Canadian Christians: Dwarfs, Deadheads or Douglas Firs?

It’s really encouraging to see all of the good and godly resources that are available to Canadian Christians today.

Consider what a blessing it is to have Tim Challies writing and  resourcing us, assisting in the discipleship of Christians all over the world. There are new initiatives like The Gospel Coalition Canada getting off the ground that intend to help Canadian churches grow in depth and unity. Good publishers print more books than mere mortals can attempt to read.

But for all of our resources, when we look at ourselves with a properly Canadian self-criticism, we can see that we’re not really where we ought to be in spiritual maturity. Our churches could be so much sounder, our prayers could be more frequent, our witness could be more winsome and consistent and our thoughts of God more clear and honouring to Him.

As usual, JI Packer has crafted a perfect picture of the contrast between first, what we look like today, and second, what we could aspire to under God’s grace.

Dwarfs and Deadheads

First of all, Packer says that the contemporary church is so affected by affluence that it has been making, “dwarfs and deadheads of us all.” [1]

With gospel-centred this, and grace-based that, it is jolting to think that we’re not really very far along. It can sober us up to think that our misplaced priorities, worship of glass ‘screens’ and affluent anxieties have kept us stunted.  All of these God-centred resources are helpful, and we should praise God for the blessing of them. But we need to be careful about being too big for our britches. God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4.6).

One of the graces which God gives, is the memory of faithful believers who have gone before us. The biblical summary of this practice is found in Hebrews 11 where the author reminds his readers of the example of believers who have gone before them. Their historical example is intended to be a ‘useable past’ to encourage renewed faith and obedience.

Redwoods

That was Packer’s second point in the contrast.  If we are dwarfs and deadheads, we need to look at some examples of folks who weren’t.  So Packer turned to the English Puritans. In doing so, he crafted one of the most picturesque descriptions of Christian maturity which has come down to us:

On a narrow strip of the northern California coastline grow the giant Redwoods, the biggest living things on earth. Some are over 360 feet tall, and some trunks are more than 60 feet round. They do not have much foliage for their size; all their strength is in those huge trunks, with foot-thick bark, that rise sheer for almost half their height before branching out. Some have actually been burned, but are still alive and growing. Many hundreds of years old, over a thousand in some cases, the Redwoods are (to use a much-cheapened word in its old, strict, strong sense) awesome. They dwarf you, making you feel your smallness as scarcely anything else does. Great numbers of Redwoods were thoughtlessly felled in California’s logging days, but more recently they have come to be appreciated and preserved, and Redwood parks are today invested with a kind of sanctity. A 33-mile road winding through Redwood groves is fittingly called the Avenue of the Giants.

California’s Redwoods make me think of England’s Puritans, another breed of giants who in our time have begun to be newly appreciated. Between 1550 and 1700 they too lived unfrilled lives in which, speaking spiritually, strong growth and resistance to fire and storm were what counted.

Packer then summarized the appeal of this kind of maturity which the Puritans had:

As Redwoods attract the eye, because they overtop other trees, so the mature holiness and seasoned fortitude of the great Puritans shine before us as a kind of beacon light, overtopping the stature of the majority of Christians in most eras, and certainly so in this age of crushing urban collectivism, when Western Christians sometimes feel and often look like ants in an anthill and puppets on a string.

Douglas Firs

In Canadian churches we can pray that we would grow more like Redwoods and less like deadheads, as we seek to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with our own needy generation. Maybe a Canadian way to think about this Puritan-like goal would be to swap the picture of Redwoods for Douglas Firs.

Just stop and imagine what it could be like if local churches in Canada were filled with people who were like spiritual Douglas Firs. Not one or two “Big Lonely Dougs” (like the tallest one in Port Renfrew), but a spiritual forest of godly people, with new and old growth climbing skyward. We know it will only happen if our churches send their roots deep, and we withstand many trials of wind and fire. But let us hope and pray that God would grow the church in Canada “to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4.13).

[1] J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1990), 11–12.

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The Most Important Thing in Your Future

Are you stuck right now? Or should I say are you stuck in the now?

A symptom of this is when you seem glued to ‘the feed’ whether Facebook, Twitter or your social media of choice. You stare at it fearing you might miss out if you don’t scroll a bit more. Life in the now is just a merry-go-round. Up, down, round and round without any sense of destination or destiny. ID-1006096

We can forget about the future and only be caught up in the whirlwind of the now. But consider what is the most important thing in the future. Your future.

Don Carson has the answer to that hefty question:

In our generation, which reflects too little on the future and almost never on eternity, it is distressingly obvious that we need help, help from God, so as to be able to know the hope to which we have been called. Only then will we become more interested in living with eternity’s values constantly before our eyes. What we will have to show before the great King on the last day will be infinitely more important to us than what we leave behind here. (A Call to Spiritual Reformation)

Are you ‘living with eternity’s values constantly before your eyes?’

Start thinking about your future. And what is the most important thing in your future.

Heart Work and Liturgical Fidgets

preachingBut we neglect to prepare our hearts; for, as the Puritans would have been the first to tell us, thirty seconds of private prayer upon taking our seat in the church building is not time enough in which to do it. It is here that we need to take ourselves in hand. What we need at the present time to deepen our worship is not new liturgical forms or formulae, nor new hymns and tunes, but more preparatory ‘heart-work’ before we use the old ones. There is nothing wrong with new hymns, tunes, and worship styles—there may be very good reasons for them—but without ‘heart-work’ they will not make our worship more fruitful and God-honouring; they will only strengthen the syndrome that C.S. Lewis called ‘the liturgical fidgets’. ‘Heart-work’ must have priority or spiritually our worship will get nowhere.

JI Packer, Quest for Godliness, 257

A Quest for Ashes

I don’t know anything about cricket. But I knew a guy in college from Australia who said he was a cricket bowler. He was the first guy who told me about what in my frame of reference was the Stanley Cup of Cricket: The Ashes. But like England’s historic quest for the Ashes of its cricket reputation, there has been a quest for the ashes of evangelical spirituality.

Credit: Praying Man by Vittore Carpaccio (1466-1525), Wikipedia

Credit: Praying Man by Vittore Carpaccio (1466-1525), Wikipedia

This spiritual quest has lead Evangelicals into the practice of observing Ash Wednesday. Carl Trueman gets to the heart of it when he says:

I also fear that it speaks of a certain carnality: The desire to do something which simply looks cool and which has a certain ostentatious spirituality about it. As an act of piety, it costs nothing yet implies a deep seriousness. In fact, far from revealing deep seriousness, in an evangelical context it simply exposes the superficiality, eclectic consumerism and underlying identity confusion of the movement.[Read the rest]

What is troubling is that the Protestant tradition has a great depth of spirituality, yet it is almost entirely ignored.

Is it me, or is the Reformed Resurgence/ Young, Restless, Reformed moving away from an awareness of what even the previous Calvinistic generation was reading and feeding on?

I may be wrong, but I don’t hear as much about the Banner of Truth’s Puritan Paperbacks, or a memoir like Robert Murray M’Cheyne’s. The preference seems to be for distillations from modern authors and bloggers.

A void develops in Protestant Evangelical spirituality if the resources of one’s own tradition are ignored. Into that void the mysticism of medieval Roman Catholic practice finds a welcome home. Trueman called it an ‘eclectic consumerism’ and many of the most pious Protestant believers through the ages would likely say the same thing.

Is the advocacy of Lenten observance a bellwether of ignorance in Protestant spirituality? I think so. But it may mark a marginalizing of preaching. Consider the thought of Martyn Lloyd-Jones in Preaching and Preachers:

It has been illuminating to observe these things; as preaching has declined, these other things have been emphasized; and it has all been done quite deliberately. It is part of the reaction against  preaching; and people have felt that it is more dignified to pay this greater attention to the ceremonial, and form, and ritual (24).

We are like the shallow planted tree when the west wind blows. The rapidity of change is so great that the slender connections to deep things are exposed.  With cords and braces we try to prop up what will eventually come down.

Only sending down a vigorous taproot can stave off the winds of change. Without it, we will be only have our Ash Wednesdays and a disconnected scaffold of traditions devoid of life and fruit.