I Am a Pharisee

I am a Pharisee. Wait, let me clarify that. I am a recovering Pharisee. Unlike the biblical ones, I’m not proud of it; in fact, I’m quite ashamed of it. Jesus reserved some of his harshest words for these kind of people.

Those that (think they) know me will likely be confused by this confession. I probably don’t come across as, “self-righteous and sanctimonious,” as the dictionaries put it. My particular brand of Pharisaism is mostly a heart issue: it doesn’t often bubble up into the external world. But I know it’s there, and the Lord knows it’s there. Its visible manifestations are subtle.

Mostly it emerges in the inner dialogue I have within my head. These conversations are usually with vague, shadowy opponents with whom I debate the current point of theology I’m pondering. This is extremely telling. My love for theology is primarily about being able to best someone in a debate. My love for the Scriptures is because they are the ammunition for battle. I do not contemplate different theological issues with the goal of arriving at truth so that I may love and worship God better. I do it to be well prepared to beat someone in debate. But how is it wrong to point out error?

Indeed, pointing out error is not in and of itself wrong. Jesus and the New Testament writers do it all the time. They know that false understanding about God will often result in pain. One example of false belief is thinking God has made a promise that he really hasn’t. “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” (Proverbs 22:6 ESV). The fundamental misunderstanding of many people is that the book of Proverbs is not a list of promises; it is a list of general truisms. It is certainly true that, in general, if you raise your children correctly, they will turn out to be hardworking and productive members of society. But experience tells us that this is not always the case. History is replete with examples to the contrary. The problem arises when we think of this statement as a promise from God. What does the mother think when her child turns from what he was raised? Either she thinks God is a liar, or that she is a failure. Poor understanding of God ultimately comes back to hurt.

Like Jesus and the NT writers, my motivation for discussions on Christian doctrine should be love: to demonstrate the error so that the mistaken individual will understand truth and hence avoid future pain. But it is almost never so. My motive is self-righteous, to prove in my own eyes that I am a smarter, better, stronger Christian. I get a perverse pleasure out of besting someone intellectually. I’m a Pharisee.

It also appears in my outright dismissal of people I have one small disagreement with. One of my current targets is N.T. Wright, a renowned biblical scholar. In recent years he’s been a proponent of a squirrely redefinition of justification. However, much of his other material on the life of Jesus, heaven, the Kingdom of God, the reliability of the Gospels, etc., is very orthodox and extremely helpful and well written. But because I disagree with his justification theory (which, admittedly, is an important and central doctrine) I dismiss everything he has to say. I become suspicious of anyone who quotes him or finds his writings helpful. I’m a Pharisee.

Finally, it appears in the target of my love of theology: theology itself. Biblical doctrine and understanding is supposed to drive me to loving God more fully. My heart has stolen this. I love theology for theology’s sake.

It’s a very subtle works-righteousness. Christianity has always taught that salvation is by grace: sheer unmerited favor towards a rebellious sinner. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9 ESV). I know that I can’t earn my salvation. But I approach the Bible and theology as a way of doing so. I seem to think that if I just learn enough of the right doctrines, then God will have to love me. After all, I understand him much better than the average Joe in my church.

Tim Keller, in his book, The Prodigal God, has demonstrated that what I’m doing is rebelling through obedience. I don’t obey God’s law or learn about him for the sheer pleasure of doing right by him. I do it to put him in my debt. I don’t treasure God, I treasure the things he can give me. I am trying to make him owe me temporal blessings and eternal life. I try to put myself above God, to be god myself.

How did I get this way? The root cause is my own sinful nature. I can blame no one but myself. But I can name one thing that brings my internalized Pharisaism to life: my education. This is not to say that anyone taught me to think this way. My professors have all been godly, humble, Christ-like teachers. The game of higher education itself brings the Pharisee in my heart to the surface.

One of the most tried and true methods of making sure a student understands a topic is to have him critique one of its opponents. To refute someone who denies, for example, the Trinity, the student needs to have a very firm grasp on what historic Christianity has said on this doctrine, as well as know all the Scripture to back it up. Writing papers, answering exam questions, and doing projects of this type have given an opportunity for my internal Pharisee to come to life. The methodology reinforces my love for debate. I learn things for the sake of being able to eventually defeat someone and to elevate myself above them.

Also, just the simple attribute of being educated makes me think I’m better than the riff raff who simply has not had the opportunities with which I’ve been graced. I certainly know more theological terms and ideas than the average Christian in the pew, but that definitely does not make me a better Christian. I think that because I can write a systematic theology, I know more about God and am therefore he will look on me more favorably. That’s an absurdity. There are plenty of people who can’t define precisely the difference between justification and sanctification. These same people are far more godly than I. They love better, serve better, and worship better.

But there is hope for recovering. At times, thinking about my Pharisaism has robbed me of assurance of God’s love. Am I really a Christian if I can’t say I love God more than doctrine? Am I going to be able to get past this? Is there any hope for me? But God has not allowed these errant thoughts to drive me to despair. He gently reminds me of some of those very doctrines: especially the ones about the work of the Holy Spirit.

The Bible teaches that all Christians are indwelt by the Holy Spirit, and one of his activities is the conviction of sin. The very fact that I am convicted of my Pharisaism is proof of my regeneration (that God has given me new life, ala II Cor. 5). If I were not a Christian, I would likely not care that I was so self-righteous and sanctimonious. Since I am convicted of these sins, I know that God will make progress in my heart. I will get better.

Furthermore, I have hope for recovery because of my calling to ministry. I have no doubts that the special call I felt 2 summers ago was authentic. If God has called me to ministry, then he will prepare me for it. Part of this preparation is the removal of these prideful sins. I will get better.

From a pragmatic standpoint, I blame much of my problem on being uninvolved in ministry. It’s easy to maintain Pharisaic thoughts and practices when you are stuck in academia. When you start dealing with real people, with real problems, and real misunderstandings of God, the desire to debate will shrink. I can hold spirited and strongly worded verbal fights with fictional opponents in my head. I definitely could not speak so strongly in person. Working with real people will help curb the Pharisee in me. I will get better.

So what is my next step? What I am I doing to turn from my wicked thoughts? First, I am repenting daily for my actions and beliefs. I spend some moments before going to bed asking God and myself how I have been a Pharisee that day. It is against him that I have primarily rebelled, and it is to him that I am repentant.

Second, I think about all the doctrines I’ve learned, and think especially about how they apply to me personally. I remember that Christ has perfectly obeyed his Father and fulfilled all the points of the law. I remember that he then died a brutal death on the cross in my place, to pay for my sins, though he himself was perfect. I remember that this is because God has loved me.

Finally, I need to apologize to the individuals who I’ve hurt because of my Pharisaism. I’ve maintained ill thoughts about these brothers and sisters in Christ, and have said things that have been hurtful. If any of these friends are reading this now, I offer my sincere apologies.

I am so thankful that God does not expect us to get everything right before we enter into his kingdom. Becoming Christ-like is the result of a life of following God, not the prerequisite. I’m clearly far from perfect, and I’m glad that he has begun to move me towards being a better Christian.

---

“17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. 18 All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. 20 Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:17-21)

Sermon on Ephesians 3:14-21

I preached a sermon earlier today for my homiletics class. Some people expressed interest in reading it, so I've posted the manuscript here.

My text for today is Ephesians 3:14-21, so if you have a Bible, and you would like to turn there with me, that would be great.

Prayer for Spiritual Strength

¹⁴ For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, ¹⁵ from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, ¹⁶ that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, ¹⁸ may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, ¹⁹ and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

²⁰ Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Have you ever had someone you respect pray for you personally? Perhaps your pastor, father, professor, or another respected individual? If you have, you know how it can humble you, to think that this great person would be concerned with you and your future. The Ephesians found themselves being prayed for by the Apostle to the Gentiles, arguably the greatest Christian thinker who ever lived. We’re going to take a look at Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians and see what he thought was most important for them to have. Through studying this text, we’ll see some reasons to make Paul’s prayer our prayer. After all, if it’s good enough for the Ephesians, perhaps it’ll be good enough for us…

This section starts off with: “For this reason.” The obvious question is: “for what reason?” Usually, such a question would find its answer in the immediately preceding verses. However, in this case, Paul is pointing back to the beginning of chapter 3, where he began with the same phrase. In general, Paul is a very logical thinker. Point A leads to Point B and then to Point C. Nevertheless, he often times shows a great propensity for getting sidetracked. He sometimes gets caught up in the moment, suddenly struck with ideas so profound that he is derailed from his logical progression. Ephesians 3:2-13 is one such digression and so he repeats this phrase again to get back on track. The context for this prayer, the reason for his petition, will be found in the end of chapter 2.

Chapter 2 of Ephesians, and in fact the entire book, is dominated by a theme of unity in Christ. He has reconciled all people to himself and therefore the church is to be a unit, flawlessly working together to achieve God’s plan for the world. Ephesians 2:11-22 is about Jews and Gentiles, especially, becoming one family in Christ. The last verse in chapter 2 is the clearest expression of the reason for Paul’s prayer: “²² In him [who is Christ] you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.” If the church corporately is to be a “dwelling place for God by the Spirit,” then it will be fitting to pray for individuals to experience the mystery of Christ dwelling in their hearts.

And we now come to the meat of this passage, in verses 16 through 19: “¹⁶ that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, ¹⁸ may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, ¹⁹ and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

The main goal of Paul’s prayer is that each of the Ephesians will be strengthened by God through the Holy Spirit. The Ephesians would need this strength for a number of reasons. They, like us, were challenged with being “salt and light” in a decaying world. They would need spiritual strength to live out the Christian life and be an example to the surrounding peoples. They would need spiritual strength to live out their unity in Christ.

For the Ephesians, their prejudices mainly fell among Jew-Gentile lines. The Jews had always believed that the Gentiles were godless pagans; always working to bring down God’s chosen people. The Gentiles likewise, probably thought of the Jews as a bizarre and condescending cult: deeply committed to monotheism in a polytheistic Greco-Roman world, as well as to their arrogant notions of being a specially chosen race. Today we hold similar racist and political and social prejudices. Like the Ephesians, we need to be strengthened by God to learn to leave these thoughts behind. We need to see all people for what they are: belonging to the greater family of God. For God so love the world that he gave his one and only Son so that whoever would believe in Him would have eternal life. So when you feel yourself thinking ill of others, remember that they are potential brothers or sisters in Christ. Leave your ill thoughts behind.

The Ephesians would also need strength to avoid being led astray by a fallen culture. We know from the book of Acts that Ephesus was particularly committed to the Roman goddess Artemis. Paul had already been in conflict with a mob who was shouting “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians” some years previously. The Ephesian church (especially the Gentile component) would need spiritual strength to avoid being sucked back into old pagan beliefs and practices. We too, face temptations to bring cultural baggage into the church. Some may have benefit, and some may not.

What are some examples of cultural baggage? How about the American idols of entertainment, entitlement, and independence? Do you feel entitled? Do you give a tithe, and expect programs and activities and spiritual support in return? Do you expect to be entertained during worship? Do you really think it’s all about you? Do you place your desires and needs ahead of those of the body of Christ? We need spiritual strength and discernment to notice these cultural ideas creeping in and compromising our faith and witness.

As we’ve just seen, our situation is not so radically different from that of the Ephesians. It is fitting, then, to endeavor to make Paul’s prayer our prayer. Doing so, Paul teaches, will have three aspects. We should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that Christ may dwell in us. We should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that we may have strength to understand Christ’s love. And we should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that we may be filled with the fullness of God.

Let’s look at each of these in turn. First, we should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that, as he says in verse 17, “Christ may dwell in your [our] hearts through faith.” All Christians are already united to Christ through the Spirit. Paul is not implying that the Christians in Ephesus were missing this vital part of Christian spirituality. No, he’s asking that God would reveal Christ in the believer’s hearts – the center of the personality. He’s praying that through the strength of the Holy Spirit, the Ephesians personalities would ooze Christ; that He would shine in all their actions, words, and deeds.

The word “dwell” implies making residence, to be at home in. In other words, Christ is not just there for a visit. He doesn’t come and go, providing strength when you need it, but then disappearing afterwards. No, he is always present. As he said in Matthew 28, “I will be with you always, even to the ends of the age.” Paul is praying for the Ephesians to be aware of this.

If Christ is dwelling in your heart, then there is nothing hidden from him. You must ask yourself, “who then owns the house?” When a friend is staying at your house for a visit, it may be appropriate to ask him to stay out of certain rooms. But no! Christ is not visiting; he is taking up residence there. And he is your master, who died and rose for you! There is no room that you can rightfully hide from him. Your altar room, with its idols of independence, self-fulfillment, and self-determination must be removed. He is allowed to peruse your video collection, your bookshelf, your computer history. If these things are not as they should be, repent and believe that you are forgiven. Christ died for sins such as these.

Part of this Christ dwelling is giving you a foundation. Paul prays that you will be “rooted and grounded in love” because of Christ’s indwelling. Christ, who is love, is living in you. He is your root and foundation. “Rooted” points to something you grow out of; a source of nourishment. It’s like growing a tomato in the garden. The fruit (or is it a vegetable?) takes on many of the properties and nutrients of the soil it’s planted within. If you plant it in desolate earth, full of plant killer and poison, then the fruit, if it indeed lives long enough to bear it, will be poor. It will be as poisonous as the soil that bore it. Conversely, if you plant the tomato in nutrient-rich fertilizer and Miracle Grow ™ then the fruit will be nutritious as well. By way of analogy, the Christian being rooted in love will bear the fruit of love for God and for others.

Being grounded in love is your foundation. To mix in the metaphor Jesus used, a castle built on sand will not stand up to the storms that life will throw your way. But a castle built on a rock, i.e. the love of Christ, will be able to bear the winds and the rain. In times of turmoil and pain, focus on the love God has pledged to you. God always keeps his promises, and this focus will keep your faith strong.

We should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that Christ may dwell in us.

Second, we should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that we may have strength to understand the love of Christ. Being rooted and grounded in love is the key. Paul prays that “may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, ¹⁹ and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.”

“Comprehend” carries the connotation in the Greek to grasp, to acquire. Basically, Paul is praying that we would be strengthened to be able to take hold and claim for our own the love of Christ. It’s a lot like the difference between knowing intellectually and knowing experientially. Many of you have probably broken a bone before in your life. While I haven’t been so richly blessed, I know intellectually that it hurts. I know that it hurts a lot. Before you broke it, you probably knew that as well. But once you experience it, then you really know. Likewise, from the Bible, we learn that God loves us. We can grasp that intellectually rather easily. Paul is praying that we will learn that in a more deeper way; that we will find this love, and be utterly enthralled by it.

And how can we not be enthralled by the outrageousness of this love? Think about the absurdity of it! God’s creatures are in active rebellion against him. We thumbed our noses at him, and arrogantly told him to “buzz off, we don’t need or want you.” Justice demanded that he just blow up the whole thing. But he loved us still, and sent His Son to die an excruciating death in our place. Paul wants us to know this deeply sacrificial love. It is life changing.

Christ’s love is magnificent and all encompassing. It has “breadth and length and height and depth.” Allow me to borrow from Matthew Henry, a 17^th century biblical expositor:

By enumerating these dimensions, the apostle [Paul] designs to signify the exceeding greatness of the love of Christ, the unsearchable riches of his love, which is higher than heaven, deeper than hell, longer than the earth, and broader than the sea … By the breadth of it we may understand the extent of it to all ages, nations, and ranks of men; by the length of it, its continuance from everlasting to everlasting; by the depth of it, its stooping to the lowest condition, with a design to relieve and save those who have sunk into the depths of sin and misery; by its height, its entitling and raising us up to the heavenly happiness and glory. We should desire to comprehend this love: it is the character of all the saints that they do so; for they all have a complacency and a confidence in the love of Christ.

Christ’s love is indeed rich, and we can find rest and security in it.

We end this aspect of Paul’s prayer with a paradox: to know the unknowable, “to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” These are the words of someone indeed surprised by grace. One who elsewhere describes himself as the “chief of sinners,” yet still knows something of the absurd love Christ has for his people.

How are we to learn of this love? How do we grasp it? I can think of a number of things that might help. Read scriptures that magnificently express the heights and depths of love God has for you. Meditate on the good news of Jesus: that reckless sinners can be reconciled to God. Think deeply on these ideas, and take them to heart. Then you may indeed begin to know the unknowable. Finally, like the context of these verses: pray. Pray for understanding, that God will make himself known to you. Make Paul’s prayer our prayer, that you can comprehend the love of Christ

Lastly, we should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that we may be filled with the fullness of God. Paul prays, that through understanding, even a little, of Christ’s love, we “may be filled with all the fullness of God”

The fullness of God is indeed a curious phrase. What does it mean? What is the fullness of God? Thankfully, the Bible contains both an Old Testament and New Testament. The old can often shed light on ideas found in the new. In the Old Testament, God’s Shekinah, his glory, was said to fill the temple. This particularly refers to making his presence and power felt in the hearts of the worshipers who visited.

Indeed, Paul writes elsewhere that the body is the Temple of the Holy Spirit: the new covenant temple of God. The fullness of God, then, especially refers to the believer feeling and knowing the eternal presence and power of God within himself. Christ is the fullness of God. Christ is where God has made his presence and power felt in both in history (his life, death, and resurrection) and in the individual.

In the believer, God makes his presence and power felt through a number of methods. He gives his children spiritual gifts. The Holy Spirit convicts us of sin. God sometimes guides and prompts our decisions, closing doors that lead to destruction, and opening doors that lead to life.

I can remember a few times of being filled with God’s presence: confident of his indwelling. When God confirmed my call to ministry, I felt a supernatural passion, energy, and confidence. I knew that this was what God wanted for me. Because of this experience, even during times of trouble and difficulty, I do not waver in my confidence that I’m on the right path. Hopefully you can point to some times in your life when you were sure of God’s presence.

The Christian life is indeed a spiritual one. We should make Paul’s prayer our prayer so that we may be filled with the fullness of God.

Paul ends all this, as is appropriate, with praise. “²⁰ Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Thinking and reflecting on the love of Christ, and the eternal mysteries of his union with us, drive him to doxology, they drive him to singing praises to God.

Contrary to popular conceptions, good theologians are not boring and stodgy defenders and expositors of doctrine. Their writing and thinking about the great truths God has revealed, like his dwelling in the hearts of believers and the outrageous depths of his love, fill them with hearts of praise. Paul’s writing did not just solve problems and teach truth: it drove him to spontaneous praise! It made him love God more deeply.

Think about this, especially you Christian Thought majors. Remember the altar room in your heart that I mentioned before? Have you made an idol of doctrine and placed it next to the idols of success, ministry, and knowing all the answers? Doctrine and ministry are certainly important, no one is denying that. But to love theology to the exclusion of loving Christ is just as bad as loving the Baals and Asherahs of the Old Testament. Paul doesn’t write theology because he loves theology. He writes it because he loves God, and reflecting on these thoughts makes him love God more

Now to all of you: Think about the love of God expounded thus far in Ephesians. Think about how God fills us with his presence. Think about the fact that the One who can do far more than all we can even imagine has chosen to love you, in spite of what you were.

Remember from Ephesians 2 how God has raised us up from spiritual deadness! Recall how we were once “children of wrath!”

⁴ But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God!

Amen, Amen, Amen! Know this love! Be strengthened by this love! Be filled with the fullness of this love! Let it permeate your soul, let it inform your every decision. Soak in it daily! Remember it in times of trouble and strife. Share it with everyone you encounter. Praise God for this love that is beyond understanding!

Please pray with me to close.

New Years Resolution

This year I resolve to be a better person, to treat everyone with respect and patience, never lose my temper, control my thoughts and words, read the Bible 2 hours a day and donate $1723.28 to a random charity.... blah blah blah

New years resolutions are a wonderful thing... to a point. Setting goals is never a bad thing. Writing those goals down can help you see the change in your life. But we must not forget who the true source of change is.

The problem with making new years resolutions is that we often put all the burden of change on ourselves. We subconsciously (or consciously) think we need to fix ourselves in order for God to love us. When we inevitably fail, we feel guilty, worthless, and unloved.

But that's not the gospel I know and serve. God doesn't say "clean up your life, then maybe I will love you." The message of the Gospel is "Dear child, you are dearly loved. I will take on your burdens and difficulties and sins. You are made perfect in my sight. I will do the changing. I will renew your heart and mind."

Instead of making new years resolutions then, perhaps we should just say a simple prayer: "God make me into what you want me to be. Change my life for the better this year." Remember Who is the author of change.