My condolences go out to the family of James Earl Raper. Brother Raper went to be with the Lord this past week at the age of 91. He was the first Free Will Baptist pastor I ever had.
Remembering Elbert
This past Wednesday marked the fifteenth anniversary of the passing of my grandfather, Elbert Harwell Hicks. He died after an extended battle with lung cancer. I had just begun my first vocational ministry role a few hours north when he went to be with the Lord. Thankfully, I was in the next room when he breathed his last.
In my mind’s eye, I still see him in his rocking chair by the window reading the Bible. Here is how I described this in my eulogy at his funeral:
He engaged the words on each page so deeply that he would mouth the words almost aloud. So with great regularity and faithfulness he read and meditated on the Scriptures. Now that is impressive enough, but what really is impressive is no matter how loud Trey and I got as we played on the floor, and as we ran around the house, he was not deterred from the Word. That time was set aside and committed to God. Now if we wanted to watch Bugs Bunny, he was more than happy to take out a VHS tape (you all do remember VHS tapes don’t you?) and put it in the VCR. But he continued to read despite Elmer Fudd’s annoying stutter on the television. In fact, the only television Granddaddy ever watched was the Laurence Welk Show. As a kid, I couldn’t figure out what in the world he found appealing about that show! Anyway, even when Trey and I discovered those little cap guns that the IGA used to sell and we would hide behind the furniture in the den shooting at one another, Granddaddy still read his Bible. Nothing deterred him from his time in the Word. It was a regular practice. It was an intentional activity. It was a priority.
Additionally, I reflected on his prayer life.
Many times when Trey and I would spend the night at Granddaddy and Grandma’s we would sleep in the bedroom down the corridor from their bedroom. Very seldom when we got in the bed were we really ready to settle down to sleep. So many times I would sneak quietly down the back corridor which connected our room to theirs. Every time as I would crawl down that carpeted hallway and peak into their dimly lit room I would see a familiar sight. It was granddaddy, kneeling down beside his bed praying. . . He prayed in the same way he read the Bible. His prayers were so specific and intentional, many times I could see and hear him mouthing the words of his heart. He prayed for his family, he prayed for his friends, he prayed for his church and his country. Undoubtedly he prayed for missionaries such as his dear friend Carlisle Hanna, who visited Granddaddy as often as he could over the last two years.
Aside from marking the fifteenth anniversary of Grandaddy’s death, another thing reminded me of him last week. I was preparing to preach from Matthew 11:25-30. It’s the passage in which Jesus describes himself as “gently and lowly in heart.” Dane Ortlund has written beautifully about this passage. In short, we learn that Jesus is meek, humble, approachable, and accessible. These descriptions don’t make him a “big softie,” someone who will be unable to mete out judgment at the Judgment Seat, someone who takes disobedience lightly. Yet Christ’s heart toward His children is one of tenderness. He welcomes us. He doesn’t want us to wait until we have everything under control or put together before we seek rest in Him.
These thoughts made me think of Grandaddy. He was a serious man. He worked hard. He had expectations when it came to proper preaching and teaching. He had expectations of his children and grandchildren. He did, for example, spank me more than once—which I certainly deserved. But while he had a no-nonsense side to him, he enjoyed a good laugh. He played with us. He took us fishing. And even when we got our lines tangled in a branch or root, he was patient. It’s not a stretch to say that he received great delight and pleasure from his imperfect children and grandchildren.
I want to avoid any false equivalencies in comparing Grandaddy to Jesus. There is nothing resembling “sides” in the character of Jesus. He has a unity of character—love, holiness, truth, and tenderness all perfectly one. He doesn’t have bad days. He doesn’t change his mind. But Jesus takes our sin seriously and He welcomes us to take his yoke upon us, to learn from Him, and to find rest for our souls in Him. Obviously, doing such things entails repentance—in action and spirit. Similarly, my Grandaddy lived a righteous life and expected believing family members to live righteously. But his love wasn’t conditioned upon that righteousness.
I’m sure my mother, aunts and uncles, cousins, and late Grandmother could also attest to this experience, but for me, his testimony is a gift that continues to instruct me.
Don’t Skip the Deep Stuff
In December 2020, I began preaching through the book of Matthew. I’ve written elsewhere about preaching collaboratively through books of the Bible. It’s a very rewarding ministry exercise. However, it’s a much taller order to get someone to join you in preaching a long book like Matthew! It’s a daunting commitment, even when many breaks are built in along the way. Still, having preached through Mark before, and having served (at that time) close to a decade, I felt that we were prepared to tackle a longer book—one that would take years to finish.
While I’ve had my moments of self-doubt along the way, studying Matthew with my congregation has been an incredibly rewarding experience. We’ve all been challenged in our understanding and obedience in different ways.
Part of what makes Matthew manageable is that it lends itself to many “series within series.” The larger heading or banner over this series has been “The King and the Kingdom.” However, we’ve had countless mini-series between 1:1 and now chapter twelve. The Sermon on the Mount, for example, is an obvious instance of a specific section with somewhat cohesive themes. Even so, you can focus on the Beatitudes, the Lord’s Prayer, and other parts and treat them as a series, while still connecting them to larger themes and spiritual lessons in Matthew.
Another aspect of what makes Matthew both rewarding and challenging is the theology that so many passages unfold for a congregation. You simply cannot take an expositional approach and sidestep the thorny theological issues, whether it be the virginal conception, the deity and humanity of Christ, marriage and divorce, and the eternality of judgment, just to mention a few.
Two Sundays ago, I encountered a unique passage along these lines. It provoked not just one theological question, but two. More significantly, they were theological questions that concern understudied and sometimes altogether unknown doctrines: (1) the middle knowledge of God and (2) degrees of judgment. Here’s the passage:
20 Then he began to denounce the cities where most of his mighty works had been done, because they did not repent. 21 “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. 22 But I tell you, it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you. 23 And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You will be brought down to Hades. For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. 24 But I tell you that it will be more tolerable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom than for you.” (Matthew 11:20-24; English Standard Version)
First, notice the counterfactual situation: “If the mighty works done in you had been done…they would have repented.” Similarly, “For if the mighty works done in you had been done…[Sodom] would have remained.” What is Jesus imagining here? What does He know? He knows what would have been the case in other circumstances. This is what philosophers and theologians call “counterfactuals,” circumstances that did not attain, but ones which could have been or would have been.
Counterfactuals are a greatly contested issue, especially among people wary of Molinism. Dr. Robert Picirilli has written some on this subject, and will address it again at the upcoming Theological Symposium in October. In short, we can and should affirm what Scripture teaches: God knows how things would have gone in circumstances different from the ones that actually transpired (middle knowledge). However, this isn’t the same as full-blown Molinism that will make more comprehensive claims about how God used this knowledge in eternity past.
Second, this passage also points to another overlooked doctrine referenced in two places: “It will be more bearable on the day of judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you.” And, “I tell you that it will be more tolerable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom than for you.” Just as there are degrees of reward in eternity, there are degrees of punishment.
Like counterfactual knowledge, some are troubled by this. We see Scripture refer to us being judged “by our works” (see 2 Cor. 5:10). And we certainly understand those works to refer to the fruit which flowed from our sincere faith. But judged according to knowledge?
Indeed, Jesus seems to teach four related truths that can be summed up in two propositions: “The greater the knowledge, the greater the accountability. The greater the rejection, the greater the judgment.” In no way does affirming such a teaching mean that hell will lose its horror for those who perhaps never heard the Gospel. In their experience, it will be a horror beyond imagination—just as the New Testament pictures it. However, in some sense, the horror of having known about and then rejected Jesus will exceed it by comparison.
This teaching doesn’t minimize the plight of “less-informed people,” nor does it diminish our obligations in the Great Commission. If anything, the passage heightens those, for it tells us of people who, had they heard, “would have repented in sackcloth and ashes.” In other words, there are many who haven’t heard who would believe. If this is the case, how much more urgent and hopeful should we be in our evangelism?
Expositional preaching and teaching will inevitably unfold little-known or altogether unknown doctrines. And when we encounter these, we should make much of them since they make a difference in the way we think of and follow Jesus.
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The way we can help those who are skeptical of the church is by loving them, standing up for them, and doing our best to be trustworthy. But we can do that only if those of us who are called to stay and stand don’t give up. We owe it to those who are losing hope to hold up hope for them.
Hope does not appear out of nowhere. "Hope that is seen is not hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?" the apostle Paul wrote. "But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently" (Rom. 8:24–25). Moreover, Paul wrote, hope comes through suffering—for "suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame" (Rom. 5:3–5).
Hope is not a public relations or marketing strategy. Hope doesn’t dismiss those who are suffering or struggling to endure. But even as we endure, even as we hope, we can find ourselves growing numb to the ways that God is not only shaking up his church but also building it, reforming it, and reshaping it.
Sometimes God refreshes our hope by giving us a little flash of awareness of what’s happening beyond our sight. Sometimes we need a random conversation to see just how bright his glory still glows.
This also means we should not stop letting ourselves be amazed by grace or surprised by joy. Whether loudly or quietly, let’s not quit.