Is Everything Filthy Rags?

Mike Leake

isaiah-64-6-meaningImagine being able to transport back in time to late 18th century England. And you’re sitting around a table with some of the brightest evangelical minds of the day. Each week one of the ministers proposes a topic and they discuss it together.

You may not be as big of a nerd as I am. I would totally geek out for the opportunity to sit in those rooms and listen to these men discuss Scripture and the pressing issues of their day. That is why one of my favorite books is The Thought of the Evangelical Leaders: Notes of the Discussions of the Eclectic Society London during the Years 1798-1814.

The discussion I read today was proposed by Henry Foster. Foster was studying Philippians 3:8 and believe that most of the commentaries that he was reading were wrong. Foster believed that when Paul spoke of “everything a loss” this included even his works after becoming a believer.

“All our righteousness are but as filthy rags” noted Foster. And he believed Paul was saying that whatever attainments he had—even those produced by the Spirit—were as nothing in the sight of God.

Foster’s View Alive in Our Day

I’ve heard Foster’s view repeated often in our own day. In fact, I would almost be persuaded to argue that his view is the dominant view in more Reformed circles. It is often argued that we are but filthy worms and everything we produce is but filthy rags.

Have you ever heard someone say, “the human heart is an idol factory”? That’s part of a quote from John Calvin:

From this we may gather that man’s nature, so to speak, is a perpetual factory of idols…Man’s mind, full as it is of pride and boldness, dares to imagine a god according to its own capacity; as it sluggishly plods, indeed is overwhelmed with the crassest ignorance, it conceives an unreality and an empty appearance as God.” –John Calvin, Institutes, 1.11.8

But is this an accurate view of the heart and righteous acts of a redeemed person? Is our heart still an idol factory? Is everything we produce as believers still nothing but filthy rags in the sight of God?

An Answer From John Venn

I’ve argued that Calvin’s idol factory is an appropriate image for the unregenerate. But it is not an entirely appropriate illustration for the heart of a believer. We are, as it were, under new ownership. We might still produce idols but it’s now considered a defect. There is a better image. Is Your Heart An Idol Factory?

And I think John Venn’s answer to Foster is also helpful on this point. Venn says,

We must take care not to extend the meaning of this expression, all things, beyond the rest of the passage. There is a material difference between the works wrought before and after justification…He would not use such a degrading expression as dung to describe the works wrought by the Spirit. Since his great end was to attain the power of the Spirit on him, is it likely that he would count the Spirit’s graces, though wrought in him imperfectly, so low? (Eclectic Society, 319)

I think Venn is correct. We need to stop debasing the Spirit’s work in our lives. The Spirit of God within us isn’t producing righteousness that is nothing but filthy rags. It is actually God-honoring works which are being produced by the Spirit in our life.

Does God Answer the Prayer of Unbelievers?

Mike Leake

ben-white-ReEqHw2GyeI-unsplashIt’s always interesting for me to read things I wrote a few years ago. I don’t think I’ve changed all that much—but there are subtle shifts in my theology and certain emphasis today that weren’t present back in 2017.

I noticed this when my editor for Crosswalk approached me with a request to rewrite and lengthen a piece I wrote back in 2017.

Does God Answer the Prayers of an Unbeliever?

I had to add about 800 words to that piece to create the new piece. I changed the introduction and I also reframed it a little. I don’t necessarily agree with MacArthur or others who use John 9:31 or Isaiah 59:2 to argue that God doesn’t hear the prayer of an unbeliever.

I still believe that we are asking the wrong question here. And I still don’t think we have firm ground to stand upon to say that God does answer the prayer of an unbeliever.

If you’re interested you can check out the new version of this article here:

Does God Answer the Prayers of Unbelievers?

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What Is The Difference Between Tradition and Traditionalism?

Mike Leake

B_R_fiddlerGuy: “I hate tradition!”
Same Guy: “I want to leave a legacy.”

Tradition often gets a bad wrap. And sometimes deservedly so. But tradition can actually have a positive impact on our well-being. Tradition can help us to stay grounded. I appreciate these words from Donna Rockwell, writing for Psych Alive:

Understanding that I do not live in a vacuum, that this period of time is connected to all other periods of time — those that preceded me and those that will come after — I become part of something larger than myself, part of the eternal mystery, taking my place in the fabric of life itself. It is during the holidays that our unique cultural traditions have the greatest potential to help in this process of self-definition, to contribute to well being, and to cultivate an all-important sense of belonging and a healthy perspective of our place in the world.

But we also know the dangers of tradition. You could almost argue that Jesus was crucified because of tradition gone bad. Part of their hatred of him was because he eschewed their traditions. He was new wine into old wineskins.

So, is tradition good or bad?

I love this quote from Os Guinness (or maybe John Seel):

Tradition as the living faith of the dead and traditionalism as the dead faith of the living are two very distinct things. –Os Guinness, No God But God, 19

This helps us to see the difference between tradition and traditionalism. Tradition is when the living faith of another is passed down to a present generation. In this sense, tradition is a good thing. It’s the guy saying he wants to leave a legacy. If that legacy is grounded in Christ, then it’s a good thing.

But if the living faith is not passed on to the next generation then tradition quickly becomes traditionalism. We go through the motions and mimic what our ancestors did, we fight to keep the outward expressions alive, but we have no part in the inner faith that gave rise to those outward expressions.

At this point tradition becomes deadly because it’s the “dead faith of living” but it is still masquerading as the legitimate thing. It carries the same name but it has lost its heart. It’s a zombie.

Andy Crouch, in his book Playing God, tells of the impact of zombie institutions:

Zombie institutions are institutions that have not faced the truth about their own failure. And because of their access to privilege—their ability to continue collecting rent—they continue to exist, crowding out institutions that might create true shalom. Zombie institutions are dedicated first and only to their own preservation, not to anyone’s flourishing. (Crouch, Playing God, 199)

He then speaks of zombie churches:

Because every church is built and sustained by volunteers, almost every church was at some point a thriving institution that contributed to real flourishing. But over time the imperatives of self-preservation can create a risk-averse culture that prevents continued learning and growth. Zombie churches exist to keep the lights on rather than to be the light in dark places; they turn inward rather than outward; they serve insiders and ignore outsiders. (Crouch, Playing God, 199-200)

What is the difference between tradition and traditionalism?

One word.

Life.

Being Angry And Doing Angry

Mike Leake

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“Do you do well to be angry?” –Jonah 4:4

I’ve found that those who struggle with the sin of anger tend to almost always answer this question in the affirmative. They feel angry, they have been wronged, their sense of justice is awakened, and they conclude that they ought to be angry.

Jonah was an angry man. And he came to the conclusion that his anger was justified—in fact, he was justified in anger to the point of death.

I share this about Jonah because it’s important to acknowledge this as we enter into Mark 3:1-6. That passage is filled with anger. The Pharisees are angry and Jesus is angry. But they are angry about different things and as we will see their anger leads to different results.

If I’m like Jonah, I will enter into this story and assume that my anger is like that of Jesus—righteous. But in reality it’s more akin to that of the Pharisees. How can I tell which kind of anger I have?

The Anger of the Pharisees

Why are the Pharisees so angry? What do they have against Jesus? Shouldn’t they be rejoicing that a man was healed in one of their services?

They are angry because they believe that Jesus has run roughshod over the Law of God. Somewhere along the way they had come to the conclusion that healing is a “work”. And work shouldn’t be done on the Sabbath. You could heal something that was life threatening, but if it wasn’t life-threatening then your issue could wait until it wasn’t the Sabbath.

The Pharisees, like Jonah, believe that their anger is justified. In their mind they are the ones who are honoring God. He is dangerous.

This blaspheming Sabbath breaker is gaining popularity and if they are about protecting the people, protecting the nation, and protecting themselves, then they need to stop this guy. If Jesus is allowed to keep teaching this stuff and leading people astray then God is going to be displeased with them. They’ll end up in exile. They’ll end up even further harmed by the Romans. This isn’t good. So for the sake of God’s kingdom and the sake of Israel this man must be stopped.

Their anger leads them to self-protection. It leads them to use a suffering and vulnerable man as a pawn to trap what they perceive as a threat. And it ultimately leads them to plot murder on the Sabbath, all in the name of the Lord.

Contrast this with Jesus…

The Anger of Jesus

The anger of Jesus is different than that of the Pharisees. His anger is a heartbroken type of anger. Their hardness of heart, that leads to the ill-treatment of this man, has him angry.

I think Spurgeon says it well:

He was heartbroken because their hearts were so hard. As Manton puts it, “He was softened because of their hardness.” His was not the pitiless flame of wrath which burns in a dry eye; he had tears as well as anger. His thunder-storm brought a shower of pity with it…He was grieved at their hardness because it would injure themselves; their blind enmity vexed him because it was securing their own destruction. He was angry because they were wilfully rejecting the light which would have illuminated them with heavenly brightness, the life which could have quickened them into fulness of joy. They were thus determinedly and resolutely destroying their own souls out of hatred to him, and he was angry more for their sakes than his own. (Spurgeon, Metropolitan Pulpit Sermons volume 32, 183)

His anger isn’t about self-protection. His anger is a compassionate anger.

Notice also what his anger leads to. It leads to action on behalf of another. It’s not mere words. It’s not a raging speech, a torrent of angry tweets, it’s not biting, it’s not shaming, it moves him to act for the sake of the vulnerable.

This, to me, is a good barometer of whether or not my rage is the Jonah and Pharisee type of anger, or the type of anger that was present in Jesus.

  • Is this anger propelling me towards self-protection or to protecting the vulnerable?
  • Is this anger moving me to loving action or simply words?
  • Is this anger motivating me to seek harm upon those I am angry with or am I moved with compassion and grief for them?

Conclusion

Much of what we call righteous anger isn’t really righteous. It’s about righteous things, maybe. But it’s not actually righteous. It’s often mere words and not acting upon behalf of another.

What is my anger leading me to do?

That’s how we can tell if it’s coming from Jesus or our own messed up hearts.

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