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The Spirit of Early Christian Thought

TSOECTThe Christian faith is an intellectual one at its core. From God’s formation of an old covenant nation to His creation of a new covenant church one command claims to be the greatest of all: “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Matt. 22:37 emphasis added; cf. Deut. 6:5). With such unrelenting clarity weaving its way throughout redemptive history it ought not surprise us to find a thriving intellectual life permeated the early Christian church.

In The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God Robert Louis Wilken, Emeritus William R. Kenan, Jr. Professor of the History of Christianity at the University of Virginia, recounts the intellectual heart of early Christianity. “It is the purpose of this book,” Wilken says, “to depict the pattern of Christian thinking as it took shape in the formative centuries of the church’s history.” Wilken believes “the study of early Christian thought has been too preoccupied with ideas.” Therefore, rather than assessing the development of Christian ideas (the work of historical theology) Wilken unfolds how exactly Christians “thought about the things they believed.”

In the nineteenth century Adolph von Harnack’s proposes that early Christian thinking was little more than a hellenization of Christianity. Wilken says this thesis “has outlived its usefulness” and a better expression of early Christian thought would be the “Christianization of Hellenism.” The work of early Christianity was thus not one of developing a culture-shaped truth, but one aiming at a truth-shaped culture. This intellectual labor, Wilken asserts, is one ultimately aimed at seeking the face of God (Ps. 105:4)—a passage Wilken believes best “captures the spirit of early Christian thinking.”

Summary

The book’s short compass—just over three hundred pages—means Wilken has limited space to set forth “the things Christians cared most about.” He thus selects representative figures for each theme on which he concentrates. Although he pulls from numerous influential patristic figures, four tower above all others in his work: Origen in the third century, Gregory of Nyssa in the fourth, Augustine in the fifth, and Maximus the Confessor in the seventh. According to Wilken “these four stand out as the most rewarding, the most profound, and the most enduring.”

The book consists of twelve chapters, which can be grouped into five sections.

The Foundations (1-3)

The first three chapters set the course for all that follows by focusing on Christianity’s foundations: how God is revealed through the death of His son (ch. 1), how God is worshipped in the liturgy, prayers, and sacraments (ch. 2), and how God has—astonishingly—spoken to His people through His word (ch. 3).

The Teachings (4-6)

Wilken builds on these foundations in the next three chapters by considering the forging of a Trinitarian doctrine (ch. 4), the depicting of Christ’s word—particularly Maximus the Confessor’s elucidation of Christ’s agony (ch. 5), and the creation of human beings as participants in the life and knowledge of their Creator (ch. 6).

The Believer (7-8)

With those foundational teachings in place Wilken moves on to two chapters addresses the life of the believer. Channeling Augustine in both chapters Wilken first argues that God is only known in faith and love (ch. 7). Secondly, he comments on the role of the church in a just society and that “life directed toward God is always social” (ch. 8).

The Stuff (9-10)

The early church was one in which intellectual engagement led to tangible realities in the church’s life. Wilken brilliantly informs us of “a significant new development in Christian intellectual life”: poetry (ch. 9). The poetry of Prudentius gives a glimpse also into the burgeoning power of hymnody in the church. The physical matter of icons is Wilken takes up next, arguing for a robust understanding of the relationship between material and spiritual realities (ch. 10).

The Goal (11-12)

Keen to show how “the Christian intellectual tradition is an exercise in thinking about the God who is known and seeking the One who is loved,” Wilken rounds down his discourse with a focus on living holiness. The goal of the Christian life was to be like Christ, a likeness revealed through biblical virtues such as patience and humility (ch. 11). The moral life of Christianity grows out of its spiritual life, a life of holy passion and affections—in other words, a life of love (ch. 12).

Evaluation

Wilken believes the “energy, the vitality, the imaginative power of Christian thought stems from within, from the person of Christ, the Bible, Christian worship, the life of the church.” It must be said that Wilken’s pen proves to be a worthy vessel for his thesis. Joseph Mueller makes a similar point when he concludes, “Some of the attractiveness of [Wilken’s] demonstration comes from the complete fit between his style and that of early Christian thought.” Energetic, imaginative, and powerful prose flows on every page. One can easily get caught up in the sweeping, moving cadence of his instruction. Wilken’s literary skill alone makes The Spirit of Early Christian Thought a valuable contribution. If only all scholarly work could be so well written. Yet, scholarly works do not rise and fall on their literary merits, they do so on proving their point(s). Thus, we must ask, “Does Wilken effectively prove the early Christian intellectual tradition is best expressed as the Christianization of Hellenism? Did the early church thinkers ultimately direct their work toward seeking the face of God?” The one word answer to each question is the same: “Largely.”

Wilken’s labor is both helped and harmed by unvarnished sympathy for his subjects. Angela Russell Christman, in her review of the same book, says, “The subject of this book . . . Wilken portrays so . . . sympathetically for his readers.” Wilken even seems to acknowledge this sympathy when he says, “One of the most distinctive features of Christian intellectual life is a kind of quiet confidence in the faithfulness and integrity of those who have gone before.” This quiet confidence is helpful in so far as it allows Wilken to warmly invite readers to sit at the feet of and glean from spiritual giants of a previous era. Yet, it gets in the way of substantive critical interaction with the tradition itself. Wilken’s portrayal can wade into the always-treacherous waters of hagiography. This point is well made by John Morrison who, writing in The Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society, says, “The Fathers . . . are made to be wholly charming in life and thought; the warts are all but gone. The few that remain are turned into beauty marks.” Furthermore, “Wilken is . . . [presenting] unapologetically the very best face of early Christianity.”

This is why I answer the question of whether or not Wilken achieves his aims as, “Largely.” Did the Christian intellectual tradition forcefully influence the Hellenized world? No doubt. Yet, the street moves both ways. Did not prevailing philosophies of the day influence creedal and confessional statements in the early church? Absolutely. Did the early Christian intellectuals seek the face of God? Many did. But, as Morrison remarks, “Wilken also quickly excuses, defends, or gives fresh ‘spin’ to the wrongs or misdirections of the Fathers.”

Wilken is able to prove his thesis by choosing the shining stars of the tradition, but shining starts they all were not.

Conclusion

While Wilken’s work might be better served to come from a sympathetically critical pen, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought is still a magnificent achievement. Wilken’s synthesis is compelling and convicting; it will lead many to greater historical awareness and present earnestness in seeking the face of God.

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Don’t Skip Over the Cross

“When we assume that God only wills healing and joy rather than suffering in our lives now, we have forgotten the cross of Christ. When we act as if life with the resurrected Christ should be just one victory upon another, we have forgotten the cross of Christ. For while the death of Christ was a once for all sacrifice, ambassadors of the gospel do not skip over the cross to experience “resurrection living.” – Todd Billing, Rejoicing in Lament, 127.

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A Conversation on Worship

Last spring Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary hosted a casual conversation on the topic of worship with Bruce Little, Andy Davis, and Daniel Renstrom.

Listen here or watch below.

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In Memory

Wake Up

For Don

Over the last two years I’ve counted it a supreme privilege to know Don Phillips as his pastor, friend, and brother in Christ. To know Don was to know a man who could inject joy and laughter into any situation with effortless ease. It was to know a man so filled with a welcoming spirit that after just a few conversations you’d feel as though he was a life-long friend. It was to know a man passionate about his wife, children, grandchildren, and the happiness of games like golf. Yet, I stand here today to say that over and above all those things, to know Don was to know a soul changed by the Lord Jesus Christ.

What I want to think about with you is exactly how that change came about in Don’s life.

An Amazing Awakening

One of Don’s favorite hymns was “Amazing Grace.” As many of you know, that first verse says, “Amazing grace how sweet the sound / that saved a wretch like me.” If you saw Don sing those lines you would have likely seen him beating his fist on his heart in that moment. It was as though he was preaching to himself, “Oh, my soul don’t forget this. That you were a wretch saved by amazing grace.” What I want you to see today is a truth Don showed with his life—that God’s amazing grace is always awakening grace.

As we just heard in the song a few minutes ago, a great anthem in Don’s life was, “Wake Up.” It’s no mere theme derived from pop culture, it is an anthem Scripture shouts forth with fervency and mercy. One place in particular that comes to mind is Ephesians 5:14 which says,

“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”

I see in this text two truths about God’s awakening, truths in which Don Phillips lived with great delight.

Awakening grace is sovereign grace. Earlier in Ephesians 2 the apostle Paul said we are all dead in trespasses and sins, by nature we are children of wrath. “But God being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.” Spiritually dead people can’t breathe life into themselves. Spiritually dead people don’t even know they are lost. Such deadness is only overcome by a sovereign God who cries out in love and mercy, “Wake up, O sleeper and arise from the dead.”

Do you know how God woke Don up? It all started when a telemarketing evangelist from Campus Crusade for Christ called his house during a football game. Don said, “Leave me alone, I don’t believe in God anyway.” Don told me it was as though God said to him in that moment, “I won’t let you got that far son.” And so God woke him up—through telemarketing evangelism! Awakening grace is sovereign grace.

Awakening grace is satisfying grace. “Awake, O sleeper, and Christ will shine on you.” In the sweep of Ephesians 5 we find that the light of Christ is a light more satisfying than anything sin and this world can offer. In Ephesians 3 Paul says there are unsearchable riches to be found in the shining, awakening grace of Christ. Don knew what the world had to offer, for years he tasted of its finest feast. And when Christ shined on him he found a satisfaction in Jesus infinitely superior to anything this world or sin has. And he fought—oh, how he fought hard!—to be satisfied in Christ alone.

Just two months ago, at our church’s monthly men’s gathering, Don spoke of this fight for joy in Jesus with his typical passion and boldness. If you looked close enough in that moment what you saw in his eye was the joy of God’s sovereign and satisfying grace. God woke Don up, only by His sovereign grace, so that Don might enjoy His supremely satisfying grace.

Blunt Tenderness

There’s another reason why I find Ephesians 5:14 emblematic of Don Phillips: it’s blunt in its tenderness. “You who are dead, wake up and behold the glory of Christ!” Don was nothing if not blunt. But as you well know, there was such tenderness in his bluntness. He longed to be, and I think he was, an ambassador of Christ who went about each week with blunt tenderness, calling people to “wake up!” Are you dead in sin? Don’s life calls forth God’s word to you, “Wake up and rise from the dead.” Is there somewhere in your life where you are feeling dead spiritually? Don’s life cries out, “Wake up o sleeper, and the light of Christ will shine on you.”

Finally Alive and Free

I find in in this text unusual comfort for those of us who mourn the loss of our dear brother, and it’s this: Don is now staring at the everlasting, shining glory of God in the face of Christ. He is finally and perfectly alive to Christ. He fought the good fight and finished his race, all the while keeping his faith. Seeing the Lord Jesus is his prize.

There is a verse of “Amazing Grace” that goes unsung by many, but we can rest assured this day it is a song of truth for our brother:

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

So let us mourn with hope, let us grieve with faith, for he is has sailed behind the veil of heaven, to endless joy and peace. He is finally, perfectly awake in God’s heavenly presence.

To our God be the glory forever and ever, amen.

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Come Out!

Easter '15 Podcast

In John 11:25-26 Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

Believe His Word

This is fifth of the “I am” statements in John and is stunning. Jesus is saying, “I don’t just teach the resurrection, I am the resurrection. I don’t just believe in God’s power for life, I am God’s power for life. Don’t just believe it, believe in me.” Do you believe this? Do you believe Jesus’ word about Himself? We must remember that true faith is not mere trust in information and facts about Jesus. Rather, it’s belief in Him, in the one in whom all truth resides.

Martha says she believes in 11:27 and soon here sister Mary comes to where Jesus is, weeping, and essentially says the same thing as Martha, maybe with more tenders, but it’s still a subtle questioning of Christ’s love. She says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary is essentially asking the question we so desperately want to ask any time we lose a loved one, “Why didn’t you stop it?”

Oh, how we must pay attention to what Jesus does next.

Look at 11:33, “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.” English translations of Jesus’ emotional state at this moment are notoriously bad. A more accurate translation is, “Jesus was irate.” It was a phrase often used in extra-biblical literature of a warhorse snorting. Jesus was visibly and audibly irate, but irate at what? I’ve heard most people say—preachers and commentators alike—that Jesus is angry at the great enemy of death. But I’m not so sure. The rest of the text highlights just how easily Jesus could have stopped death if He wanted to. What then brings about His indignant displeasure? I think it’s the subtle (Martha and Mary) questioning of his love and not so subtle questioning of his power in 11:37. There the crowd wonders aloud, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?”

This irate Savior asks to see the tomb and when He arrives 11:35, the shortest verse in all the Bible says, “Jesus wept.” There is a force in the Greek that means Jesus erupted into tears. As tears of anguish fall down his face, the time has now come for them to see His work.

See His Work

We need not tarry long or complicate the matter here. Jesus says, “Take away the stone,” and Martha, ever the pragmatist, is horrified in 11:39 saying, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” Look at Jesus response in 11:40, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” In the kingdom of Christ believing leads to seeing; not the other way around. Is there anywhere you might not be believing in Jesus because you are not seeing it from Jesus?

Now, you must picture the crowds around Jesus at this moment. They are not expecting anything particularly unusual to happen. They believe Jesus is mourning before the tomb, just like they are. It’s why Martha thinks it unnecessary for the tomb to be open and undignified stink to arise. But Jesus has different, unexpected plan.

The stone is moved and look at His prayer in 11:41-42, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” Then with a loud voice he cried, “Lazarus, come out.” One old author said Jesus had to say the name Lazarus lest every person in the grave come out—such is the Lord’s power.

What a scene this must have been! The dead man walks out, covered in burial clothes, and Jesus commands in 11:44, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

If you are not a Christian, you will never find a better portrait of the life Jesus alone can give. The Bible says you are dead in your sin, rags of unbelief ensnare you and garments of sin cover you. There is nothing you can do to make yourself alive. But God makes dead sinners alive when they believe in Jesus. He died in the place of sinners, rose again, and so holds the keys to death and hell. He calls from this text to you saying, “Come out! Turn from your sin and trust in me. And I will loose you from the binds of sin and set you free.” Will you trust His wisdom? Believe His word? And see His work?

This post is adapted from my recent sermon, “The Dead Will Walk Again,” on John 11:1-44.

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Recent Reads

I love to read. I find it helpful to summarize my thoughts on each book and I offer those thoughts in the hope that you will be encouraged to either read or pass over the given title.

MGMeditation and Communion with God: Contemplating Scripture in an Age of Distraction by John Jefferson Davis. Davis’ aim in Meditation and Communion with God is laudable: restore biblical meditation to a healthy place in the Christian life. To do that he sets out to prove how meditation on God’s word—in faith—is nothing less than real communion with the triune God. His theological proof rests on the nature of our God as Trinity, the reality of inaugurated eschatology, and the vitality of our union with Christ. I find his arguments winsome and unassailable in their biblical foundation. Readers looking for a rich theological meditation for contemplating Scripture would be wise to turn to Davis’ book. Beware, however; this is not breezy reed. It’s full of philosophical and scientific discourses and has, somewhat surprisingly, only one chapter on the actual practice of meditating on God’s word.

20453424George Müller of Bristol and His Witness to a Prayer-Hearing God by Arthur Pierson. A prominent pulpiteer in the 19th century, a trailblazer in the Scofield Bible, and successor to Spurgeon at The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Arthur Pierson was also a friend of George Müller. Published in 1899 this book recounts the life of Müller, with particular attention to his life of prayer. And what a life it was! Müller is rightly remembered as a giant of prayer. Prayer consumed his life and was his delight. Pierson says, “If a consecrated human life is an example used by God to teach us the philosophy of holy living, then this man was meant to show us how prayer, offered in simple faith, has power with God.” It’s always challenging to one’s own prayer life to read about Müller’s, and this book stirred me afresh. There were also some fascinating vignettes Pierson offered, such as how Müller turned him from postmillenialism to dispensational premillenialism.

OMOpen Mind, Open Heart by Thomas Keating. An influential tome in the realm of “contemplative prayer,” Open Mind, Open Heart is Father Keating’s most popular and accessible book on Centering Prayer. What is “centering prayer?” Keating answers, “Centering prayer is awakening to the gift of contemplation.” Essentially, it is a technique of letting go of one’s thoughts, emotions, and inhibitions in order to experience “interior transformation” and “divine union” with God. It’s all very mystical and spiritual, but in the end it sure seems like little more than a Catholic version of transcendental meditation. Unless you have to read this book for a doctoral seminar on “20th Century Spirituality” you really ought not bother with this one.

WSWayfaring Stranger by James Lee Burke. When I see a publisher announce a story “connecting a fateful encounter with Bonnie and Clyde to heroic acts at the Battle of the Bulge and finally to the high-stakes gambles and cutthroat players who ushered in the dawn of the American oil industry,” I’m immediately hooked. Especially when the great James Lee Burke is the one doing the telling. The narrative is moving, the tension is tight, the history is fascinating, and the setting is grand. Burke’s sense of place is masterful and his prose often majestic. This is a Novel as Big as Texas—and I loved every bit of it.

TGOTTThe Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. Every so often I hear about some debut work of fiction storming up the best-seller lists, generating much conversation, and can’t resist putting my literary feet into the water. The Girl on the Train is smash hit strikingly familiar in style to Flynn’s Gone Girl, but one that still manages to stand on its own merits. The plot line is quite dour on the whole, but oh my! does Hawkins grip and enthrall. She grabs your attention from the start and relentlessly advances her tale with surprises at every turn. Like many immediate hits, some will loathe The Girl on the Train and others will devour it. I found myself absorbed for two late night readings; does that qualify as devouring?

Click here to find other entries in the Recent Reads series.

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Thoughts on Meditation on Communion with God

MCGSome guided thoughts on John Jefferson Davis’ excellent book Meditation and Communion with God: Contemplating Scripture in an Age of Distraction.

What is Davis’ thesis in The Puritan Practice of Meditation?

Davis states, “The central thesis of this book is that a believing, prayerful, and receptive reading of Scripture is an act of communion with the triune God, who is really present to the reader through and with the biblical text” (34). He wants the reader to understand “the nature and practice of biblical meditation as communion with God who is really present to the reader—based on a biblical and theological framework focusing on the doctrines of union with Christ and inaugurated eschatology” (8).

What are three places in the book where you believe Davis is most biblically profound, and why do you think so?

I appreciated Davis’ discussion of the understanding the Holy Spirit’s ministry in the inaugurated eschaton as “ordinary supernatural.” Pulling from Acts 1:2 and John 20:22-23 Davis says, “God still acts in the extraordinary supernatural in the church, but the key to a healthy church and Christian life is to operate consistently in the ordinary supernatural, in conscious dependence on the Holy Spirit, as we preach, meditate on Scripture and do the work of ministry generally (39). The temptation for many Christians and churches is to reduce the Spirit’s ministry into one of extraordinary actions and gifts, missing that the New Testament clearly indicated His regular ministry is one of ordinary—yet no less supernatural—work.

Secondly, I loved Davis’ focus on our triune God, particularly that “salvation in the fuller and more biblical sense is sharing in the ever deepening measure in the life of the triune God: participating in and enjoying, by and in the Holy Spirit, Jesus’ joyous experience of His Father’s love” (54). What a wonderful reminder when tied to biblical meditation! By meditating on Scripture we are able to enter into “this experience and trinitarian fellowship even now, in this life, in anticipation of an even deeper experience in the life to come” (55).

Finally, I found his belief that inaugurated eschatology demands an inaugurated epistemology immensely helpful. Cutting through empiricism on one end and rationalism on the other, David advocates for “a logopneumatic (Word and spirit) theory of knowledge that has it’s origins in [Paul’s] encounter with the risen Christ on the Damascus road and his own personal reception of the Spirit (Acts 9:17-18).” This is a compelling New Covenant epistemology; one of Word and spirit, a knowledge tethered to truth and senses. It’s quite common to pit Word against spirit, and vice-versa, but the biblical witness is one of a redeemed intellect governed by God’s word and spirit.

Are there any places in the book where you differ from Davis’ understanding of the biblical text or of the positions he advocates? If so, discuss your differences with Davis.

Davis is thoroughly biblical—and historical— in his understanding of the why and how of meditation. His discussion of inaugurated eschatology, the Trinity, and union with Christ are spot on and thus I didn’t have any significant disagreement with his thesis.

What does this book have to say about the relationship between reading the Bible and meditating on it?

Meditation and Communion with God calls for a meditative approach to reading God’s word. If reading Scripture, in faith, is nothing less than communion with the triune God, why would we not linger and meditate on it? Davis writes, “The historic practice of meditating on Scripture is, of course, just an example of ‘slow reading’” (24).

In what ways is this book about personal meditation on Scripture and in what ways is it about the public ministry of the Word?

Davis says personal meditation enables a deeper enjoyment of the preached Word (cf. 38), but this book is overwhelmingly about personal meditation. He says, “Those of us who are professional Christians—pastors, priests, seminarians, youth ministers, teachers, academics—often have other agendas as we approach the biblical text: sermons to preach, lessons to be taught, talks to be given, papers to be written” (127). We need to reorient our lives to come to God’s word with “no real agenda other than to be in Christ’s presence and to enjoy being in Christ’s presence.”

He also says, “[T]he practice of biblical meditation can be . . . especially vital for pastors . . . who constantly face the challenges of stress, burnout, and spiritual dryness in the midst of the demands of ministry” (8).

What part of this book is most needful in your ministry context? Explain why this is so and what specific steps would be necessary for this part of the book to become a reality there.

Davis knows well the rush and fuss of modern culture. He says, “In the face of today’s rushed lives and information overload, [biblical meditation] seems more important than ever.” He wisely doesn’t throw out all uses of technology, but a “reflective and intentional use of them, and a slower, more contemplative reading of Scripture” (24).

Ministry in the suburbs of Dallas is one of shepherding souls tempting to join the rat race of technological consumption. Such consumption directly impedes our ability to meditatively consume God’s word. How then can we shepherd the church to slow, edifying reflection on Scripture? First of all, we must effectively show—like Davis does in the book—that feasting on God’s word is real communion with God. From there, we can continue to model in our weekly liturgy what it looks like to feast together on God’s word as we read it, sing it, pray it, hear from it, and see it (the Lord’s Supper). The aim is to raise holy affections for communion with God that in turn decrease lowly affections for the triflings of this world.

How would you use this book differently in an academic setting as opposed to your ministry context?

In my church context I would use this book to give church members deeply constructed theological foundation for the practice of meditation. In an academic setting where matters of inaugurated eschatology, the Trinity, and union with Christ are—hopefully—richly taught, Meditation and Communion with God would be a wonderful example of how such doctrine can live in our soul; namely, through biblical meditation.

What do you think is missing from this book on Meditation and Communion with God?

Meditation and Communion with God clearly lacks a corporate dimension. What role does meditation have in the gathered congregation? Does it even have a role? Readers are left to make their own corporate applications. Davis would do well, in a second edition, to think more broadly about the implications of biblical meditation for Christ’s church.

Have you read anything more helpful on the matters addressed in Meditation and Communion with God? If so, what was it and why was it more helpful?

For the theology realities undergirding biblical meditation, this is the best book I’ve ever read.

What impact has this book had on your personal intake of Scripture or in your ministry of the Word?

The immediate impact was on my sermon preparation. I find myself tempted each week to rush through the given text and get right to constructing the sermon. Such a practice doesn’t fatten my soul in joy or prepare my heart to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ found in the text. Meditation and Communion with God reoriented my sermon prep process to starting each week with a slower, reflective read on the text. Once a fullness of meaning and life comes from the text, then I’m able to more effectively work on the sermon.

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Update on 2015 Endeavors

2015 Endeavors

I begin each year with something I call “Endeavors”; just think of them as spiritual goals for the year. To this point in my life I’ve rarely changed the Endeavors that kicked off each year. It’s probably because I feel duty bound, come hell or high water, to complete the individual Endeavor—and I recognize how silly such enslaved devotion is. Well, 2015 may be the year I broke free of dutiful silliness.

My 2015 Endeavors were essentially three:

  1. Memorize the books of 1 John and 2 Timothy.
  2. Read all four volumes of Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics.
  3. Integrate regular fasting into my life and ministry.

I’ve adjusted #1, scrapped #2, and kept #3 in tact. Here’s an update on what’s been happening with each one.

Adjusted 2015 Endeavors

#1 – I endeavor to memorize the books of 1 John Philippians and 2 Timothy. In January we began a sermon series through 1 John at IDC and I planned to simply memorize the book along the way. I kept at it through chapter two and then I just lost steam. Maybe John’s repetitive nature led me to feel I was memorizing the same truth in just a different place or maybe it’s my love for more linear epistolary argument. Whatever it is, I shut down 1 John in late February and made a pivot to Philippians. We are slated to begin a sermon series through Paul’s letter of joy in the fall and memorizing the book now I trust will bring power to my future sermon prep. I hope to have Philippians complete by the end of August and then use the last few months of the year to write 2 Timothy upon my heart.

#2 – I endeavor to read Herman Bavinck’s four-volume Reformed Dogmatics. I made it through volume one of RD and then the syllabuses for PhD seminars arrived—syllabuses telling me I had 37 books to read by mid-May. For a while I kept plugging away at RD, but eventually I found myself obligatorily rushing through each day’s reading of the Dutchman in order to get to the PhD books. And let’s be honest, Bavinck deserves better than forced friendship. So Bavinck’s magnum opus took its venerable place back on the shelf in my study. Maybe I’ll get to him in 2019.

#3 – I endeavor to integrate regular fasting into my life and ministry. An old mentor of mine once said, “Fasting is overrated.” Fasting has been an afterthought in my spiritual life ever since. Yet, a great cloud of fasting witness cried out to me in 2014. I seemed to read many old saints expressing a delight in and devotion to fasting that was utterly compelling. Also helped along the way by Piper’s A Hunger for God, I began to rethink my old conviction and set out to walk more faithfully in the discipline of fasting this year.

Currently, I fast from breakfast and lunch every Saturday. As I discerned how best to go about consistent fasting I felt forgoing first two meals each Saturday might be unusually challenging to my soul. You see, our church meets at 5pm on Saturdays. Therefore, I routinely preach on an empty stomach. But oh my, how full my heart is! Fasting on Saturdays has led to more urgent pleas for God to glorify Himself in our church, and I hope, a growing humility in my preaching. Preaching hungry means preaching in weakness; it means preaching in His strength. I’ve realized these last few months how prone I am to trust in my own power instead of God’s power. The weakness which attends fasting calls me to trust ever more on the Spirit for success at the sacred desk. It’s a lesson I should have learned by now, but I evidently haven’t. And so the weakness of fasting is a feeling I love more and more with each passing week. It’s helping me taste the glory of Christ in new ways.

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Joy in Meditation

“If enjoying God and being in the presence of God is the highest purpose for which I exist, then worship and biblical meditation are not low priorities but high priorities; they are worthy of my best time, energy and focused attention. Keeping this highest purpose of human existence—joyful communion with God—clearly in mind should be an excellent motivator to our meditative practice.” – John Jefferson Davis, Meditation and Communion with God, 87.