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Volume 7: Issue 4 | Oct 2024

A Legacy of Living Faith

 

II Kings 4:8-37, NKJV

Now it happened one day that Elisha went to Shunem, where there was a notable woman, and she persuaded him to eat some food. So it was, as often as he passed by, he would turn in there to eat some food. And she said to her husband, “Look now, I know that this is a holy man of God, who passes by us regularly. Please, let us make a small upper room on the wall; and let us put a bed for him there, and a table and a chair and a lampstand; so it will be, whenever he comes to us, he can turn in there.” And it happened one day that he came there, and he turned in to the upper room and lay down there. Then he said to Gehazi his servant, “Call this Shunammite woman.” When he had called her, she stood before him. And he said to him, “Say now to her, ‘Look, you have been concerned for us with all this care. What can I do for you? Do you want me to speak on your behalf to the king or to the commander of the army?’ ” She answered, “I dwell among my own people.” So he said, “What then is to be done for her?” And Gehazi answered, “Actually, she has no son, and her husband is old.” So he said, “Call her.” When he had called her, she stood in the doorway. Then he said, “About this time next year you shall embrace a son.” And she said, “No, my lord. Man of God, do not lie to your maidservant!”

 

But the woman conceived, and bore a son when the appointed time had come, of which Elisha had told her. And the child grew. Now it happened one day that he went out to his father, to the reapers. And he said to his father, “My head, my head!” So he said to a servant, “Carry him to his mother.” When he had taken him and brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then died. And she went up and laid him on the bed of the man of God, shut the door upon him, and went out. Then she called to her husband, and said, “Please send me one of the young men and one of the donkeys, that I may run to the man of God and come back.” So he said, “Why are you going to him today? It is neither the New Moon nor the Sabbath.” And she said, “It is well.” Then she saddled a donkey, and said to her servant, “Drive, and go forward; do not slacken the pace for me unless I tell you.” And so she departed, and went to the man of God at Mount Carmel. So it was, when the man of God saw her afar off, that he said to his servant Gehazi, “Look, the Shunammite woman! Please run now to meet her, and say to her, ‘Is it well with you? Is it well with your husband? Is it well with the child?’ ” And she answered, “It is well.”

 

Now when she came to the man of God at the hill, she caught him by the feet, but Gehazi came near to push her away. But the man of God said, “Let her alone; for her soul is in deep distress, and the Lord has hidden it from me, and has not told me.” So she said, “Did I ask a son of my lord? Did I not say, ‘Do not deceive me’?” Then he said to Gehazi, “Get yourself ready, and take my staff in your hand, and be on your way. If you meet anyone, do not greet him; and if anyone greets you, do not answer him; but lay my staff on the face of the child.” And the mother of the child said, “As the Lord lives, and as your soul lives, I will not leave you.” So he arose and followed her. Now Gehazi went on ahead of them, and laid the staff on the face of the child; but there was neither voice nor hearing. Therefore he went back to meet him, and told him, saying, “The child has not awakened.”

 

When Elisha came into the house, there was the child, lying dead on his bed. He went in therefore, shut the door behind the two of them, and prayed to the Lord. And he went up and lay on the child, and put his mouth on his mouth, his eyes on his eyes, and his hands on his hands; and he stretched himself out on the child, and the flesh of the child became warm. He returned and walked back and forth in the house, and again went up and stretched himself out on him; then the child sneezed seven times, and the child opened his eyes. And he called Gehazi and said, “Call this Shunammite woman.” So he called her. And when she came in to him, he said, “Pick up your son.” So she went in, fell at his feet, and bowed to the ground; then she picked up her son and went out.

 

We are introduced to two women who occupy the same place in the story.

 

The first woman we encounter is a hospitable woman. She is loving, she is generous, she is kind. And yet her life is overshadowed by death. There has been no life in her womb; no life from her husband. There are no children. And when she is told that next year there will be a child, she does not believe. She says no, it is not possible. Death reigns in this house.

 

But after she gives birth, she's a different woman. The son has changed her. She's a woman dominated by life. With a belief in resurrection such that she does not speak to her husband about her deceased son. She does not speak Gehazi about her deceased son. She makes a beeline to Elisha and speaks only to him and then says “I will not leave you.”

 

What does she believe in? It is the most extraordinary and unimaginable thing. She thinks this guy can raise her dead son.

 

We could set it up. Do you know anyone who can raise the dead? Well, let's meet someone. This sermon comes from Hebrews chapter 11:35-40.

 

In going through Hebrews, we have seen how Jesus is superior to all that has gone before him, how he is the great pinnacle of salvation, the climax. We have seen how faith in Jesus reworks our lives, changing us and our world.

 

Hebrews 11:35-40, KJV

Women received their dead raised to life again. Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us.

The heavy springtime rain has come. It strikes the brick sidewalks here on Antrim Street, running off over the granite curves and into the paved road. The road pitches down from the center to the edge and from the end of the street at Cambridge, down here to where there are grates and drains, and you can always tell the condition of the grates and the drains at the upper end of Antrim or in the middle of the street.

 

There's a great roaring sound that comes up the street when the grates are open and the water is rushing down the street and flowing away to the Charles River. There is otherwise the silence of rain. And the water puddles and pools in the street as our road becomes a river and the center of it begins to disappear, and the end of it begins to disappear.

 

And our lives can become a lot like this, where our lives become cluttered with the depth and the debris of last season. The leaves and the twigs that clutter up our thoughts and clutter up our hearts, and no longer can life flow free and flow through. No longer does the reality of eternal life, the reality of resurrection, define us, but instead our thoughts and our feelings and our way of living is congested and cluttered by death and by debris.

 

To help us with this problem to which we are so prone we have the good news. The Gospel of Jesus Christ in Hebrews chapter 11 -- we're told in these verses that Jesus raises the dead. We are told this good news that Jesus raises the dead. And from this truth we are commanded to live on stories of life, to nourish one another as a community, as a family, with stories of resurrection and life.

 

Now, let's look at our verses together and consider this truth for a little bit. Notice first beginning in verse 35 that we are told women received their dead raised to life again. We just read a story that perhaps the Holy Spirit has in mind: Elisha raised the dead. Women received back their dead.

 

But of course no one can compete with Jesus, who raised the widow of Nain's son from death; who raised the brother of Mary and Martha from death; who in fact raised a bunch of unnamed people on the day of his crucifixion from death (see Matthew's gospel), and they went wandering about the city of Jerusalem. Explain that one.

 

But this raising of the dead is an inferior resurrection. It is a little resurrection. The one thing that all these stories of resurrection have in common is that the son of the Shunammite woman would go on to die, the second time. The son of the widow of Nain would go on to die. Lazarus -- it's one of my favorite turns of phrases in John's gospel: "having been raised from the dead the Pharisees and Sadducees seek to kill him." Boy, that just seems ironic. And indeed one day someone somewhere caught up to him and Lazarus did die.

 

For this reason, we're told in the very next sentence others were tortured, not accepting deliverance that they might obtain a better resurrection.

 

You see, these stories of little resurrections, these stories of God's power by which life overcomes death, are meant to illustrate for us, to awaken and strengthen and deepen faith within us -- of the real resurrection yet to come; of the better resurrection for which we wait and we long. There is a better resurrection coming, and to believe in that better resurrection, to believe in that real resurrection, we need these little stories of little resurrections.

 

Every evening the sun goes down and the world turns dark as a grave. Several hours later the sun rises and dawn is a little resurrection. Every night we go flat as a board in our bed and we slip out of consciousness and our heart rate slows and we enact death. And every morning our eyes open and our pulse increases and we rise. The English word for getting out of bed is rise. It is a mini resurrection.

 

Some of us have conceived children and been told they are doomed to die. We prayed and we prayed and we prayed -- and here are little resurrections. Some of us have been told that friends have cancer. Some of us have been told death is coming through this disease and we prayed and we prayed -- and they're alive.

 

Little resurrections.

 

All these stories that we can begin to communicate with one another -- that we can begin to collect as a family -- that say “Look, here's life!” Life through death; life in spite of death; life after death. And we realize all these little resurrections are gathering for us this faith, this certainty, that there is a better resurrection coming, a real resurrection. A permanent resurrection.

 

One of the greatest joys we can have as believers who pray for the healing of the sick is if you are praying for a believer, the answer to that prayer will in fact ultimately be “Yes!” For even if that mortal flesh succumbs to that disease, and we bury that person, the resurrection defies that disease. There's a better resurrection coming. The disease does not win. Death does not win. We are no longer defined by death. We are defined by resurrection. And we need these stories of little resurrection in our lives. The Holy Spirit gives us two reasons why. First, we're told that we need these stories of resurrection, we need to talk to each other of how life is at work in us and of how life is sustaining us -- the life of Christ -- first because of external death. That is to say in verses 36 and 37, we're told that others had trials of mockings and scourgings, trials of chains and imprisonments. And in these four trials, we are introduced to that oppression and persecution that Christians sometimes endured. It is a temporary suffering. There is an imposition on our bodies and on our hearts. We are mocked. We are scourged. We are chained. And we are imprisoned. This of course can be applied literally to the persecuted church around the world.

 

We can also apply it to ourselves, but as the sins and sorrows that we experience spiritually. Many of you have come here in trial, feeling on your wrists and on your ankles the weight and the burden of sin: yours and others'. Feeling the hurts and feeling the wounds.

 

There is this oppression and this persecution and this pressure that bears down on us. We're told in verse 37 they were stoned, sawn in two, and slain with the sword. These three together speak of the permanent suffering. The first four speak of temporary sufferings. These three speak of permanent sufferings: that there are those who can take our lives.

 

There are those who can permanently cause us to depart from this life: a death that is imposed upon us. But not only do we face the reality that there are those who can take from our bodies life, but there are also those who can take from our bodies righteousness through temptation. Who can cause a kind of spiritual death by luring us away from obedience to God. We need these stories of resurrection to remind us that when we trip and when we fall and when we sin, that's not the end of the story. There is forgiveness after failure.

 

So that when we are tempted and when we fall there is restoration yet to come. And when we are burdened and when we are brought low and when we are small and when we are weak and when we are frail that it's not the end of the story.

 

There are more stories to tell: stories of life and stories of resurrection that all anticipate that better resurrection. So that the sufferings of this life, these sufferings of this season, are not the defining feature of who we are.

 

But secondly, we are given a second reason: internal suffering. Internal suffering is why we need stories of resurrection. We're told in verse 37 that they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins.

 

As someone who has worn mostly artificial and manufactured fabric all my life, mass-produced in some country that I struggle to pronounce, by someone I've never met -- I don't quite grasp immediately what the huge problem is here. But in the ancient society, to be robed in sheepskin and goatskin is to be poor. It is to be deprived, to be destitute. They were afflicted and tormented; they were outside the ordinary economy. They did not participate in the peace and prosperity of society. They were afflicted and driven to the fringes of the world. They were a persecuted minority, unwelcomed, unwanted, unloved. Indeed, they were even tormented, teased and harassed, bullied and abused, a people not wanted, not welcomed, not loved. They wandered about in deserts, mountains, dens, and caves. They had to live far from civilization. They weren't in cities full of power and prosperity. They weren't in royal palaces, well-dressed and covered in glory and well-being.

 

No, they were out on the edges of the world. We see that echoed in the life of our savior, do we not? He came to his own and his own did not receive him. "Foxes have dens," he said. "Birds have nests, but the son of man has no place to lay his head." We live in a world where we suffer homelessness. Where we suffer loneliness. Where we suffer friendlessness. Where we know hunger, where we know thirst, where we know fatigue and sleep deprivation, where we know pain. And it works within us a kind of death and the kind of agony for which we need the stories of resurrection.

 

Jesus was standing on the edge of his friend's grave. He knew Lazarus was going to die. Jesus delayed his arrival four days so that he would die.

 

He knew he was going to raise him from the dead. He had gone there specifically to raise him from the dead.

 

And when he heard the cries of his loved ones and when he saw the stone over the face of the grave -- you know the verse? -- Jesus wept.

 

There was a death at work within him. In fact, the text will also tell us that Jesus groaned. That great Greek word -- Jesus groaned -- does not refer to pain. It refers to anger.

 

When Martha says "But Lord, he stinks," Jesus knows. He hates the stench of death. He hates the curse of sin and misery, and he is angry with the grave. He is angry with death. He is angry with the world and he groans in the shadow of the grave.

 

Jesus' enemies plant the man with the withered hand in the synagogue on the Sabbath. And Jesus takes one look at that man, and he says to the those who are trying to trap him, "Is it better to do good or evil on the Lord's day?" And they don't answer.

 

It's a really easy question. It's a pretty straightforward answer. Is it better to do good or evil on any day, much less the Lord's day? But they don't answer.

 

And in Mark's gospel, it says Jesus looked around at them in anger. He's angry at their sin. He's angry at the hard hearts. He's angry at the rebellion and the death and the curse. And of him the world is not worthy.

 

And of his prophets, of his priests, and of his kings -- all who have lived in this world and yet not of this world -- who were of the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of glory, of the new heavens and the new Earth to come -- who were of that divine character -- of that heavenly reality, who lived according to the principle of resurrection, not the principle of death: Of them this world is not worthy.

 

And so they killed him.

 

For this reason we need stories of resurrection. We need stories where we say to one another, "There is life in death. There is life after death." And there are two results, two fruits that come. That if we will suffer the weight of this world and its sin and its misery and its death and its curse, and bear it up for our lives; and if we will live with this death agonizing us within -- this struggle in our souls -- There are two fruits that can come when we tell stories of resurrection in those situations.

 

First in verse 39, "all these obtained a good testimony through faith." They did not receive the promise. You know what they did receive? A good story.

 

They received a good story. They received a good testimony. Hebrews chapter 11. The Holy Spirit inspired an anonymous author to write down their names, verse after verse, and say, have you heard Abraham testimony? What a story! There was a baby after the guy's reproductive organ died! There was life after death!

 

Did you hear Abraham's story? His testimony: he had that same son bound on the fire and in the wood, and there was a giant knife over his chest and his rib cage and he did not die.

 

Have you heard Noah's testimony? Have you heard Isaac's testimony? Joseph's testimony: "You all meant it for evil, but God meant it for good, to save you." This is Joseph testimony. It's a good testimony.

 

Have you ever shared your testimony? Do you have a testimony? Do you have a story of resurrection? Of how God gave you life when you were dead? Maybe maybe it's a small story, a little resurrection. Maybe it's only one or two little stories about one or two little resurrections. Maybe you're young. And you haven't accumulated resurrection stories yet. Maybe you're old and you've got a pocket full of resurrection stories. And a backpack full of resurrection stories. Maybe you're an American and you don't spend a lot of time with the dead. Maybe you're busy and you just don't see all the life and resurrection happening within you and around you.

 

That all that death upon you and all that death within you really does feel like it's winning. And really does feel like it's actually in control. And you need a text like Hebrews 11 to sort of say, "No no: time out." It's resurrection that's winning. And it's eternal life that wins.

 

Is that your story? Do you have these little stories to share with each other tonight in prayer meeting? Do you have these little stories to bring to your midweek group? To say, here's a little story where life came into the world; where life came into this dying heart; where life came into this dying work; where life came into this dying man, this dying woman; where there was resurrection, where there was birth; where there was life in spite of and after death.

 

This is the first fruit. We are handed a good testimony. We are handed a lifetime of little stories of little resurrections to share with each other, so that at the end of the day, we all know there's a real resurrection coming, a better resurrection coming.

 

The second fruit. The second result is in verse 40: God having provided something better for us. Boy, I hope that word is like a finger on a guitar string in your heart, or a violin string.

 

Do you hear that word? Better.

Where have I heard that word "better"?

What does that word "better" mean to you, long time hearers of the book of Hebrews?

He has provided something better for us -- a better resurrection, he called it in verse 35. But for 11 chapters, he has called it Jesus.

 

He has provided something better. Better than me, better than you, better than us, better than dawn, better than dusk, better than sleep, better than Sabbath. He is Christ who is our Sabbath. Who is our rest, who is our resurrection and our life. God has provided something better for us. That we should be united to Christ by faith. And that they -- that is our fathers, our ancestors -- should have these stories of resurrection that cannot be completed until our stories are added to them. They cannot be made perfect until our stories are added to their stories. And our stories cannot be made perfect until our kids' stories and our grandkids' stories and our great-grandkids' stories -- and depending on how long Jesus takes -- great great great great great great grandkids' stories are added to our stories.

 

There is no perfect story until all the stories have come together into one great story. This is what faith is doing. Faith is drawing individual humans throughout the history of humanity into a relationship with God through the person and work of Jesus Christ so that all our stories accumulate into one story: Jesus saves sinners.

 

That's the story. That's the story of your life. That's the story of this church.

 

That's the story of humanity and the world: that God has provided something better for us. That he himself should come into the world in the person and work of Jesus Christ and make perfect everything in one great story.

 

On Friday, we headed down to Presbytery to celebrate and to prepare. And by God's grace, we were able to celebrate the life that was going on. The student under care did well. The presbyters argued and debated in love. There was life at work in our Presbytery, life at work in our church.

 

And there was one little refrain. There kept being this little phrase that kept coming up. We talked about holiness -- it was very good, but don't forget: holiness is being in Christ. We kept talking about building the church, but don't forget this: that we build the church in Christ.

 

And at one point in the examination, somebody was asked, "What happens to believers when they die?" When believers die their bodies do rest in the grave until the resurrection, still united to Christ.

 

And in that moment, I realized what that day was. It was the 28th birthday of a 17-year-old boy who never made it past 17. We buried him in 2013. I've never gotten over it.

 

He has.

My friends, I miss him.

He doesn't miss me.

 

Resurrection defines his life: eternal life. And Christ defined his whole view, his whole world. All must and shall be well. Jesus raises the dead.

 

Do you get that? Is that your story? Jesus raises the death. Well, find those little stories of resurrection; live on them; nourish your faith with them. Please pray with me.

 

Our Father in heaven we thank you for this beautiful day. For the sun that is shining forth in the heavens declaring your glory, your majesty and your wrath against sin. And we give you thanks our Father, for the sun who is shining in these scriptures; that the light of Christ would come upon us with power; that in our darkest and most death-overwrought days, we should know the hope of the resurrection. And Father, we confess that there are many of us in this room today who have felt death at work within us this week. And who see death looming before us this week yet to come. And many of us have shed many tears and many of us are about to shed many tears. And so we give you thanks that you in your sovereign providence planted this scripture passage on this Sunday over a year ago. So that these words would be ours just when we needed them.

 

And we pray Father that you would write them through the power of your spirit upon our hearts, work them in our thoughts. That these truths, that this hope would through faith be worked out into our lives and change the way we think, the way we feel, the way we speak, the way we act. For this we ask in Jesus name. Amen.

 

Let's respond to the preaching of the word by singing from his word. Psalm 118 selection D. Jesus sang this Psalm with his disciples in the upper room. These words were on the lips of your savior as he prepared to go to the cross. "I will not pass away in death. No, I will surely live." Jesus, the night in which he was betrayed, was defined by resurrection, not death. He knew that life came after death. Beloved, with resurrection in our hearts, in our minds, let us stand to sing Psalm 118 selection D.

-- Noah Bailey

Cambridge RPC

March 24, 2024

A Personal Retracing of Redemptive History

“The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever” (John 8:35)

 

As a Christian matures he or she normally retraces the redemptive history of the church as it grew from childhood to adulthood. The church under law, from Sinai to the rending of the temple curtain, is pictured as a child under guardians, and is analogous to the person under the oversight of the Law, being “held captive” and “imprisoned” (Gal 3:23). The church released from the “law for righteousness” (Rom 10:4) is pictured as an adult and is analogous to the person blessed with fellowship by means of the indwelling of God’s Holy Spirit, beholding the glory of the Lord (II Cor 3:18), and set free to walk in freedom and in the good works which God has prepared (Eph 2:10).

 

Paul writes to the Galatian church: “Now before faith came, we were held captive under the law, imprisoned until the coming faith would be revealed. So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian…I mean that the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything, but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by his father. In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world. But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son… to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons…So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God” (Gal 3:23-4:7, ESV).

 

Paul identifies two periods of time: “before faith came” and “now that faith has come,” and establishes the transition point as the advent of Christ. He draws a parallel between a child (who does not differ from a slave) and the church under the law; and a parallel between an adult and the church “no longer under a guardian.” When Paul writes, “before faith came,” he does not mean that faith was not operative prior to Christ’s first advent.1 Rather, his purpose is to illustrate the stark distinction between the life of faith for a follower of God during the childhood of the church – living under the control of the law (likened to a child under guardians) and enslaved to the elementary principles of the world (Gal. 4:9; Col. 2:20); and the life of faith for a follower of God experienced in the adulthood of the church, enjoying the nurturing influence of the Holy Spirit (likened to one who has come of age) – a stark distinction indeed!

 

If we consider the history of the church as a template for the way in which God works in the life of a person throughout the process of salvation, then several benefits can be realized.

 

First, the preaching and teaching of ministers may more readily highlight the benefits and obligations of consecration, by which is meant the set-apart condition experienced by those who comprise the people of God: men, women, and children. This place of benefit, blessing, obligation, and curse was experienced during the times of Noah, Abraham, and throughout Israel’s history; it is now experienced by the church of the New Covenant/Testament. With this retracing idea in mind ministers may more readily highlight the many benefits enjoyed by the people of the church of God, which are summed up succinctly by Paul when he writes, “…to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises” (Rom. 9:4, ESV), while also highlighting to those in their care the weighty obligation of being named among God’s people. Those under the Law not only benefited from the rule of God, but when one was found unrepentant he or she “…died without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses” (Heb. 10:28). The author of Hebrews demonstrates the greater guilt and punishment upon the unrepentant under the New Covenant when he writes, “How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace” (vs. 29)? As Jesus says, “Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more” (Luke 12:48b, ESV).

 

Second, from this perspective we may be able to more fully grasp how unnatural it is for one who claims to be in Christ to remain in a state of infancy; or said positively: how natural is the expectation that with conversion comes growth and maturity. As the author of Hebrews candidly states, “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil” (Heb 5:12-14, ESV). Indeed, the maturing process of the church is a latent exhortation to each member that he or she engage in pursuing, and encourage others in the pursuit of, personal growth and maturity through all the means of grace that God has provided.

 

Third, this concept can remind us to avoid impatience both with ourselves and others during the process of spiritual maturation. The history of the church shows that God is consistently and patiently working out His perfect plan and promises to complete His work in each believer faithfully. Those newly converted need milk and would choke on solid food. A new Christian may have sensitivities of conscience which those of greater maturity do not. As Paul reminds us in Romans 14:3, “Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him” (ESV). In addition, this perspective can comfort the believer beset with sorrow over sin by avoiding the false hopes of immediate maturity and absolute perfection.

 

Fourth, with this principle in view, elders may more freely warn those in their care to avoid the broad faithlessness and formalism of the Old Covenant/Testament church. As the author of Hebrews writes, “For good news came to us just as to them, but the message they heard did not benefit them, because they were not united by faith with those who listened” (Heb. 4:2). Those of the Old Covenant experienced the power and presence of God through the deliverance from Egypt, passage through the Red Sea, the encounter at Mount Sinai, and safety and sustenance in the desert; yet most failed to place their faith in God. By application, although we are nourished by the spiritual food and drink of Christ as those who passed through the Red Sea (I Cor. 10:1-5), although we have been marked with the sign of regeneration (now being baptism instead of circumcision), and although we receive the blessings which accrue to the people of God (Rom. 9:4, 5; Heb. 6:4, 5), let us not be found to have “…an evil, unbelieving heart, leading [one] to fall away from the living God” (Heb. 3:12). It is critical to not rely upon religious experiences, covenant signs, family history, participation in the sacraments, etc., as the grounds for reconciliation with God and security in that relationship. What matters is a new creation (Gal. 6:11-16) by God’s Holy Spirit, manifesting itself in love and good deeds (Heb. 10:24). Indeed, one purpose for the communication of Israel’s history is “…as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did” (I Cor. 10:6).

 

Fifth and finally this idea can act as a preventative measure to avoid the error of carrying forms of the Old Covenant into the New – what Paul often calls ‘elementary principles’ (e.g. Col. 2:8, 20). When the New Covenant church perpetuates Old Covenant forms which do not belong, or creates strange elements from scratch – which carry their own collection of problems – the result is to perpetuate a lack of both ecclesiastical and personal maturity resulting in the New Covenant church behaving as if it is still under guardians and managers instead of free and obligated to live as a faithful adult. To continue with shadows such as priests, sacrifices, holy objects and spaces, musical instruments, etc. destroys their typical meaning and short-circuits the lessons they were intended to teach. To continue with the shadows obscures the freedom and access Christians enjoy in the New Covenant economy (Heb. 12:18-24; Gal. 4:21-31). It distracts our minds from the now-present realities which cast these shadows, and obstructs our view of Christ behind forms no longer necessary or allowed.

 

Therefore, the template of redemptive history can have great value to the church. It can remind each of us to pursue holiness and lay aside anything that hinders and entangles (Heb. 12:1). It can remind all of us to stir one another up to love and good works (Heb 10:24) while being patient with each other through this life-long journey of growth. It can embolden those who preach and teach to declare the Law and the Gospel in all their terror and beauty. And finally, it can remind us to avoid any forms and accoutrements of worship that would be destructive to the Gospel and are no longer necessary under the freedom, simplicity, and beauty of the New Covenant.

Keegan O'Bannon

 

1

The law did not restrain those under the Old Covenant from faith, but rather restrained them so that they would not wander from the fold of faith. In another place Paul wrote of Abraham that “his faith was ‘counted to him as righteousness’” (Rom. 4:22). Indeed, faith has been the operative mechanism of salvation throughout human history.

Euphemisms

 

Euphemisms allow us to say something in a delicate way, or to soften difficult things, or to hide the truth. Every language has its euphemisms. In Hebrew, the euphemism for a man having sexual intercourse with his wife appears early in Genesis: “And Adam knew his wife Eve, and she conceived and bare Cain (Genesis 4:1 KJV).” Many euphemisms are harmless, even if they make it hard for foreigners learning a language to know what is being talked about. In Modern Greek, “Where is the place?” means, “Where can I find a toilet?” The word “toilet” itself is an English euphemism, because the word used to mean preparing to present oneself to the public, that is, a dressing room. It may be good or bad to use any particular euphemism, but they should be understood as euphemisms, mainly because people sometimes use them deceitfully to manipulate opinion.

 

Here are five English euphemisms that are not harmless: sex worker, gaming, death with dignity, fetus, and even the word deceased.

 

1. Sex Worker is a new term intended to sanitize something ugly. It is used in place of pejorative terms like whore, prostitute, harlot, hooker, call girl, courtesan, tart, streetwalker, and more such words that carry moral disapproval. Sometimes slyly called the world’s oldest profession, prostitution deserves its bad name. Paul warns believers in Corinth to avoid prostitutes. “Know ye not that your bodies are the members of Christ? shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them the members of an harlot? God forbid…Flee fornication (I Corinthians 6:15-18 KJV).” Prostitutes are not beyond salvation, of course. The prostitute Rahab hid Israel’s spies in her house in Jericho and became a hero of the faith, later marrying into Israel and becoming an ancestor of Christ. (Hebrews 11:31, Matthew 1:5).

 

The term “sex worker” makes the sale of sex sound like cutting hair, a service like any other. The new name for prostitute purports to rescue a “marginalized” and “vulnerable community” from prejudice and dehumanization by people who disapprove of their service. In fact, whores dehumanize themselves by offering their bodies for sale; their customers degrade their humanity by buying their intimate services for a few minutes. The term “sex worker,” of course, is also meant to pave the way to make prostitution fully legal. The result will be more women forced into sex slavery.

 

“Sex workers” are indeed vulnerable, not to the word that names them, but to their pimps who control them. Happy talk about “the sex industry” puts lipstick on a pig. Where it must be talked about, “prostitute,” both as noun and verb is accurate. It does not cover up evil. Instead, it condemns it by a name made ugly by what it describes.

 

Don't call such women (and men) “sex workers;” rather identify them accurately as “prostitutes.”

 

2. Gaming Industry is a similar whitewashing word. One hears about “the gaming industry” all the time on TV business shows and reads about it in The Wall Street Journal. “Gaming” replaces the honest word “gambling.” A country that for a time sequestered gambling in Las Vegas, Atlantic City, and the illegal numbers rackets now has casinos and lotteries everywhere. Who wins? Casino owners and lottery operators win. Who loses? Everyone, addicted people the most. Lottery “games” prey on the poor; they are the states’ way of taxing them. Gambling promises wealth for no work. It delivers poverty. One is more likely to be hit by lightning than to win a Powerball lottery for hundreds of millions of dollars, but local evening news programs delight in reporting on such lottery winners.

 

“Gaming,” that is, Gambling, offers nothing positive to society except momentary diversion and excitement and a faux increase in the fiction called “Gross Domestic Product.” It is not an “industry” at all. It produces neither food, nor clothing, nor goods, nor housing. Gambling never made any country or community rich. Renaming gambling “Gaming” is verbal deceit.

 

Always call it “gambling.” Leave off the “industry.”

 

3. Death with Dignity is a slogan for killing people before they die in God’s time, a term that replaces the earlier “Euthanasia,” popular and promoted by American Progressives until the German Nazis made it disreputable. The Death with Dignity Center in Portland, Oregon, has agitated for over two decades for “Death with Dignity laws,” that is, provision for legal assisted suicide. Oregon, Washington, Montana, Vermont, Hawaii, New Jersey, Maine, New Mexico, and Washington D.C. now allow doctors to help people kill themselves. From the “Death with Dignity” website: “Since 1994 Death with Dignity has advocated for the fundamental freedom of choice in end-of-life options for all.”

 

The right to “die with dignity,” once widely established, will become in practice the duty to die. The final year of most people’s lives is often painful and expensive. “Death with Dignity” in the long run will lead to this: “Why not just kill the sick old woman and save everyone a lot of trouble and expense?” Counselors can nudge her towards the right decision. “Why don’t you just save yourself a lot of pain and your loved ones a lot of trouble and expense by having us help you die easily and painlessly? It can be your last act of love for your family.”

 

Never say, “Death with dignity.” It’s just killing people innocent of any crime for convenience sake.

 

4. and 5. Fetus and Deceased are two Latinate words used to reduce emotion around the beginning and end of life. “Fetus” is Latin for baby. “Deceased” is from the Latin for dead. Exercising the “right to choose [abortion]” to rid a mother of her baby before it is born has long been made easier by using “fetus” in place of “baby.” The terms mean the same thing, but the Anglo-Saxon word “baby” carries love and caring with it while a “fetus” sounds clinical and alien. Who knows what a “fetus” is, maybe just “a clump of cells” as was urged fifty years ago?

 

People use “deceased” when they want to soften death. The Hebrew Bible does it differently, punctuating the oldest genealogy with the refrain, “and he died (Genesis 5).” Both “fetus” and “deceased” are face-averting terms. “Deceased” is a mostly harmless word, but death itself is ugly, God’s punishment for sin. Should we soften death? “The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away (Psalm 90:10 KJV).” “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart (Ecclesiastes 7:2 KJV).”

 

The euphemism “sex worker” weakens respect for God’s command, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” The older language of prostitute is honest. “Death with dignity” undermines respect for God’s command, “Thou shalt not kill,” as does the word “fetus.” “Gaming” instead of “gambling” undermines God’s command not to covet another's wealth. “Deceased” attempts to lie about our earthly destiny. “Sex worker,” “death with dignity,” “gaming,” “deceased,” and even “fetus” -- dishonest words, all! Don’t use them!

Bill Edgar

Intensely Human

 

In a letter written nine months after he arrived in the British-held island of Cyprus in September 1938, E. Clark Copeland, a future professor at RPTS, gave his impressions. He described the startling sight of a man lighting a Camel cigarette while riding a camel, or of seeing an ox and a donkey yoked together – unequally, of course. One thing in Copeland’s article got my attention: without explanation he wrote, “One always feels like the people here are intensely human (Covenanter Witness, 8/30/1939 p 132).”

 

In 1972 a girl whom I had as a student at the American Academy in Larnaca came back from America after Christmas. She had won a Fulbright Exchange Scholarship to spend a year going to school in America. “I couldn’t stand it there,” she told me. “Everyone lived so far apart; I never saw anyone else except at school. You couldn’t even shout to the neighbors and be heard.” She made her wealthy suburban life in America sound like the portrayal of hell in C. S. Lewis’ book The Great Divorce (1945), where people constantly move further away from one another, as though they were galaxies spinning off into the vastness of Space.

 

In 1992 we moved from what in Philly is called a twin house (called semi-detached or townhome in other places) to a larger house where we had room for child number five. We gained space inside the house and outside in the yard, but we lost neighbors. In our twin, close neighbors applauded after hearing us sing in family worship. That has never happened in our new home. In our twin I got caught lying on the floor showing a neighbor boy the proper way to throw a temper tantrum (must pound both fists and feet!), when his mother came to the door to call him home for bed. Neighbors do not come to the door where we live now.

 

What connects the paragraphs above? “It is not good for a man to be alone (Genesis 2:18).” In his book Politics 1.2 Aristotle famously wrote that “Man is a political animal,” a misleading translation. What he wrote is, “Man is a city animal,” meaning that people thrive in cities where human connections are intense and purposeful. The early Christian Church, faced with the burgeoning popularity of hermits, herded would-be hermits into monasteries. There they had to work and pray together, directed by an abbot, and not live alone.

 

When we lived in Cyprus, if someone wanted to talk with us, they came and knocked on our door. Good manners required that we open the door, invite them in, and offer them at least a glass of water. Likewise, if we wished to talk with someone, we left our house, walked, and then knocked on a door. If no one was home, we turned around and walked home or went to visit someone else. My wife Gretchen bought food at the market, mostly alongside men who generally did the food shopping. There was always a lot of talk between buyers and sellers. All commercial transactions involved personal interactions. Want to deposit a check? You went into a bank and dealt with a teller personally. Maybe you had become friends over the months and said a few words about the weather or the family.

 

What do people in America do now? There is the ATM to deposit a check, or maybe a photo on a smartphone. If you buy things on Amazon, there is no need to talk to anyone. Even phone calls are becoming rare. People schedule conversations with a text message first! The phone is less personal than a house visit. A text is less personal contact than a phone call. Having food delivered is less personal interaction than going to the grocery store, especially if one avoids self-checkout and goes through a cashier's line, with whom one can exchange a few words. A dishwasher is less personal than one person washing the dishes and another drying and a third putting them away, as it was done in our house in my childhood. Before the gramophone and the radio and their progeny, people made their own music. Wasn’t that more fun, really, than always listening to professionals? As a family, we still sing together in family worship – the Christian Church persists in so many good things – and at Christmas time. That’s about it, however, not like earlier generations at all.

 

Thesis One: As people’s lives arrange themselves with less and less personal contact, people become less lively. Less human contact promises more efficiency, but it delivers less humanness. As long as “best practices” of buying and selling; making and using; learning to read and write keep elevating efficiency – more, faster, with less and less input of money, time, human contact, and emotion – there will be no escape from becoming ever less involved with others (See Jacque Ellul, The Technological Society, 1954). God made us to be Connected Selves, not Individualists, Heroic or otherwise (See “The Connected Self: Whose Son Are You?” A Little Strength (6.4).”) God made us to connect above all to him, then to family, church, neighbors and nation, animals, and the soil itself. Subtract these normal connections one by one and a person starts feeling lonely and anxious, not knowing who he is. Gardening turns out to be an effective anti-depressant! So do animals.

 

Thesis Two: We will not escape from the technological imperative of human-separating “best practices,” not to mention the effects of the looming AI world, until we give up our devotion to the single-goal focus on efficiency. Instead, we need to begin asking ourselves, “Will doing this chore in this way increase or decrease my contact with God and his world, or will it wall me off in my own head, laptop in hand?”

 

Thesis three: So far people have not succeeded in making childbearing more efficient. It is nine months from conception to birth; a year until baby reliably sleeps all night, learns to walk, and starts talking; two years at least until toilet replaces diaper; and sixteen years until driver’s license and the kid can schlep himself wherever. With a second child one starts all over again. A hundred years of “expert” advice has not eased the burden of child-rearing. No wonder “successful” people usually have few children: their time-consuming demands get in the way of success. Despite daycare centers and even surrogate motherhood, having children remains stuck in the pre-industrial age. Good. Perhaps the dropping birthrate in rich countries stems partly from the stubborn refusal of children to make their rearing “efficient.” Nations are starting to commit national suicide by faster and faster population decline. The rich entrepreneur Elon Musk got attention recently for labeling DINKs (Double Income No Kids) couples as selfish and genetic dead-ends. Is he right about that? The Bible calls children a blessing and has only pity for couples with no children. “No babies, no future” is an iron law of demographics.

 

In Cyprus in 1939 people were poorer than we are – not starving, but not as rich as we in the things of this world. They were, however, connected to animals and the soil, always talking to extended family and their neighbors. Perhaps that is why the young E. Clark Copeland in 1939 wrote about how “intensely human” the people of Cyprus felt to him. Sadly, Cyprus now has a European birth rate and cars have replaced donkeys. It is called Progress.

 

P.S. If you want to talk to me, just call me. Don’t try to have a text conversation back and forth. Yuk!

 

P.P.S. I love word processing, however. I’m not going back to the typewriter or hand-written everything.

– Bill Edgar

Righteousness, the Bodyguard

Righteousness guards him whose way is blameless, but sin overthrows the wicked.” – Proverbs 13:6

 

In this proverb, Solomon personifies “Righteousness” as an ever-present bodyguard, and “Sin” as a sudden assailant. Similarly, the Bible elsewhere likens righteousness to a protective breastplate, and compares sin to a crouching lion (Ephesians 6:14, Genesis 4:7). The well-armed bodyguard keeps his eyes constantly moving, looking for any sign of danger. A lion sneaks in the dark, beautiful, but waiting to attack when the moment is right.

 

One day, while walking home from school, my son fell in step with a girl in his class. Suddenly, three guys jumped over the wall of the cemetery to their right. They were drunk and came menacingly on the attack. Instinctively, my son stepped in front of the girl, kicked the first would-be attacker in the knee, and punched the second one. All three fled. He was the bodyguard she needed at that moment. Righteousness is such a bodyguard, peacefully with you, but able to spring into action when needed.

 

Whom does Righteousness guard? He guards the person on the right path. Climbing in the Catskill Mountains one summer on an escarpment overlooking the Hudson Valley, we started along a path. We thought it was the right one, but it soon petered out. Soon we were walking within a foot or two of the cliff’s edge. One slip of a foot and someone would have fallen to his death. A bodyguard would have been no help. Turning back, we found the right trail, where a guide could help anyone who fell. Righteousness guards the person who is on the right path.

 

Whom does Righteousness guard? A friend told me this story. She was part of her high school band color guard for three years. At the end of her senior year, the other girls thought they should tell her the truth about themselves. They were all runarounds, but because they knew she would not join them, they never invited her to their drunken, slutty parties. She had no idea. Righteousness often guards the way of the blameless in ways that the blameless never know.

 

Like a lion, sin attacks the wicked. God rejected Cain’s sacrifice of some of the fruit of the ground, while accepting Abel’s sacrifice of the best of his flock. Off the right path, Cain envied Abel. So the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it (Genesis 4:6-7).” Rather than doing what is right, Cain fed his anger against Abel. Suddenly, sin overthrew Cain – it took but little to tip him over the edge of the escarpment. He found Abel his brother in the field and killed him. God banished Cain, making him a wanderer and a fugitive. The ground he once tilled would no longer give him food. Sin overthrew the wicked.

Bill Edgar

Ungentle Effective Reformation

A Review of Margo Todd's

The Culture of Protestantism in Early Modern Scotland

2002

 

 

Margo Todd is a professional historian, so in her book about Scotland from roughly 1560-1660, she neither rejoices nor laments the Reformation. Instead, she asks, “How did it happen? How did the behavior of a whole people change? How did the national culture of Scotland change from Catholic to Protestant, leaving a ceremonial world of 'bells and smells,’ with pictures of saints and the mystery of the Mass, to become a Church emphasizing Word, Sacraments, and Discipline?” To answer her question, Todd pays no attention to John Knox, General Assemblies, Acts of Parliament, or Books of Discipline. Instead, she mines the copious Kirk (i.e., Church) Session Minutes collected in Edinburgh’s archives to find out what was happening in hundreds of parishes.

 

What did Todd find? First, the Kirk Sessions were doing mostly the same thing everywhere, no doubt because they were part of an international movement of Reformed churches with their headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland. Second, the Kirk Sessions oversaw the shift from Catholic to Reformed life with full awareness of popular tradition. For example, the yearly Spring Communion Season, with fast days, preparations, examinations, and finally the Communion Service with Thanksgiving afterwards, bore a marked resemblance to springtime Catholic Lenten and Easter Services. Third, while the nobles eagerly confiscated the extensive monastic lands for themselves, thus depriving the poor of most of their support, each parish had an active poor box.

 

The Kirk Sessions taught their parishes the Word, with required Sabbath Day attendance at worship services. The preacher taught, and taught, and taught the people, both those who could read and those who could not. Preachers had to preach extempore: no dull reading of sermons. Household heads were responsible to gather their charges for daily prayers. To be admitted to the Lord’s Table, each member had to meet with the Session beforehand: did they know the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Creed; were they at odds with anyone; were they living lives of sobriety and honesty? Eligible parishioners got tokens admitting them to Communion, tokens so valued that counterfeits circulated. After Word and Sacrament, there was Discipline, usually very public. Penitent sinners had to sit on a stool at the front of the church, confess their sins, accept the session’s reprimands, and publicly reconcile with those whom they had wronged. Todd points out some social benefits of such discipline. It made life in both town and country less violent. It cut down on fornication and thus reduced the incidence of poverty-stricken unmarried mothers. Sessions limited the time between engagement and marriage to only a few weeks to reduce temptation to consummating a marriage too early. Todd recounts hair-raising discipline issues: two women brawling during a church service over placement of their stools; a woman trying to bring her daughter into a threesome with her and her boyfriend; all-out fights between neighbors. The amount of work the elders did was exhausting.

 

Was the new Church just “the Catholic Priest writ large,” as more than one observer charged? The Sessions certainly oversaw behavior much more closely than did Catholic bishops, who often lived far from individual parishes. However, the emphasis on everyone knowing the Word of God was new, as were plans for teaching universal literacy. Some church teachings definitely changed, for example, the Real Presence of Christ in Communion in place of the Transubstantiation of the bread and wine into the very body and blood of the Lord.

 

Since Todd is now located at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, I spent an hour with her talking about her book. “What got you interested in the Reformation in Scotland?” I asked. She began her career studying 17th Century England, and then a fellow historian pointed her to Scotland. She found the archives in Edinburgh delightful, not crowded like in England. One day, an archivist approached her. “We just got the Kirk minutes from a new parish from the early 1600s. Would you like to have a look?” As she told me that, I felt her excitement. YES! I told her I was part of the Reformed Presbyterian Church. She replied there are different Reformed Presbyterian churches. When she was at Harvard University, she occasionally sent students to a church in Cambridge to hear a cappella Psalm singing. “You mean the one on Antrim Street?” I asked. “Yes.”

 

Todd’s book has not attracted reviews on Amazon. Nevertheless, it has recently been reprinted in paperback. Will it help Sessions today know what to do? Not really, though it can be suggestive. Scotland 1560-1660 was vastly different from contemporary America: there was one national church divided into parishes; the entire population of Scotland was a fifth of the population of metro Philadelphia; poverty bordering on starvation was everywhere; many Scots were illiterate. Nevertheless, the Church is universal, teaching everywhere the faith once for all delivered to the saints.

 

I heard about Todd’s book from an RP elder. It is not light reading, and I read the book slowly. It lacks the broad drama of warring good and evil featured in most books about the Reformation. Nevertheless, there is drama involved in passionate extempore preaching, solemn communion seasons, and frequent public discipline. All in all, Todd’s book is an invaluable work about a Reformation that was certainly not gentle in Scotland.

– Bill Edgar

Mark Your Calendars

We note, for your calendars and prayer, upcoming events of interest to Atlantic Presbytery.

 

Installation: Pastor Hunter Jackson (11am on October 12, 2024) Broomall RPC (Philadelphia)

Spring Atlantic Presbytery Meeting (Mar 21-22, 2025) Hazleton, PA

Theological Foundations Weekend (TFW) (February 2025, exact dates are forthcoming) East Providence, RI

For juniors in high school up through age 24

Atlantic Spring Retreat (May/June 2025, exact dates are forthcoming) Beach Lake, PA

Grades 7-12

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A Little Help?

 

The Editors do not sell individual subscriptions to A Little Strength. Our goal is to publish with as little labor and financial overhead as possible. Yet mailing paper copies to Atlantic Presbytery churches and maintaining a website aren't free. If you have found A Little Strength to be interesting and profitable,

would you consider sending a contribution?

 

Make your check out to Elkins Park RPC, designated for A Little Strength,

and send it to the treasurer, at the church's address:

 

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Authors in this issue

Noah Bailey is the pastor of Cambridge RPC (Boston).

Bill Edgar is a retired pastor of Broomall RPC (Philadelphia) and the author of 7 Big Questions Your Life Depends On as well as a two volume history of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America. His newest book, Chutzpah Heroes: Thirteen Stories About Underdogs with Wit and Courage, is available on Amazon and other online vendors. Do you have a copy yet?

​Keegan O'Bannon is a member of Broomall RPC (Philadelphia).

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