On October 22, 1976, Clyde Kilby, who is now with Christ in Heaven, gave an unforgettable lecture. I went to hear him that night because I loved him. He had been one of my professors in English Literature at Wheaton College. He opened my eyes to more of life than I knew could be seen. O, what eyes he had! He was like his hero, C. S. Lewis, in this regard. When he spoke of the tree he saw on the way to class this morning, you wondered why you had been so blind all your life. Since those days in classes with Clyde Kilby, Psalm 19:1 has been central to my life: “The sky is telling the glory of God.”

That night Dr. Kilby had a pastoral heart and a poet’s eye. He pled with us to stop seeking mental health in the mirror of self-analysis, but instead to drink in the remedies of God in nature. He was not naïve. He knew of sin. He knew of the necessity of redemption in Christ. But he would have said that Christ purchased new eyes for us as well as new hearts. His plea was that we stop being unamazed by the strange glory of ordinary things. He ended that lecture in 1976 with a list of resolutions. As a tribute to my teacher and a blessing to your soul, I offer them for your joy.

1. At least once every day I shall look steadily up at the sky and remember that I, a consciousness with a conscience, am on a planet traveling in space with wonderfully mysterious things above and about me.

2. Instead of the accustomed idea of a mindless and endless evolutionary change to which we can neither add nor subtract, I shall suppose the universe guided by an Intelligence which, as Aristotle said of Greek drama, requires a beginning, a middle, and an end. I think this will save me from the cynicism expressed by Bertrand Russell before his death when he said: "There is darkness without, and when I die there will be darkness within. There is no splendor, no vastness anywhere, only triviality for a moment, and then nothing."

3. I shall not fall into the falsehood that this day, or any day, is merely another ambiguous and plodding twenty-four hours, but rather a unique event, filled, if I so wish, with worthy potentialities. I shall not be fool enough to suppose that trouble and pain are wholly evil parentheses in my existence, but just as likely ladders to be climbed toward moral and spiritual manhood.

4. I shall not turn my life into a thin, straight line which prefers abstractions to reality. I shall know what I am doing when I abstract, which of course I shall often have to do.

5. I shall not demean my own uniqueness by envy of others. I shall stop boring into myself to discover what psychological or social categories I might belong to. Mostly I shall simply forget about myself and do my work.

6. I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them the mystery of what Lewis calls their "divine, magical, terrifying and ecstatic" existence.

7. I shall sometimes look back at the freshness of vision I had in childhood and try, at least for a little while, to be, in the words of Lewis Carroll, the "child of the pure unclouded brow, and dreaming eyes of wonder."

8. I shall follow Darwin's advice and turn frequently to imaginative things such as good literature and good music, preferably, as Lewis suggests, an old book and timeless music.

9. I shall not allow the devilish onrush of this century to usurp all my energies but will instead, as Charles Williams suggested, "fulfill the moment as the moment." I shall try to live well just now because the only time that exists is now.

10. Even if I turn out to be wrong, I shall bet my life on the assumption that this world is not idiotic, neither run by an absentee landlord, but that today, this very day, some stroke is being added to the cosmic canvas that in due course I shall understand with joy as a stroke made by the architect who calls himself Alpha and Omega.

This week's sermon: "Pray Like This: Hallowed Be Your Name"

Prayer is intentionally conveying a message to God.

It's for the private room, and it's for family, small gatherings, and worship services. Prayer is for everywhere all the time.

We pray because God tell us to and because it increases our joy. It is a staggeringly awesome privilege and it glorifies the Father and his Son.

In his model prayer, the first thing Jesus instructs us to ask the Father is to make his name hallowed. This is first, above all others.

The most central, supreme, and overarching concern in prayer is to plead with God that God would make his name supremely valuable in the minds and hearts of people.

As 2007 comes to an end (already?) my heart is full of gratitude to God for three remarkable groups of people that by God’s grace made the ministry at DG happen this year. They are gifts from the Father to me and to all who benefit from this gospel outreach.

The first are my precious partners in the day to day work at DG. The DG staff, about 35 full and part-time people, are some of the most godly, creative, resourceful, and life-giving people I know. I’m simply spoiled. The DG office is like a taste of heaven because these folks are so wonderful. I love these dear friends.

The second group is the DG Board of Directors. Sam Crabtree, Peter Hedstrom, Mitch Pearson, and John Piper are men whose prayer-soaked wisdom guides the ship of DG. I don’t deserve to have such leaders. And I am doubly-blessed to have John Knight step off the board to join the staff this January. I love these men.

The third group are the donors whose prayerful financial partnership underwrite all the spreading strategies that the board and staff undertake. Every year God provides our needs through these friends. I’m writing and you’re reading this blog entry because of the graciousness of each supporter. I love these generous partners.

Father, I feel compelled to give you public thanks for these people you have raised up to support Desiring God. Through them you have blessed me so far beyond what I deserve that I simply bow my head in worship. Millions of people have been reached this year because you chose these 3 groups of people to work together to reach them. From you and through you and to you are all things. To you belong the glory forever and ever. I love you. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Listen

It seemed to us that if the focus of the pastors conference is going to be on the pastor as father—both of a church and a family—then having the sons along could enable them to catch a vision of what it is that their fathers are called to and what the challenges are that their fathers face.

Asking the fathers to come is, in part, a means of showing respect. And wouldn't it be awesome to see a few hundred three-generation teams at the conference, all hearing messages about God as our father, pastors as fathers, and missions as fathering? Asking fathers and sons to come is a way of building into the manhood of sons, fathers, and grandfathers a sense of what a great calling it is to be a man, a father, and a leader of a church.

If those boys could hear 1,300 men sing around that theme I think it just might be absolutely life-changing for some of them. They may never forget it.

Finally. Al Mohler has published his own book.

His forthcoming work Culture Shift is vintage Mohler—and that’s a very good thing.

Culture Shift is a compilation of twenty key posts from his blog that have been worked together to provide a coherent message on Christian cultural engagement, especially in the public political realm.

Mohler’s impetus for Christian engagement, stated with clarity several times in the book, is the greatest and second commandments. Christians first love God and then, flowing from that, love their neighbor. And loving your neighbor does not mean withdrawing but engaging and providing a Christian perspective and presence in the public arena for the glory of God and the good of others.

Mohler is very careful to never leave the gospel behind in all his culture talk. He explicitly comes back to the gospel and its advance and its essentiality in the whole process time and again.

The release date is January 15, but it's available now to pre-order.

Most of us are not called to leave our home and move our families around the world to minister to unreached peoples. But that means we are called to support those who do.

Frontiers is currently raising money to send 50 new teams to unreached Muslims. Their U.S. director, Bob Blincoe, writes in his latest newsletter,

In partnership with churches across America, Frontiers' goal is to send, in the next five years, new church planting teams to 50 "unengaged" Muslim people groups of 100,000 or more. ... By unengaged, I mean they are not only unreached, but entirely without any effective church planting work.

The money they raise will cover the costs of "recruiting, training, deployment, on-field supervision and coaching, member care, technology and communications support, and other vital services."

Any gifts given by the end of the year will be doubled by a matching grant.

If you enjoyed Jon Bloom’s post-Christmas wisdom, you might like a 400-year-old version of the same point in verse by George Herbert.

This is one of my all-time favorite poems:

The Pulley

When God at first made man,
Having a glasse of blessings standing by;
Let us (said he) poure on him all we can:
Let the worlds riches, which dispersed lie,
Contract into a span.

So strength first made a way;
Then beautie flow’d, then wisdome, honour, pleasure:
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that alone, of all his treasure,
Rest in the bottome lay.

For if I should (said he)
Bestow this jewell also on my creature,
He would adore my gifts in stead of me,
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:
So both should losers be.

Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlesnesse:
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least,
If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse
May tosse him to my breast.

Come to the pastors conference for only $100, if you register by the end of the year.

I love my wife. Today is her 60th birthday. I got her permission to say that.

We have had significant talks in recent months about aging. Not all the accompaniments are visible, and not all are expected. But some things are firm—forever. That’s because of Christ. I wanted Noël to feel that. Hence the poem.

Losses

On Turning Sixty

Toward sixty, losses multiply.
The pace and pain we cannot stop:
How suddenly the petals dry,
And as if in agreement, drop.

And sometimes even little buds
Are lost, cut off before they bloom,
And heaven nourishes with floods
Of hopeful tears, her second womb.

How many petals yet will fall
Before the aging stems are bare?
How many losses till the call
For us, my friend, to join her there?

But if you count them, though they sting
More than the babes of Bethlehem,
Mark this: As long as Christ is king,
My love will not be one of them.

Each year Christmas night finds members of my family feeling some melancholy. After weeks of anticipation, the Christmas celebrations have flashed by us and are suddenly gone. And we’re left standing, watching the Christmas taillights and music fade into the night.

But it’s possible that this moment of melancholy may be the best teaching moment of the whole season. Because as long as the beautiful gifts remain unopened around the tree and the events are still ahead of us, they can appear to be the hope we are waiting for. But when the tree is empty and events are past, we realize we are longing for a lasting hope.

So last night, as Pam and I tucked our kids into bed, we talked about a few things with them:

• Gifts and events can’t fill the soul. God gives us such things to enjoy. They are expressions of his generosity as well as ours, but gifts and celebrations themselves are not designed to satisfy. They're designed to point us to the Giver. Gifts are like sunbeams. We are not meant to love sunbeams but the Sun.
• Putting our hope in gifts will leave us empty. Many people live their lives looking for the right sunbeam to make them happy. But if we depend on anything in the world to satisfy our soul’s deepest desire, it will eventually leave us with that post-Christmas soul-ache. We will ask, “Is that all?” because we know deep down that’s not all there is. We are designed to treasure a Person, not his things.
• It is more blessed to give than receive. What kind of happiness this Christmas felt richer, getting the presents that you wanted or making someone else happy with something that you gave to them? Receiving is a blessing, but Jesus is right—giving is a greater blessing. A greedy soul lives in a small, lonely world. A generous soul lives in a wide world of love.

It’s just like God to let the glitter and flash of the celebrations (even in his honor) to pass and then to come to us in the quiet, even melancholic void they leave. Because often that’s when we are most likely to understand the hope he intends for us to have at Christmas.

The book on sale this week, The Pleasures of God, has a chapter entitled “The Pleasure of God in Bruising His Son.” It is based on Isaiah 53:10, “The LORD was pleased to bruise him, he has put him to grief.” The chapter ends with this parable:

Once there was a land ruled by a wicked prince. He had come from a foreign country and enslaved all the people of the land and made them miserable with hard labor in his coal mines across the deep canyon. He had built a massive trestle for the trains that carried his slaves across the canyon to the mines each morning, and it was heavily guarded.

Two men were still free in this kingdom -- one old and the other young. They lived on an inaccessible cliff overlooking the trestle. They hated the trestle. At last they resolved together to blow it up and destroy the slave labor of the enemy prince. They planned and they prayed and they reminded themselves of the reality of heaven.

The night came when the deed would be done. Their hearts were pounding with joy. It was a hard plan. It would be possible to time the trek of the trestle guard so that the explosive could be carried quickly to the vulnerable spot on the trestle. But there would be no time for the carrier of the explosives to return. It was certain that the he would be seen and the plan foiled if he tried to return. To make sure the trestle blew up the two men agreed that the young man would detonate it by hand on the trestle. He would blow up with it.

But they believed in heaven, and they loved the people of the land. And so the honor of this sacrifice made their hearts leap with joy. The hour came. They folded up the map of their strategy, stood from the table and embraced each other. When the young man got to the door, he turned with the explosive strapped to his back, looked at the old man, and said, "I love you, Father." And the old man took a deep breath—with joy—and said, "I love you too, Son."

Listen

The death of my dad in March 2007 prompted the theme for this year's conference. After he died, and I began to think later that summer about who my biography would be about this year, it occured to me that I could do it on my dad.

I thought that I would tell the story of my father, and his ministry as an evangelist, and my relationship with him. And it hit me that maybe the whole conference should be built around fatherhood.

Then I remembered that Don Carson, a professor at Trinity, also lost his father recently. And I heard through the grapevine that he is writing a book about him (which should be ready for the conference) and I thought that he might come and be the keynote speaker. He could focus on the issues of the pastor as a father of a congregation, father of a family, son of God, and son of a father.

So it all began to come together that the whole conference would relate to fathering and pastoring. Then we got the idea to invite the fathers and sons of the pastors.

So this is going to be a very unusual pastor's conference. People will be bringing their sons and their dads, and the whole thing will be to talk about those dimensions of ministry.

This is part 4 of 4 on the Incarnation.

1. Advent and the Incarnation
2. Jesus Is Fully Human
3. What Is the Hypostatic Union?

Jesus was born of a virgin. This is a unique glory. Of the billions of humans who have lived throughout history, only one person entered the world in this way. There is only one mediator between God and man (1 Timothy 2:5), and there is only one human who was virgin born.¹

Jesus’ distinctive birth isn’t a myth nor merely a random fact from the Gospels. It is a special honor conferred only on the Son of God. And it is full of significance for knowing the person of Jesus and the God who has revealed himself in him.

Supernatural, Not Mythical

Matthew and Luke wrote the authoritative accounts. Neither was likely to be gullible in the least. Matthew was a former tax-collector. Luke was a doctor. True—medicine has come a long way in twenty centuries, but it isn’t a recent discovery that virgins don’t have babies. From the very beginning of Jesus’ human life, his eternal Father set him apart as exceptional. The Gospel writers didn’t concoct a myth. Luke even consulted with Jesus’ mother² who confirmed that Jesus’ birth was supernatural.³

In his masterful work The Person of Christ, Donald Macleod writes,

The virgin birth is posted on guard at the door of the mystery of Christmas; and none of us must think of hurrying past it. It stands on the threshold of the New Testament, blatantly supernatural, defying our rationalism, informing us that all that follows belongs to the same order as itself and that if we find it offensive there is no point in proceeding further. (37)

Blatantly supernatural. Defying our rationalism. And, sadly, a favorite target of liberal attack. Critical scholars have had a field day with the virgin birth—or at least tried to. As theological institutions drifted left in the twentieth century, mocking a literal virgin birth was in vogue. One may wonder how some liberal religion professors would have produced a semester’s worth of lectures without picking on this doctrine.

But the virgin birth survived the myopic hubris of modernism. It now seems more at home today among many postmodern types who grant that pure naturalism need not explain the birth of the God-man. A recent survey found that 79% of Americans believe in the virgin birth, and even more surprisingly, 27% of self-proclaimed non-Christians affirm the doctrine.

Why the Virgin Birth?

What is the significance of the virgin birth? To begin with, it highlights the supernatural. On one end of Jesus’ life lies his supernatural conception and birth; on the other, his supernatural resurrection and his ascension to God’s right hand. Jesus’ authenticity was attested to by the supernatural working of his Father.

Secondly, the virgin birth shows that humanity needs redeeming that it can’t bring about for itself. The fact that the human race couldn’t produce its own redeemer implies that its sin and guilt are profound and that its savior must come from outside.

Thirdly, in the virgin birth, God’s initiative is on display. The angel didn’t ask Mary about her willingness. He announced, “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus” (Luke 1:31). God didn’t ask Mary for permission. He acted—gently but decisively—to save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21).

Finally, this virgin birth hints at the fully human and fully divine natures united in Jesus’ one person. The entry of the eternal Word into the world didn’t have to happen this way. But it did. Wayne Grudem writes,

God, in his wisdom, ordained a combination of human and divine influence in the birth of Christ, so that his full humanity would be evident to us from the fact of his ordinary human birth from a human mother, and his full deity would be evident from the fact of his conception in Mary’s womb by the powerful work of the Holy Spirit. (Systematic Theology, 530)

God chose to mark the coming of his eternal Son, his anointed one, with this extraordinary birth.

Must We Believe in the Virgin Birth?

If God didn’t have to send his Son in this way, then is it important that we believe in the virgin birth? The answer is a resounding yes. It didn’t have to happen this way, but it did. God appointed it this particular way, and he appointed Matthew and Luke to record it clearly in their Gospels. To deny this doctrine is to open the door to denying anything plainly affirmed in the Bible.⁴ Mark Driscoll is right to claim,

If the virgin birth of Jesus is untrue, then the story of Jesus changes greatly; we would have a sexually promiscuous young woman lying about God’s miraculous hand in the birth of her son, raising that son to declare he was God, and then joining his religion. But if Mary is nothing more than a sinful con artist then neither she nor her son Jesus should be trusted. Because both the clear teachings of Scripture about the beginning of Jesus’ earthly life and the character of his mother are at stake, we must contend for the virgin birth of Jesus Christ. (The Supremacy of Christ in a Postmodern World, 136)

Yes, the virgin birth is well worth contending for. And everything worth contending for is worth rejoicing in. No human person existed prior to conception like the preexistent Jesus. And no human being was virgin born except this man. This is a unique glory of the God-man. What a magnificent Lord, Savior, and Treasure!

This week's sermon: Why Do We Need to Be Born Again? Part 3

Christmas was not optional.

The incarnation of the Son of God—the eternal Word taking on human flesh—wasn't just for show. For human beings to be saved, Jesus had to become a human being. He had to be born. He had become incarnate.

Without this incarnation, there would be no regeneration. No purification of sins. No justification before God.

What great love the Father has shown to us in the sending of his Son! What indescribable love is on display at Christmas!

For his 4th Advent poem this year, John Piper read one that he wrote in 1987 about Stephen, the first Christian martyr.

I wrote this story about four years ago to tell the children at Bethlehem's Christmas Eve service.

The Poor Man and His Cow
And the Rich Man and His Wall

Based (very loosely) on a story in T. H. White’s The Once and Future King.

Once upon a time there was a very wise old man named Job. In his old age God gave to him a daughter whom he named Jemima, which means little dove. He loved his little girl and she loved her daddy.

One day Job decided to go on journey and asked Jemima if she would like to go along. “Oh, yes,” Jemima said. “I would love to go along.”

But Job said, “It will be a journey that takes us several days. So we will be staying each night wherever people will have us. So I can’t promise it will be nice. But God will take care of us. He always does what is right. He always meets the needs of those who trust him.”

Jemima smiled and said, “And even if things go bad, God makes them turn for good. Right, Daddy? Just like the little poem that you taught us:

When things don’t go the way they should
God always makes them turn for good.”

“That’s right, Jemima,” Daddy said, “and there’s another little poem you need to learn. It goes like this:

When things go better than they should
For people who are bad,
Remember, if they stay that way,
At last they will be sad.”

And so they started off on their journey and walked all day. At sundown they saw a little cottage and knocked on the door. A very poor man and his wife and baby lived there. Job asked if he and Jemima could spend the night there before they continued on their journey in the morning.

The poor man and his wife were very happy to let them stay. They gave Job and Jemima their own room and made them a simple supper. The special treat was fresh milk from their only cow. This was how the poor couple made a living. Their cow gave good milk and they sold it for enough to live on.

In the morning when Job and Jemima got up they heard crying. The cow had died during the night. The poor man’s wife was crying, “What will we do? What will we do?” she sobbed. The poor man was about to cut the cow into pieces and sell the meat before it spoiled. But Job said, “I think you should not cut the cow in pieces but bury him by your back wall under the olive tree. The meat may not be good to sell. Trust God, and he will take care of you.”

Then Job and Jemima went on their way. They walked all day again and were very tired when they came to the next town and noticed a fine home. They knocked on the door. A very wealthy man lived in this house and they hoped that they would not be an inconvenience to one so wealthy.

But the man was very gruff with them and said they could stay in the barn. He gave them water and bread for supper and let them eat it by themselves in the barn. Job was very thankful for the barn and the bread and water and said to the wealthy man, “Thank you very much for the bread and water and for letting us stay in your barn.”

In the morning Job noticed that one of the walls of the house was crumbling. So he went and bought bricks and mortar and repaired the hole in the wall for the wealthy man. Then Job and Jemima went on their way and came to their destination.

As they sat by the fire that night Jemima said, “Daddy, I don’t understand the ways of God. It doesn’t seem right that the poor man’s cow should die when he was so good to us, and that you should fix the rich man’s wall when he was so bad to us.”

“Well, Jemima,” Job said, “many things are not the way they seem. Perhaps this once I will tell you why. But after this you will have to trust God.”

“The poor man’s cow was very sick, but he didn’t know it. I could taste it in the milk. Soon he would have sold bad milk and the people would have gotten sick and died, and they would have stoned him. So I told him not to sell the meat, but to bury the cow under the olive tree by his back wall because the Lord showed me that, if he dug the grave there he would find a silver cup buried from long ago, and sell it for enough money to buy two good cows. And in the end things would be better for him and his wife and child.”

“When we spent the night at the rich man’s house, I saw the hole in the wall and I saw more than that. I saw that hidden in the wall from generations ago was a chest full of gold. If the rich man had repaired the wall himself, he would have found it and continued in his pride and cruelty. So I bought brick and closed the wall so that the man would never find this treasure.”

“Do you see, Jemima?”

“Yes, Daddy, I see.”

“So never forget, Jemima, many things are not what they seem. But if we trust in God,

When things don’t go the way they should
God always makes them turn for good.”

But if we turn away from God and are unkind and selfish, then the other saying will come true:

When things go better than they should
For people who are bad,
Remember, if they stay that way,
At last they will be sad.”

And that’s the way it was with Jesus. It seemed like he was unimportant because he was born in a small unimportant town, not a big city. He was born in a stable, not a palace. He was laid in a manger, not a fine bed. He was a carpenter not a famous statesman. He had a small group of friends, not a great army. And worst of all, he was killed like a common criminal on a cross.

But many things are not what they seem. He was the Son of God, the Savior of the world. He rose from the dead. He is alive today and rules over the world and King of kings and Lord of lords. And everyone who trusts in him will have all their sins forgiven, and will be able to say,

When things don’t go the way they should
God always makes them turn for good.”

This week we are offering The Pleasures of God for $4.99 while supplies last.

Noël and I mark our 39th wedding anniversary today. As you can see from the pictures, some things change. As you can see from the poem, some things don’t.

None But You

For Noël on our 39th Wedding Anniversary

Whose lips have mine with kisses met?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose kisses can I not forget?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Whose arms have wound me to her soul?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose wings enfold, caress, console?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Whose hands have touched my aching heart?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose touch is healing, counsel, art?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Whose feet have found the secret stride?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose cadence keeps her at my side?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Whose eyes can see the world through mine?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose vision trace the secret sign?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Whose tears have soaked my collar dark?
None but yours, no, none but yours.
Whose sorrows leave the deepest mark?
None but yours, no, none but yours.

Who gave herself to me alone?
None but you, no, none but you.
Who is the only one I’ve known?
None but you, no, none but you.

There is no other I desire,
None but you, no, none but you.
Till death my deepest friend, my fire:
None but you, no, none but you.

I’m a bit of a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas time gift giving. Sometimes I feel like if you’re going to spend $25 on me and I’m going to spend $25 on you, then let’s just do nothing and call it even, save the effort.

But when it comes to my wife, it’s a different story. I love buying presents for her, because I think I know exactly what’ll make her tear up with happiness on Christmas morning. Granted, she cries easily, but she’s going to love what I got her. So I spend my days leading up to Christmas making up silly songs about her present to torment her with the fact that I know what it is and she doesn’t. Maybe that’s mean, but I can hardly help it. I’m excited.

So what’s the difference between the gift giving that irritates me and the gift giving that I enjoy (and that irritates Molly)?

One difference, crass as it may sound, is what’s in both gifts for me.

It’s not exciting to give a mediocre gift to someone, all the while knowing that they’re getting a gift for me of the same value. It smacks of bartering. I know that’s a negative attitude and doesn’t do much for Christmas spirit. I’m working on it.

But when I get a gift for Molly, it is a joy, because I get to lavish her unexpectedly with things she’s going to love. And she’s not going to do the same for me in the same way, so it’s not a trade. (At least I hope she doesn’t, since it would be from the same bank account that I bought her gift with.)

I feel sort of bad about my Scroogy attitude toward the first kind of gift giving, but I don’t feel bad that I’m excited to give Molly a gift because of what it does for me. It’s not as selfish as it sounds—I love it because of how happy it’s going to make her.

Regarding generosity, Paul writes,

Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.

Why would he say this if the goal weren’t to reap bountifully? The reason to sow is to reap. Is it OK, then, to say that the reason to give is to get? It depends on what I’m hoping to get by giving.

Whether I should or not, I don’t like swapping gifts, because it feels like I’m sowing sparingly, so I won’t really get anything out of it. But if I get to bountifully put my energy and money toward Molly, then I have every reason to happily anticipate reaping the rewards on Christmas morning. I don’t have to feel bad about eagerly awaiting my reward, because my reward is her big grin.

Now I’m nervous that I’ve talked up my present to my wife too much. I hope she likes it.

Today is the 200th anniversary of John Newton’s death.

• John Newton wrote the hymn ‘Amazing Grace.” (The words, not the music.)
• He counseled William Wilberforce to stay in politics to fight the slave trade.
• He never gave up on the suicidal William Cowper who gave us “There Is A Fountain Filled with Blood” and “God Moves in a Mysterious Way” and “O For a Closer Walk with God.”
• He partnered with Cowper in writing a collection of Olney Hymns for their people. Cowper could not carry it through. Of the 300 hymns we have today 233 are from Newton.
• When Henry Martyn came to him for counsel before entering on his mission to Persia (and dying there at age 31) he asked Newton about the opposition he was likely to meet with. Newton answered that “he supposed Satan would not love me for what I was about to do.”
• He was a tender pastor and friend to those who knew him. I love him and count it a privilege to say, “Thank you, Father, for this remarkable man.”

Newton was the captain of a slave trading ship before he became a pastor. To the end of his life he was still marveling that he was saved and called to preach the gospel of grace. From his last will and testament we read:

I commit my soul to my gracious God and Savior, who mercifully spared and preserved me, when I was an apostate, a blasphemer, and an infidel, and delivered me from the state of misery on the coast of Africa into which my obstinate wickedness had plunged me; and who has been pleased to admit me (though most unworthy) to preach his glorious gospel. (Cited in The Roots of Endurance, pg 45)

Did you know that your small group could register one of your church leaders at our pastors conference for less than $10 a person?

This conference is a refreshing time for pastors to slow down their normal pace of life and focus on worshiping the Lord and soaking in the Word. Year after year we hear comments from those who are deeply blessed and spiritually encouraged as a result of attending.

Not only would this conference bless your pastors, it would bless you. It is wonderful for a church to have a happy pastor, and we love doing this conference each year to try to serve churches by encouraging their pastors.

The theme for this year is "The Pastor as Father and Son," and the speakers are John Piper, D. A. Carson, Crawford Loritts, and Greg Livingstone. Because of the theme we are inviting pastors to bring their fathers and sons to enjoy the conference with them—and for just $50 each.

We always look forward to putting this event on for pastors (and their churches) and would love it if yours could be a part of it!

Read about the new offices DG will be moving to in 2008 and how you can help us meet an important financial need.

Just before the first service at the north campus last Sunday, the little band of praying saints was hard at work fighting for the faith of our people and for the churches of the Twin Cities and for the nations as they prayed. At one point Jim Tomaszewski prayed the words of John 1:14-16:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. . . . And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

It was one of those epiphany moments for me...

Read the rest of the article. 

Were you unable to send a Christmas present or care package to some missionaries you love this season? It’s okay. You can still bless a missionary this Christmas.

[Update: It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway—even though Christmas is past, these ideas can still encourage our friends overseas. Let's keep serving them all year long!]

Here are 13 post-office-free ideas to get you started, most of which you could do right now from your desk:

• Pray specific Scripture for them and their ministry, and then email it to them.
• Call or email their parents—Christmas might be just as lonely for the ones at home as the ones away.
• Purchase phone minutes for an international calling card through an online service like OneSuite and email them the account number.
• Donate frequent flier miles to them.
• Purchase an iTunes gift card for them. Have it sent to you and email them the account number.
• Commit to pray for them on a specific day of the week for a year.
• Write a song or poem or story for them. Email them the text and a recording of you reading or singing it.
• Get friends and family together to create a holiday video greeting for them using Google Video or YouTube. Include lots of people you know they miss.
• Make a year-end gift through their missions board or agency.
• Western Union—the fastest way to send money.
• Call their local florist (not everyone is in the jungle these days) and have flowers delivered, or their local Pizza Hut and have pizza delivered—with corn and shrimp as toppings!
• Donate to a charity that means a lot to them.
• Make a monthly commitment to support them financially.

If you have your own ideas, respond to this post and let us know what they are. Maybe next year we can offer 50 suggestions, or 100.

(Remember to use discernment in written or video communication if your missionaries work in security-sensitive locations.)

This is part 3 of 4 on the Incarnation

• Part 1: Advent and the Incarnation
• Part 2: Jesus Is Fully Human

The term hypostatic union is much easier than it sounds, but the concept is as profound as anything in theology.

The English adjective hypostatic comes from the Greek word hupostasis. The word only appears four times in the New Testament—maybe most memorably in Hebrews 1:3, where Jesus is said to be “the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature.” Here the author of Hebrews uses the word in reference to the oneness of God. Both the Father and the Son are of the same “nature.” Jesus is “the exact imprint of his nature.”

However, in early church discussions, as Greek thinkers tried to find agreeable terms with those who spoke in Latin, the word hupostasis came to denote not the sameness in the Godhead (God’s one essence) but the distinctness (the three persons). So it began to be used to refer to something like the English word person.

The Personal Union of Jesus’ Two Natures

So “hypostatic union” may sound fancy in English, but it’s a pretty simple term. Hypostatic means personal. The hypostatic union is the personal union of Jesus’ two natures.

Jesus has two complete natures—one fully human and one fully divine. What the doctrine of the hypostatic union teaches is that these two natures are united in one person in the God-man. Jesus is not two persons. He is one person. The hypostatic union is the joining of the divine and the human in the one person of Jesus.

What Is the Significance?

Why bother with this seemingly fancy term? What good is it to know about this hypostatic union? At the end of the day, the term can go, but the concept behind the term is infinitely precious—and worshipfully mind-stretching.

It is immeasurably sweet—and awe-inspiring—to know that Jesus’ two natures are perfectly united in his one person. Jesus is not divided. He is not two people. He is one person. As the Chalcedonian Creed states, his two natures are without confusion, without change, without division, and without separation. Jesus is one.

This means Jesus is one focal point for our worship. And as Jonathan Edwards preached, in this one-person God-man we find “an admirable conjunction of diverse excellencies.”

Because of this hypostatic, one-person union, Jesus Christ exhibits an unparalleled magnificence. No one person satisfies the complex longings of the human heart like the God-man.

God has made the human heart in such a way that it will never be eternally content with that which is only human. Finitude can’t slake our thirst for the infinite.

And yet, in our finite humanity, we are significantly helped by a point of correspondence with the divine. God was glorious long before he became a man in Jesus. But we are human beings, and unincarnate deity doesn’t connect with us in the same way as the God who became human. The conception of a god who never became man (like Allah) will not satisfy the human soul like the God who did.

One Person, For Us

And beyond just gazing at the spectacular person of Jesus, there is also the amazing gospel-laced revelation that the reason Jesus became the God-man was for us. His fully human nature joined in personal union to his eternally divine nature is permanent proof that Jesus, in perfect harmony with his Father, is undeterrably for us. He has demonstrated his love for us in that while we were still sinners, he took our nature to his one person and died for us.