What Can Miserable Christians Sing?

“Having experienced — and generally appreciated — worship across the whole evangelical spectrum, from Charismatic to Reformed — I am myself less concerned here with the form of worship than I am with its content. Thus, I would like to make just one observation: the psalms, the Bible’s own hymnbook, have almost entirely dropped from view in the contemporary Western evangelical scene. I am not certain about why this should be, but I have an instinctive feel that it has more than a little to do with the fact that a high proportion of the psalter is taken up with lamentation, with feeling sad, unhappy, tormented, and broken.

In modern Western culture, these are simply not emotions which have much credibility: sure, people still feel these things, but to admit that they are a normal part of one’s everyday life is tantamount to admitting that one has failed in today’s health, wealth, and happiness society. And, of course, if one does admit to them, one must neither accept them nor take any personal responsibility for them: one must blame one’s parents, sue one’s employer, pop a pill, or check into a clinic in order to have such dysfunctional emotions soothed and one’s self-image restored.

Now, one would not expect the world to have much time for the weakness of the psalmists’ cries. It is very disturbing, however, when these cries of lamentation disappear from the language and worship of the church. Perhaps the Western church feels no need to lament — but then it is sadly deluded about how healthy it really is in terms of numbers, influence and spiritual maturity. Perhaps — and this is more likely — it has drunk so deeply at the well of modern Western materialism that it simply does not know what to do with such cries and regards them as little short of embarrassing. Yet the human condition is a poor one — and Christians who are aware of the deceitfulness of the human heart and are looking for a better country should know this.

A diet of unremittingly jolly choruses and hymns inevitably creates an unrealistic horizon of expectation which sees the normative Christian life as one long triumphalist street party — a theologically incorrect and a pastorally disastrous scenario in a world of broken individuals. Has an unconscious belief that Christianity is — or at least should be — all about health, wealth, and happiness silently corrupted the content of our worship? Few Christians in areas where the church has been strongest over recent decades — China, Africa, Eastern Europe – would regard uninterrupted emotional highs as normal Christian experience.

Indeed, the biblical portraits of believers give no room to such a notion. Look at Abraham, Joseph, David, Jeremiah, and the detailed account of the psalmists’ experiences. Much agony, much lamentation, occasional despair — and joy, when it manifests itself — is very different from the frothy triumphalism that has infected so much of our modern Western Christianity. In the psalms, God has given the church a language which allows it to express even the deepest agonies of the human soul in the context of worship. Does our contemporary language of worship reflect the horizon of expectation regarding the believer’s experience which the psalter proposes as normative? If not, why not? Is it because the comfortable values of Western middle-class consumerism have silently infiltrated the church and made us consider such cries irrelevant, embarrassing, and signs of abject failure?

I did once suggest at a church meeting that the psalms should take a higher priority in evangelical worship than they generally do — and was told in no uncertain terms by one indignant person that such a view betrayed a heart that had no interest in evangelism. On the contrary, I believe it is the exclusion of the experiences and expectations of the psalmists from our worship — and thus from our horizons of expectation — which has in a large part crippled the evangelistic efforts of the church in the West and turned us all into spiritual pixies.

By excluding the cries of loneliness, dispossession, and desolation from its worship, the church has effectively silenced and excluded the voices of those who are themselves lonely, dispossessed, and desolate, both inside and outside the church. By so doing, it has implicitly endorsed the banal aspirations of consumerism, generated an insipid, trivial and unrealistically triumphalist Christianity, and confirmed its impeccable credentials as a club for the complacent. In the last year, I have asked three very different evangelical audiences what miserable Christians can sing in church. On each occasion my question has elicited uproarious laughter, as if the idea of a broken-hearted, lonely, or despairing Christian was so absurd as to be comical — and yet I posed the question in all seriousness. Is it any wonder that British evangelicalism, from the Reformed to the Charismatic, is almost entirely a comfortable, middle-class phenomenon?”

–Carl R. Trueman, from “What Can Miserable Christians Sing?” in The Wages of Spin: Critical Writings on Historical and Contemporary Evangelicalism (Christian Focus: 2004) pp. 158-160.

The Earth is Telling of Hope's Destruction

"But as a mountain falls and crumbles away, and as a rock is moved from its place; as water wears away stones, and as torrents wash away the soil of the earth; so You destroy the hope of man."  (Job 14:18-19)

God the Wise: Meditations on Job's Hope

Having now finished reading the book of Job, and then re-reading several of the ending chapters, I offer a few observations that I hope will help in getting to the bottom of the book's message(s).

1. Currently standing at the forefront of my mind is the notion that all of the torture from God, via Satan, that Job interpreted as God's hostility, was actually evidence of God's love. This is not expressly stated within the book, so I'm a bit slow to begin with it. However, I have also been studying Hebrews 12. As I look at the two texts side by side, this is what I see. In other words, the reasons Christians use to justify our unbelief in God's love as He has declared and demonstrated it are the very things that prove it. This is easily illustrated by the human parent-child relationship in which a loving parent goes to great lengths to protect his child from ruinous thought and behavior and deliver her unto blessing. God has made this lesson necessarily plain in the world because it is so abominably hard on us to learn abstractly.

2. God's hard dealings with Job began in a conversation between God and Satan. I do not pretend to understand the connection here, nor have I given it much time. But it is certainly worth mentioning and should be considered in the light of the many New Testament texts that connect humans and their activity with the mighty unseen creatures before whom we live. (i.e. Lk 22:31; Ro 8:38; 1 Co 5:5, 11:10; 2 Co 12:7; 1 Ti 5:21; He 1:6)

3. The Heavenly Father, like His Son, does not always give a humanly sensible answer to the question He is asked. When God finally spoke to Job (Job 38-42), He did not answer Job's particular questions; and didn't even mention Job's suffering. He talked a lot about Himself. God, being wise, speaks the words needed, not requested.

4. God's timing is His own. Job has poured out his heart to God over and over and over again with no reply. We read this for 37 chapters. Then, without explanation, we read, "Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind. . ." (38:1). I don't know.

5. I have heard folks try to pinpoint Job's sin. In a way it's quite incredible that one might read Job's story and then insist on finding the wrong for which Job was punished. That he was being punished at all seems to run counter to the book's message. And yet Job "repents" (42:6); but of what in particular? Some use 16:12 and 42:10 to argue that Job was selfish, and therefore punished. But this appears to me far from the truth. And God never indicts Job for such a crime. The wrong activity Job will eventually confess (42:3) is speaking of God and God's ways without adequate understanding. I tend to think this was also the sin of those of Isaiah's day (Is 6:5), but not in exactly the same way. But this sin occurred during his weakness while suffering. It was not the reason for the suffering. The reason for the suffering is not altogether clear to me. But it occurs to me that God does bring hardship upon His people for training purposes, not only in response to unrepentant sinning (i.e. 2 Co 1). Our pain is planned, not arbitrary. And it's aim is maturity and perseverance and holiness and greater usefulness (2 Co 1; 2 Ti 2; He 12; Ja 1)

6. If you want the New Testament commentary on the point of Job's story, there is one verse on the subject, James 5:11. It reads, "We count those blessed who endured. You have heard of the endurance of Job and have seen the outcome of the Lord's dealings, that the Lord is full of compassion and is merciful." I'm wondering, concerning those of you who have read Job, is this what you took away, that God "is full of compassion and is merciful." I confess that was not my first impression. We should consider this further in a future post.

7. Job's friends were wrong about him, and worse, about God (42:7-8). It's good to see Job vindicated. Such justice on earth is not altogether common to God's people. It is easy for us to look at a life and/or a situation and think that had the hurting person done this or that or the other, that he or she would not be in such hardship. We don't know that. We don't know very much at all, about each other or about God. And that's my final word here. Job knew God. Job was a righteous man (1:1,8). And at the end of his ordeal his confession is that he doesn't understand God's ways terribly well. This should give us pause in evaluating our own hardships, and before making judgments, or even speculations, when we consider others who suffer. It would be better to seek to comfort and relieve them first, and save our advice for much later, or for never. Job's friends appear to do him the most good when they are simply sitting with him, and mourning with him, in silence (2:11-13; Cf 2 Co 1 & Ro 12:15).

God the Free: Meditations on Job's Hope

"Oh, that I had one to hear me. . .

Oh, that the Almighty would answer me. . .

The words of Job are ended."

Job 31:35 & 40

It seems that Job was accustomed to God's fellowship and leading. But now, during his unspeakable suffering, God is silent, and absent. Job feels abandoned. Who wouldn't? And while he suffers the wicked prosper (See chs 21 & 24, for examples). Job is not suffering along with the wicked, as one might in a famine. He is hurting while they are celebrating. They continue to gain while he continues to lose. This reality overwhelms his powers of reason and his sense of justice. His children - dead. His property - destroyed. His health - devastated. His friends - useless. His reputation - ruined. His income - lost. His wife - perplexed. His God - missing. This is not hell on earth. But it may be as close as anyone has ever come to it.

Job's longing: "Oh, that I were as in months past, as in the days when God watched over me; when His lamp shone upon my head, and when by His light I walked through darkness; Just as I was in the days of my prime, when the friendly counsel of God was over my tent; when the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were around me" (29:1-5).

Job's reality: "God has afflicted me. . .Terrors are turned upon me and my prosperity has passed like a cloud. And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; The days of affliction take hold of me. My bones are pierced in me at night, and my gnawing pains take no rest. . .God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. I cry out to You, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You only look at me. You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You oppose me. . .You spoil my success" (30:11, 15-22).

Soon after this last expression of desperation, Job offers his final effort to move God to mercy. And so, the words of Job are ended.

All of this together reminds me of a scene from the life of John the Baptist, for whom my blog is named. He is imprisoned for truthful prophesying. And while there he sends someone to ask Jesus if He really is the expected Messiah. Perhaps John's suffering for the sake of righteousness has gotten him thinking that if Jesus were the Messiah, then His people wouldn't be unjustly punished, and suffering would cease; Since Jesus is here, vindication of His people is also here. So why am I in prison for my faithfulness while wicked Herod lives it up in luxury (See Mt 14)? The last part of Jesus' answer to John's inquiry is relevant here. After affirming His messiahship Jesus adds, "And blessed is he who does not take offense at Me" (Mt 11:6).

There is similar instruction given to Peter after he learns of his impending death at the hands of evil men (Jn 21:19). The text says that, "Peter, turning around, saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following who also had leaned on His breast at the supper, and said, 'Lord, who is the one who betrays you?' Peter, seeing him, said to Jesus, 'But Lord, what about this man?'" In other words, Peter has just heard some terribly disturbing news confirming his suffering to come. And now he asks Jesus to speak about how John's future is laid out. Jesus answers Peter this way: "If I will that he remain till I come, what is that to you? You follow Me." Probably not what Peter wanted to hear, because misery does not only love company, but sometimes misery needs it.

God is free absolutely. He is free when Job suffers while the wicked prosper. He is free when John the Baptist is imprisoned and then beheaded while evil Herod celebrates. He is free when the Apostle Peter is crucified while the Apostle John dies of old age. And He is free when you and I cannot make any sense of our situations or see any good in them. And that divine freedom will be a horror to us, even an offense to us, if we do not believe that the free God is also the good, wise, and just One. That's the fight. That's the call of the Scriptures and the meaning of saving faith -- indestructible confidence in the free God. May God grant what He demands. That's our only hope.

So what to do? Pray, pray, pray, and seek to be transformed by the Scriptures into right thinking and confident lovers of the free God. It is the grace of this God and the intercession of His Son that sustains faith through suffering (Lk 22:31-32; 2 Co 1:1-11 & 12:1-10). This God runs the world, His way. If that way offends me then I am not blessed, says Jesus to John and to us. And if I can't handle well  my hardships in the light of the ease in which others often live, then I can't follow Jesus, says He to Peter and to us.

"Free and merciful Father, grant us an unoffended faith and the blessing that comes with it; Grant the faith that follows Jesus hopefully and gladly in a world littered with injustice, hardship and mystery. In His name, and for His sake and glory we ask. Amen."

God the Just: Meditations on Job's Hope

"Now if it is not so, who will prove me a liar, and make my speech worth nothing?"

Job 24:25

Yesterday morning, after making an in-home speech, I asked the above question to those in the room (my wife and daughter). I confess with Job that the copious amounts of injustice I see eat away at my bones, and my sanity. Please don't hear me saying that I'm innocent. Please don't hear Job saying that he is innocent either (See ch 9, & 13:23). Job's battle never concerns his innocence in a general sense, but in the sense that his "friends" press upon him -- that he has by particular acts of unrighteousness earned the particular sufferings doled out to him. Their doctrine of suffering is horribly flawed in its content and its oversimplification. It is not true that the good are rewarded and the evil are punished, as by some automated mechanism. And it is also not true that reward and punishment are wholly meted out in this life. The reality is that there is a Person behind all of the rewards and punishments. And His purposes are regularly mysterious and beyond our finding out. They are also carried out in eternity, not just this present time. This is not a simple thing.

In chapter 24 Job speaks of the mystery mentioned above. His desire is that "wickedness should be broken like a tree" (v20). But of course it isn't. Not only do the wicked prosper in a way that seems to indicate that "God does not charge them with wrong" (v12), but the righteous suffer at the hands of these same evil people. The chapter contains a list of sins Job sees from those who "rebel against the light" (v13) along with Job's desired punishments for them (v18-21). Job's complaint here has not changed. He still believes that when he "cries out concerning wrong, he is not heard", and that "there is no justice" (See 19:7). And he asks that God would "look away from him that he may rest" (14:6). Amen.

I am under the impression, correct or not, that most of the Christians I know have never had deep feelings like this. The explanation for this is a lack of suffering. A lack of suffering is a good thing if God has determined that one not suffer though they practice righteousness. But a lack of suffering for "playing it safe" is a terrible and sinful thing. The Apostle Paul has told us that all those who want to live a godly life will suffer persecution [usually from within the church (2 Ti 3:12)]; and that his Christian suffering was so severe and prolonged that he came to believe that death was the only way out (2 Co 1:8-10). Job came to believe this too (10:18-19, for example).  Jesus has said to us that following Him will bring loss (Mt 5:11-12), even great loss (Mt 10:24-39; Jn 16:1-2).

God says that suffering and trial make us better, useful, mature, and godly (See Ja 1; 1 Pe ; 2 Co 1, etc). And some of these trials we bring upon ourselves by our faithful obedience (See 2 Co 8; Mt 5, etc). In other words, there are demanding but beneficial consequences that come with the Christ-life. But many who profess Jesus as Lord do not feel the weight of these consequences because they live like pagans, striving for what they understand to be the most secure path, risking neither dollar nor reputation nor relationship. These are the cruisers, and the users. Apparently, to these, God exists for them. And this belief is at the heart of what's wrong with the church in America. It's not the adulterer, the drunkard, or any of the other more glamorous sinners that plague our congregations. It's the American Christian coward, who would rather do anything than suffer, who never does a truly hard thing, who does nothing that remotely resembles sacrifice, and who couldn't even begin to define biblical faith. These are those who say that evangelism and giving, for example, are "not their gifts", and imagine heaven as only an extension of their present condition. No wonder the Apostle Paul spends two chapters commending the Macedonian Christians for their eagerness to sacrifice (2 Co 8-9). It's just so rare, and so beautiful.

As I wasted time yesterday ranting to my wife and daughter on the horrors of such cowardice, I named names that my wife would know. And I made a judgment, though not an authoritative or ultimate one. I said that I sincerely love these people, but that I have trouble respecting them. They cruise (in my estimation). They give the minimum, and sit on piles of money they don't need while legitimate needs go unmet. They take the easy gigs only, while God demands that His people "go to Him, outside the camp, bearing His reproach" (He 13:13). And they will, in this life, take the better vacations, drive the better vehicles, and have lots of friends; but at what cost? Have they (or I) "strived for the faith of the gospel and suffered for Jesus' sake" (Php 1)? Have we known God (Php 3)? Or have we gained the world, but lost our souls (Mt 16:26)? I don't know. I am not their judge, or mine (1 Co 4). But this I know, that "God draws the mighty away with His power; He rises up, but no man is sure of life. He gives them security, and they rely on it; Yet His eyes are on their ways." (Job 24:22-23).

May God make us faithful.

God the Lover: Meditations on Job's Hope

"But He is unique, and who can make Him change?

And whatever His soul desires, that He does.

For He performs what is appointed for me,

And many such things are with Him.

Therefore I am terrified at His presence;

When I consider this, I am afraid of Him.

For God made my heart weak, 

And the Almighty terrifies me;

Because I was not cut off from the presence of darkness,

And He did not hide deep darkness from my face."

Job 23:13-17

As suggested in my last post, God means to make us weak. And so it goes with Job. God's love is a terrifying one; because apparently He will do anything to make us holy. The anything includes "deep darkness" and debilitating forms of suffering. God not only takes good from Job, He gives him horror in its place, so that Job's suffering is not only the pain of loss. In addition, Job learns that he is alone in his terror. He has no comforter or sound counselor. His friends scold him, and his wife suggests suicide. I imagine she does so out of pity and compassion. And I also imagine Job seriously considered the option. He spends many words cursing the day of his birth and wishing, even praying, for his death. I speculate that if God took away even one of my children, that grief combined with the devil's power to tempt, would push me to that place. Job lost all of his children. He also lost his property, his income, and his health. He never, however, lost his faith (13:15-16, 19:25-27).

If nothing else, the book of Job is a testimony to the power of Christ to keep all that are given to Him (Jn 6:39). The fact that Job did not take his wife's advice to "curse God and die" is evidence of this. Beyond this, I'm still musing on the meaning of the narrative. Apparently God has something to prove to Satan, at Job's expense (See chapters 1 & 2). Like I said, God will do anything to make us holy. And like Job, I'm terrified of that kind of love; because that kind of love doesn't feel like love. It feels like hatred. It feels like God has marked us as His enemies and set us up as His targets (7:20). And apart from sovereign grace, what feels like hatred is believed to be hatred and so the former "believers" become apostates.

We'll see what happens with Job. I'm only through chapter 23.

"I was at ease, but He has shattered me; 

He also has taken me by the neck, and shaken me to pieces;

He has set me up for His target. . ."

Job 16:12

God the Taker: Meditations on Job's Hope

My blogging regularity has suffered as of late along with other former regular practices. That's because something else consumes my thoughts and energies. And it is not a pleasant something or even one something. But never mind what I mean by "something". It wouldn't matter to you anyway. In addition, I have considered that my blog often reads much like a journal, chronicling thoughts and life events. Putting those things together leads me to write a bit this morning on God's piling up on His people. Some say whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I say whatever doesn't kill our bodies may nevertheless kill our spirits. Some dogs, when beaten, get mean and tough. Others become frightened and psychologically fragile. So it is with men.

I've been reading Job. And as I do I find myself becoming angry, with God, for what He brought upon His servant. I'm only in chapter 19, so I have a way to go. And of course I've read it before, but never with such interest. Job was convinced God was angry with him. He was sure he had become God's enemy. He states these things repeatedly. He even says, "As a mountain falls and crumbles away, and as a rock is moved from its place; As water wears away stones, and as torrents wash away the soil of the earth; So You (God) destroy the hope of man" (Job 14:18-19).

God is a taker, not just a giver. Job says so (1:21). And when God takes and takes and takes (1:13-19), do we become stronger? Does His not killing us make us tougher? No. We become weaker, at least initially. And perhaps that's His aim (See 2 Co 12:7-10), to produce a particular kind of beautiful weakness. I'm not altogether sure. Like I said, I'm only to chapter 19.