Seek Ye First
by R.C. Sproul Jr.

Every culture and subculture has its own taboos. Not all of them are the same, however. Given that we are all human, how can we explain the divergence of cultural standards? Why is it that one culture will find adultery to be a mere peccadillo, while another will consider it the unforgivable sin? Why was it that in polite society in Victorian England one did not call the leg of a table the leg of the table, for fear of offending delicate sensibilities, while on the other hand, there were more brothels in London than there were churches? The answer may get at the grave sins of our own broader culture.

Certainly a culture committed to ethical relativism, the notion that there is no objective right and wrong, will hang its moral hat on its stunted view of the command of Jesus that we judge not, lest we be judged. (Cheerily skipping over the too embarrassing reality that they are judging the judgers, and thus judging themselves.) Accusing someone of wrongdoing is just about as bad as it can get in the world -- not to mention the evangelical world. Not far behind that grand taboo, however, stands this one. We can commit this sin or that. We can manifest this grave character flaw or that. But to really earn your way into the rogue's gallery, you must commit this heinous sin -- hypocrisy.

Jesus, of course, had some harsh words for hypocrites, "Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and the plate but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence" (Matt. 23:25). Hypocrisy is a real sin, something to be ashamed of, something to repent for. It's shameful to its core. But there is something to be said for it. In fact, Francois de La Rouchefoucauld said this about it, "Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue." The hypocrite, while caught up in whatever sin he is caught up in, plus being caught up in hypocrisy, has this going for him: he is able to recognize virtue and desires to be perceived as virtuous, even while lacking virtue. We hypocrites cover our sins because, while we certainly commit them, we recognize them as sins. While it is far better to be good than to look good, in either case we confess, however feebly, the reality of the good.

This, I believe, is the driving force behind this cultural taboo. We postmoderns hate hypocrisy not because we have such an abiding commitment to honesty, but for the same reason we judge so harshly those who judge, because we are dishonest enough to pretend there is no such thing as virtue. Those who hide their vice by masquerading it as virtue commit the one cardinal sin -- affirming the reality of sin. They break the social contract by confessing a higher standard.

Hypocrisy, then, to the broader culture isn't just the one deadly sin, but avoiding hypocrisy is also the means of atonement for sin. This is why we hear people argue, "Well, I may be selfish and egotistical, but at least I'm honest about it." Or, stranger still, we have philanderers who suggest, "Well, I may not have kept my marriage vows, but at least I'm honest about it." This proud confession of sin is a diabolical perversion of true repentance. We "acknowledge" our sin in that we admit to doing what we did. But we dismiss the sin because in admitting it we make it no longer a sin. Imagine if the serpent were to confess, "Well, sure I rebelled against the maker of heaven and earth, and sought to topple Him from His throne. But hey, at least I'm honest about it."

If we were honest about our sins, we would not only admit to committing them, but we would recognize them for what they are, each and every one of them rebellion against the maker of heaven and earth, each and every one of them an attempt to topple Him from His throne. If we were honest about our sins, we would not cover them up, but cover our eyes, because to look at them is simply too painful. If we were honest about our sins, we would admit that what we are usually doing when "admitting" our sins is copping a plea. Maybe, we rationalize in the quiet of our hearts, if I admit to this, they won't see these other sins. If we were honest about our sins, we would admit that all our games fail us, that all our sins follow us.

To understand the broader culture we have to grasp this reality. The world is not happily pursuing their vices without a care in the world. They are instead pursuing their vices under the cloud of an ever present knowledge of who they are. The defining quality of every culture not built around the Gospel is the haunting of sin. Which is why the solution for every culture, just as it is for every member of that culture, is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He did not "honest" away our sins. He did not relativize our sins. Instead, He paid for them. He bore the wrath and fury of His Father that was due for our sins. He knows them more intimately than we ever will. And yet, glory be to the Father, they have been washed away in His blood.

*****

Dr. R.C. Sproul Jr. is founder of the Highlands Study Center in Mendota, Virginia.

From Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. ©2008 Tabletalk Magazine.

Tolle Lege: Take Up and Read
by Keith A. Mathison

It should come as little surprise to learn that the doctrine of the substitutionary atonement of Christ has come under renewed criticism in recent decades. The Reformers dealt with such criticisms and attacks from the Socinians. Our more recent forefathers in the faith dealt with such criticisms and attacks from rationalists and liberals. Today we hear such criticisms and attacks from a wide variety of sources. We are surrounded by so much anti-Christian rhetoric, however, that it is hardly a shock to hear the doctrine of substitutionary atonement referred to derisively as "cosmic child abuse" by a popular contemporary Christian author. Such comments reflect a widespread discontent with the traditional doctrine. If we are not troubled by such attacks, we should be, for the atonement is at the heart of Christ's redemptive work and thus key to a proper understanding of the Gospel.

Steve Jeffery, Mike Ovey, and Andrew Sach, all associated with Oak Hill Theological College in London, have done the church a great service by restating and defending the doctrine of the penal substitutionary atonement of Christ. Their book, Pierced for Our Transgressions: Rediscovering the Glory of Penal Substitution (Inter-Varsity/Crossway, 2007), stands in the tradition of great works on the subject by men such as A.A. Hodge and Leon Morris. It is, however, distinctive in several ways. It seeks to present in one volume a detailed study of the relevant biblical texts, a study of the important theological issues, and a survey of the teaching of the church over the course of the centuries. This is no simple task, but the authors largely succeed. The book is also distinctive in that it successfully steers a course between introductory level works and those of a more technical nature. The fact that it is deliberately aiming to steer such a course means that the discussions in the book are not exhaustive. But it also means that any interested reader should be able to follow the arguments with little difficulty.

The authors provide a summary definition of penal substitution at the very beginning of their book: "The doctrine of penal substitution states that God gave himself in the person of his Son to suffer instead of us the death, punishment and curse due to fallen humanity as the penalty for sin." The remainder of the book is devoted to explaining, clarifying, and defending this doctrine. The authors argue "that penal substitution is clearly taught in Scripture, that it has a central place in Christian theology, that a neglect of the doctrine will have serious pastoral consequences, that it has an impeccable pedigree in the history of the Christian church, and that all of the objections raised against it can be comprehensively answered."

In Part One, the authors make the case for the doctrine of penal substitution. They begin with a detailed study of the most important biblical texts relevant to the subject. They then look at the whole of Christian theology and seek to demonstrate that the doctrine of penal substitution has a central place. A final chapter surveys the teaching of great theologians throughout church history in order to demonstrate that the doctrine of penal substitution is not a novelty.

In Part Two, the authors present every conceivable objection raised by critics and proceed to answer them one by one. They categorize the objections under several helpful headings: Penal Substitution and the Bible; Penal Substitution and Culture; Penal Substitution and Violence; Penal Substitution and Justice; Penal Substitution and our Understanding of God; and Penal Substitution and the Christian Life. The authors conclude with a brief word for pastors encouraging them to preach this doctrine faithfully.

As helpful as the book is, it is no surprise that it comes with ten full pages of endorsements by prominent evangelical scholars from around the world. I add my voice to those who would enthusiastically recommend this book. If you are a believer, saved from the wrath of God, you are so only because of the atoning work of Christ. If you are a Christian, destined for eternal life, you are so only because Jesus died in your place bearing the penalty due to you. He was wounded for our transgressions, and He was crushed for our iniquities. It is by His stripes that we are healed. The doctrine of substitutionary atonement, then, is not another doctrinal football intended to be kicked around on the playground of ivory tower academics. It is a truly amazing and awe-inspiring thing to contemplate. Were we to grasp more fully everything that Jesus did for each of us on the cross, our prayer, our worship, our entire lives would be transformed forever.

*****

Dr. Keith A. Mathison is an associate editor of Tabletalk magazine and will be writing the book reviews for Tolle Lege this year.

From Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. ©2008 Tabletalk Magazine.

Pastor's Perspective
by Robert S. Rayburn

Pride is the idolatry of the self. It is the nature of pride as competition with God -- the displacing of God by the self at the center -- that has led many Christian thinkers through the ages to regard pride (superbia) as the mother sin and the essential element in all sin. It is strongly suggested in the Bible that pride was Satan's primary sin (1 Tim. 3:6), and from that pride in his case came every manner of hostility to God and man: evil desire, hatred, cruelty, and deceit. In the same way, man's fall resulted from his being persuaded by Satan that he might throw off his creaturely limitations and be "like God" (Gen. 3:5). From that pride has come all the rest of the evil that men think, say, and do, much -- if not all -- of which is motivated by the desire of men and women either to serve themselves or to protect their place at the center of their existence. Whether lust, greed, anger, or indifference toward others, it is not hard to see such sins as the expression of self-worship. A person does not necessarily deny that God is immeasurably greater than himself, but admissions of that type are no match for raging self-admiration in the heart.

The worst sin of pride consists in its breathtaking dishonesty: constructing a view of oneself in defiance of the facts. Pride, as Aquinas put it, is an offense against right reason. Or as Mother Teresa once said, "I am always very glad that my slanderers should tell a trifling lie about me rather than the whole terrible truth." It is the testimony of the Christian ages that the holiest men and women are invariably the most keenly aware of the humiliation they would suffer if others ever discovered the enormity of their moral failure.

Samuel Rutherford was only speaking for a great company of Christians when he wrote, "despair might almost be excused, if everyone in this land saw my inner side." And William Law said that he would rather be hanged and his body thrown in a swamp than that anyone should be allowed to look into his heart! It is man's most monumental effrontery to imagine that a selfish, petty collection of unworthy desires such as himself belongs in the center, even of his own life. The insidious nature of pride is such that men and women rarely appreciate how proud they are, and the index of pride's power over the heart is that even the purest motions of the Christian soul are deeply affected by it. Indeed, it is possible to be proud of one's confessions of sin and unworthiness or secretly to congratulate oneself on one's "brokenness." As anyone knows who has struggled against it, one of pride's most sinister effects is its dulling our sense of appreciation for the kindness and mercy of God.

A Christian, of course, would never say that he deserved salvation, perhaps never think it; but the difficulty every Christian has in being and remaining genuinely amazed and heart-broken at God's grace to him or her is evidence enough of the pride that still fills the heart. We think so well of ourselves; it is very hard to think that God should not as well.

It is the power and prevalence of pride as the principle sin of the human heart that explains the concentration on self-denial and humility in the Bible's teaching on the Christian life, what Charles Simeon called "growing downwards." It is not too much to say, as Augustine did (Letters, 118), that humility is the first, the second, and the third part of godliness. If, he said, humility did not precede, accompany, and follow every action we perform, it would not be a good work. Paul said that it is in living for God and others rather than for ourselves -- the Bible's simplest definition of humility -- that we are most like Jesus Christ (Phil. 2:3-4). If someone so worthy of the worship of all nevertheless devoted Himself to the life of others, how much more ought we sinners saved by grace cheerfully live the life of a servant? And our lives cannot be a fit response to God's grace if we do not live in heart and behavior as those who know very well that we have nothing that we did not receive (1 Cor. 4:7).

But to put pride to death is lifelong work of the most difficult kind. We get no help from our culture. Pride is a topic of little interest to modern psychology or the self-help industry, and self-congratulation has become an accepted art form in the era of the "touchdown dance." Nowadays, low self-esteem is likely to be thought a far more serious problem than pride. But the godly have always known that true goodness requires the killing of their pride, and they learned soon enough that there was no gentle way to go about it. It had to be hacked to death. One good man after another has instructed himself in these or similar words: "Talk not about myself"; "Desire to be unknown"; and "Lord, Deliver me from the lust of vindicating myself."

Once Francis of Assisi became a celebrated figure and the object of constant adulation, he is said to have assigned to a fellow monk the task of reminding him of his failures and of how little he deserved the praise he was receiving. There are other reasons to confess our sins to one another constantly, but the mortification of our pride is chief among them. Hard work; but the selflessness of the truly humble is one of the most beautiful things in the world and one of the greatest honors we can pay to our Savior.

*****

Dr. Robert S. Rayburn is senior minister of Faith Presbyterian Church in Tacoma, Wash., and the stated clerk of the presbytery of the Pacific Northwest (PCA).

From Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. ©2008 Tabletalk Magazine.

by John H. Gerstner

Negative Providence

What do we mean by negative providence? Suppose we begin with the late comedian Ed Wynn's definition based on a slight alteration of some famous lines:

There is a destiny that shapes our ends rough; Hew them how we may.

This is negative enough, but is it providence? No, this is Greek fatalism rather than Christian providence. Why? Because human behavior is disregarded. "Hew them how we may"--that makes no difference. Compare, for an example of this type of thinking, the great Greek tragedian Sophocles' Oedipus Rex. This king, Oedipus, is destined to kill his father and marry his mother. No matter how innocent of either he may try to be, he unknowingly and inevitably does both. Though he consciously strives to avoid these sins, he does them nonetheless and is held guilty for them. So his mother commits suicide, and he gouges out his eyes and goes into solitary and hopeless exile.

The certainty of the end is present in this tragic definition of negative providence. In the Wynn satire the man "hews"; in Sophocles' tragedy Oedipus does all in his power to avoid fate. Neither actor is a puppet; each one strives, though to no avail. But what is lacking in these two accounts? It is the connection between the end and the means. There is no connection between end and means, between destiny and striving. The end comes to pass regardless of striving; indeed, it comes in spite of striving against it. The destiny shapes ends rough, hew them how we may--that is, though we hew to the moral line in an endeavor to make our destiny smooth, it remains rough. Oedipus is essentially a moral person, generally admired by his family and subjects. But all this means nothing for he is destined to commit the accursed crimes of patricide and incest (and accursed crimes they remain although he intends neither of them).

What a contrast to all of this is the negative providence of Scripture! Compare Acts 2:23: "Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken and by wicked men's hands have crucified and slain." Judas and others indeed delivered Christ up according to the eternal counsel and foreknowledge of God, but they did so by "wicked hands." Their "hands" were not inactive; they were certainly not opposed to this dreadful deed. On the contrary, they willfully chose to do the awful deed, for they were denominated "wicked hands." This illustrates the constant Bible teaching about negative providence, namely that the doers are always voluntary doers, willing actors, guilty men.

Putting the picture together, this is what we find: Negative providence is the divine appointment even of wicked and calamitous events, but not apart from--rather, through--the willing, though wicked, determinations of men.

There are two forms of negative providence. The first is external.

Providence applies to the totality of things. Since we are here concerned only with the human creature, we note that providence applies to the total person. The total human person is a composite one. Thomas Aquinas observed that man, in possessing a spirit, resembles angels; in possessing a body, he resembles animals. Furthermore, in addition to man's having two parts to his personality, body and spirit, he has two periods, time and eternity. Providence relates to both the temporal and the eternal.

So we consider first that form of negative providence which affects the external, bodily, and temporal aspects of the human personality. Christ referred to temporal providence when He spoke of the hairs of our head being numbered. Both our temporal lives and our environment are part of providence, but the tragic as well as the beneficent elements of the external and temporal are part of providence. For example, Christ said that He must go as it was written of Him, that He must be killed at Jerusalem, and that the Shepherd would be smitten, and the like. All of these evil events concerning death are therefore of divine foreordination.

There is a time coming, the Bible says, when God will reveal more fully the displeasure which He now feels. Meanwhile, it appears to the psalmist as if God is slumbering and needs to be aroused. But God is waiting until the "cup of iniquity" is full. Thus He withholds His judgment against the Amorites: "But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again, for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full" (Genesis 15:16). But though it might seem that God's judgments are delayed, Moses warned the Israelites, "Be sure your sins will find you out" (Numbers 32:23). He told them in his farewell address, as well as on other occasions, of the curses which were sure to overtake those who turned away from Jehovah.

We have impressive illustrations of this negative providence pertaining to the externals here and now. Consider, for example, the fall of Jerusalem. Christ was crucified and nothing happened--then. Later, in the lifetime of the same generation, the city was besieged, and civil war, famine, butchery, and indescribable suffering took place. Mothers devoured their own children as the wrath of God came upon the city that crucified His Son.

Nor are visitations of wrath only in the form of military woes and desolations. Roger Babson once made an investigation of bankruptcies in the United States during a certain number of years. Some of these business collapses were traceable to a lack of competence, but only a few. The majority were owing to a lack of integrity and honesty.

The eminent historian of the American scene, Charles Beard, said that one of the lessons he learned from his studies was that the mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind exceedingly fine. Still another scholar said in a class that if he were intimately familiar with the condition of a community, he could predict its downfall within a hundred years. Then he revised that statement, claiming that he could predict the downfall within the space of ten years.

Not only do the scholars recognize the temporal judgments which come on mankind, and the brimstone which is scattered over all the possessions of wicked men, but even the man on the street knows it and even jokes about it sometimes. For example, I used to go bowling with my church people one night a week. Occasionally I would bowl the ball in the corner properly and it would move over to center as it ought and a strike appeared certain. I would start to walk back to the bench. But, alas, all the pins would not fall down--the two farthest apart still stood! My men should have said, "You were robbed, pastor," or, "You should have had a strike, pastor," or even, "Too bad, pastor." Instead they said, "You don't live right, pastor."

The second form of negative providence is internal. "Your sins will find you out," Moses said. However, not all visitation is upon the bodies of sinners; it comes upon their souls also. God may wait to pour out wrath upon the external world until the cup of iniquity is full, but apparently He pours out this invisible cup on the soul as soon as it sins. He may seem to slumber as He delays external punishment, but not so in the administration of internal suffering. A person may sin and retribution upon his body not be forthcoming, but his conscience is immediately afflicted. He may, indeed, get away with it, but he never gets away from it. "The wicked flee when no man pursueth," that is, their consciences are alarmed when there is no outward apprehension. "God is angry with the wicked every day" (Psalm 7:11). That is, though the wicked prosper outwardly as the green bay tree, they are inwardly blighted. The wicked are as the surging of the sea (Isaiah 57:20). That is, however tranquil his situation may appear to be, he has no true peace within. John Calvin says the sinner sometimes has tranquillity because he is too "thick" to understand the judgment of God against him. But he is not tranquil about his tranquillity. That is, he is disturbed about his peace of mind. There is no rest for the wicked even when they are resting because they still vaguely and apprehensively wonder whether they should rest, whether all is well with their soul.

*****

This is part five of John H. Gerstner's small book entitled Theology for Everyman, originally published in 1965 (Moody Press, Chicago). That book was subsequently republished by Soli Deo Gloria in 1991. It has since fallen out of print and we thought it would be good to revisit this book here on the blog. Over the next couple of months, we'll work our way through the book. You can read Chapter 1, "Everyone Must Be a Theologian," beginning here. Chapter two began here.

• In the work of evangelism, whether in preaching or personal witnessing, is it Scriptural to tell the lost that "God loves them" and "that He died for their sins?"  (@ 03:45)
  
• Why do Presbyterian churches not have altar calls?  (@ 08:55)
  
• If Scripture alone is our final authority, then what do we do with all the conflicting interpretations especially on the larger matters of salvation and justification? Do we accept the authority of the church when it comes to the authority of Scripture?  (@ 11:35)
  
• If no one the Father gives to the Son is lost, why and was Judas lost?  (@ 13:52)
• How is the Protestant notion of sola fide, faith alone, consistent with James 2:24, which says, "You see that a person is justified by what he does and not by faith alone?"  (@ 15:35)
• Why did Jesus descend into hell before He rose to the right hand of the Father?  (@ 20:00)
• Who raised Jesus after His crucifixion? God or Christ Himself? And does it make a difference?  (@ 23:00)

by John H. Gerstner

According to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, "God's works of providence are His most holy, wise, powerful preserving and governing all His creatures and all their actions." This comprehensive statement says that God's providence encompasses all, and not merely some, of the acts of His creatures. Such a definition would include big events and trifles as well--good things, but also evil ones too. Does not Jeremiah teach the same doctrine? "Who is he that saith and it cometh to pass, when the Lord commandeth it not?" (Lamentations 3:37). Is Acts 15:18 any different? "Known unto God are all His works from the beginning of the world." If all His deeds are known to God from the beginning, there is nothing not known to Him. Nothing escapes His purposes, not a single hair or a falling sparrow.

Neither you nor I would be here to discuss providence if Providence had not brought us together in this fashion, if God had not done His will in the earth. How conscious we are of all the little details on which our lives to this point have turned. I do not know the trifles in your life, but I do know those in my own. Let me mention one. If a child had dropped a marble one inch more to the left, or if for some reason I had put my foot down one inch more to the right as I went down a fire escape, I would not now, perhaps, be writing about providence at all.

Not only in your life and mine, but in the lives of historic public figures the same significance of detail is apparent. A.H. Strong, in his Systematic Theology, reminds us that Mohammed's life was once suspended by a literal thread. The prophet, fleeing his enemies, hid in a cave across which a spider quickly spun a web. When his pursuers saw it, they were convinced that there was no one in the cave and went on. Mohammed was spared, and his religion today numbers more than three-hundred million adherents.

But if trifles are vital parts of divine providence, what about evil? Evil is often vastly significant. The most important event which ever occurred was, in one aspect, horrible evil. The crucifixion of Jesus, from the standpoint of the crucifiers, was grotesquely wicked. Yet, even though the killing of Christ was an atrocity itself, what event was so vital, and its effects so beneficial, as the death of Christ? If God's providence does not include evil, it does not include the most important event which ever took place.

So we say providence is a two-edged sword. It cuts both ways bringing both the good and the evil (differently, to be sure, but bringing them nonetheless). If we deny either, we deny providence. If we deny providence, we deny God. If we deny the benign, we deny the goodness of God. If we deny the evil, we deny the severity of God. The Bible denies neither, but affirms each. "Behold, therefore, the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in His goodness--otherwise thou also shalt be cut off" (Romans 11:22).

Let us consider, then, these two aspects of divine providence. But first we will examine what I will call "negative providence."

*****

This is part four of John H. Gerstner's small book entitled Theology for Everyman, originally published in 1965 (Moody Press, Chicago). That book was subsequently republished by Soli Deo Gloria in 1991. It has since fallen out of print and we thought it would be good to revisit this book here on the blog. Over the next couple of months, we'll work our way through the book. You can read Chapter 1, "Everyone Must Be a Theologian," beginning here.

Pro Ecclesia: For the Church
by George Grant

The heroine of My Fair Lady, Eliza Doolittle, captured the sentiment of most of us when she complained, "Words, words, words -- I am so sick of words. I get words all day through, first from him, now from you. Is that all you blighters can do?" She was tired of empty rhetoric -- as high sounding as it was. Instead, she wanted to see something real.

Talk is cheap. Promises are a dime a dozen. Most of us have had about all of the spin-controlled sound-bites we can stand. We've heard just about all the hollow rhetoric we can tolerate. We all know that actions speak louder than words. That is a universal truth -- no less valid in business or politics or media as in faith or family or church. Good intentions are simply not sufficient. There has to be follow-through. There has to be substance.

John the apostle admonishes us accordingly, "Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth" (1 John 3:18). In the biblical scheme of things, love is something we do, not just something we feel. Mercy is something we extend, not just something we intend. Hope is something we must act on, not just something we harbor. Our orthodoxy (right doctrine) must be matched by orthopraxy (right action). Our life together must be marked by both Word and deed.

This does not by any means minimize the primacy of the Word of God in the Christian life. It is simply a recognition that God's truth will always bear incarnational, tangible, and demonstrable fruit.

The Westminster Confession of Faith highlights this notion, asserting that the church has been entrusted with "the ministry, oracles, and ordinances of God, for the gathering and perfecting of the saints, in this life, to the end of the world" (25.3). In other words, to carry out this stewardship faithfully, the mission of the church must be organized around Word and deed -- or what Francis Schaeffer called "contents and realities."

To that end, from the earliest days of the apostolic church, congregations were purposefully structured for Word and deed ministry. Each local body was to be led by elders who were charged with the weighty task of preserving sound doctrine. They were to teach it, exhort it, nurture it, and highlight it in every aspect of congregational life -- in both its evangelism and its discipleship, from its worship to its societal presence. They were to bring the Gospel to bear in Word and deed. That fixedness in the Word was to provoke holiness, godliness, and faithfulness.

In addition to the elders though, those early fellowships were also served by deacons -- or more literally, servants. They were to translate the truth of the Word into very practical deeds. They were to make evident the beauty of human relationships transformed, reconciled, and restored by the Gospel. They were to provoke abundant evidence of true koinonia (community). At the same time, they were to ensure that covenantal relationships would show forth selfless service crafted in tenderness, empathy, excellence, intelligence, and glory.

According to Acts 6, the deacons were charged with the responsibility of coordinating, administering, and conducting the charitable generosity and stewardship of the church. It seems that because of the spectacular growth of the Jerusalem congregation, the distribution of food to the needy had gradually become uneven and inefficient. A number of the Grecian widows had been overlooked. The Twelve gathered all the disciples together and said, "It is not right that we should give up preaching the word of God to serve tables. Therefore, brothers, pick out from among you seven men of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we will appoint to this duty. But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word" (vv. 2-4). Thus, these seven men, or deacons as they would later be called, were to practically translate Word into deed. They had as their primary duty the oversight of the mercy ministry of the church. This was the essence of the diaconal function.

Throughout church history, this sort of practical-deeds ministry has been more or less faithfully carried out by men of passion, conviction, and concern -- men like William Olney and Joseph Passmore. Olney and Passmore were deacons for many years at London's Metropolitan Tabernacle during the pastorate of Charles Haddon Spurgeon. Their busy stewardship of service involved the administration of almshouses, orphanages, relief missions, training schools, retirement homes, tract societies, and colportages.

Sadly, in our congregations today this balanced Word and deed vision is, at best, a secondary notion in the functioning of the church offices. Indeed, instead of meting out the succor of compassion in ministries of service, our deacons are often called upon to spend most of their time sitting on committees and launching building drives. Instead of spending and being spent on behalf of the needy, instead of modeling Word and deed, our deacons are waxing the floors of the fellowship hall or dusting the dampers, pew by pew, "and goodness knows what other trifles," as Olney put it. Consequently, we leave our churches and our communities with the impression that the Gospel really is little more than "Words, words, words."

*****

Dr. George Grant is senior minister of Parish Presbyterian Church in Franklin, Tennessee, and director of the King's Meadow Study Center.

From Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. ©2008 Tabletalk Magazine.

Coram Deo: Living Before the Face of God
by Burk Parsons

We all certainly agree that all virtues are heavenly and that all sins are deadly. Nevertheless, certain virtues are more heavenly than others, and certain sins lead to death more quickly than other sins. While some sins are private and some sins public, the wages of every sin is death (Rom. 6:23). As Christians we understand that God hates sin and loves virtue. However, our problem is that we don't hate sin enough and that we don't love virtue enough. Consequently, we soft-peddle the deadliness of sin and we offer nice platitudes about the virtues of living a holy life. As such, many professing Christians have swapped their faith for a bumper-sticker and have chosen to live as Christians of the world but just barely in the world, mimicking the world in nearly every way, and, in some cases, leading the way. And because we desire the vain virtues the world has to offer, we have come to terms on how to play the world's game according to the world's rules. To our shame, the Enemy has fooled us into thinking that we can actually win the battle by impressing the world with our seeming successfulness. All of this is on account of the fact that the virtues of the world have become more churchy and the respectable vices of the church have become more worldly.

While the waves of compromise and the tide of worldly vice seem overwhelming to those of us standing on the shores of Christian virtue, we cannot stand as idle spectators of the raging battle; we must board our battleships and fight. This is our supreme commission as warriors of Christ, namely, to conquer all the tempting vices of the flesh, coming to the end of ourselves, laying down our arms, our gods, and all our besetting sins. We must put to death "what is earthly" and take up arms against all the deadly sins within our own hearts (Col. 3:5), for it is only then that we will be able to destroy the strongholds of the world, the flesh, and the Devil (2 Cor. 10:4). Herein is our heavenly virtue, that the Prince of Peace has put death to death in His death on the cross, nailing our deadly sins to the tree on which He was put to death so that we might be seated with Him in the heavenly places, coram Deo, before His face, forevermore in peaceful triumph (Col. 2:13-15).

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Burk Parsons is editor of Tabletalk magazine and minister of congregational life at Saint Andrew's Chapel in Sanford, Florida.

From Ligonier Ministries and R.C. Sproul. ©2008 Tabletalk Magazine.

The May edition of Tabletalk is now distributed to subscribers. This month's theme is "The Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Heavenly Virtues" and the issue includes articles written by R.C. Sproul, Thabiti Anyabwile, Robert W. Carver, Chris Donato, Ron Gleason, George Grant, Ken Jones, Jonathan Leeman, Robert S. Rayburn, Carol J. Ruvolo, R.C. Sproul Jr., and Gene Edward Veith. The daily devotions continue our study of the book of Matthew.

As we did last month with April's edition of Tabletalk, we will post some of these articles here on the blog through the month. But for now, here are links to selected columns from the May edition:

Coram Deo: Living Before the Face of God: War and Peace, by Burk Parsons

Right Now Counts Forever: Cosmic Treason, by R.C. Sproul

Pastor's Perspective: Pride & Humility, by Robert S. Rayburn

Pro Ecclesia: For the Church: The High Call of Service, by George Grant

Generation to Generation: To the Young Pastor, by Ron Gleason

Tolle Lege: Take Up and Read: The Great Exchange, by Keith A. Mathison

Seek Ye First: At Least I'm Honest, by R.C. Sproul Jr.

Truth and Consequences: Dante on Virtue and Vice, by Gene Edward Veith

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