What we need are fewer revolutionaries and a few more plodding visionaries. That’s my dream for the church — a multitude of faithful, risktaking plodders. The best churches are full of gospel-saturated people holding tenaciously to a vision of godly obedience and God’s glory, and pursuing that godliness and glory with relentless, often unnoticed, plodding consistency.
Take a moment to read the rest of the article. It’s well worth your time.
Ray Ortlund has written a helpful post on being a gospel centered church.
How we treat one another reveals what we really believe as opposed to what we think we believe. It is possible to say, “We are a gospel-centered church,” and sincerely mean it, while we make our church into a law-centered social environment.
In the following promotional video for Redeemer Church Planting Center Tim Keller and other church planters explain why planting churches in the world’s big cities is so crucial.
Keller’s emphasis on cities has certainly caught my attention over the last few years. I’m still trying to figure out what to do about it on a personal level.
Jim Elliff’s Loving Even the Cantankerous is a brief article full of sound advice on dealing with difficult individuals in the church.
He was one of the most cantankerous men I had ever known. When all the church wished to move forward into a new area of ministry, you could count on him confronting the elders about it in a negative way. In fact, “negative” was his middle name. Our system of decision-making did not allow his views to be buried in a hidden vote, but brought him straight into contact with the leaders with whom he almost always disagreed. Time after time, there he was, the only “aginner.”
Last Sunday we sang “Not What My Hands Have Done” by Horatius Bonar in preparation for hearing the morning’s sermon from Romans 5. The lyrics have been running through my head all week so I wanted to share them here.
Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my awful load.
Your voice alone, O Lord, can speak to me of grace;
Your power alone, O Son of God, can all my sin erase.
No other work but Yours, no other blood will do;
No strength but that which is divine can bear me safely through.
Thy work alone, O Christ, can ease this weight of sin;
Thy blood alone, O Lamb of God, can give me peace within.
Thy love to me, O God, not mine, O Lord, to Thee,
Can rid me of this dark unrest, And set my spirit free.
I bless the Christ of God; I rest on love divine;
And with unfaltering lip and heart I call this Savior mine.
His cross dispels each doubt; I bury in His tomb
Each thought of unbelief and fear, each lingering shade of gloom.
I praise the God of grace; I trust His truth and might;
He calls me His, I call Him mine, My God, my joy and light.
’Tis He Who saveth me, and freely pardon gives;
I love because He loveth me, I live because He lives.
I would like to pose a question. In the observance of the Lord’s Supper are we offering something to God or is God offering something to us? Do we give to God or do we receive from Him? Do you think this is an important nuance to make conclusions about?
What exegetical and theological arguments would you use to support your position? Please share your thoughts.
