Tag: Worship

Jesus Isn’t a Meal, He’s a Feast (John 6:22–58)

John chapter six isn’t about the Lord’s Supper, but it and the Supper are about the same truths. In both, Jesus uses a metaphor to point us to Himself, and one thing He tells us is that He is a meal, not a feast.

These Galileans failed to realize they were coming to the King of kings, not Burger King. You cannot have this bread your way. When Jesus tells them there is a heavenly Bread that endures for eternal life, they ask for it (John 6:34). They want eternal life, but they want only a meal, not a feast.  They want Jesus as they want Him (cf. John 6:14–15).

Jesus’ doesn’t make himself palatable to sinful tastes. He pushes the metaphor to the extreme to their disgust. Jesus keeps saying “Mana. Mana. Mana.” Like their forefathers they grumble at the heavenly Bread the Father has provided, proving themselves to be another generation doomed to perish in the wilderness due to unbelief (cf. Hebrews 3, 1 Corinthians 10:1–11).

Jesus then has the audacity to tell them that He isn’t an acquired taste, but a given taste (John 6:37, 44–45, 65). You can’t by effort come to taste and see that Jesus is good. If you savor the Savior it is because your mouth has been washed by the waters of regeneration to give an appetite called faith. Jesus says that eating is coming and drinking is believing. Jesus is the eternally satisfying Bread of life to His people because they never stop eating, meaning, they never stop believing.

Man knows this much, he is hungry and thirsty. The problem isn’t a lack of appetite, but what we try to satiate that appetite with (John 6:27–29). There are many variations of the fountain of youth/life legends. Imagine that such a fountain exists in a narrow cave, but there’s a catch. There’s always a catch huh? Once you drink of the fountain you have eternal life, but you cannot leave the cave. Once you do, you die immediately. Man wants eternal life, but he wants to leave the cave. He wants Jesus as a meal, not a feast. He wants to drink the fountain only to enjoy other drinks. But what if the only thing worth devoting an eternity of existence to was knowing and enjoying the fountain? This is one of the many things we declare and anticipate in the Supper, that day when the bride will forever feast with her Beloved, and her every desire is fully satisfied in Him.

Who Prepares the Lord’s Supper? (Luke 22:1-13)

Who prepared the Last Supper? Jesus clearly commands His disciples to make preparations (Luke 22:8, 13), but the disciples prepare for the feast the way students at a cooking school prepare a meal. When the student shows up, preparations have already been made. The ingredients, utensils, appliances, and recipe are all there before them. Jesus is the master chef. From Jesus’ instructions, it’s clear, He’s doing the cooking.

Jesus is using an ancient recipe, one He gave to His people ages ago in the Passover. The disciples were preparing a Passover meal, but Jesus was preparing the Passover meal. Every Passover up to this point was only a dress rehearsal with a stand-in cast. Fulfillment has come. Jesus is the host and fare of the true Passover. The Jews had the recipe, but they could never procure the perfect ingredients; only Jesus had those, His body and His blood given for us. There will be no recipe failure.

Big feasts take a long time to prepare. The table of salvation that Jesus is spreading is the greatest of feasts and has been long in the making. The best of bread took a long time to rise; the finest of wines was long in aging to perfection. But now, the time to feast is come, the table is being spread.

The Lord’s Supper is the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:20). He presides over the table. The Lord’s Supper is a picture of the gospel, and it is a picture He still gives to us just as He did to them. The bread and wine do not become His body or blood, but the enfleshed Jesus, whose body was broken, and whose blood was poured out, is by the Spirit present with His church in the Supper speaking the gospel to us just as He did to His disciples on that night.

We don’t prepare this table the way Jesus does. This Supper is something we are commanded to do, but the doing we do is to come to His table.

A Maturing Praise Palate (Psalm 5)

I’ve a fear that we choke when we should swallow, and swallow when we should spew.

I hope every Christian has had the experience of willfully abstaining from singing some lines of a particular hymn or chorus for conviction’s sake. Not because I want poor songs to be sung, but because they too commonly are. I appreciate many of the lyrics of Paul Baloche’s “Above All.” It begins so well.

Above all powers above all kings
Above all nature and all created things
Above all wisdom and all the ways of man
You were here before the world began

Above all kingdoms above all thrones
Above all wonders the world has ever known
Above all wealth and treasures of the earth
There’s no way to measure
What You’re worth

Christ, supreme and lifted above all. Almost.

Crucified laid behind the stone
You lived to die rejected and alone
Like a rose trampled on the ground
You took the fall and thought of me
Above all

Jesus above all, and then, above Him, me. Huh? With no intention to shame Paul or question his intentions, this is worse than simple self-idolatry. It’s ascribing idolatry to Jesus. Jesus makes it very clear, that though He was thinking of His people as He went to the cross, the thing He thought of above all was His Father. I tremble at the thought of singing and celebrating that Jesus thought of me above His Father. Sadly, many modern songs of worship are full of this kind of sappiness. How many churches are full of zealous worship, of self, inviting God to esteem us above all?  In the psalms, God invites us to worship Him, the modern writer has returned the favor, inviting God to worship us.

I wonder, if we began singing the psalms, would we choke on them? “We can’t sing that!” The psalmists had a mature palate. They hungered for God, all of Him, above all. There wasn’t anything of God they found embarrassing or disgusting. They loved the full course of His glory. They sang, praising not only His mercy, but his justice; not only His grace, but His wrath. They tasted God’s every attribute, saw them as being in perfect harmony, and swallowed exclaiming, “Good!” The psalms aren’t a steak with which you can trim away any undesirable fat. When God makes the plate, we must clean it. In the psalms, God invites us to feast on Him,  all of Him. In the psalms God taught His people to sing; in them, He teaches us still. Lord, grant us the grace to swallow, and beyond that, to savor.

Prosperity Theology is Prosperity Worship (Psalm 4)

“Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the LORD.” —Psalm 4:5

David calls for his enemies, those who are trying to shame his honor (Psalm 4:2), to offer right sacrifices. I believe the implications is that they were offering sacrifices—to YHWH! But, they were not right. Why? Their sacrifices made in the temple and according to the law, were expressions of rebellion and idolatry.

I also take the “many” referred to in v. 6 to be these same enemies. David goes on to contrast himself with them in v. 7.

“There are many who say, ‘Who will show us some good? Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!’ You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.

Why were these men—Jews, not Gentiles—unhappy with David, God’s anointed? They wanted “good,” they wanted it as it came from YHWH invoking the Aaronic blessing (Numbers 6:22-27). They were prosperity theologians. They wanted the good, they would even render up service to God in seeking it, but they despised God’s king. They wanted God’s goods, but not His “son” (Psalm 2:7). David, in contrast, delights in God Himself. David is opposed, yet finds superior joy in God Himself. His enemies lack some good, and are disgusted with God’s king. Who is worshipping God?

These men treated sacrifices like quarters and God as a vending machine to dispense the goods they want. Likewise, much worship, in Christian congregations, is a rebellious act of treason against King Jesus (cf. Isaiah 1:12–20). You cannot by much sacrifice wield God to bless your unrighteous rebellion.

Despising the Shame of the Psalms for the Joy of Greater Glory (Psalm 3)

I’m afraid many confess to love the psalms as many confess to love Jesus; it’s a sentimental love based on imagination. Like a piece of childhood nostalgia revisited, upon inspection, many find the psalms aren’t as pure and good as their flannel graph memories. The psalms might be the most warmly affirmed yet least known portion of Scripture. We speak of them like we would a great ancestor, but are later shamed to learn that he held slaves. What are we to do with language like this?

“Arise, O Lord! Save me, O my God! For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked (Psalm 3:7).”

“O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed, blessed shall he be who repays you with what you have done to us! Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock (Psalm 137:8–9)!”

I think perhaps the truth that helps us to understand such difficult passages, and to rightly understand less difficult ones is this: often, though not exclusively, as Augustine said, Jesus is the great singer of the psalms. We can sing the psalms, but our covers never match Jesus’ original. “Arn’t these psalms for congregational worship?” Yes. “Can’t we sing them?” Yes. But, I believe you’ll find it is when the voice of the psalm is taken out of your mouth and put into the mouth of Christ that it is most sweet and meaningful. The second psalm teaches us this. That psalm not only speaks of Jesus, in it Jesus speaks, and thus we should approach many psalms of David. As psalms of God’s king over God’s people.

On problem we have is out distance from monarchy. Consider Britain’s anthem, “God Save the King.”

God save our gracious King!
Long live our noble King!
God save the King!
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King.

Thy choicest gifts in store,
On him be pleased to pour,
Long may he reign. / May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause,
To sing with heart and voice,
God save the King.

We’d do better to sing the psalms like a Brit. Our individualism too often infects the psalms as we want to make them like our modern worship choruses, centered around ourselves and our emotions. But the psalms, like the truly great hymns of the faith, are centered around Christ. If we’d approach this psalm more like a patriotic anthem, rather than a personal lament, we’d hit closer to the mark.

One might think I’m trying to rob them of the psalms, but this doesn’t mean we sing the psalms less, but more. The King’s personal lament, that we are assured was heard by God, means that we sing His lament as a song of praise. Jesus’ sorrow means our joy.

David knew that his personal welfare and the blessedness of the people of God were linked together because of God’s covenant (Psalm 3:8). David’s zeal for his enemies’ destruction wasn’t personal vengeance, but holy worshipful zeal. Opposition to David was opposition to God (Psalm 2:2–3), and to the good of God’s people.

Now consider how this is fulfilled in the King. Jesus was surrounded by enemies, enemies who were close to him. Judas betrays with a kiss. His fellow countrymen who had welcomed him into the city shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” soon cry “Crucify him!” wishing him to be driven from the city. Like David, Jesus departs His city, the place of His rightful rule. He is driven outside to be shamed and mocked as forsaken by God. But unlike David, who was only being chastened in love, Jesus is forsaken in wrath. Like David, Jesus is suffering for sin, but unlike David, Jesus isn’t suffering for His sins, but the sins of His people. But God lifted up the head that bowed saying “It is finished.” and bestowed on Him the name above all names. In Christ our enemies’ teeth are shattered. The serpent has been de-fanged by the crushing weight of his crucified heel, and we boast with Paul “O death where is your sting?”

How do we sing this psalm, and many others? In Jesus’ name and for Jesus name. Maybe if our reading of the psalms was Christocentric then our worship would be, or, maybe if more contemporary worship music was Christocentric, we’d be better readers of the psalms.

The Dogmatician: God Is Not Indifferent to Anything

Religious indifferentism assumes that it is immaterial to God how he is served. It deprives him of the right to determine the manner of his service; in any case it postulates that God has not prescribed the manner of his service. …Factually and objectively, however, nothing is indifferent, neither in nature, nor in the state, nor in science and art. All things, even the most humble, have their specific place and meaning in the context of the whole. Human beings are indifferent only to what they do not, or do not sufficiently, know: they automatically assess and appreciate what they do know. God, who knows all things, is not indifferent to anything. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

Get Drunk and Love (Matthew 22:34-40)

When it comes to gods, deep down everyone is a monotheist. There can be only one. Either God is God, or the individual. All of life is love. Love is constantly being expressed. Man cannot not love. Every bit of existence we have is spent loving, worshipping, something. Yet, fallen men cannot love. In loving themselves, they hate love (John 3:19-20). Men hate light because they love darkness, which is another way of saying that they hate love.

By God’s common grace, and because man is made in God’s image, there is a muted echo of love that the unbeliever may hear and that may resound off and through the unbeliever, but it is always second-hand, always an echo and never the original tune. It is always muted, never amplified. It is always a first-grade crush on your married teacher, never marriage consummated and well aged like a vintage wine. It is like saying that you have tasted wine when a drop, a single drop, fell into your full glass of water. The world’s concept of love is diluted. You could never get intoxicated on it.

Jesus extends the cup of the new covenant, the intoxicating, behavior altering wine of His blood, that we might know love and love. If fallen man loves to hate love, how can he ever love love? Let me give you two answers, which are two ways of saying the same thing: covenant and a heart transplant. Listen carefully to the command, “love the Lord your God.” The context for this command is Deuteronomy, redemption, salvation. God, not because of anything Israel has done, calls a people unto Himself. He enters into covenant with them. And His covenant love gives His people a new heart (Deuteronomy 30:6; Jeremiah 31:31, 33; Ezekiel 36:26-27). A heart that loves Him, that loves His Son, that loves His law, that loves others, that loves His creation—that loves, really loves.

Taxing Nails (Matthew 22:15-22)

Thinking that this text is about taxes is like thinking that the point of building a house is driving nails. The government may spend taxes that way (“Hey we bought an outrageous surplus of nails here… hmmm… what to do? Houses!”), but the Holy Spirit does not inspire texts that way. We can learn about taxes from this text. In fact, everything that the New Testament teaches us about relating to government (i.e. Romans 13:1-7) is contained within Jesus’ response, but taxes are not the point. Taxes are the road, not the destination. What is the aim? What was the Pharisees’ aim? They wanted to entangle Jesus in His words. They do want to drive nails—in Jesus’ coffin. They want to discredit Jesus. Their questions are the hammers.

The Holy Spirit, in contrast, wants to glorify Jesus. He has the easy task. He just has to open blind eyes; “Look, there He is!” When the Pharisees test Jesus, it is like a distance jumper saying he will test the vastness of the Grand Canyon by his jumping skills. You have to foolishly think you are some kind of greatness to test Jesus. When man tests Jesus, man always fails. Jesus’ answer is brilliant and wonderful. They ask about giving taxes, He tells them to render. Don’t just give, give back to Ceasar what is his. Pause. Read slowly. Give Ceasar what is his. Do not render Caesar what is not his. The coin used for the poll tax had an image of Tiberius with the inscription, “Tiberius Ceasar, Son of the Divine Augustus.” Divinity is not Caesar’s. He is not due worship. Pay Caesar taxes, not homage.

The Pharisees fail, and yet, Jesus is going to the cross. Nails will be driven into His hands and feet, but He is using them, the rulers of this world, as His hammers. Foolish hammer. He thinks he wields himself. They kill, God raises, Jesus rules. Every time—they look stupid and Jesus looks glorious. We can give Ceasar taxes, because we know the risen King of kings who is Lord over them all. In giving Ceasar his due as an act of obedience to God, we give to God his due as the Sovereign Lord of all.

Jesus does not tax His subjects. He was taxed for them, by God, bearing the wrath they deserve. He payed our debt and rendered our due. True, he demands we die, but so that we might live. We must repent, but in repentance we turn from poison to elixir. We turn from darkness to light. We turn from death to life. Jesus does not tax; His yoke is easy and His burden is light. In Jesus we have been given a ruler none of us deserve; a King who serves, a Ruler who heals, a Conqueror who delivers, a Lord who gives. This frees you to give. Even taxes. Jesus is so great, you can pay taxes to pagan kings as an act of worshipping Him. Render Him His due.

The Pilgrim: Sunday is A Market Day

Make the Lord’s day the market for thy soul; let the whole day be spent in prayer, repetitions, or meditations; lay aside the affairs of the other part of the week; let thy sermon thou hast heard be converted into prayer. Shall God allow thee six days, and wilt thou not afford him one? -John Bunyan, Mr. John Bunyan’s Dying Sayings