The Blog of Toby J Sumpter
“The word ‘catechism’ derives from the Greek word katecheo which is found in several places in Scripture. The most familiar is Luke 1:4, where Luke explains why he wrote his Gospel: ‘that you may know the certainty of those things in which you were instructed [catechichized].’ Like many Greek words katecheo is put together from two words, in this case kata, meaning ‘down toward,’ and echeo, meaning ‘to sound.’ Katecheo is ‘sound down.’”
-Donald Van Dyken, Rediscovering Catechism, 12-13.
Introduction
In the beginning God created a sanctuary; He created the universe and blessed it. And on the seventh day, He rested from His work named it holy. His work was completed, His work was to be enjoyed, and His work was to be shared.
The Text:
We can divide the song into three parts: First, celebrating the immediate deliverance (15:1-10), second, celebrating Yahweh’s superiority and the people’s identification with Him (15:11-13), and finally, the broader impact of this victory in the world (15:14-18). This song should be seen as the continuation of the Exodus. Yahweh has come to make Himself known, and in doing so, make Himself present in and with His people for the world. Holiness is completion and communion, and God comes to bring His holiness to Israel (Ex. 3:5, 12:16, 13:2, cf. Lev. 20:7-8). This is referenced later as the reason why Israel must be holy: Yahweh brought them out of Egypt (e.g. Lev. 11:44-45). The Exodus is a display of Yahweh’s holiness. His holiness is His free determination to bring creation to fulfillment and to share its glory. This is why Israel rejoices in Yahweh’s glorious “holiness” in the Exodus, having done “wonders” – great and marvelous works (15:11, cf. 3:20, Gen. 18:14). This song stands as part of that display and accomplishment of Yahweh’s holiness, and this fits with the creation sequence in the text (Ex. 14:19-14:31). This song is the “Sabbath” of a new creation, the remaking of Israel as a new Adam to be enthroned with God in his “holy habitation” (15:13). Miriam and the other women are a new Eve, like Deborah, Hannah, and Mary, and types of the bride of Christ. But even this mini-Sabbath looks forward to a firm dwelling, a “holy place” which is established forever (15:17-18). The entire song celebrates Yahweh’s military victory over His enemies: He is a man of war (15:3), and His right hand has done mighty things (15:6). But His Wind-Spirit, the battle-storm of His presence wields violence with a surgeon’s creative wisdom. Yahweh’s mighty arm will continue this conquest by making the surrounding nations silent like a “stone” like the Egyptians (15:16, 15:5). But one of the central ways that God’s arm will continue this battle is through this song. The song extends the Exodus by repeating the story, repeating the gospel of Yahweh’s victory so that their enemies will hear and be afraid (e.g. Josh. 2:9-14).
Dead People Don’t Sing
The Song at the Sea is a striking reminder that praise and worship and song is what always bursts out of people who have been rescued and remade. When a body is resuscitated, it suddenly starts breathing, and when people are brought back to life, they suddenly start singing. It is far too easy to make fun of the enthusiasm of some of our charismatic brothers, but frequently this is merely a cover for our own lack of faith (14:31). Has God saved you? Has God triumphed over your enemies? Then how can you not sing? This is why our worship is so full of song, this is why our choir plays an important role in leading us in song, and this is why our homes should be full of singing and music and praise. When people know that the Lord is a man of war, nothing can keep them from singing. This means singing loud, this means singing with joy, and this means that choir directors should never have to go recruiting. Love always bursts out in song and dance and praise, and it begins here and spills out into the world. This is the Song of the Lamb, our war song, and with it we bring the justice of God to the world (Rev. 15).
College Crunch ranks the top 20 Christian college professors. Not sure what all the criteria were for this. But still interesting to see who is considered particularly influential and important in the academic world.
Ben Carson, Robert P. George, Alister McGrath, Al Mohler, Alvin Plantinga, Marilynne Robinson, and N.T. Wright make the list.
You can find the entire post here.
Douglas Wilson adds this bit to a recent flurry of blog posts and articles:
“For many among the contemporary Reformed, a legalist is someone who loves Jesus more than they do, and an antinomian is one who appears to enjoy loving Jesus like that. And if this ever happens on a large scale, it will be a great revival and reformation, recognized as such by the museum curators of the future.”
There a couple of layers of cheerful irony there as you can see for yourself if you read the rest of the post here.
“By reclaiming Luther’s grand discovery of justification by faith, Christians again embrace the law with David, Paul, and James. The law leads to Christ, plainly outlines the extent of Christ’s payment, defines his righteousness, protects believers from sinning against God’s love, and enables them to give concrete expression to their love for God by deeds of obedience.”
Donald Van Dyken, Rediscovering Catechism, 6.
“… if we must go through what seems the worst of times, we are held in the best of all hands, inseparable from the best of all loves (Rom. 8:38-39)”
Donald Van Dyken, Rediscovering Catechism, 2.
All the days of creation are concerned with the creation of matter in various states: light, land, plants, animals, etc. And the days “stack” up on top of each other. The first day is the creation of light and darkness: Day and Night. And that is necessarily the beginning of the “evening and morning” cycle. But every day after the first day stacks up on top of the first day, experiencing an “evening and morning.” The rest of creation does the same. While it is not explicitly mentioned in every detail, later days assume the presence of the former days.
Waters are gathered together in one place on day 3 from the ones that were separated to form the firmament on day 2. Stars and lights are set in the firmament on day 4, and birds fly across the face of the firmament on day 5. The earth that God formed on day 3 is used for the forming of the animals and man on day 6 and so on. The days stack up.
This has implications for our understanding of time. The past penetrates into the present and the future. Time stacks up.
But what the first six days indicate is that time is a kind of space. There is “room” in a day for a certain amount of work, a certain amount of *stuff*, but God builds, plants, forms, separates, and names within the “space” of a creation day.
But then God does something radically different on the seventh day. On the seventh day God stops working, He stops creating, and He sanctifies, makes holy the seventh day because He rested from all of His work which He had created.
In one space of time, God planted a garden. In another space of time, God formed the oceans. In another space of time, God painted the birds and invented fish.
But when God stops working, the “space” is filled not with “nothing” since the nothingness has been displaced by creation. Rather, the “space” of the seventh day continues to be filled by “all His work which God had created and made.”
To sanctify that, to bless the seventh day is to pronounce a benediction on the whole week, all of the work, all of creation. In other words, for God to call the seventh day “holy” is for God to name the creation a holy place. The seventh day is a sanctuary, a space in time which extends in all directions spatially, claiming all of creation as holy space.
But this naming also extends backwards in time. In God’s blessing of the seventh day, the previous days are blessed and pronounced holy. This is true by virtue of those artifacts which persist in time — all the *stuff* that God made is still there when He blesses everything on the seventh day. But there also seems to be a sense in which sanctification, calling something/someone “holy” penetrates into the past. Events stack up on top of one another, but they are and remain permeable to holiness.
In the beginning, God created a sanctuary, a holy place: the universe.
Once while Jesus was up on the mountain with three of his disciples, being transfigured, the other disciples were down below having a hell of a time trying to deal with a stubborn demon.
When Jesus comes back down the mountain, the desparate father of the afflicted boy asks Jesus if He can help.
There are two things that are striking about this story. First, Jesus says that the root problem is unbelief and essentially rebukes everyone: the father, the disciples, etc. He calls them a “faithless generation.” And this is pretty clearly an allusion to the generation that came out of Egypt, the faithless generation that died in the desert for their lack of faith.
But the parallels go further. Jesus was up on the mountain in glory, just like Moses was up on Sinai seeing the glory of God and receiving the law. Meanwhile, down below the faithless generation was doing its thing. In Exodus, Israel (God’s son, Ex. 4:22), was making a golden calf and having a middle eastern orgy rave, complete with all the latest musical acts straight out of Egypt. In the gospels, the disciples are at the bottom of the mountain fighting a demon in another son and losing. While the externals are somewhat different, in both cases God’s people are losing to sin and the flesh. And in both cases, sin and demons are trying to kill a son. And while we might think Jesus was being a little harsh — it was a demon afterall — Jesus still locates the source of the problem in a lack of faith.
Secondly, later, when the disciples ask Jesus privately why they could not cast out the demon, Jesus frankly tells them that this was a tough demon, “This kind can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting” (Mk. 9:29).
Now, we can clarify several details quickly before turning to the struggle with porn and lust. First, not every sin is necessarily caused or inflicted by a particular demon. Sin is a force, a gravitational pull, a cancer that resides in our own human flesh in Adam, and therefore something that the Bible holds individual people responsible for. At the same time, sin is also frequently pictured as part of Satan’s prowling and devouring. And when sin afflicts people, they are both victims and victimizers. They afflict themselves and they are afflicted. There are inner and outer forces at work. And we are called to struggle against them all.
Second, we should remember that Jesus specifically commissioned the twelve to go around casting out demons (Mk. 3:15). This is not necessarily a gift or power or ministry that God has given to every believer. Every believer has the Holy Spirit and is therefore safe and protected from the attacks of sin and the evil one — no temptation has overtaken us which we are not able to resist. God does not send His faithful children into battles that they cannot win. But the fact that the disciples who were commissioned to cast out demons could not cast out this demon draws the parallel closer to common believers and their struggles. While Jesus and a chosen few are up in glory, we struggle here at the bottom of the mountain with sin, the flesh, and the devil. And Jesus’ says that these kind only come out with much prayer and fasting.
There is of course a mechanistic, superstitious way of hearing Jesus. And some nut jobs will start saying certain prayers and crossing themselves and rubbing a lucky icon while trying to free themselves of the demons of sin. Others will read books and blog articles and try support groups and accountability partners with just as much superstition as the others.
But this is the point: Frequently, these sins of porn and lust seem like they cannot be beaten, they cannot be overcome. These are frequently sins that create habits and addictions that latch on to souls with vehemence. And it is easy to grow weary in the struggle against sin, particularly when it does not appear that we are winning. But if Jesus were to appear before a crowd of people struggling with sexual sin, He would probably call them to faith: “O faithless generation…” Jesus calls us to faith. He calls us to confess our unbelief, and to come to Him, to trust Him, to believe Him. And this means throwing ourselves into the battle. This doesn’t mean putting yourself in foolish situations. If you’ve cancelled your internet, I’m not suggesting you turn it back on. The point here is to resist all temptation with all of your might, trusting that God is able and willing to deliver you.
And so the question becomes: Do you really want to be delivered? Do you really hate that sin? Do you really want to be free? Then pray. Pray like your life depends upon it. Pray like you are desperate. Cry out to God. Beg Him, plead with Him, call upon Him.
Sometimes people do everything except pray. But this is like making all your health care decisions based on what you read on the internet. You need to go to the doctor. You need to talk to the One who can make you well.
Others say they have prayed, but what they mean is that they have offered up two sentence requests having already decided to sin or having already decided that it won’t work. And of course it won’t. Because you don’t really want it. You don’t really believe.
But if you are in a battle in which if the air support does not come soon you will be dead, you will get on that radio and yell, beg, and plead for cover. You will not take no for an answer. You will not stop crying out until you have been answered. And this may sound charismatic, this may sound mystical, but every Christian needs to learn to pray until they have been heard. This doesn’t require a supernatural sign; this doesn’t necessitate a highly charged emotional outpouring — though it may include those elements. But there is praying and then there is praying. And every believer knows their Savior, and every believer knows when they are in His presence.
Fasting is something that many Christians have neglected, but Jesus says that it should be part of our prayers for deliverance and freedom. It is a weapon in our arsenal, and it should be taken up in the fight against sin.
No matter how deep your sin, no matter how addicted you think you are, no matter how enslaved you feel, begin by believing that Jesus can deliver you, and then pray for deliverance. Fast and pray. Fast and pray like you’ll die if you’re not heard. Because it’s true.
Some of these demons can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting.
You can find the previous posts in this series here, here, and here.
Jordan Ballor adds to the Bonhoeffer discussion over on the Touchstone blog this morning.
He writes:
“In response, I’ll point out that part of the academic critique is simply what academics are wont to do when looking at a popular book. There isn’t enough nuance here, this detail is wrong there, and so on. As I’ve said elsewhere, Metaxas’ biography is not a substitute for a scholarly biography like Eberhard Bethge’s. Still, it does show some surprising sensitivity for a popular biography. Metaxas rightly notes that Bonhoeffer was seeking to articulate a Protestant form of natural law in his Ethics, an aspect of Bonhoeffer’s work that has largely escaped the notice of academics. Perhaps you don’t get a modern political left/right dichotomy in scholarship all that often, but in Bonhoeffer’s case you do get a Barthian/liberal theology divide.”
You can read the rest here.
Some interesting stuff on recent scholarship on Bonhoeffer from Tim Challies.
He writes: “I’ve made no secret of the fact that I enjoyed reading Eric Metaxas’ biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Actually, it’s one of my all-time favorite biographies; it’s readable, engaging and it deals with a fascinating part of history. But lately I’ve come across a few articles by experts in Bonhoeffer who say that it’s just plain wrong—it’s a portrayal of the man that is geared toward evangelicals and, in seeking to make the reader happy, it succumbs to all sorts of errors.
Richard Weikart of California State University says that Metaxas “serves up a Bonhoeffer suited to the evangelical taste” and notes with disbelief that in “an interview with Christianity Today Metaxas even made the astonishing statement that Bonhoeffer was as orthodox theologically as the apostle Paul.”
As orthodox as Paul? Metaxas does not seem to know that in his Christology lectures in 1933 Bonhoeffer claimed, “The biblical witness is uncertain with regard to the virgin birth.” Bonhoeffer also rejected the notion of the verbal inspiration of scripture, and in a footnote to Cost of Discipleship he warned against viewing statements about Christ’s resurrection as ontological statements (i.e., statements about something that happened in real space and time). Bonhoeffer also rejected the entire enterprise of apologetics, which he thought was misguided.
You can read the rest of the post here.
