A Gallup survey I came across earlier this week testifies to this secular-mindedness. According to this nationwide poll, Alaska is the fourth least-religious state in the Union (actually, it’s tied with Massachusetts for the honor). Gallup says that ”40% of Americans [are] very religious – based on their statement that religion is an important part of their daily life and that they attend religious services every week or almost every week.” So, while 40% of Americans in general are “very religious”, only 28% of Alaskans are that way.

Here’s a map from the article that shows the relative strength of religion in all 50 states (the darker the green, the more religious):

One interesting thing is that the very question posed by Gallup may say more about our society than any of the answers given to it. Surely there are few times in history (and probably few places today) where it was not simply taken for granted by everybody that religion is “an important part of their daily life.” Religion has always been part of the very fabric of our human existence. Imagine asking a person in Medieval Europe, or in any given Muslim nation today, if religion is a big part of his life. The question would sound as rational as, “Is breathing an important part of your daily life?” Only in our hyper-secular culture could people even conceive of the notion of life devoid of religion.

Another interesting thing is that Alaska is a bit of an oddball for unreligious states. Almost all of the states that rank low in religiosity lean heavily to the left politically. But Alaska, where religion is relatively unimportant, is quite conservative. This Gallup study shows that, for the category of “Republican/Lean,” Alaska ranks 7th overall. So, unlike the other irreligious states, Alaska is not politically liberal but conservative (New Hampshire also fits this unusual profile).

Actually, this same Gallup study showed that Alaska is below the national average in the percentage of people who identify themselves as conservative (33.4% versus the average of 40%). But despite that, I still think it’s safe to call Alaska a politically conservative state (think Sarah Palin). Interestingly, the percentage of people in Alaska who consider themselves politically liberal is also below the national average (19.1% versus 20.6%). So, apparently people here don’t think of themselves as especially conservative or liberal. Consistent with this, of all 50 states, Alaska ranks second overall in the percentage of people who consider themselves moderate (40.6%). I guess you could say Alaska is an extremely moderate state!

What does this lack of religiosity mean for the church’s ministry and witness up here in “The Last Frontier”? Here are a few thoughts:

We need to meet people where they are, not where we think they should be.

When almost three-quarters of the state’s population are not counted as those who are “very religious”, should we be surprised that their lives are hardly Christian-like? What a shock – pagans who live like pagans! As Christians, without excusing sin or compromising our call to holiness (1 Peter 1:14-16), we need to be willing to interact with unbelievers in an understanding way. Remember – but for the grace of God go we. Let us make the gospel of Jesus Christ known to our unbelieving neighbors, and trust that God will grow in grace those whom he saves.

We should take care that our worship service is more or less accessible to most people.

This doesn’t mean we should dumb down our services, or make them “contemporary” or “seeker-sensitive.” But by “accessible” I mean the average non-church going person who is paying attention should be able to grasp the meaning of what is happening. We shouldn’t assume they’ll understand what being in church is all about. Our teaching and preaching should be clear, and the elements of our worship service should be explained from time to time.

We need to remember that conversion to Christ will mean, for most Alaskans, a radical lifestyle change.

Of course, as a minister of the gospel, my concern is not to make people more religious. My desire is to see sinners brought to eternal salvation by believing in Christ. But being united to Christ by faith for salvation means being joined to Christ’s body. That means those whom God saves by faith in Christ ought to be actively involved in the worship and life of the church (and not Lone Ranger Christians).

But church has its own culture distinct from the world around it. In church we speak a certain language, hold to certain values, practice certain traditions, and share certain customs. These facets to church culture are not, or at least they should not be, opposed to the gospel. Rather, they should serve to edify believers in the knowledge of Christ.

In a very religious state like Mississippi, there is much more overlap between the culture at large (where church plays a big part in most people’s lives, whether or not they are genuine believers) and church culture. A conversion there may look something like this. A  person grows up in a liberal mainline Protestant church and attends regularly, along with almost all of his friends and family, but then he comes to saving faith in Christ. As a result, he finds a church where the gospel is preached and begins worshiping there faithfully. The transition to active involvement in a Bible-believing church is relatively easy, because he grew up in a church-going culture.

But things will be different for the typical Alaskan who comes to faith in Christ. He didn’t grow up going to church, and so in his first visits there he found it a strange and vaguely threatening place. His friends and family probably won’t understand why he wants to go to church on Sunday instead of doing what he’s always done on Sundays. They may question his allegiance to a new group of people (those “religious” people). In general he’ll find it hard to make church an important part of his life when the only way of life he’s ever known had nothing to do with church. We need to keep this in mind.

Alaska’s low religiosity is a challenge for us here. But it’s also an opportunity. Against the background of a secular society, the distinctive life of God’s people, who worship and serve together out of love for Christ and love for one another for the sake of Christ, will (hopefully) stand in stark contrast (see 1 Peter 2:9). Perhaps, by the grace of God, this may compel Alaskans who are not saved to seek the Redeemer who indwells in the midst of his people.

Pastor Scott

Sometimes you hear it said, “There’s no such thing as a Lone Ranger Christian.” That’s wrong – there is such a thing. Of course, he doesn’t wear a red bandana and a black mask. He doesn’t ride a white horse and have a sidekick calling him “Kimosabe.” So how do you recognize this spiritual masked man? Here is a profile of the Lone Ranger Christian:

1. The Lone Ranger Christian does not submit to any church authority.

The Lone Ranger Christian always rides solo. To be shepherded and led by pastors and elders is fine for the ordinary believer, but not for him. This renegade sheep is quite able lead himself beside still waters, thank you very much. He is a self-shepherd. He’s really not opposed to authority per se. It’s just that he himself is his own authority. He says he answers only to God. That sounds noble, but his refusal to submit to others for the sake of Christ (Ephesians 5:21; 1 Peter 5:5) means that in reality he answers only to himself.

2. The Lone Ranger Christian does not commit to any church body.

Belonging to a local church body not only means submission to church authority, but it also entails dedication and commitment to one group of believers over an extended period of time. The Lone Ranger Christian won’t have it. He may enjoy Christian gatherings and even be the gregarious type, but his fellowship with other believers is always on his terms.

The Lone Ranger Christian often enjoys hearing good preaching and teaching. And he will even come to church to worship. But he won’t commit to the church. If he tires of one preacher, or if he gets bored with one church’s worship service, or if too many people rub him the wrong way, it’s “Hi-yo Silver, Away!”, and off he rides.

Though he rejects the church in this way, strangely, he needs the church. It serves as the necessary backdrop to sharpen his profile as the self-made man of God, beholden to no institution. Rather than devoting his energies to serving the church, in a parasitical way he looks better as the church looks worse. Christians committed to their churches are engaged in the work of learning to love one another, and to worship and serve together, a messy and difficult business because of our sin and natural selfishness. But the Lone Ranger Christian strikes a pose of daring independence, ever above the fray, proclaiming his allegiance to Jesus alone. Though he is blissfully free from the heartache and stress that true Christian community often entails, the tragedy is he knows nothing of the joy of genuine Christian fellowship. His independence often brings in its wake a sad loneliness.

3. The Lone Ranger Christian values his personal experience and beliefs over church teaching.

Orthodox Christian doctrine has always been a communal affair. Christ entrusted his words to his apostles, who in turn taught others, including pastors and teachers, who in turn taught churches. These churches were formed around a common confession of faith in Christ. Church councils worked through difficult theological questions together. And the Reformed confessions of faith were penned by assemblies, or if written by individuals, they were adopted by churches. In other words, true doctrine is church doctrine – the Bible says the church is the pillar and ground of the truth (1 Timothy 3:15).

But the Lone Ranger Christian, though he may hold orthodox views, will in the end appeal to his own understanding or his own experience as the final arbiter of Christian truth. In fact, he cherishes nothing so dearly as his own opinions. And what makes them right is not that they agree with Scripture, or with historic Christian orthodoxy, but that they are his.

4. The Lone Ranger Christian considers himself a teacher, not a student; a leader, not a follower.

The Lone Ranger Christian is naturally resistant to teaching, because to be taught demands a certain humility and willingness to submit to others. So he fancies himself a teacher. In the worst cases, he is the unique, self-appointed Teacher of Truth (you can often read his comments under internet articles dealing with religion). Likewise, the Lone Ranger Christian will not follow others. He imagines he would be a better leader than most of the pastors and elders he knows, but since he never learned to humbly follow others, he cannot be a true leader in Christ’s church.

Now, there are passages of Scripture you can show your Lone Ranger friend that indicate why all Christians should belong to a church (for example, Ephesians 4:1-16; Hebrews 10:25, 13:17; 1 Peter 5:1-5). But such talk will make him uneasy. He senses you are infringing on his cherished autonomy, and he doesn’t like it. Happily for him, just like the real Lone Ranger, he has a silver bullet to disarm any threats to his Christian independence. That silver bullet is one word: “legalism”. Speak of the need for church attendance, of commitment to the body of Christ, or of submitting to the authority Christ gave to his church, and he is likely to shoot them down with this one word.

What produces these Lone Ranger Christians? The root of the problem is pride. At heart we are all spiritual Lone Rangers. And so I suspect the above description may be fit us more than we like to admit.

But the next time you encounter the mysterious Christian who vanishes from your fellowship as quickly as he appeared (with the William Tell Overture playing in the background, of course), and you ask one another, “Who was that masked man, anyway?”,  now you know – it was the Lone Ranger Christian.

Pastor Scott

Like probably most of you, I follow politics and my interest grows when a major election approaches. I’ve been giving some thought to how Christians should think about politics. I offer here five principles that I believe should govern a Christian’s approach to politics. They are neither novel nor radical, but I do think they’re helpful and timely reminders. Like anything else, politics can easily become an idol. And my hope is that these thoughts will help Christians to honor God in their political thinking and involvement.

First, though, I’d like to put my cards on the table (when someone writes about politics or theology, I appreciate knowing where they stand). I am conservative, a registered Republican, and on the right on just about everything.

(For the more theologically inclined, I am neither an ardent two-kingdom proponent nor a theonomist. I don’t think the Bible is as silent on political matters as I sometimes hear the former claiming, nor do I think the broad application of Old Testament civil law to nations today is correct, as I sometimes hear the latter claiming. I’m not sure what that makes me – maybe confused. To be honest, I’m still working through some of these theological matters.)

That said, here are five principles to govern how Christians should think about politics:

1. Remember that Christ is Lord.

This is most important by far. There is but one King and Ruler over all peoples, and over all Creation – the Lord Jesus Christ. He reigns with absolute sovereignty, and is the One before whom “nations are like a drop from a bucket” (Isaiah 40:15).

No matter how much the current state of affairs distresses you, and no matter how dismal the future may look, and no matter who comes to power, never forget that Jesus Christ is the King of kings and Lord of lords (Rev. 19:16). He reigns now and forevermore.

Don’t misunderstand – I’m not saying you should be complacent or fatalistic. But, if being a Christian means anything at all, it means believing that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that he will accomplish his saving purpose for his people. It means you have hope, no matter how hopeless things look in this life.

Let the unbeliever make a god out of government and human strength. Let the unbeliever put his hope in politics. Christian, your God is Christ. And no matter what, even if a second Nero should arise and occupy the White House, Jesus reigns on his throne as the everlasting King.

2. Keep your perspective when thinking about politics.

The media, and those pursuing a political agenda, have a way of distorting the significance of the present all out of proportion. Every day’s political news is a five-alarm fire. The fate of civilization hangs on each election. There has never been a more important Supreme Court appointment (until the next one). And so on.

But if we become obsessed with the present (and by its very nature of trafficking in news, the media encourages this), we lose sight of the eternal. Pursuing holiness, loving your family, serving your church, growing in God’s Word, prayer – these are all activities that will bear fruit in this life and for eternity. But we neglect them when we allow the tyranny of the “here and now” to rule our hearts and minds.

3. Be humble about your political opinions.

On some political issues, Christians should have deep convictions formed by the plain teaching of God’s Word – for example, abortion and gay marriage.

But many political questions are not so clear-cut, and demand some expertise to understand and discuss intelligently. How much do you know about trade deficits, or energy policy, or foreign affairs? Of all people, a Christian should acknowledge the limits of his understanding on some matters, and be willing to hear the informed voices of others.

4. Keep in mind your calling.

Not every believer is called to be active in politics. Of course, every Christian should vote – it’s irresponsible not to. But most likely, where God wants you to spend your energy and time is closer to home: your spouse, your children, your church.

Here is some advice I gave recently to someone who is deeply concerned about politics: for every book you read on politics, read one on theology, or being a father and husband, or some other aspect of the Christian life. The Bible says very little about our political involvement, other than we are to be “subject to the governing authorities” (Romans 13:1). But it says a ton about how we are to live in our families and our churches. Most believers aren’t called to be political movers and shakers. Which is fine, because we as God’s people will have a far profounder influence on society simply as we are faithful to God in our individual callings, than we will by organized political action.

5. Remember that law cannot transform society – only the gospel can.

Politics is all about power, and much of that power is in the making and enforcing of laws. As Christians, we want good leaders who will put into place good laws. But good laws can only take us so far.

Try this mental exercise. Envision a nation whose every law was given by God himself. And not only that, but the ruler of this nation belonged to a royal dynasty whom God had chosen and installed. Would that not be a paradise on earth?

Actually, that nation existed. It was called Israel. And it was a disaster – the people were so crooked and idolatrous God cast them out of the promised land. Because of their sin (which we share), God’s law wasn’t enough to to ensure a righteous, peaceful, and prosperous society.

Even if every elected official in the U.S. was committed to putting into place righteous policies and laws, it would not establish God’s Kingdom on earth. Only preaching Christ can do that. And that is the calling of the Church, not the government.

Pastor Scott

But God was gracious, and he gave me the strength to prepare and preach this morning. My sermon was from 1 Peter 5:1-5, where Peter exhorts the elders to be faithful shepherds of God’s flock. It’s always humbling to hear again the kind of service God requires of elders (and as a minister, I am an elder): “not under compulsion, but willingly,… not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock” (vs. 2, 3). I reminded the elders – preaching to myself at the same time – that an overseer’s entire life ought to be an example worth emulating. No sweat, right? That’s a high calling, and I know in many ways I fall short in living an exemplary life. But, I pray and trust Christ will use even my faltering service as a pastor and elder to encourage and bless others.

In the evening, I spoke from Isaiah 50. This chapter contains the third “Servant Song” in which Christ speaks through Isaiah of his future ministry on earth. I enjoyed the fellowship afterwards. We came home, had pizza, and now it’s time to reclaim that stolen hour of sleep!

Pastor Scott

But I came home yesterday evening tired out, and needing to put together the sermon for Sunday morning (I did manage to do the groundwork – translation, commentary study, etc. – before Saturday). With a cup of hot tea by my side, and my thoughts re-directed from the ceremony to the sermon passage, I got to work and managed to finish by 11:30 p.m. or so. The passage was 1 Peter 4:12-19, in which the apostle writes about suffering as a Christian. I trust that God blessed his Word in some way to those who came this morning.

Our family then hosted a young couple from church for lunch. Sander put on a little show for our guests by pouring Tabasco sauce into a spoon and drinking it straight. Funny kid.

At the evening service, I spoke on Isaiah 49:1-13, the second of the four “Servant Songs” in Isaiah. My point was that Christ was the true Israel (v.3), who fulfilled Israel’s calling to be the means of blessing and salvation for the nations of the world (v.6).

Pastor Scott

Poor Sisyphus. He crossed the gods, and is still paying for it (that is, if you believe in Greek mythology). He is forced to roll a massive boulder up a hill. But just before he reaches the top, the rock gets away and rolls down all the way to the bottom. So he must begin the work over, straining to push the stone upward, only to see it tumble down again. And then up again, and down again. And again, and again, and again, forever. This was the unbearable hell (as though there is any other kind) imposed on Sisyphus: an eternity of fruitless, futile, and utterly meaningless toil.

We feel his pain. Ever since Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden, where their work was always fruitful and satisfying, our labors in this sin-cursed world are often frustrating and seemingly wasted. Like Sisyphus, at times we suffer the agony of unproductive toil (for me, whenever I attempt a household repair). And in the face of our own mortality, and in light of the fact that time has a way of scrubbing even our most enduring accomplishments, we wonder what lasting value our work has at all. Sisyphus would have found a kindred spirit in Solomon, who asked, “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?” (Ecclesiastes 1:3).  That’s a rhetorical question – the answer is “nothing”. And so Solomon cries out, “Vanity of vanities,… vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (v.2).

One of the glorious truths of the gospel is that Christ, the Son of God, entered completely into our human experience – including sharing in our pain and sorrow. There’s a remarkable verse in Isaiah that seems to say Jesus even felt the grief of seemingly wasted effort. Christ (Isaiah’s “Servant of the Lord”) says this: “I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity…” (Isaiah 49:4). Now Jesus knew full well his suffering and obedience was God’s will for him, and was therefore purposeful (Matthew 26:39). And what’s more, the Bible says Jesus endured the cross “for the joy that was set before him” (Hebrews 12:2). His faith in God’s purpose for him never faltered. Surely Jesus could not have suffered the existential agony of thinking he labored and suffered in vain. And yet that is exactly what he said through Isaiah: “I have labored in vain.”

There is mystery in these words. It is a mystery bound up with the incarnation – Jesus was fully God, yet his experience as a man was fully human. And what man, having been betrayed by one friend and abandoned by the rest, having been rejected by his own people, dying on a Roman cross, completely alone, would not think his time on earth had been all for naught – “I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity”? Again, these words are enigmatic; they defy a facile explanation. But, we can say part of the suffering Jesus endured in his earthly ministry was the pain of seemingly wasted effort. After three years of exhausting, conflict-ridden, painstaking ministry, it seemed there was precious little fruit to show for it.

But there was more than meets the eye. Of course no sane person would have looked at Jesus on the cross and said, “There is a man doing a great work.” Yet it was on the cross that Christ brought to completion the greatest work ever accomplished: redeeming a people from sin and death forever. Isaiah goes on in his prophecy to say of Christ: “Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied” (Isaiah 53:11). The suffering and death of Christ seemed fruitless to human eyes, and in some impenetrable way, even to Jesus himself. Yet the result was resurrection for Jesus, and eternal life for sinners. And Jesus is satisfied with the fruit of his labors.

And for those who belong to Christ by faith, God promises that work done in his name is never fruitless. “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). The missionary who spends forty years in Japan and sees only a handful of conversions? His labor is not in vain. The small-church pastor who for two decades pours himself out for the flock, only to see the church dissolve at his retirement? His labor is not in vain. The mother who devotes herself to her child, loving him with prayers and tears, only to see him walk away from the faith? Her labor is not in vain.

Christian, have you tasted the bitter frustration and heartbreaking discouragement of seemingly wasted time and effort in your service for Christ? Know that God hasn’t given you a sisyphean task. But, like the very work of your Savior in his suffering and death, it may be your strength spent on “nothing and vanity” that produces the best fruit for God’s glory.

Pastor Scott

And I’m glad the foxes didn’t reappear during the morning service – I would have lost everybody’s attention for sure.

I took a break this morning from 1 Peter to preach from 2 Corinthians 9:6-15. The subject was giving to the church. I chose this topic not because the congregation gives poorly (in fact, offerings last year were solid), but as an encouragement to people in their giving to the church. It’s not a message I preach frequently, but I thought it was appropriate since today was our annual congregational meeting. I had two parts to the message: giving produces thanksgiving, and thanksgiving produces giving. I said I don’t believe Christians are bound to give a tithe (10% of income) to the church, as the Old Testament saints were commanded to do. But, I said 10% is a good standard of giving. And whatever the amount, we should give cheerfully and sacrificially. Just as Christ made himself poor for our sake, that we might become rich (8:9), so our giving should make us a little poorer. And God’s promise stands: “whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully” (9:6).

After the service we had our annual congregational meeting. It went smoothly – we adopted a budget and took care of other “business” matters. Church meetings, whether congregational or presbytery, are a necessary part of doing things “decently and in order” (1 Corinthians 14:40). But, they don’t excite me much. I’m just fine with having the congregational meeting once a year!

Friends came over to stay the afternoon, and after a meal, conversation, and a nap, it was time to head back to church for the evening service. My passage this evening was from Isaiah 48:12-22.

Another full but satisfying Lord’s Day of ministry!

Pastor Scott

The Christian answer is the Church, those who are bound together by a common belief in Jesus Christ. And other religions form their own communities. But what is the secular counterpart to this kind of community, when there is no article of faith to bind people together? There really isn’t any, according to Alain de Botton, author of Religion for Atheists: A Non-Believers Guide to the Uses of Religion. In an excerpt from the book that appears in the online version of the Wall Street Journal, de Botton writes:

One of the losses that modern society feels most keenly is the loss of a sense of community. We tend to imagine that there once existed a degree of neighborliness that has been replaced by ruthless anonymity, by the pursuit of contact with one another primarily for individualistic ends: for financial gain, social advancement, or romantic love.

de Botton is an atheist who is troubled by this lack of community in modern, secular society. His proposal is that we adopt the practices and traditions of established religions, strip them of all theological content, and then use them to foster genuine community among ourselves. As an example, he suggests a secular revamping of the early Christian practice of sharing communal meals. At these agape-feasts (agape means “love”), Christians enjoyed loving communion with each other as they ate together. de Botton sketches out a secular version of the love-feast: “Agape Restaurants” where people would gather for a meal, sit with strangers, and engage in meaningful conversation with others about matters that are important – our hopes, fears, regrets, and loves. de Botton writes:

 Thanks the Agape Restaurant, our fear of strangers would recede. The poor would eat with the rich, the black with the white, the orthodox with the secular, workers with managers, scientists with artists. The claustrophobic pressure to derive all of our satisfactions from our existing relationships would ease, as would our desire to climb ever higher in social status.

The Agape Restaurants would be as ritual-laden as any religious gathering, but built upon a purely secular, humanistic understanding of ourselves and the world. de Botton admires the community-building structures of religion, and so he proposes to imitate these structures for the sake of fostering genuine human fellowship. But of course, he would gut these structures of all religious content.

I appreciated de Botton’s concern about the lack of community in secular society. He is surely right about this. And his willingness, despite being an unbeliever, to see value in religious practices and institutions is a refreshing change of tone from that of many militant atheists who not only reject religion in general but feel the need ridicule it.

But there is something sad in his ideas, a wistful longing for the experience of genuine human community that the secular world with which he identifies has put just out of reach. His is the voice of the lonely modern man, surrounded by people, yet failing to connect with others in any meaningful way. Many people’s interaction with others never goes beyond the banal and superficial. I think Thoreau’s words are true today, with one twist: The mass of men lead lives of lonely, quiet desperation.

I believe de Botton’s proposal to form community through secular versions of religious rituals cannot succeed for the same reason the secular desire to retain morality apart from religious faith must fail. Both genuine morality and true community cannot long be sustained apart from belief in God. In the case of the former, without God there can be no absolute standard of right and wrong. As for the latter, at the very core of religious communities is a shared belief in some transcendent truth. Genuine fellowship as de Botton seeks can only result when people are bound to one another out of the conviction that there is something greater than either the parts or the whole of their community. A secular worldview, taken seriously, does not gives us any such conviction. de Botton’s hope to build community out of God-less humanism is no more likely to happen than making concrete without the cement.

At the heart of our struggle to find community is sin.  By nature we are selfish and self-loving; but real community demands sacrifice and love for others. For this reason the only hope we have for deep, authentic, soul-nourishing community is if such a fellowship consists of people who have been redeemed from the power of sin and love of self, and who are being transformed by God’s grace into people who love others. Genuine community is a gift of God’s grace, the fruit of the saving work of Christ, and enjoyed, albeit imperfectly, by those who have been restored to a right relationship with God by faith in Christ. Where the love of Christ is present, where forgiveness and grace are extended to others, where, in short, sin’s baneful effects are being overcome by the grace of God, then there is the hope for genuine community.

Perhaps if de Botton, and other secular-minded people like him, saw genuine Christian community in action (and would that there was more of it!), they would abandon the attempt to create an empty alternative. Instead, they would come to discover the source of true community:

that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you; so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ (1 John 1:3)

Pastor Scott

This cover picture on the bulletin sparked some interest today (I’m not criticizing the person who prepares the bulletins – she just used the next set of blanks from the box that we ordered). Instead of the usual mountain vistas or flowered fields, today’s picture was this group of empty stadium seats. It’s an unlikely shot for a church bulletin (can I be blamed for thinking today about the upcoming baseball season?), but the accompanying verse adds some intrigue. Do the uniform seats symbolize the unity of the Spirit? There’s something vaguely unsettling about the absence of people in the seats, as though we tried to keep the unity of the Spirit and here’s what happened. Or, would a visitor think we aspire to be the next Lakewood Church of Joel Osteen fame (or better, notoriety), since it meets in the former home of the Houston Rockets? Or perhaps the Sabbatarian’s dream for Super Bowl Sunday?

In any case, what’s a picture on the bulletin, after all? What’s important is that God’s people met for worship today. At the morning service I preached from 1 Peter 4:7-11. I asked the question, “what does a church look like that glorifies God?” Peter gives us four marks of such a church. In a church that brings glory to God and Christ:

1. God’s people will watch and pray.

2. God’s people will love one another zealously and steadfastly.

3. God’s people are cheerfully hospitable to one another.

4. God’s people serve one another with the gifts God has given them.

During the service, it was a joy to have a new couple to the church profess their faith and formally unite with the congregation. He is from an OP church, and she is from a PCA church. They just married in October of last year and this is their first church to have membership in together as a couple.

In the evening, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper. We do this once a month both at the morning and evening services. When we have communion on Sunday nights, I preach from a Psalm – today’s was Psalm 125. My message centered on verses 1 and 2, both of which use wonderful imagery to depict God’s eternal love for his people. Verse 2, which resonates with us up here in many-peaked Alaska, says:

As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds his people, from this time forth and forevermore.

What a grand statement of God’s everlasting care for us! Next time I preach from this Psalm I’ll be sure to have a bulletin cover with mountains.

Pastor Scott

I confess there are times that when counseling others I feel like I’m “winging it” – not sure exactly what to say, how to say it, and unsure just how helpful my words have been (on these occasions, belief in the sovereignty of God is a particular comfort to me!). And I suspect many other ministers would say the same. To the pastor – and to every Christian – who desires to offer godly, sage, and fruitful counsel to people with problems, David Powlison offers much wisdom and encouragement in his book, Seeing with New Eyes.

This is the first work of what the author plans to be a three-book series on the topic of counseling. Though Seeing with New Eyes is a collection of various essays Powlison has previously written, and thus as a book is not a seamless whole, there is an underlying purpose throughout. And that is, to establish a thoroughly Scriptural basis for the work of counseling. As the author puts it in the Preface:

The first book… focuses on the conceptual. It unfolds Scripture’s view of people and problems. It reinterprets common counseling phenomena through God’s eyes, as revealed in Scritpure. (pg. 7)

Since the chapters were at one time separate articles, the ride through the book is a little bumpy at times. But overall, the main theme of the book is clear enough: we must counsel people in the light of Scripture. From this one essential theme of the book, there are three major points that Powlison makes again and again in the book. These “bullet points” are not Powlison’s, but mine. But, I believe they do fairly capture the essence of his message.

First, though, Powlison’s definition of counseling deserves mention: it is “intentionally helpful conversations” (pg. 1). This way of defining counseling serves us well, for it dispels the notion that Christian counseling is the unique domain of highly-trained professionals. Rather, every believer who, in love, speaks God’s truth to another is engaged in counseling (Ephesians 4:15). In line with this, Powlison writes for ordinary believers. What he says will profit any interested Christian who desires to have “intentionally helpful conversations” with others.

Here are three points that sum up the content of Seeing with New Eyes:

1. Biblical counseling is based on the belief in the utter reliability and sufficiency of Scripture to address our problems.

Everything Powlison writes is grounded in the conviction that God’s Word reveals infallible truth about who God is, and who we are his creatures. Our understanding of our true needs, our true problems, the dynamics of personal relationships, and every other dimension of human nature and behavior must come from the Bible if we are to offer any helpful and genuine counsel to others.

In fact, the first part of the book is devoted entirely to applying specific Scriptures (Ephesians, Psalms 10 & 131, and Luke 12) to a whole host of struggles and problems that drive people to seek counsel: troubled relationships with others, fear, anxiety, suffering because of abuse, and so on. In this way, Powlison demonstrates how biblical counseling is not just a name for secular counseling with a Christian veneer, but is rather an approach to understanding the human condition in the full light of God’s revelation to us in the Scriptures.

2. Biblical counseling apprehends the profound depth and power of sin.

Taking the Bible seriously means taking sin seriously. This may be the most helpful aspect of Powlison’s work, because again and again he shows how secular psychological theories and practice, and more dismayingly, how much that goes on in the name of Christian counseling, either outright denies sin, or tames sin to the point of irrelevance.

In the course of the book, Powlison analyzes a whole host of common counseling terms, metaphors, and models, both secular and “Christian”, to show how they fail to do justice to the Bible’s comprehensive view of human sin (and therefore fail to address the deepest cause for human misery and need). This includes the notion that family upbringing determines future behavior (chapters 10 and 12), the morally neutral categories of “defense mechanisms” (chapter 11), the idea that unmet emotional needs are the source of human dysfunction (an “empty love tank”, chapter 14), and the growing use of drugs to treat psychological problems (chapter 15).

In their place, Powlison offers biblical concepts and terms that account for the true nature of man: pride, lust, idolatry, fear of man, and so on. Man is not a machine that can be fixed like a broken engine, but an image-bearer of God created to be in communion with God and others. But, sin has destroyed our fellowship with God and it poisons our relationships with other people. For this reason, as Powlison writes, “… the Bible never views human problems as ontological but as relational or ethical at their cores” (pg. 192). So, the goal of biblical counseling is not merely modified behavior, but repentance and turning in faith to Christ. And that leads to the third major point Powlison makes – the hope that true biblical counseling holds forth.

3. Biblical counseling presents to people the one true source for human well-being: Jesus Christ.

The aim of biblical counseling is no different from the aim of all ministry of the Word – to bring people to saving faith in Christ and establish them in that faith. Because at heart our problem is sin (no matter how our experiences have shaped us), above all we need grace, forgiveness, and salvation. Powlison always keeps this in view – he never sets up mere human happiness or improved behavior as ends in themselves. Rather, his passion in counseling, which is evident throughout the book, is to lead people to a greater knowledge of God through faith in Christ. Only Jesus can impart true and lasting peace and joy to the human heart. Therefore, only that counseling that leads people to the life-giving Savior is truly “biblical”.

In the Preface, Powlison sums up these points this way:

The biblical model is more than one more “model,” conceptual system, or personality theory among many. Truth mediates a Person, a working Redeemer. To be human is to love a Savior, Father, Master, and Lord. Instead of “psychopathology” and “syndromes,” we see “sins” against this Person, and we see sufferings that are “trials” revealing our need for a true Deliverer and refuge. Instead of proposing that some psychodynamic insight, met need, altered self-talk, or behavioral rehabituation will cure us, we receive God’s actual mercies as our salvation. Instead of defining change as an intra-psychic, psychosocial, or biological process of “healing” or “growth,” we define change and turning to a Person whom we trust, obey, and seek to please. (pg. 4)

Seeing with New Eyes is a straightforward and unabashed appeal for counseling that is comprehensively Scriptural. And so he levels some hefty (and necessary, in my view) criticism against theories of counseling that are secular or only superficially Christian. But Powlison cannot be dismissed as a fundamentalist crank who in knee-jerk fashion rejects all of which he is ignorant. He was educated and trained in psychiatry, and for four years worked in psychiatric hospitals. In the book he interacts intelligently, though critically, with mainstream secular views of counseling. So Powlison writes about counseling from a decidedly biblical perspective, but also with the personal authority and credibility of one who also has extensive experience in, and knowledge of, the wider field of counseling. One would hope this would help give him a broader reading outside of Christian circles, but I suspect that is unlikely.

I don’t have much criticism to offer, but a couple of questions came to mind as I read Seeing with New Eyes. The first has to do with Powlison’s treatment of Scripture in chapter 1, “Counsel Ephesians.” His concern is that we see Scripture as fundamentally applicable and practical, not as abstract doctrine.  He writes:

Ephesians is not just about practical theology, it is practical theology. The distinction between “biblical truth” and “practical application” is artificial. In the Bible, truth arrives in action. (pg. 18)

Insofar as Powlison wants to stress the “living and active” nature of God’s Word (Hebrews 4:12), as opposed to dry, esoteric information, I agree with him. But I wonder if someone might get the idea that any formal instruction in theology (for example, catechism training), that is given apart from immediate application is unhelpful and unnecessary for Christians? I don’t think Powlison believes this, but as he emphasizes so strongly the practical nature of Scripture, a person could come away with this impression.

The second question that came to mind concerns the context in which biblical counseling takes place. If the Bible provides the truth with which we understand people and give them counsel, it also gives us the context in which we as Christians are to grow in our faith. And that context is the church with its life and ministry: preaching, teaching, the sacraments, prayer, and fellowship. Actually, Powlison addresses this question in the Preface where he writes that the second book of this series will speak of the institutional structures in which biblical counseling takes place. But without bringing the life of the church to the fore at this point, one might get a truncated view of biblical counseling – that like secular models, it’s all about what takes place between the counselor and person counseled. But the biblical model of growth in grace involves so much more – it involves the entire ministry of the church and the whole Body of Christ (Ephesians 4:1-16) . Again, Powlison wouldn’t deny this, but the all-important context of biblical counseling is mostly left out in this volume.

Pastor Scott