The Continuity of Public Worship.

“In the realm of worship itself, Jesus taught that postures and expression[s] which may be appropriate in private prayer are inappropriate in public because they draw attention to oneself. The setting, the street corner versus the closet, is crucial (Matthew 6:4–6). The Apostle Paul regulates the preaching, praying, singing, and sacramental practices of the church at Corinth in 1 Corinthians 10–14. He gives specific directions for when they ‘come together as a church’ (1 Corinthians 11:18). Special rules that apply when the church gathers that don't necessarily apply in ‘all of life.’ That which may be done in one's house may not be done in the assembly. In connection with the Lord’s Supper, the Apostle Paul asked directly, ‘Do you not have houses in which to eat and drink?’ (1 Corinthians 11:22). The eating which would have been appropriate at home was inappropriate in public. Also, there are questions which might be asked at home which should not be asked in the public assembly (1 Corinthians 14:35). A form of the phrase ‘when you come together’ (vv. 17–18, 20, 33–34) is used five times in 1 Corinthians 11:17–34. He cites the practice of ‘all the churches.’ He insists that the Corinthian church conform to the universal standard of the church. ‘We have no other practice,’ he says, ‘nor have the churches of God’ (1 Corinthians 11:16; cf. 14:23; 1:2; 4:17; 14:23). These rules for public worship ensure substantial continuity between the churches in there public services” (Reformed Worship, Johnson, pp. 11–12).

A Ridiculous Question.

Here's a little ol' thought experiment on the topic of God's sovereignty and man's responsibility.

Consider the following story.

Sam had a choice to make: let the innocent girl go or squeeze the trigger. He lined up his shot, steadied his breathing, and fired. She fell dead.

Riddle me this. Who is culpable for murdering the innocent girl?
Sam, of course.

Entirely?

Yes. In the story—within the confines of the creative work—Sam is 100% responsible for his actions. The miserable wretch murdered that poor lass.

But I'll ask you this. Did I, as the writer, actually become a murderer by writing about a murder?—or a murderer murdering?
No, of course not.

As the creator of the story, I am not automatically bound by the story because I am other than the story; outside of the story, I exist fully. As the author, I have the ability to pull myself—at least in part—into the confines of the story . . . or not. As for Sam, he was the one who pulled the trigger; he was the murderer.

Note, though, that Sam's very existence, his choices, his decision, the innocent girl, the gun, Sam's aim, his breath, the operations of the gun, ignition, gravity, culpability, the rule of law—the course of the story and all of its constituents—are all my creation. So why am I not culpable for the murder? Because I didn't make myself culpable. As the writer, I can do that. What I write is other than me; it operates under me on the plane of my story, and I, in the first order, do not.

So who created the innocent girl and created her innocent?
I did.

Who created Sam, and the gun, and Sam's actions?
I did.

Who determined that the girl would die?
I did.

Because I wrote the story, are Sam's choices not really his own? Have I restricted his choices by determining what they will be? No. In fact, the more things I write about Sam—the more freedom I give his character—the more freedom he actually has. As I expand his world, his opportunities expand. Notice, however, that the only freedom he has is the freedom I give him. Conversely, the less freedom I give Sam the less freedom he actually has. Sam—the very existence of this “Sam” guy—is fully dependent upon me in every way and at every point.

So did Sam have a choice? Of course he had a choice: I gave him one. But notice that he only had a choice because I gave him one.  Sam's freedom in the course of the story is real freedom. But the story and all of its constituents—including the genuine freedom contained within it—are completely, exhaustively dependent upon the free choices of the creator: me. Is there any chance—any chance at all—that the characters of the story could alter the course of the story apart from my creative efforts? No, none whatever. The characters, their entire world, their history—everything—only exists because I chose to make it, and I made it, and I made it the way I chose to make it. Was any part of the story unforeseen by its creator? Of course not. Beginning, middle, and end—every strand, every element—were my doing. Everything that did exist, existed because I wrote it; and everything that didn't exist, didn't exist because I didn't write it.

But let's shift the situation a bit.

Sam was about to put his gun away, but Mike came up behind him, pointed the weapon in Sam's hand at the innocent girl, and squeezed Sam's finger against the trigger! The gun fired, and the innocent girl fell dead.

Poor girl.

Now in this scenario, I am directly responsible for the death of the innocent girl. Sam didn't choose to shoot the girl, I did. My free choices actually operated against Sam's will. Sam was just my puppet; he only did what I made him do. But notice that, as the creator, the only way I can actually be culpable for murdering the girl is if I write myself into the story as her murderer.

But, of course, I wouldn't really want to keep that version of the story, would I? (Like I said: poor girl.) If I am just—righteous—and, say, wished to reveal myself to the characters in the story, then I would only do it in such a way that consistently reflected my true nature; in a way that accurately described my actual being, my values, my character. I could write a good story that contains all manner of things that I condemn and maintain a morally sufficient reason for doing so. That's what good writers do.  And if that is the case with me, a sub-creator, then how much more is it the case with the Creator and how He reveals Himself in His story: all of created reality?

So let us apply the analogy. Let us ask ourselves this: Is man responsible for his own actions, or is God exhaustively sovereign?

Let me suggest that the answer must be a resounding, Yes. Not a mix, not parts of each, and not one or the other—both. Without God's exhaustive sovereignty, there are no men, no actions of men, and no responsibilities of men. All of those things are genuine—us, our wills, our actions, and our responsibilities—but only because God has already established every bit of it (Isaiah 46:10; Romans 8:28; Ephesians 1:11; Hebrews 1:3). It's inescapable. (Indeed even the concept of escapability is a component of what God has established. See? Inescapable.)

So is this—this universe, this history, this reality—just a mindless machine grinding away? No, it's the living, breathing Story. It's the Story that contains you and me and our choices and the favor—or disfavor—of the Author. It contains Heaven, and Hell, and a tree that the Word died on. It's a story pregnant with resurrection; pregnant with reconciliation.

“For of a truth against thy holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod, and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel, were gathered together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done” (Acts 4:27-28; cf. 2:23, John 19:11).

Let that sink it.

The worst crime in human history was committed by wicked men who were fully responsible for their actions . . . and the whole thing went off exactly according to God's plan. All of it.

So in light of what we've just considered, I'll ask: Did I write all of the story in which Sam murdered the innocent girl, or was Sam culpable of murdering her?

See? It's a ridiculous question.

Clap.

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of the Sons of Korah.
Clap your hands, all peoples!
Shout to God with loud songs of joy! (Psa 47:1).

Interesting.

I just noticed that the call to “clap your hands” isn't a call for simple applause or the happy-clap-along clapping one might envision. The word translated “clap” here is “taqa',” and it is elsewhere used as a way of signaling judgment, warfare, triumph, or a call to worship (often blowing a trumpet); driving a sharp object into something (like a tent peg through Sisera's head); and striking hands in a pledge.

Given the context of the entire Psalm, it seems that the people of God are called to express indignation over their enemies; the enemies of God. This clapping is perhaps both a warning and a call to worship for every nation; a call for repentance; a call for ratification or renewal of covenant with God; a signal that the battle has come to them.

After the people have “clapped” with God, they are called to “Shout to God with loud songs of joy!” The word for “shout” here is a war-cry.

So what are our marching orders? How are we to conduct ourselves in this war?

And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Mat 28:18-20).

That's how.

Notice that our goal is not to make disciples of some from every nation; baptize some from every nation; teach some from every nation. No, on the grounds of Jesus Christ having all power in heaven and earth, and on the grounds of us being in Him, we are to set our sights on the entire world; “for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea” (Isa 11:9).

Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this (Isa 9:7).

Clap.

 

Mr. Barylambda.

The stocky pantodont, Barylambda.

Cheers!

(And yes, its name does mean "God tooth." Don't ask.)

The bizarre litoptern, Theosodon sp. One of the smallest members of the family Macraucheniidae, Theosodon looked like a hodge-podge of camelid, tapirid, and rhinocerotid features. In other words, it was stinkin' awesome.

For more information about macraucheniids, check out this blog on the Ark Encounter website.

An Entelodont Blog About an Entelodont Blog.

Witness the mighty entelodont, Daeodon shoshonensis!

Now click here and read what pops up.

Cheers!

On Smelling Like Jesus.

"Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place.
"For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.
"To the one we are the aroma of death leading to death, and to the other the aroma of life leading to life. And who is sufficient for these things?
"For we are not, as so many, peddling the word of God; but as of sincerity, but as from God, we speak in the sight of God in Christ" (2 Cor 2:14-17).