Have Babies Because It’s Dangerous

It’s a common observation by younger couples pursuing marriage or recently married. It happens often enough in the evangelical landscape to be addressed broadly. The general thesis is that this is a dangerous era to have children. The world is a crazy place with hipsters, Kamala Harris, and Harry Styles. I get the fear. I get the cultural grossness. I even get the skepticism of young parents. But let me tell you a thing or two.

Nothing is more joyful than populating the earth with children (Gen. 1:26-28). Nothing is more valuable than seeing these little arrows grow up to irritate leftists with their “Bible this” and “Bible that,” with their intrinsic sense of image-bearing dignity and intense distaste for worldliness.

Now, children can bring grief to their father and mother (Prov. 17:25), but when they seek the things of heaven, they make life a living hell to hell-bound elite parliamentarians.

This is not the most dangerous era of history to have children; this is actually the most productive age to have children. Nay, it is the most adventurous and God-honoring stage of history to have children. And to be really consistent, this is the kind of thing I would say if I were alive 100 years from now.

I would tell every newly married couple to plan wisely to have children and have them at a rate where the 1.9-average-a-year-climate-crisis-expert finds you repulsive. Greta Thunberg will probably not have kids because she thinks the world is in a crisis. She and her legacy will pass away like vapor (Eccl. 1:4), but your kids will take it from her and prove that the world’s crisis is only that which is divorced from Messiah Jesus.

This is the best season in history to have children. It is the most prominent with possibilities for the good to flourish. It is the most fruitful to build true worshipers.

Have babies. Sanctify them. And send them out to roar.

A Resurrection Theology

Francis Shaeffer observed that “what we are in our thought world determines how we act.” The Apostle Paul articulates this point well in his resurrection theology. Underneath all the dismaying problems in Corinth, there was one massive theological fallacy: they denied the resurrection of the dead. By doing so, they rejected the “importance of the world God created.” And when you deny creation’s importance and the future of a renewed creation, morality is also denied a central place in our lives. We are not moralists, but we are moral. We are called to be moral and ethical because we correctly understand our bodies and their future in creation.

We do not preach the resurrection of Jesus so that you may find your human potential or enlightened self-understanding. We preach the resurrection of Jesus so you may live resurrected lives now, avoiding the deeds of the flesh and submitting to Christ as Lord of everything.

On the other hand, we do not preach the resurrection, so you may daydream about going to heaven and drinking the pietists’ champagne. The resurrection is not declared, so you can spend more time meditating and introspecting. The resurrection is declared so you may strive for righteousness and find joy and delight in serving our Lord.

A Brief Theology of Bread

The Bible has a thoroughly developed theology of bread. Bread appears as a gift, such as Melchizedek’s gift to Abram; it shows up when Jacob deceives Esau and gives him some bread with the lentil stew. Bread is also a protagonist in the Passover Feast; it’s what fed the Israelites in the wilderness. in fact, sharing bread in the Psalms expresses close friendships. In the Book of Ruth, dipping bread in vinegar is given as a ritual that brings Boaz and Ruth together. It is a marital bonding ritual. And these are only morsels of examples.

If you were to put all that data together, you would see that the purpose of bread—whether literal or figurative– is central to the relational life of the church. In I Corinthians, Paul says that we are one loaf, which is to say we are bound together as one. And finally, in John 6, Jesus is called the true bread from heaven.

At the Lord’s Supper, we eat from one bread to fulfill this beautiful typology. God uses this theme to invite us to his Son, the bread of life. We come together today as one loaf offered to God. May God hear us and accept our bodies as living loaves in his sight.

Baptism Does Something

Baptism on Pentecost by Niels

Baptism does something. One of the tendencies of evangelical churches is to spend 98% of the time telling us what Baptism doesn’t do and the other 2% informing us what it might do.

That approach stems from fear and not biblical courage. Christians should not fear the language of the Bible. For example, we should not fear what the Bible says about the role of husbands and wives in the home, the limitations of government in politics, and the function of the church in society. Christians should never apologize for biblical language, and neither should we shy away from what it says, even if it makes other Christians uncomfortable. Yes, there are poor interpretations about Baptism, but we should build our theology based on what the Bible says and then defend it from false interpretations. I fear that pattern has been reversed for too long.

There is no new variety of covenant relationships in the New Testament; there is only continuity of signs and symbols and seals. God blessed and incorporated children into the covenant in the Old, and he has not changed his parenting style in the New. The promise is to you and your children in Genesis 17 and Acts 2.

Baptism does something.

The Bible teaches us that Baptism is a divine act. The pastor may be a mere man, but Christ’s act is ultimately authorized by Him and performed by Him. Baptism is what the Lord does to and for His people. Though this is a simple act, there is nothing simple about what this act means. This is not a mere dedication, but God Himself– Father, Son, and Spirit– embracing and claiming officially those who are his.

Suppose that at this Baptism ceremony, alone among all the baptisms that have been performed through the Christian ages, we were granted to witness Baptism in all its behind-the-scene glory. Just as the Minister was preparing to begin the act, a great tearing sound caused all to look up. The ceiling and the sanctuary roof were parted, and down through the opening descended the Lord Jesus himself. Seraphim hovered above his shoulders. The people of God were on their faces before him, but He told them to rise to their feet and to observe what he was about to do.

He brought little children and a young father near unto him and pronounced the divine Trinity over them, he made the promise of His gospel and covenant to each by name, and by name summoned them to the life of faith and godliness. He spoke a few words to the parents about the sacred stewardship he was entrusting to them and how they would answer to him on the Great Day for their children’s faith and life. Then he poured water on the head of each one, blessed them, handed them back to the parents, and ascended back through the parted roof and with a loud crash, the roof came back together, and everything was as it had been.[1]

That Baptism would become a great memory even though some would have no active recollection of it. Scarcely a day would pass without parents reminding them that the Lord Christ himself had taken them in his arms as children and declared that these little children belonged to him from the headwaters of his life!  As these children grew up, they would remain under the mercy and the specter and the glory of that Baptism. Their whole life would be colored and shaped by it. When they disobeyed, the memory of it would correct him. When he was discouraged, it would comfort and inspire him. Could anyone see such a baptism and not know for a certainty that Christ would be attending to the life of that child and that his blessing would rest upon him? That is what Baptism does, and that is its effect, or should be. But we see through a glass, darkly, not yet face to face. This is no small act, but it is precisely what is happening today to these dear saints.


[1] Mainly taken from Robert Rayburn.

The Fearful Mother

'I Cannot! It Would Be a Sin! A Fearful Sin!'

Dear Sister,

Your question was, and I hope I am doing justice to its insightfulness: “What actions can a Christian take when she is living in fear for the country’s future?” It seems you are frightened by what you perceive to be an attack on a country you love. You are politically active online and constantly update yourself with the news cycle. And from what you told me, you are in several private groups discussing various political topics. If the picture I paint is correct, here are two ways to move forward:

First, allow me to be reasonably direct with you since you posed the question with the anticipation of an objective answer. I want to see you diminish 10% of your time on the news cycle this week. I trust I am being reasonable here. If I told you to cut off all your time, it would be too aggressive a strategy at this stage. 10% would look like keeping your cell phone charged in another room when you come to bed at night. That little ritual shift can be enormously fruitful in diminishing fear in your life. The end goal is not to forsake the political world–as if you had a choice–but the ultimate goal is to think rightly about the political world. You will find that very often the politics of God and the politics of this world are diametrically different.

I can assure you that your fascination with politics and your pessimism about the future stems from something much deeper. In other words, there are more intrinsic fears you have that are overflowing into your perspective about the world and you need to see the overarching context of your fears.

You need to contemplate these small changes because I have watched couples–and specifically, mothers–offer more of their body and soul to these external causes than the internal causes of their households. Remember what I have told you: the anxious person controls the home. You do not want your anxieties to control the lives of your children and spouse.

Therefore, I think you need less screen time at night as a starter. I think you need less bombardment from paid media gurus who literally increase their wealth by spreading more panic. More panic among viewers, more sponsors, and more wealth. You have not been given a spirit of fear, and part of that gift is that you are to steward your courage well so that it doesn’t lose its fervor. When courage and hopefulness are running low, fear happily takes its place.

Secondly, I urge you to worship well. And by that, I mean practicing rituals of worship regularly. If your schedule is filled with worshipping practices, your orientation towards political zealotry will diminish. I have seen moms get so identified with political parties–in my world, the GOP–that they would gladly take an invitation to a GOP convention than the invitation God offers to worship. This is problematic. It’s not just your heart that is in danger, but those around you. If you cannot think rightly about the world, you will not think rightly about God and his call to worship.

Stay close to friends who cherish your heart and well-being, and do not give in to zealots who tempt you to be a revolutionary. Your role is to revolutionize your home with beauty and to strengthen your soul with laughter.

Sincerely,

Pastor Uriesou Brito

#letters

The Weightiness of Worship

When we come into worship on this day, there is a weightiness to what happens. We come soberly into worship because the sons of Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, offered strange fire in the holy place, and God struck them dead. We come soberly because religious leaders compromised God’s Word, and God destroyed their temple. We come soberly because some in Corinth were eating and drinking to exalt themselves and dividing the Church and Paul says, “Some died, as a result!” Beloved, this is not some trivial exercise this morning.

There is a weightiness to worship that is not experienced anywhere/anytime except when we gather on the Lord’s Day. I was exposed these last few weeks to some of the most amazing sights in this country. Glorious mountains towering over each other in a competition of glory; lakes decorated with ice and snow, and sceneries that, unless you see it, you’d be tempted to think they were photoshopped. But all of creation’s glory cannot compare to the glory of human beings gathered in a building to enter into communion with God in worship.

Many years ago, a parishioner pulled me aside and asked, “Why do we talk so much about worship at Providence?” I remember giving him some pious answer, but if that question were asked today, I would say, “Because the only way human beings can feel light in God’s presence is if we understand the weightiness of worship.”

G.K. Chesterton once said that angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. Worship is weighty! But Christians come boldly before the throne of grace; which is to say, “they fly into God’s presence lightly.

Today, if you are lonely, God says, “Come!” Heavy burdened, God says, “Confess!” Needy, he says, “Hear!” Hungry, he says, “Eat!” And then to the blessed, he says, “Go!”

The weightiness of worship is for the lightness of your soul! Come to Jesus Christ!

Discussion with Scott Aniol on Christian Nationalism

Scott Aniol is a gentleman and a scholar. He is also one of those voices that I think need to be heard in our day, especially concerning the proper place of the Psalms in the life of the Church. This past year he has been embroiled in a few back and forth with Christian Nationalism and Christendom advocates. Those debates have offered some clarity, but not as much clarity as I would like to see.

In this 45-minute interview, I sit down with Scott in Monroe, LA, to discuss the role of the Psalms in worship and then transition to some of our eschatological differences and how these perspectives shape our understanding of present political discourse.

My goal–and Scott’s as well–is to provide an environment where we can discuss our differences with soberness and then find common ground to move forward as faithful men in this present cultural darkness.

Audio quality is superb thanks to the labors of Jarrod Richey, and the intro and outro music is from the talented George Reed.

Head-Covering and Fixed Practices

The practice of head-covering, belief in the perpetual virginity of Mary, iconography, and veneration of saints is befitting those traditions that claim centuries of adherence to the dogma. They form a liturgical unity of clothing and ritual.

These traditions do not believe in theological maturation but depend on established theological dogma in stated doctrine and practice. It makes sense in a world where history is meant to be the great mother. These practices form the fabric of Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism.

These practices, however, are not befitting Reformed Protestants who affirm theological maturation and growth in biblical theology and practice. While Calvin held to certain ideas which favored the perpetual virginity of Mary, for the Protestant, fidelity to Scripture gains from history but is not bound by it. We can easily claim that Calvin’s theological dispositions were erroneous on this front while praising a large portion of his theological corpus. The Reformed are especially not bound to the praxeology of history; instead, the Reformation builds on historical knowledge to a greater maturity.

We can affirm the dogma of creedal orthodoxy because it reflects the ultimate biblical creed. Nevertheless, we do not believe Church History’s practices or methods are fixed because God is maturing his body according to his Word.

What does The Priesthood of all Believers mean?

The doctrine of “The Priesthood of All Believers” is one of the most abused by modern evangelicalism. It was never meant to be a case for individualized hermeneutical exercises or to undermine the Church’s authority. It meant that we were offerings unto God and others.

According to Luther and Calvin, this priesthood made God’s people responsible for one another in their living and interpretation. Thus, the priesthood of all believers meant that we were responsible for public edification in the Church.