ON THE TRINITY AND SELFLESSNESS

Today I received an email from a friend who asked:

Thinking Trinitarian[ly], is not God selfless in regards to the Persons, but not the substance. IOW, does not the Father see the Son and see God, or see the image of His ousia as the Son is His image and love the Son because whatever is of the divine ousia is worthy of love? Thus, the Trinity is oriented teleologically towards itself and selflessly away from the Persons' selves?

I basically answered:

Good question. Here are my thoughts (heavily influenced by Edwardsian ethics):

What is selflessness?

If it is a self having regard for another self without regard for itself, then I think it is impossible for a moral being to be selfless. Here's what I mean.

Morality is valuing what is truly valuable in a degree proportionate to the degree of its value. Another way to speak of morality--indeed the most foundational--is through the concept of love. Love is valuing what is truly valuable in a degree proportionate to the degree of its value. Therefore, if God is moral, if he is love, then he must value himself supremely. The morality of God, the love of God, is expressed eternally as triunity. The love of the Father for the Son is the love of God for himself. And the love of the Son for the Father is the love of God for himself. It is the same divine self-love in both cases. I don't know how to conceive of a love between the persons of God that does not have divine self-love at its root.

For creatures, if we are to be morally upright, if we are to love righteously, then we must love God supremely. But even creaturely love for God is not selfless. Loving God must necessarily entail loving ourselves since we bear his image.

Therefore, morality is fundamentally grounded in self-love, whether that love is ordered properly (i.e. righteousness) or not (i.e. sin). Properly ordered self-love acknowledges love for God as its basis. Improperly ordered self-love trades its true basis, love for God, for another which is idolatry.

CRITIQUING BEN WITHERINGTON'S COMMENTS AGAINST GOD BEING HIS OWN END IN ALL HE DOES (pt. 4)

Continued from part 3 . . .

One commenter asks Dr. Witherington (under this post):

You wrote that "God’s character is essentially other directed self-sacrificial love." I totally agree with that. Even before creation God’s love was other oriented. The intra-Trinitarian love that the Father has for the Son, and the Son for the Father, has always been other oriented. We are told multiple times that the Father loves the son. And it seems that this intra-Trinitarian love is the basis for God’s love for us. “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you”. Since the intra-Trinitarian love is other oriented (the Father wants to glorify the Son and the Son wants to obey the Father) and because God is one, is there not a way in which God’s love for the Son is also a self love or a self focus?

How would that relate to God’s love for us? Is there a way in which God’s love for us is related to God’s self love or a self focus?

For God to admit that he is not the center of everything is hard for me to understand. It seems against the very thing that makes him God.

Dr. Witherington responds:

And while we are at it-- the Trinity is certainly not solely self-referential. In particular NT Christology is a clear refutation of this-- Christ came for our benefit and our behalf to rescue us. A by product of that is that God is glorified by such actions-- but the purpose of the coming and the object of the action was not either for God to add to his impressive resume, nor to bump up the praise quotient so God could have more glory.

Overlooking Dr. Witherington's resume building and praise quotient rhetoric, I'm not sure what he means by "solely self-referential." The Calvinist theologians of which I am aware have never asserted that God is solely self-referential. They have asserted that God is ultimately self-referential. If Witherington means to use the phrase solely in a sense distinct from ultimacy, then the point is moot. But if he means it in the same sense, then the fundamental reasoning behind his comment is this:

(1) Ultimate divine self-reference (UDSR) (i.e. God's being his own ultimate end in all he does) precludes him from acting for the benefits of his creatures.
(2) And Christ came for the benefit of his creatures.
(3) Therefore God cannot be ultimately self-referential.

The fallacy with this reasoning is that it misunderstands the Calvinist view of UDSR. The Calvinist view is not that UDSR precludes God from acting for the benefit of his creatures. Certainly God acts for the benefit of his creatures. The Calvinist view is that God's motivations are both unified and diverse. The triune God is both simple and complex. Let's take a very brief look at each aspect in turn.
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On the unity of God's will:

The language of ultimacy or primacy is typically employed by Calvinist theologians to describe the unity of God's will. God has one unified or ultimate purpose: himself. In other words, he is ultimately his own end in all he does.

On the diversity of God's will:

But that one unified purpose subsumes a diversity of other subordinate purposes. The coming of Christ for the benefit of his creatures is understood to be included in the purposes of God subordinately. In other words, the salvation of elect creatures is a purpose of God that serves the ultimate purpose. But it is, nonetheless, a distinct purpose.
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I have written more extensively on the ultimate/subordinate distinction, particularly Jonathan Edwards's articulation of it, here.

In conclusion, one biblical example of the unity and diversity of God's purposes is found in the beginning of the high priestly prayer recorded in John 17:1-2.

When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.

Here we see in the first bold section the Lord Jesus acknowledging the ultimate purpose of God in all things--himself. He prays, "glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you."

And in the second bold section we see the Lord Jesus acknowledging a subordinate purpose of God--the salvation of the elect--which is subsumed under the ultimate. He prays, "to give eternal life to all whom you have given him."

Stay tuned for part 5 . . .

FRIDAY EDWARDS QUOTE: Did Father Abraham Participate in the Lord's Supper?

In sermon 4 of Jonathan Edwards's A History of the Work of Redemption (Yale, vol. 9), Edwards begins to teach on the period of redemptive history from Abraham to Moses. He presents several evidences from the Biblical account that demonstrate the fact that Abraham received the covenant of grace from God. One evidence is that Abraham celebrated a proto-Lord's Supper with Melchizedek, King of Salem (Shalom, peace). He writes:

Another remarkable confirmation Abraham received the covenant of grace was when he returned from the slaughter of the kings, when Melchizedek, the king of Salem, the priest of the most high God, that great type of Christ, met him and blessed him and brought forth bread and wine. The bread and wine signified the same blessings of the covenant of grace that the bread and wine does in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. So that as Abraham had a seal of the covenant in circumcision that was equivalent to baptism, so now he had a seal of it equivalent to the Lord's Supper. And Melchizedek's coming to meet him with such a seal of the covenant of grace on the occasion of this victory of his over the kings of the earth, confirms that that victory was a pledge of God's fulfillment of the same covenant; for that is the mercy that Melchizedek with his bread and wine takes notice of, as you may see by what he says, Gen. 14:19-20.

Genesis 14:19-20 reads:

And he blessed him, and said, Blessed be Abram of the most high God, possessor of heaven and earth: And blessed be the most high God, which hath delivered thine enemies into thy hand. And he gave him tithes of all.

BOOK REVIEW: The Wages of Spin (pt. 1)

I just finished Carl Trueman's book The Wages of Spin: Critical Writings on Historic & Contemporary Evangelicalism (Christian Focus Publications, 2004). It is collection of essays offering a historical theological evaluation of contemporary issues facing evangelicalism. As expected, Trueman does not disappoint.

The book has two parts: (1) "Evangelical Essays" and (2) "Short, Sharp Shocks." In part one Trueman offers penetrating analyses of the decline of historic Christian orthodoxy in evangelicalism. Beginning with the Enlightenment, Trueman traces the germination and growth of anti-historical tendencies in Western thought in an essay entitled, "Reckoning with the Past in an Anti-Historical Age." He writes:

As the Enlightenment downgraded history and tradition by stigmatizing them with the language of obscurantism and reaction, and as consumerism has made space for history only as a marketing opportunity in the shape of theme parks and nostalgia shops, so much recent philosophy has labeled history as yet another surreptitious attempt to exert power under the guise of objective truth. Taken together, the voracious appetite for novelty and innovation that marks advanced consumerist societies, and the inveterate cynicism of the modern world, whether expressed in popular political apathy or sophisticated postmodern theories, have proved to be a potent anti-historical, anti-traditional combination.

Trueman goes on to demonstrate how this anti-historical, anti-traditional bias has impacted the church through its loss of liturgical practice in a broad sense--by which he means "the kind of songs that are sung, prayers that are prayed, and sermons that are preached"--and its grasping for historically misinformed "traditions" in order to rejuvenate its spirituality. According to Trueman, the Reformed tradition is in a good position to fill the historical/traditional void. Two theses are offered in support.

First, the Reformed faith emphasizes the idea that God is a speaking God. It is a Word-based tradition. Enlightenment skepticism has seeped into the church undermining propositional truth claims and unduly emphasizing the visual over the verbal. Confessionalism has been jettisoned for flights of mysticism and artistic expression. The deconstructionist's "death of the author" has become the nihilist's "death of God" leaving the church with an intense sociological pressure to sacrifice its epistemology on the anvil of cultural relevance. The Reformed emphasis on the Word of God as the basis of epistemology is an appropriate answer to this problem.

Second, the Reformed faith has a great appreciation for history and tradition (God is a God who acts in history). While some might paint the Reformed tradition with the broad brush of sectarianism, Trueman argues that it is the furthest thing from it. The Reformers were very much appreciative of and conversant with the early and medieval Christianity. They did not break away from the catholic tradition wholesale. Instead, they viewed themselves as Reformed Catholics, historically and confessionally connected to the Western and early church traditions. Furthermore, the covenant theology fleshed out by Calvin's successors, Trueman argues, is fundamentally concerned with God's acts in history to redeem his people.

It is one of the strengths of Reformed theology that it sees the biblical history as witnessing to the actions of a single God who is committed to the salvation of his people through the Messiah who marks the culmination of the history of his people. While there are manifest problems in extending this approach to our reading of post-biblical history, the notion of covenant, the place of families and children within our understanding of the church, and the centrality of the sacraments to our worship, all reinforce the importance of continuity with God's saving actions throughout history. As soon as sight is lost of this historical dimension to God's action, then there will be a tendency towards mysticism and individualism and all sight is lost of the real significance of the church as the covenant community of the God who rules over history and works within history.

[Barth and his followers would not appreciate Trueman's regard for the importance of history with respect to theology, but I find it refreshing.]

Trueman continues:

In short, without God as its author, history becomes meaningless, as do the lives of all those who make up history. All that is left is the unchained and autonomous individual in the present. The way we worship becomes whatever suits us here and now; and our theology becomes whatever we think the Bible means or whatever the latest scholarly consensus tells us it means. In short, we lose any perspective from which to be self-critical.

[Perhaps we should consider whether the philosophies Trueman is arguing against are in fact intended for the purpose of avoiding self-criticism. Perhaps the Enlightenment ideal of the autonomous individual is just another evidence of the lengths God's rebellious image bearers will go to avoid entertaining any thoughts of accountability to a personal and holy God.]

Trueman concludes:

Why, then, should we study the Reformed faith today? The answer is because it offers the most effective and biblical antidote to the forces around us which most threaten Christianity. These are Western materialist consumerism and its concomitant ideologies of the superiority of the new and the rejection of the old. The cultural war around us is, at a very deep level, a war against history and thus against the God who works in and through history. In this context the Reformed faith sets forth the theological importance of history with supreme clarity; it also offers us a framework for doing justice not just to biblical history but also to church tradition.

Stay tuned for part 2 . . .

FRIDAY EDWARDS QUOTE: A Sober Assessment of Religious Revival

Apologies for missing the last two weeks of entries in this series. The convergence of holiday travels and newborn feedings has been a bit draining and consumed much of my "free" time. But God has been good to us. Our travels were relatively uneventful and our little Joanna is growing more beautiful by the hour.

Today I read a bit of Michael Haykin's excellent book A Sweet Flame: Piety in the Letters of Jonathan Edwards. Chapter 7 is a letter Edwards wrote from Northampton, MA on May 12, 1743 to a Scottish Presbyterian minister named James Robe. In it he discusses what he views as the waning influence of the Spirit of God among the churches in New England where there had recently been a great revival.

The revival, sometimes referred to as the First Great Awakening, was controversial. There were excesses and abuses. Those called the "old lights" viewed it as enthusiastic extremism, a sort of zeal without knowledge. They didn't view the revival as good in any sense. Others, called the "new lights," cautiously viewed it as a true work of the Spirit mixed with abuses. Edwards was sympathetic to the new lights. Through his preaching and writing Edwards attempted to understand what was truly a work of the Spirit of God, so that he might warn against abuses and promote true revival (see Edwards's A Narrative of Surprising Conversions, The Distinguishing Marks of the Work of the Spirit of God, and An Account of the Revival of Religion in Northampton 1740-1742 as found in On Revival. Also see Edwards's Religious Affections.)

What follows is an excerpt from Edwards's letter to Mr. Robe. Edwards's thoughts on the nature of true religious affections and the role of the doctrine of assurance in either instigating or regulating the abuses of the awakening are penetrating. In the wake of much enthusiastic excess he offers a sober assessment of religious revival.

It can scarcely be conceived of what consequence it is, to the continuance and propagation of a revival of religion, that the utmost care be used to prevent error and disorder among those that appear to be the subjects of such a work, As also that all imaginable care be taken by ministers in conducting souls under the work; and particularly that there be the greatest caution used in comforting and establishing persons as being safe and past danger of hell. Many among us have been ready to think that all high raptures are divine; but experience plainly shows that it is not the degree of rapture and ecstasy (though it should be to the third heavens), but the nature and kind that must determine us in their favor. It would have been better for us, if all ministers here had taken care diligently to distinguish such joys and raised affections, as were attended with deep humiliation, brokenness of heart, poverty of spirit, mourning for sin, solemnity of spirit, a trembling reverence towards God, tenderness of spirit, self-jealousy and fear, and great engagedness of heart after holiness of life, and a readiness to esteem others better than themselves; and that sort of humility that is not a noisy showy humility, but rather this which disposes to walk softly and speak trembling. And if we had encouraged no discoveries or joys but such as manifestly wrought this way, it would have been well for us.

And I am persuaded we shall generally be sensible, before long, that we run too fast when we endeavor by our positive determinations to banish all fears of damnation from the minds of men, though they may be true saints, if they are not such as are eminently humble and mortified, and (what the Apostle calls) "rooted and grounded in love" [Ephesians 3:17]. It seems to be running before the Spirit of God. God by his Spirit does not give assurance any other way, than by advancing these things in the soul. He does not wholly cast out fear, the legal principle, but by advancing and filling the soul full of love, the evangelical principle. When love is low in the true saints, they need the fear of hell to deter them from sin, and engage them to exactness in their walk, and stir them up to seek heaven. But when love is high, and the soul full of it, we don't need fear. And therefore a wise God has so ordered it that love and fear should rise and fall like the scales of a balance. When one rises, the other falls, as there is need, or as light and darkness take place of each other in a room, as light decays, darkness comes in, and as light increases and fills the room, darkness is cast out. So love, or the spirit of adoption, casts out fear, the spirit of bondage. And experience convinces me that even in the brightness and most promising appearances of new converts, it would have been better for us to have encouraged them only as it were conditionally, after the example of the Apostle, Hebrews 3:6, "Whose house are we, if we hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of hope firm unto the end," and verse 14, "For we are made partakers of Christ, if we hold the beginning of of our confidence steadfast unto the end." And after the example of Christ, Revelation 2:10, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." So Luke 21:34-36, and in many other places. 'Tis probable that one reason why God has suffered us to err is to teach us wisdom by experience of the ill consequence of our errors.

A SHEPHERD'S LOVE

It's been a while since I last blogged. December was a busy month. My daughter was born November 20 and my family just returned from a 17 day, 2500 mile road trip through 10 states. Traveling with a two year-old and one month-old can take it out of you. We packed and unpacked our little Honda Civic five times. But it was good to celebrate Christmas and New Years with the family.

This weekend we capped off our trip in Olathe, KS. My friend Brian Hough was ordained Sunday evening (you can view photos of the service and reception here and listen to the audio here), and he graciously invited me to preach his ordination sermon. I was honored and thrilled to be asked. Brian is a good man. I rejoice with him in his call to minister the gospel of Jesus Christ. Brian, Laura, thanks for showing a travel wearied family such kind hospitality during our brief visit to Olathe.

It was also good to visit Redeemer Presbyterian Church. The congregants were welcoming and encouraging. What a privilege to finally meet and minister alongside Rev. Tony Felich (aka Lord Sidious) and Rev. Nathan Curry. Tony has become a friend and mentor to me over the past year as we have communicated via email, telephone, and the blogosphere. (BTW, check out the def rap he and Nathan performed at a Moody Bible Institute missions chapel back in 1990).

Here is the ordination sermon I preached this Sunday:

A SHEPHERD’S LOVE
M. Jay Bennett
Redeemer Prebyterian Church
Overland Park, KS
January 6, 2008

Thesis: A shepherd of God’s people should be motivated by a love for Christ that is distinguished by humility.

Text: John 21:15-17, When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

This passage recorded by the Apostle John is often called the reinstatement of Peter. Just a few days prior, while warming himself beside a charcoal fire, Peter had sinned against God by denying the Lord Jesus Christ. Three times he was asked if he was one of Jesus’ disciples. Three times he denied knowing Jesus. Confronted with the depth of his sin, Peter was broken and he wept bitterly. In our text for today, Peter finds himself beside another charcoal fire with Jesus and some other disciples. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. Three times Peter affirms his love for Jesus. Each time Jesus replies by calling Peter to feed his sheep.

We may infer from the text that a shepherd of God’s people should be motivated by love for Christ. Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Peter answers yes, and Jesus commands him, “Feed my sheep.” Thus implying that the motivation for shepherding Christ’s sheep should be love for Christ. In other words, the person of Jesus Christ is the proper object of a shepherd’s love.

But what does love for Christ look like? What fundamentally defines it? Is it a grinding intellectualism meant to demonstrate one’s precision in the subtleties of theology? That may be the biggest temptation in Reformed circles. But while precision in theology is certainly a worthy goal, precise theology in itself cannot be the thing that defines a true love for Christ. Paul clearly says in 1 Cor. 13:2, “If I . . . understand all mysteries and all knowledge . . . but have not love, I am nothing.” Perhaps it is an enthusiastic fanaticism meant to prove one’s religious zeal? That is certainly a temptation that seems to be succumbed to often in charismatic circles, and, as we will see, it was the temptation of Peter. But while religious zeal is not bad in itself, it should not be thought of as fundamentally defining a true love for Christ. Paul says clearly in 1 Corinthians 13:3, “If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” Surely giving away all one’s possessions and a willingness to die are marks of religious zeal. But, as Paul says, those things are nothing apart from love. Therefore, a true love for Christ must be distinguished from precise theology and religious zeal in some way.

So what is the difference? As we examine our text this evening, I’d like to ask and answer this question: What is it that distinguishes the love that should motivate a shepherd of God’s people?

Understanding the broader context of our passage will help us answer that question. So let’s take a look at the events that lead up to Peter’s reinstatement, particularly Jesus’ foretelling of Peter’s denial and the denial itself.

John records the foretelling of Peter’s denial in chapter 13 of his gospel. As Jesus celebrates the Passover for the last time with his disciples, he announces that he is going to a place they cannot come. Immediately we read that Peter asks:

“Lord, where are you going?” Jesus answered him, “Where I am going you cannot follow me now, but you will follow afterward.” Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.”

Jesus was going to offer an atoning sacrifice, willingly laying down his own life for the life of his sheep. Unaware of this, Peter says rather boldly that he will lay down his life for Jesus. Peter has it backwards. He is right to call Jesus Lord, but he is wrong to think that he needs to lay down his life for Jesus’ sake. Peter is certainly demonstrating religious zeal, but it is a zeal without knowledge.

Furthermore, Peter’s use of first person pronouns rather than third person may belie his competitive desire to set himself apart from the other disciples as the one who is most zealous for Christ. Even though he is just one of a group of twelve disciples, he says “I will lay down my life . . .” instead of “We will lay down our lives . . .” (Carson, 676). Indeed, the disciples had been known to squabble over who would be the greatest in the kingdom, and Jesus had declared to them, “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:44-45).

Though Peter objects to Jesus’ leaving, Christ is the Good Shepherd who must go and lay down his life so that his sheep might live. Why? Because his sheep are sinners. Peter is a sinner, and “The wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23a). Though Peter is quite confident in his reliability, Jesus points to Peter's sinfulness when he foretells his denial saying, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.” In a strange twist of irony, Peter’s sin of self-confidence, which led to his bold proclamation, is itself the reason Jesus must leave. Jesus is going to lay down his life to atone for Peter’s sin, even the sin of his denial.

Moving further in the account we read of Jesus’ arrest. At the command of the Jewish leaders an armed band leaves Jerusalem and snakes its way up the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane. A few men with torches are sent in the dark of the night to apprehend the light of the world. As they approach, Jesus utters a single sentence and the soldiers are supernaturally thrown down and pinned to the ground. Jesus does not seem to need help defending himself. But Peter seems to think he does, so he boldly draws his sword and strikes one of the men. Immediately Jesus commands him saying, “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” Peter has yet to understand what Jesus must do.

So far we have seen the self-confident and zealous Simon Peter boldly claiming to be willing to die for Jesus and also striking a man with his sword in defense of the omnipotent God. In the next scene Peter suffers a traumatic fall as he denies Jesus three times.

We read that Jesus is arrested and Peter follows as the guards take him into the city. While his Lord prepares to enter into the coldness of the grave, Peter warms himself beside a charcoal fire. Suddenly someone recognizes him and asks, “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” Think about that moment. What must have been racing through Peter’s mind? Imagine yourself there. You are the one standing beside the charcoal fire watching as your Lord and Savior is mocked and beaten. Then a voice comes out of the darkness, “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” What would you say? Peter replies: “I am not.” Two more times he is asked, and twice more he denies his Lord, even calling curses down on himself and swearing that he doesn’t even know the man. And, as the rooster crows the third time, Luke records a moment that always cuts me to the heart. He says that on the third denial “the Lord turned and looked at Peter” (Luke 22:61). Imagine that. Imagine having been loved, encouraged, and taught by the incarnate Son of God, the Word become flesh. Imagine having loved and followed the Lord Jesus for three years, to have seen him and touched him and heard him and laughed with him and wept with him. And in his moment of isolation and interrogation, imagine you are the one denying him for the third time. And as you do Jesus turns and looks you in the eye. It was then that Peter remembered what Jesus had said, and the text says, “he went out and wept bitterly.” The previously zealous disciple took a hard fall.

But that is not the end of the story. In our text for today we see the grace of God at work in Peter’s life to restore him to the ministry of the gospel.

Just as Peter had denied his Lord three times while warming himself around a charcoal fire (John 18:18), now we find him warming himself again early one morning beside another charcoal fire (John 21:9). Interestingly John uses the same Greek phrase translated “charcoal fire” in both instances. It is the only time the phrase is used in Scripture. Clearly, he intends to connect the two events. Think about the comparison:

Beside the first charcoal fire, night had fallen; beside the second, the sun was dawning.

Beside the first fire, Peter was alone with enemies; beside the second, he was with his friends and his Lord.

Beside the first fire, Peter watched as his Lord was struck down by sinners on his way to die; beside the second, he gazed upon the risen Lord who had conquered sin and death.

Beside the first fire, Peter was asked accusatory questions meant to bring him harm; beside the second, he was asked affirming questions meant to bring him restoration.

Beside the first fire, Peter was full of religious zeal but it was a zeal without knowledge; beside the second, Peter finally began to understand.

Come with me back to John 21. Notice in verse 15 the first question Jesus asks Peter: “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” Why did he say it that way? Why did he ask if Peter loved him more than the other disciples? As we have seen, Peter had been prone to think he needed to demonstrate supremacy over others in order to prove his love for Jesus. Remember how he said, “I will lay down my life” rather than “We will lay down our lives”? Jesus reminds him of that when he asks, “Do you love me more than these?” Earlier Peter may have replied, “Yes. I will lay down my life for you.” But now listen to Peter’s response: “You know that I love you.” Jesus asks a second time: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter replies the same way: “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And when Jesus asks the third time: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” the text says that Peter is grieved and says, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Notice that there is no hint of self-confidence in Peter’s answers. There is no hint of competition with the other disciples in order to prove that he truly loves Jesus. Peter’s only appeal is to the omniscience of the resurrected Son of God. “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Peter, the traitor, the sinner, is learning humility. He is learning that zeal must always be accompanied by knowledge, and the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. He is learning that it is good to be last in the Kingdom of God. He is learning what is required of a shepherd commissioned to lead the flock of God.

The change in Peter is really quite striking. The one who had hoped to be greatest in the kingdom was shown to have the capacity to commit high treason against the King of the Universe. The one who had presumed to defend the omnipotent God with the edge of a sword forged and sharpened by the hands of men, is now ready to trust his Sovereign. The one who had previously boasted of his reliability had come to further understand the depth of his sin. Through a deep awareness of his sin and the grace of God that had abounded to him in Christ, the one who had been so self-confident had now been humbled.

That brings us full circle to our original question: What is it that distinguishes the love that should motivate a shepherd of God’s people? Answer: Humility. A shepherd of God’s people should be motivated by a love for Christ that is distinguished by humility. It is a love based on a clear understanding of one’s own sin and God’s sovereign grace extended by Christ. It is a Christ-centered, cross-boasting, grace-dependent attitude that God grants to sinners through his unconditional election. It is the Holy Spirit of God regenerating and illuminating those effectually called by God, who transforms the affections of their heart into love. As St. Augustine once said, “There is something in humility which strangely exalts the heart.” A shepherd of God’s people should be motivated by a love for Christ that is distinguished by humility. That is the kind of love required for the work of shepherding, which is what Jesus commands Peter to do when he says, “Feed my sheep.”

So, by way of application, how does one go about doing the work of shepherding? How does one feed Christ’s sheep?

When Jesus commands Peter to feed his sheep, he is alluding to an Old Testament text, the judgment pronounced by Ezekiel more than half a century earlier. That text helps shed some light on what it means to do the work of shepherding. In Ezekiel 34 the Lord judged the leaders of Israel. Listen to his words (v. 2b-6):

Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep. The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have ruled them. So they were scattered, because there was no shepherd, and they became food for all the wild beasts. My sheep were scattered; they wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. My sheep were scattered over all the face of the earth, with none to search or seek for them.

Notice why Israel’s leaders are judged. Their motivation was not a humble love for the Lord. Instead, it was a lust for power, prestige, and wealth. Rather than feeding the sheep, they fed themselves. They ate the fat and clothed themselves but did not feed the sheep. They did not strengthen the weak or heal the sick or bind up the injured or bring back the stray or seek the lost. They ruled over God’s flock in harshness so that it was scattered and devoured by the enemy. But God promises redemption in verses 11-24 of the same chapter. Listen to his words:

Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. . . I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord God. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice. . . And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the Lord, will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them. I am the Lord; I have spoken.

Jesus is the servant of David that Ezekiel prophesied about. He is the eternal Son of God who condescended in humility to become a man that he might save men. He is the true shepherd, the good shepherd who “lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11b). Christ is the one who has and will strengthen the weak, heal the sick, bind up the injured, bring back the stray, and seek the lost.

Therefore, the work of a shepherd of Christ is to lead sinners to him. All other shepherds are under shepherds of the chief shepherd. And Christ is the shepherd even and especially to his under shepherds. Clergy and laity alike are all the sheep of his pasture. The moment a clergyman forgets that he is a sheep, he cannot properly shepherd the flock of God.

Ministers of the gospel should consistently return to an awareness of their own sin and the grace of God in redeeming them through the person and work of Jesus Christ. In order to lead other sinners to Christ, you must also be consistently led there by the grace of God. Remember: A shepherd should be motivated by a love for Christ that is distinguished by humility, and he should be about the work of leading sinners, including himself, to Christ who is the Chief Shepherd. In order to shepherd souls through the valley, you must make your home there.

One of my favorite books is a collection of Puritan prayers edited by Arthur Bennett entitled The Valley of Vision. The Puritans defined theology as living unto God by Christ. They were fundamentally pastoral theologians, concerned with the work of shepherding God’s people. Bennett opens the book with a prayer of his own which, I think, describes the concept a shepherd’s love, indeed a Christian’s love, quite well. It reads:

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory. Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision. Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine; let me find Thy light in my darkness, Thy life in my death, Thy joy in my sorrow, Thy grace in my sin, Thy riches in my poverty, Thy glory in my valley.

Though Peter, like we all do, wandered away from the sheepfold by denying the Lord Jesus Christ, Jesus is the Good Shepherd who seeks and saves the lost. By God’s sovereign grace, Peter finally came to understand that he had nothing of worth to offer up to Christ. He finally came to understand that he was a sinner completely dependent on the grace of God in everything, even in coming to recognize his own dependence, even in loving his Lord and serving him as an under shepherd. Peter came to understand “to bear the cross is to wear the crown.”

In closing, listen to Peter’s exhortation in 1 Peter 5:1-4 for church elders to minister among God’s people with a humble love, a shepherd’s love:

To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder, a witness of Christ's sufferings and one who also will share in the glory to be revealed: Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers–not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.

Amen.