I think it is vital to know a few things about the place from which I am writing about infant baptism. First and quite frankly, the baby-baptizing world was foreign and weird and made no sense. Isn’t baptism only for those that make a profession of faith? Isn’t baptism, by definition, merely a public profession to the world of your faith in Jesus? It was not until I found myself in the Reformed church world that I had to start thinking about infant baptism because I learned that it is not just the Catholics baptizing babies. It is Lutherans, Methodists, and Presbyterians too, to name a few.
If we think it’s right for our preacher to be demonstrative, why can’t our musicians? Would we want our preacher to preach in a way similar to a scarecrow about to fall asleep mid-sermon? If we think it’s right for our preacher to sometimes be quiet and sometimes be loud, why can’t our music sometimes be quiet and sometimes be loud? Would we want sermons to be so monotone we can’t help but be put to sleep?
Henry Louis Mencken was born in 1880, lived into the 1950s, and was highly influential in journalism. He was a critic of American literature and had a pervasive sarcastic humor. I bring him up because he took a famous shot at puritanism, describing their attitude in life. Puritans were Christians in the 16th/17th century marked by spiritual fervor. Mencken famously described them, “Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”
I recently watch the 2006 movie by Zach Snyder, 300. The movie pays tribute in dramatic style to Spartan warriors of old. Spartan culture was marked by military training and toughness. At 7 years old boys entered a state-sponsored education system that included military training. At 20, Spartan men became full-time soldiers and were on active duty until age 60. But I must warn you, the movie is violent, messy, and a bloodbath. But it’s not random violence. The movie is moving due to the reason for the violence Spartan warriors were able to dole out. And I must warn you, the story this article will consider is violent, messy, and a bloodbath. But the key is knowing the reason, the purpose behind the violence.
We periodically need sermons on the biblical topic of joy. We need to hear that joy is real. We need to know what joy is. We need to hear, especially, that joy is possible. It’s possible in the pain, the suffering, and the darkness of life. But in this cultural moment we are not just asking whether joy is possible. Many of us are being forced to ask, is joy still permissible? Are we allowed to be happy about anything anymore? This is what I mean and this is what forces us to ask that question.
As a Christian, are you realizing your sin is worse than you think? Are you realizing that the power of sin is more powerful than you ever thought? Good. That means you are understanding sin more biblically. Commenting on Israel’s insatiable pull towards sin in the book of Judges, Dale Ralph Davis comments…
In much of medieval preaching, the Law and Gospel were so confused that the “Good News” seemed to be that Jesus was a “kinder, gentler Moses,” who softened the Law into easier exhortations, such as loving God and neighbor from the heart.
If you’re stranded on an island it would be immensely comforting to come across footprints. To know simply that, at the very least, someone else has suffered what we are suffering is comforting. “Travelers have been delighted to see the footprint of man on a barren shore, and we love to see the waymarks of pilgrims while passing through the vale of tears.” The book of Psalms in the Bible are footprints on a barren shore for us.
Says things like, “Mr. Law, I am a sinner. What are you going to do about it?” Abandon the Law, Luther will say, and rest in the grace of God. Because the Law is purposed by God to send us to Christ for salvation, whenever Satan uses it to scare us he is really doing us a great service. Luther writes, “In accusing me of being a damnable sinner, you are cutting your own throat, Satan.”
