This excerpt is from a summation of a message John Piper gave at the Ligonier conference in March 2007. My husband and I attended, and I took notes, which is the only way I can keep my mind disciplined. Piper listed seven destructive effects of relativism and warned us to teach our kids where this leads.
1. Relativism commits
treason against God. A revolution against the objective standard is a revolution
against God. He is the ultimate, external, objective standard, valid for all.
When relativism says there is no external, objective standard, he speaks like an
atheist and commits treason. Relativism does not come out and say, "I will not
submit to your law," he says, "There is no law." If you do not try to overcome
relativism, you are complicit in treason.
2. Relativism cultivates duplicity.
Believing relativism to be true is contradictory. Nobody tries to live
relativism consistently. It cultivates duplicity because it won't stand up
philosophically or practically. They say they believe it but they don't live it,
so it breeds hypocrisy and is morally corrupting. The very processes of thinking
commit the relativist to principles that are self-contradictory. The philosophy
is shot through with self-contradictions. It is immoral. People do not live as
relativists. A professor will teach it in a classroom, but when he gets home he
will be upset if his wife does not understand that his words mean just what he
intends to communicate to her; they have one objective meaning. You believe that
what you write has an objective meaning. Nobody is a relativist in a court room
where objective innocence hangs on objective evidence.
3. Relativism conceals
doctrinal defection. The effect on language is devastating. If you believe there
is absolute Truth, words are so very important. In a culture, where Truth is
scorned, where there is no objective external Truth, then language becomes power-broking. When objective Truth vanishes, then language is no longer the humble
servant. It creates its own reality. Language no longer defines Truth. It
defines preferences. It is not the presentation of reality, but the creation of
reality. Language has a devious capacity for concealing the truth.
When it
comes to the creeds, J. Gresham Machen said in 1925 that someone can affirm the
creeds of the church but be totally separate from the reformed faith: Language is no longer a strong
affirmation, it is saying, "I find this confession useful." Vague, indirect speech lets others
think you are still orthodox when you're not.
Relativism corrupts the high
calling of language, makes it a criminal covering doctrinal defection of those
afraid to say, "I've left the faith."
4. Relativism cloaks greed with
flattery. Flattery is using language to make people feel good so that you can
get something from them. Language must be submissive to reality. Language should
not be a pretext for greed by becoming flattery.
5. Relativism cloaks pride
in the guise of humility. Relativism looks humble but it isn't. When Truth goes,
so does humility. If there's Truth, universally valid for all men, then we must
submit to it -- "understand" it, or stand under it -- not stand over it as a
ruler. You're a servant of the Truth. What happens to your soul when you decide
it's not there? You become so humble you can't discern the Truth, therefore, you
don't put yourself under it. Relativism protects arrogance. It is the essence
of original sin -- pride. It poses as humility. It puts on humble clothes and
walks around the streets speaking of humility, but it chooses every step it
takes on that path. It says, "I WILL choose." We need many humble childlike
simple people willing to say, "The king has no humble clothes on."
6. Relativism enslaves people. The Bible says the Truth will set you free. Relativism teaches a view of Truth that makes it undefinable. Fog does not free people from sin. They stay in chains.
Relativism leads people away from a love of the truth and so enslaves them and destroys them.
7. Relativism leads to brutal totalitarianism. When relativism reigns, everyone begins to do what is right in his own eyes; no one puts themselves under the Truth. Society begins to break down. Relativism leads to chaos, and at a certain point any ruler will be welcomed who can restore order. You end up with a dictator. Relativism, while professing unfettered freedom, ultimately destroys freedom.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
John Piper on Grieving
Comforting truths from an open letter by John Piper:
"There is a paradox in the way God is honored through hope-filled grief. One might think that the only way he could be honored would be to cry less or get over the ache more quickly. That might show that your confidence is in the good that God is and the good that he does. Yes. It might. And some people are wired emotionally to experience God that way. I would not join those who say, “O they are just in denial.
"But there is another way God is honored in our grieving. When we taste the loss so deeply because we loved so deeply and treasured God’s gift — and God in his gift — so passionately that the loss cuts the deeper and the longer, and yet in and through the depths and the lengths of sorrow we never let go of God, and feel him never letting go of us — in that longer sorrow he is also greatly honored, because the length of it reveals the magnitude of our sense of loss for which we do not forsake God. At every moment of the lengthening grief, we turn to him not away from him. And therefore the length of it is a way of showing him to be ever-present, enduringly sufficient.
"So trust him deeply and let your heart be your guide, whether you honor him one way or the other. Everyone is different."
-- John Piper, Letter to a Parent Grieving the Loss of a Child
"There is a paradox in the way God is honored through hope-filled grief. One might think that the only way he could be honored would be to cry less or get over the ache more quickly. That might show that your confidence is in the good that God is and the good that he does. Yes. It might. And some people are wired emotionally to experience God that way. I would not join those who say, “O they are just in denial.
"But there is another way God is honored in our grieving. When we taste the loss so deeply because we loved so deeply and treasured God’s gift — and God in his gift — so passionately that the loss cuts the deeper and the longer, and yet in and through the depths and the lengths of sorrow we never let go of God, and feel him never letting go of us — in that longer sorrow he is also greatly honored, because the length of it reveals the magnitude of our sense of loss for which we do not forsake God. At every moment of the lengthening grief, we turn to him not away from him. And therefore the length of it is a way of showing him to be ever-present, enduringly sufficient.
"So trust him deeply and let your heart be your guide, whether you honor him one way or the other. Everyone is different."
-- John Piper, Letter to a Parent Grieving the Loss of a Child
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Ordering Our Days
Philosophy requires people to think about ultimate purposes, true happiness, justice, beauty, the good ... If people don't order their lives according to these ultimate questions, then they won't usually serve the ultimate things. They will serve the moment. They will serve whatever their particular passing appetite is. But they won't put their whole life in the service of the good. .... That is not the way to true happiness. ... We need to figure out, maybe everyday, what the highest, ultimate things are, [use those to order our lives,] and then go about doing those smaller, but still important, things.
--Terrence O. Moore
Who considers the power of your anger, and your wrath according to the fear of you? Teach us to order our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)
--Terrence O. Moore
Who considers the power of your anger, and your wrath according to the fear of you? Teach us to order our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)
Monday, April 01, 2013
Ugly Beauty
He had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
And no beauty that we should desire him.(Isaiah 53:2)
He did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped
But emptied himself by taking the form of a servant. (Phil. 2:6-7)
As always, Christ changes everything. He showed that a certain kind of ugliness has a beauty of its own. This sprang to my mind as I was talking to the proud father of a newborn baby at our church. Not that he was ugly. In fact, he was glowing with happiness as he raved about his son. He and his wife had decided that she would stay home with Baby Isaiah, so they could give him as much godly influence as possible. Their income would be cut significantly, but the choice was obvious in his mind. My heart stirred with love for this little family, knowing that with that attitude, the years ahead of them were certain to be filled with some of the most beautiful ugliness imaginable.
When our son came into our lives, our lessons in aesthetics began. First, without batting an eye, my then-unsaved husband set aside all that he was doing, which included a fair amount of partying, accompanied by some college classes, a DJ job and plans for a career. He loved that baby boy with his very life. I worked the night shift, so had full days to read and play with this bright and happy boy. But in the evening, I had to tear myself away. In John's unique way, he then took over parenting duties, fumbling through unfamiliar territory, making sure that little guy ate his green vegetables and got him into clean jammies. We took the expensive insurance off the flashyTrans Am and left it sitting unused in an empty parking space in the apartment lot. My husband never complained or even seemed to notice. When I came home from work, at 2 a.m., we had our life together again and that was all that mattered. Everything I cared about was in that little apartment, and I couldn't wait to get back to it. My husband always made me feel like I was the most important person in the world when I came home. Our parents and our church family helped us immensely, but it was John who gave up his life so we could have our family life. You could see the strength of the bond that God had forged between father and son. When Little John cut his hand at 11 months so badly that he needed stitches, he reached for Daddy and was happiest in his arms at the Emergency Room. Even though that was hard for me in one sense, I knew even then that very few sons loved their Daddy like my little guy did. Amid the blood and tears, I knew that God had done something very beautiful in my home.
In the next two years, sacrifices continued as we let my job go in favor of John's, so that I could be the one dispensing green beans and overseeing bedtime. The move meant a severe pay cut, but the benefits ... oh, the benefits. Now there were two babies to teach and cuddle and laugh and love. Over the decades, living on one income has meant that our houses have never been of the Better Homes and Garden variety, meals have rarely been elaborate. Not related to the money issue, I have managed the homemaking tasks with great effort and unimpressive results, having never been trained for such jobs. (I still can't shake Marlo Thomas' popular children's jingle, written to indoctrinate little girls to feminism: "Mommies hate housework, Daddies hate housework, and when you grow up, you'll hate housework, too!") But our home has been filled with love and laughter and imperfect pictures of self-sacrifice, service, submission to God -- and repentance. Some of the "ugliest" aspects of our life exist because we made choices we believed would glorify Christ and allow us to pass our faith on to our children. The priority for time and money was and remains Christian education, always with the aim to illuminate God in every area of study. The beauty is hidden, but it is there: in the worn carpet, the second-hand clothes, as surely as in the children whose foundation we pray is sure and solid.
Resurrection Sunday reminds me that all of that hidden beauty will eventually be revealed and all of the imperfection transformed. All that was left undone will be completed. All that was done poorly will be perfected. And all that was done for the glory of God will shine with a particular brilliance that will last for eternity.
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,[a] 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,[b] being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:1-11)
And no beauty that we should desire him.(Isaiah 53:2)
He did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped
But emptied himself by taking the form of a servant. (Phil. 2:6-7)
As always, Christ changes everything. He showed that a certain kind of ugliness has a beauty of its own. This sprang to my mind as I was talking to the proud father of a newborn baby at our church. Not that he was ugly. In fact, he was glowing with happiness as he raved about his son. He and his wife had decided that she would stay home with Baby Isaiah, so they could give him as much godly influence as possible. Their income would be cut significantly, but the choice was obvious in his mind. My heart stirred with love for this little family, knowing that with that attitude, the years ahead of them were certain to be filled with some of the most beautiful ugliness imaginable.
When our son came into our lives, our lessons in aesthetics began. First, without batting an eye, my then-unsaved husband set aside all that he was doing, which included a fair amount of partying, accompanied by some college classes, a DJ job and plans for a career. He loved that baby boy with his very life. I worked the night shift, so had full days to read and play with this bright and happy boy. But in the evening, I had to tear myself away. In John's unique way, he then took over parenting duties, fumbling through unfamiliar territory, making sure that little guy ate his green vegetables and got him into clean jammies. We took the expensive insurance off the flashyTrans Am and left it sitting unused in an empty parking space in the apartment lot. My husband never complained or even seemed to notice. When I came home from work, at 2 a.m., we had our life together again and that was all that mattered. Everything I cared about was in that little apartment, and I couldn't wait to get back to it. My husband always made me feel like I was the most important person in the world when I came home. Our parents and our church family helped us immensely, but it was John who gave up his life so we could have our family life. You could see the strength of the bond that God had forged between father and son. When Little John cut his hand at 11 months so badly that he needed stitches, he reached for Daddy and was happiest in his arms at the Emergency Room. Even though that was hard for me in one sense, I knew even then that very few sons loved their Daddy like my little guy did. Amid the blood and tears, I knew that God had done something very beautiful in my home.
In the next two years, sacrifices continued as we let my job go in favor of John's, so that I could be the one dispensing green beans and overseeing bedtime. The move meant a severe pay cut, but the benefits ... oh, the benefits. Now there were two babies to teach and cuddle and laugh and love. Over the decades, living on one income has meant that our houses have never been of the Better Homes and Garden variety, meals have rarely been elaborate. Not related to the money issue, I have managed the homemaking tasks with great effort and unimpressive results, having never been trained for such jobs. (I still can't shake Marlo Thomas' popular children's jingle, written to indoctrinate little girls to feminism: "Mommies hate housework, Daddies hate housework, and when you grow up, you'll hate housework, too!") But our home has been filled with love and laughter and imperfect pictures of self-sacrifice, service, submission to God -- and repentance. Some of the "ugliest" aspects of our life exist because we made choices we believed would glorify Christ and allow us to pass our faith on to our children. The priority for time and money was and remains Christian education, always with the aim to illuminate God in every area of study. The beauty is hidden, but it is there: in the worn carpet, the second-hand clothes, as surely as in the children whose foundation we pray is sure and solid.
Resurrection Sunday reminds me that all of that hidden beauty will eventually be revealed and all of the imperfection transformed. All that was left undone will be completed. All that was done poorly will be perfected. And all that was done for the glory of God will shine with a particular brilliance that will last for eternity.
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,[a] 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,[b] being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:1-11)
Limitations
The men we consider the most evil --such as Hitler or Stalin -- were man who had unfettered power. What would you be like if you had such power? By God's grace, most of us are not granted that. We can stand back and judge these dictators from afar, labeling them evil monsters, but we might very well be just as evil given the same set of circumstances.
The same point can be made about gifts: God is also gracious to limit our talents. If we were the best -- at anything -- what kind of monster might we become? How many people who are the best in their field do you even want to be around?
Powerlessness and inadequacy are not normally at the top of my thanksgiving list, but today my heart overflows for these gracious restraints.
The same point can be made about gifts: God is also gracious to limit our talents. If we were the best -- at anything -- what kind of monster might we become? How many people who are the best in their field do you even want to be around?
Powerlessness and inadequacy are not normally at the top of my thanksgiving list, but today my heart overflows for these gracious restraints.
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