operation it produces the most powerful effects."
- Commenting on 2 Corinthians 3:6: "We are, then, Ministers of the Spirit, not as if we held him [Christ] enclosed within us, or as it were captive - not as if we could at our pleasure confer his grace upon all, or upon whom we pleased - but because Christ, through our instrumentality illuminates the minds of men, renews their hearts, and, in short, regenerates them wholly. It is in consequence of there being such a connection and bond of union between Christ's grace and man's effort, that in many cases that is ascribed to the minister which belongs exclusively to the Lord."
- Commenting on Galatians 3:1: "Let those who would discharge aright the ministry of the gospel learn, not merely to speak and declaim, but to penetrate into the consciences of men, to make them see Christ crucified, and feel the shedding of his blood. When the Church has painters such as these, she no longer needs the dead images of wood and stone, she no longer requires pictures; both of which, unquestionably, were first admitted to Christian temples when the pastors had become dumb and been converted into mere idols, or when they uttered a few words from the pulpit in such a cold and careless manner, that the power and efficacy of the ministry were utterly extinguished."
- From Institutes (4.8.9): "Here, then, is the sovereign power with which the pastors of the church, by whatever name they be called, ought to be endowed. That is that they may dare boldly to do all things by God's Word; may compel all worldly power, glory, wisdom, and exaltation to yield to and obey his majesty; supported by his power, may command all from the highest even to the last; may build up Christ's household and cast down Satan's; may feed the sheep and drive away the wolves; may instruct and exhort the teachable; may accuse, rebuke, and subdue the rebellious and stubborn; may bind and loose; finally, if need be, may launch thunderbolts and lightnings; but do all things in God's Word."
James Wood provides a moving account of his conversion, highlighting in particular how the gospel heals wounds of family breakdown and relational dysfunction. (Pro tip: Don’t read this one at work, or really around any other people.)