Repentance: a minority opinion

I mean to write more on this, and probably at Pyro. But I thought I'd throw out this brief thought for the weekend.

I've heard a lot of my fellow-Reformeds rail against explaining "repentance" as "a change of mind."

Not me. It is a change of mind. That's exactly the significance of the Greek word μετάνοια (metanoia).

What I think the critics of this explanation should do is say, not "It does not mean a change of mind," but "It does not mean a merely superficial adjustment of opinion." What they say, and what they criticize, are two different things.

Let's say you smoke cigarettes. I ask you what you think about it on Monday. You say, "I see nothing wrong with it." Then I ask you on Friday, and you say, "I've changed my mind. It's a loathsome and destructive habit, and I must stop immediately."

Then I check back two weeks later, and you're still smoking like a factory, without a single attempt to stop.

My conclusion: you adjusted your opinion superficially, but you didn't really change your mind about smoking. Because a real change of mind issues in a change of behavior, however imperfectly and however gradually.

The mind is the wellspring of life (Proverbs 4:23). It is how we are renewed (Romans 12:1-2).

Perhaps a better explanation would be: repentance is a fundamental change of mind from ungodly beliefs to God-honoring beliefs, which issues in appropriate fruits of attitude and behavior.

Rule for Life: if you can't be a genius, then associate with one

Me? I get to associate with two: Frank Turk and Phil Johnson.

To wit:

Forgiveness, yet again, and really well

I don't think I've seen one discussion of forgiveness that wraps up so much Biblical clarity. Check it out. Their responses are pretty much what I've given.

(In fact... I think they've been reading this blog!)

h-t Justin Taylor, finder of many wonderful things

Ouch: root canal; but it could be worse!

Hi gang.

I spent Friday to Tuesday either going to, being in, or returning from the Sierra. You can see some photos over at Pyro. It looks as if, by popular demand, I'll post some more, and some commentary, next week (DV).

So I got back Tuesday night. Then Wednesday morning got up while you all slept, left for work, went straight from work to spend another ~2 hours, 45 minutes in the dentist's chair as he finished a root canal over which he'd labored for about 2.5 hours the week before last. Yikes. But at least he's done.

Of course, it could have been worse!

Consider this picture from the Eastern California Museum in Independence, California. Josiah and I visited it after church Sunday. This picture speaks for itself (click for enlargement on it and the other):


And here is a closeup of the items in question:


The science of dentistry has advanced considerably since the first part of the last century, thank God!

....open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.
Psalm 81:10b KJV

Because the historical gospels aren't that interesting...

...Hollywood is evidently going to do "The Aquarian 'Gospel,'" about Jesus' "lost years."

Of course, like the "lost tribes of Israel," these years were never really lost. They're right there in Luke 2:51-52; 3:23; John 2:11. It's just that Hollywood (and the rest of the world) doesn't really like the actual life and ministry of Jesus. So it has to twist it.

I know that not all of you will agree with me, but I just don't understand why someone doesn't say, "You know, that's really a pretty excellent story just as it stands. Let's do it." If they'd even show the respect for the material that Peter Jackson showed for The Lord of the Rings (mostly), it'd make quite a series of movies.

Well, maybe I do understand it. In fact, probably I do. It's because The Lord of the Rings doesn't challenge and condemn their rebellion against God, and there is no spiritual power desperate to pervert Tolkien's story.

Confessing Christ, and controversial issues

Luther said it well:

If I profess with the loudest voice and clearest exposition every portion of the Word of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Him. Where the battle rages there the loyalty of the soldier is proved; and to be steady on all the battle front besides, is mere flight and disgrace if he flinches at that point. (Luther's Works. Weimar Edition. Briefwechsel [Correspondence], vol. 3, pp. 81f.)

(h-t fellow-obsessive ThirstyDavid)

An aside for fellow-obsessives (Taskbar)

Do you also prefer to have your Taskbar buttons in a certain order?

Years ago, I used something Button Boogie. It was cool enough, but didn't work on XP, and free support was ended. That is, they made one for XP, but it was not free.

So then I found Taskarrange, a bit of freeware that worked in XP. It was small, worked fine, but wasn't very elegant. 'Way better than nothing, and free.

But it doesn't work in Vista, and my previous email thanking the creator of Taskarrange was returned.

Then I found Taskbar Shuffle. It works with XP and Vista, and is a very nice interface. You can just drag the buttons into the order you want.

Plus you can even rearrange the system tray icons!

Cool. No problems so far. I recommend it.

Why I blinked my headlights at you

I drive to work very early, when it is still dark. On my way in, I see a lot of idiots propelling thousands of pounds of steel, plastic, rubber, and gasoline down the road, weaving in and out of dozens of wives, husbands, parents, and children.

One particular category of idiots feels it doesn't need to signal lane-changes.

When this category does it in front of me, at night I'll blink my headlights off and on repeatedly; during the day, I'll flash my high-beams.

I assume these folks aren't among the nations brightest, so I'm sure some of them (if they notice it at all) dully wonder, "Huh?" Or something less articulate.

And I've always pictured that if they addressed the "Huh?" to me in person, I'd respond:

"I noticed you lunging and careening from lane to lane without signalling. I figured there could only be one of five reasons for this:

1. You're drunk or on drugs
2. You're falling asleep
3. Your car's turn-signal is malfunctioning
4. You are unaware of or don't care about the law requiring the user of turn-signals
   
5. You are unaware or don't care that there are actually other cars driven by precious, irreplaceable human beings on the road with you
   

"In any of these cases, it seems to me that my flicking my lights is a polite, low-impact way of saying, 'Dude, either wake up, sober up, or wise up — whichever applies.' See, because these people you're so mindless of are my neighbors, or they could be my friends, or they could be my wife, my son, my daughter. And I want you to bring your game up."

This may seem peevish to you — especially if you drive a white car, in which case evidently your turn signal was disabled at the factory, or you feel that none of the laws of God, nature, or man apply to you. But I actually do have a deeper reason. I open it up a bit further here, but to approach it from a different angle, here 'tis:

When it goes well with the righteous, the city rejoices,
and when the wicked perish there are shouts of gladness. (Proverbs 11:10)

The blessing of upright men exalts a town,
But by the mouth of wicked men it is torn down (Proverbs 11:11, my translation)

And one from the brilliant John Adams:

We have no government armed with power capable of contending with human passions unbridled by morality and religion. Avarice, ambition, revenge, or gallantry, would break the strongest cords of our Constitution as a whale goes through a net. Our Constitution was made only for a religious and moral people. It is wholly inadequate for the government of any other.

See, I know not signaling lane-changes is, on the universal scale of things, relatively inconsequential. But honoring such laws is part of the fabric that holds society together. As spirituality and morality unravel, the fabric unravels. The liberal answer is to make more and more and more and more laws.

But in my mind, about 90% of those laws would be unnecessary if folks would just speak up, just apply social pressure — and not call a cop, a lawyer, or a legislator every time something goes awry.

Anecdote 1: Thirty years ago, if someone smoked near me in a restaurant, I could ask to be moved. Or I could complain to the owner, and ask for non-smoking sections. Restaurant owners were already voluntarily creating such things, because part of their clientele wanted it. But then legislators took away their freedom, robbed the market of its natural power to influence, and we have ever-growing piles of smoking laws. (I've never smoked a cigarette in my life, in case you're wondering.)

Anecdote 2: I was talking with a political candidate for a lower political office. She was black, and somehow we got onto quotas. She was for them, I was against them. She told me a story of a time she was denied a job because she was black. Taking her at her word, I said,
"See, I think that's appalling. If I had known you at the time, I would have been glad to confront the store owner. I would have been happy to tell him he wasn't going to be getting any more of my business. In fact, I would cheerfully have led a protest and carried a sign, to put societal and moral pressure on the idiot.

But I don't want the government telling him who he can and can't hire, or why. Because (as we've seen) if that happens, it eventually becomes impossible to hire good employees, and fire wretched ones.

Anecdote 3, from my long list of regrets: I was in a Walmart parking lot many years ago, getting into my car. Just a few feet away, a woman and her tubby little son were also getting into theirs. Well, except he didn't get right in. As she waited, he unzipped his pants, and urinated on the parking lot.

What I did do was stare, aghast, maybe (I don't recall) hoping she'd be shamed by my glare. What I should have done was holler, "Hey! Hortencia! There's a bathroom just 200 feet away inside the store! I'm sure little Guillermo can hold it that long... so take him there."

And so, having said all that, on the 0.0001% that you're one of those drivers who got a headlight-flick from me...

...that's why.

See you in Arizona?

I'm delighted to have been invited as the keynote speaker at the South Arizona Grace Bible Conference next month (October 27-28).

The topic? What else?

“Insights from Proverbs”

I would be absolutely delighted to meet any folks who have profited from any of the blogs. Click on the link above, make a reservation, and let's dig in together!

WOW — "Slow Fade" lyrics

One of the gifts my dear wife got for her birthday was Casting Crowns' newest album, The Altar and the Door. She just sent me the lyrics to one of the songs. I just kept saying, "Wow." Hope the music measures up.

Casting Crowns - Slow Fade lyrics

Be careful little eyes what you see
It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings
Be careful little feet where you go
For it's the little feet behind you that are sure to follow

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade

Be careful little ears what you hear
When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near
Be careful little lips what you say
For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day

The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
Daddies never crumble in a day
Families never crumble in a day

Oh be careful little eyes what see
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
For the Father up above is looking down in love
Oh be careful little eyes what you see

Wow.

Forgive me for bringing this up again...

Forgiveness.

A while back, I took a stand other than the popular (and, to me, incomprehensible) evangelical position here. Upset some folks.

Dear Libbie broached the subject again here and here.

She linked to a good essay on the subject over at NeoFundamentalist. The anonymous writer's position is similar to mine. Read it, and our interaction in the comments.

Taking the opposite position is Valerie (— who, like my wife, does not wish to be called "Val," thank you very much), who alludes to something by the often-incomprehensible-to-me Douglas Wilson.

Both Neofundamentalist and I cite Scripture that directly creates our position.

Neither Valerie nor Wilson cite one Scripture that directly states that a Christian should "forgive" someone who commits and clings to a sin against him. Their position (as I read it) rests instead on concepts and assumptions and extrapolations and is, to me, as I keep stating, impossible to make sense of.

I'm always concerned when I feel that someone is taking a Biblical concept (i.e. grace, forgiveness, family), and just sort of "goes" with it. I really only feel safe if I specifically anchor my development of a concept as closely to Biblical texts as I can. On this specific, for as popular as the notion of "unconditional forgiveness" is, it's remarkable to me that advocates cannot adduce one direct command to extend it.

NOTE: Valerie refines her position some in comments on Libbie's second post. She makes some very good points, including this wonderfully well-phrased thought: "We should be predisposed to forgive sins committed against us. That should be our default position." Amen.

I know it can be difficult to forgive, but for the life of me, I have never, ever understood how genuine Christians — who know they've been saved from the fires of Hell, and forgiven inexcusable atrocities against a holy God — can knowingly and deliberately refuse to forgive a person who asks for forgiveness. Now, on that one, there is some pretty specific Scripture (i.e. Matthew 18:35).

Still more tangentially: Hagrid, a study in How to Chill

Our great fluffy Maine Coon kitty, Hagrid. Not yet full-grown (they take about four years).


We learned to our chagrin (at first) that Maine Coons are not "lap cats" as, for instance, our ferals were. But they do love people, and love to be with us, and where we are.

They love to "help," if anyone's sewing, doing homework, putting on shoes. But pat on your lap and say, "Here kitty," and at least two of the three Maine Coons are likely to watch you with polite interest, and no comprehension.

Click each of the pictures for an enlargement.

There's clearly a reason why Solomon didn't write, "Go to the cat, thou sluggard."

Very tangential

This was brought to my mind by my buddy Phil Johnson's comment on the last post ("I prolly stole that outline from Warren Wiersbe anyway"). I don't like much English-language poetry, but what I do like tends to be... well, tends to be by Rudyard Kipling!

Here's the one Phil's comment brought to mind.

"When 'Omer Smote 'Is Bloomin' Lyre"

INTRODUCTION TO THE BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS IN "THE SEVEN SEAS"

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took -- the same as me!

The market-girls an' fishermen,
The shepherds an' the sailors, too,
They 'eard old songs turn up again,
But kep' it quiet -- same as you!

They knew 'e stole; 'e knew they knowed.
They didn't tell, nor make a fuss,
But winked at 'Omer down the road,
An' 'e winked back -- the same as us!

Now, speaking for myself, I am admittedly a bit obsessive about this. Among many other things.

I am certain that I unconsciously "steal" in good faith. Any preacher will know what I mean. I mean that I read or hear something really good, it gets buried in my subconscious, and then resurfaces years (or, more's the pity, months) later, as my own thought. By that I mean I've completely forgotten that I heard it somewhere, and so it feels like my own thought. And so I can preach or write it as my own thought, plagiarizing in good conscience.

But where I'm obsessive is if I know I'm about to borrow, I must credit. If I'm using another man's outline, or a major thought (not necessarily a minor turn of phrase or observation), it best suits my notion of integrity to say so.

Admittedly, I'm probably the only one to care. When I say it, my longsuffering hearers are probably thinking, "Whatever! I don't even know that name! Thanks, Phillips — there's fifty-three seconds of my life I'll never have back!"

That darned Phil Johnson

I just said, and meant, that pastors need to listen to other pastors. To refuse to do so is (probably, if unintentionally) arrogant and short-sighted, and ultimately to the profit of neither ourselves nor our hearers.

However, there is at least one drawback.

M'man Phil Johnson's sermon on Psalm 17 is a nice and recent example of the drawback.

"What's wrong with the sermon?" you ask.

Nothing. Not one thing. In fact, it's a fine sermon: good exposition, personal, challenging, hearable, memorable. I found it personally helpful and encouraging, and I needed both. (In fact, I've had opportunity to make personal application.)

"So what," you ask, patience waning, "is wrong with the sermon?"

What's wrong with it is it's so good that I doubt I can preach it without seeing Phil's outline! His outline is good, memorable, and arises from the text. Now, unless I forget it, if I ever go to preach that psalm, I'll think of Phil's outline.

I hope by now you see, as you suspected, that the title is a joke. But it can be a real issue. Let me 'splain.

I am not thinking of those pastors who don't know what to preach, and just rip off others' sermons. I have no respect for such. For such, I have four words: give me your pulpit. If you don't have anything to say in spite of having opportunity, I have tons of Bible yet to study and preach from, and little opportunity. So we can solve each other's problems. Give me your pulpit.

However, it can be a problem when a really fine sermon so impresses you that it's hard to see the text afresh, with the perspective God meant you to have.

I was very conscious of this once, when I was preaching a two-parter on Deuteronomy 6:4ff. I loved the passage and had studied and thought about it for years. Nevertheless, I was really having a problem getting a handle on it, as to how to turn it into a sermon.

In my studying, I saw that Spurgeon had preached on it. Now, you all know I love Spurgeon, and have for years. But for that very reason, I didn't dare read his sermon. I was afraid it would so powerfully impress me, that I'd preach Spurgeon's sermon, in effect — I'd see the text through Spurgeon-eyes.

(For whatever it's worth, I think that is the only time I've gone this way. And in case you're interested, you can find and hear the results here and here. When I did read Spurgeon, he went a whole different way, and probably would not have messed me up.)

Now this isn't a tragedy by any means. When I do find an outline compelling, I just credit the source in my sermon, and go on. In a recent sermon, I found another preacher's outline very useful, but I took it in a very different direction. I credited him when I did so.

And so if I do come to preach Psalm 17, do my studying, and Phil's outline still seems the best, I'll use it.

And I'll credit that darned Phil Johnson.

With a smile.

Pastors listening to other pastors

Offhand, two reasons why pastors should listen to other pastors spring to mind.

The first is quickly stated: pastors need feeding, too. It is nourishing to study, to pray, to meditate, to prepare and deliver sermons. But not nourishing in the same way as hearing a brother proclaim the results of his own study and prayerful reflection. "Ministers" need to be ministered to.

The second I might call fear of the Rush Limbaugh effect.

Ten-plus years ago, my schedule was such that I listened to Limbaugh faithfully every day. He helped me keep my sanity during the dark days of The Nameless One's reign of error (1993-2001). This post isn't about Limbaugh per se; my summary statement is that he is a remarkably talented man, and a flawed one; he has about the wisdom one might be expected to amass outside of Christ.

But here's the point:

On rare occasion I now tune into Limbaugh, and even brief visits show that he has not changed nor grown a smidgen in over a decade. I don't refer to his not having "grown" in his viewpoint. I mean that he is using the very exact same schtick, down to the exact same phrases, words, jokes, puns, expressions. He is stale and stuck in his own past.

Why is this? It isn't that he isn't bright. It is, I think, that Rush has painted himself into a corner. He loudly and proudly proclaimed that he never listened to other hosts. He has no guests (with some exceptions). The show is all about him, him, him. He doesn't do interviews for the most part, doesn't put himself into situations he doesn't tightly control.

And so Limbaugh has, in my opinion, stagnated. His pose of arrogance is a bit more than a pose.

Now for a pastor who, unlike Limbaugh (to all the evidence I've seen), accepts warnings such as Proverbs 12:1 ("Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid"), and 25:12 ("Like a gold ring or an ornament of gold is a wise reprover to a listening ear"), and 18:1 ("Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment"), and 18:2 ("A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion"), and 18:17 ("The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him") — for such a pastor, I say, to isolate himself, and listen only to himself, and hear no living voice... well, to me it is folly.

A pastor should always be eager to grow and to hone the gifts God has given him (1 Timothy 4:15; 2 Timoth 1:6). One way is to seek out the ministry of other pastors, and not only the dead ones.

Thank God, then, that the Internet makes it so easy to listen to some of the godly greats of our day.

There is a down-side though. I plan to talk about it a bit in a subsequent post, when I talk about that darned Phil Johnson.

Now, that's what I'm talking about

I like the roll of paper towels. Dude's prepared.

Free books!

To the lucky blessed winner! Free book drawing thingie from Challies... there is no bad!

(Well, the one on Zechariah probably makes mish-mash out of the prophecies... and the ones on Galatians and Hebrews probably try to transmogrify the church into some kind of "Israel".... Or maybe not! If you win the books, you can tell us!)

Just plain funny

...though you may have to be a certain age to "get" it.



(I loved the old Bob Newhart show)

A new definition of "mixed emotions"

Being "effectually called" to jury duty.

Ungh.

UPDATE: I was thanked and dismissed. Unmixed emotions about that one. It would have been nassty. The prosecutor didn't think I was her guy.

Speaking of movies and chick flicks...

...name some good chick flicks, and tell me why.

My wife is about to go off on her annual two-woman retreat with a Christian friend, and I draw on my vast knowledge of movies (cough, cough) to pick some for them.

So it just occurred to me I ought to draw on my vast audience of sisters to get some recommendations.

So? Tell me.

UPDATE: I'm really appreciating the flood of input. But please do remember also to tell me

WHY?

Facing the Giants—comments

Spoiler-free part. This movie has been much-recommended, so I violated my usual ban on sports-themed movies and showed it on Burger Night.

I have a tough audience, in that it ranges in age from 7 (just turned 8) to 51, and includes male and female. My 11 year old son isn't usually happy unless there are explosions and fights; my now-8-year-old is tired of fights and explosions, but needs something pretty fast-moving and active to grip him.

My daughter and wife are very understanding, but their preferences of course differ from the boys. Thank God, there is a lot of overlapping, but often I know a movie will more please one element than the other. I try to go back and forth even-handedly in that way.

In fact, just the beginning of the movie (which is football-themed) got some exclamations, to the effect that this isn't my usual fare.

But we all enjoyed it a lot. The acting is fine, generally much better than a community play, but not quite Academy Award level. The photography is also fine, the music complements the story well.

I liked the characters and dialogue a lot. People aren't plaster saints nor Chick tract villains, and there are a lot of very nice and nicely-done touches of humor all throughout. (My favorite would defy retelling, but involves a scene where a character moans over his test-score.)

The story takes place at a Christian high school, and the themes are openly Christian. I think a Christ-haunted "non" would find it a bit preachy, but depending on the size of his shoulder-chip, perhaps not overwhelmingly so. It tells a very nice story of people you can care about dealing with believable knots and crises, and the sum is uplifting and instructive.

I don't really like watching football, but I enjoyed this a lot, and recommend it.

Now some spoilery comments. Be warned. Don't read further if you haven't seen the movie.

Spoilery comments in 3...



...2...



...1..




It does trouble me that everything turns out so perfectly.

The movie sets up the hero-coach's dilemmas very well and involvingly. The viewer cares for him and his wife, and moans with the mounting burdens on his back.

But then by the film's end, every one of them has been solved — except that he's losing his hair. Maybe he'll get that too, in a sequel. Or maybe it'll get better if he stops rubbing the top of his head.

But he gets a new truck for free, finds the dead rat, overcomes his little-swimmer shortage, wins the championship, has the one kid he witnesses to convert to Christ and reconcile fully to his dad, keeps his job, gets a raise, and becomes President of the United States.

Okay, I made that last one up.

Now the movie does deal with the "What if God doesn't do what we want Him to do?" issue, to an extent. That is, the coach turns the team to commit themselves to praising God, win or lose. And they lose one, and return to and practice this commitment. And the coach challenges his wife as to whether she will still love God even if she never has a baby; and, after a crushing disappointment, she commits herself to that love.

But!

But then after the former, it turns out they really did win the game they thought they'd lost; and, after the latter, the wife learns she really is pregnant. (In fact, they have two babies!) So hey, neat — if God takes away a toy, and we say "That's okay," He'll give it back. Cool!

Of course the movie says no such thing... but I don't think there is even one disappointment that isn't turned around like that. A disrespectful kid is converted and reconciled to his dad; the kid who flunked a test even gets 100 on his next!

But Christian living, in this life, simply is not like that, much of the time. Demas forsakes, and maybe never comes back (2 Timothy 4:10); we may suffer precisely for doing good (1 Peter 2:20); people even die for telling others about Jesus (Acts 7:54-60). Infertile couples often stay infertile, kids raised in the love of Christ can go horribly astray, Christian teams lose games, old cars get worse and worse and nobody gives us brand-new trucks.

So this will give me an opportunity to talk with my boys about these truths, and that's good. But:

1. Will my words make as much of an impression as a movie did?
2. What impression of the Gospel would an unbeliever take away from the movie?

I still recommend it, simply with these provisos. As to the latter, the movie makes much of Christ's Lordship, the importance of the Bible, our need for forgiveness of sins and commitment to Christ, and the like. And it does what Hollywood is almost completely incapable of doing (or unwilling to do): it shows real, live, decent, three-dimensional practicing Christians in the course of daily lives and crises.

And that's all good.