A Tale of Two Kings

First off, apologies are in order for my delayed absence. Between wedding prep, a honeymoon and adjusting to a new house and schedule, writing sort of gets put on the backburner. But I am alive and ready to get back into the swing of things.


Being married has caused me to contemplate certain issues on a new level. Topics that were once theoretical concepts are now experiencal realities. Biblical manhood and family structure has been an important issue to me for a long time. It started out as the quest of a pre-teen boy trying to figure out what made me different from the girls I grew up with. It’s matured into a fuller understanding of masculine identity and responsibility. Now, these concepts have to be put into practice on daily basis.

It is out of this new experience that I’ve been contemplating an important distinction that needs to be made when we discuss issues like manhood and headship. This distinction is illustrated by comparing the rule of two kings. In about 483 B.C., King Xerxes of Persia made an interesting decree commanding that “all women will give honor to their husbands, both great and small” and “that every man should be the master of his own house.”On the surface, Xerxes’ decree seems Complementarian, even Pauline. In fact, the parallels in terminology are striking.

• Xerxes: “all women will give honor to their husbands” (Esther 1:20)
• Paul: “the wife must see to it that she respects her husband” (Ephesians 5:33)

• Xerxes: “every man should be the master of his own house” (Esther 1:22)
• Paul: “Wives, be subject to your own husbands…for the husband is the head of the wife” (Ephesians 5:22-23a)

At a glance, it seems like the Apostle Paul and King Xerxes are pretty much saying the same thing. But in fact the one is worlds apart from the other. The first rule in interpreting any text from the Bible, to a legal document, to a shopping list, is to consider the context. And in the contexts we find that Paul and Xerxes are describing two very different things.

Xerxes is describing tyrannical chauvinism while Paul is describing sacrificial servant-leadership. Xerxes’ decree was promoted when his wife refused to obey his stupid, self-serving edict (Esther 1:10-12). His ego offended, Xerxes throws a tantrum and banishes his queen. Still in an ill mood, he writes up a decree commanding all the women of the kingdom to shape up and “mind their man”.

Xerxes is the first king. He’s motivated by love of self. He uses his position of authority to fulfill his own desires at the expense of others. When his authority is maligned or questioned, he becomes angry and suppresses the opposition. This is the type of king all men are by nature. We all seek our own interests and our pride is angered when our rule is challenged. But thankfully, Paul gives us another example.

While Xerxes is the kind of king and husband we all are in our natural state, divine grace allows us to put on a different kind of King and Husband. Paul describes for us the rule and husbandry of King Jesus. While Xerxes cast his wife away, King Jesus is called “the Savior of the body.” (Ephesians 5:22) His rule is not based on petty edicts or vengeful enforcements but on the fact that “he gave Himself for her, so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot of wrinkle, or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless.” (Ephesians 5:25-27) While King Xerxes degraded his wife, King Jesus presents His bride in all her glory.

And it is this Husband-King that Paul commands us men to emulate: “Husbands love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her,” (Ephesians 5:25) and again, “So husbands ought also to love their own wives as their own bodies.” (Ephesians 5:28) This is the difference between pagan patriarchy and biblical patriarchy. The one is about the man seeking his own interests. The other is about the man giving up his own interests for the sake of others. The one is maintained through force and wrath. The other is maintained through love and self-sacrifice.

Therefore, let us resolve to put on the character of our Lord and lead as He led.

The Symbols of Power

I recently read Reclaiming Authentic Fundamentalism by Doug McLachlan (which you should totally read, by the way). I found it to be a very interesting and helpful book. In particular, I enjoyed his chapter on servant leadership. In that chapter he made an observation that is very relevent to the Christmas season:

“The symbols of God’s power are a manger and a cross. What could be more vulnerable or more powerless than a newborn baby in a manger or a crucified man on a cross, yet the incarnation (the manger) and the crucifixion (the cross) were both works of great power. The most powerful thing Jesus of Nazareth ever did was to assume our humanness in the incarnation and our fallenness in the crucifixion. Likewise, real power is released into and then out of us when we are prepared to identify with sinners (as Christ in the incarnation) and sacrificially give ourselves to meet their needs (as Christ did in the crucifixion). Yet, how many contemporary Christian are interested in either sinners or a cross?”

This season let us remember that God became a helpless infant. And as we marvel at the awesomeness of the Incarnation, way we embrace the power of weakness.

Divine Providence in "The Hobbit"

I should warn you right up front that this post will ooze with intense nerdiness. I'm a total J.R.R. Tolkien fanboy and have even joked that his veneration would be the only condition by which I would consider converting to Catholicism. While I may not actually be that extreme, I'm devoted enough to have a set of Lord of the Rings PEZ candies as the centerpiece for my room.

Likewise, I'm eagerly awaiting the release of The Hobbit movie(s). In anticipation for the films, I've re-read the book so that I can criticize Peter Jackson's changes more intelligently. It's been years since I've read the book and I noticed some things that had escaped me the first time around.

I had never realized that one of the major themes of the book is "luck". While initially skeptical that their pint-size burglar will be of any worth, Thorin and Company eventually begin to respect Bilbo Baggins as one of the most valuable members of the enterprise. It's Mr. Baggins that rescues the Company from such strapes as giant spiders, overly skeptical wood-elves and eventually the dragon himself. The qualities that allow Bilbo to perform such feats include wit, stealth, courage, wisdom and disproportionate amount of good luck. His excessive luck is referred to several times in the book.

However, at the very end of the book (literally the last page) there's a twist of sorts. It's revealed that Bilbo's luck was not luck at all. The last bit of The Hobbit jumps ahead a few years to find the fruits of Bilbo's labors. The North is rid of many evils and the free folk live in peace and prosperity.

Upon discovering this, Bilbo exclaims: "Then the prophecies of the old songs have turned out to be true, after a fashion!"

To this, Gandalf offers a rebuke: "Of course! And why should not they prove true? Surely you don't disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don't really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit?"

Hinted in these words is a very interesting thought. Bilbo's luck was not "mere luck". It was purposeful and designed to fulfill a larger end. Some would call this fate. Christians call it providence.



I really do believe that providence is a major theme in Tolkien's works. This theme is picked up in The Lord of the Rings. Interestingly enough, the first time Bilbo's "luck" comes into play is in his discovery of the One Ring. Thus, if luck is a tongue-in-cheek expression for providence, then we learn that God purposed the Ring to fall into the hands of the hobbit. It is in this context that Gandalf would assure Frodo that there are greater powers in the world than that of evil and that the younger Mr. Baggins was meant to have the Ring.

In many respects, the Tolkien canon is similar to the Book of Esther in that God is never explicitly mentioned and yet His sovereign hand is seen everywhere if one looks for it. Unlike in the movie, Tolkien has the Ring destroyed not by Frodo but by the providence itself. In the end, only a sovereign God can defeat evil.

For our part, it's vital that we embrace our role  as little pieces in God's bigger plan. We cannot determine the times in which we live. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

This is the attitude of Bilbo. In explaining the larger purposes of the hobbit's quest, Gandalf says to him: "You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!"

And then the last line in the book is: "Thank goodness!" said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco-jar.

Bilbo is relieved to discover that he's just a little fellow used for a far grander purpose than himself. So should be the attitude of all followers of God Almighty.

C.S. Lewis On Queen Elizabeth II

On June 2nd, 1953, an Englishman sat watching the coronation of his queen. Due to his dislike for crowds, he had decided to take advantage of the accesability first fully televised coronation. This Englishman was C.S. Lewis and a month later he expressed his thoughts on the event in a letter to a friend (Letters, 3:343):

"You know, over here people did not get that fairy-tale feeling about the coronation. What impressed most who saw it was the fact that the Queen herself appeared to be quite overwhelmed by the sacramental side of it. Hence, in the spectators, a feeling of (one hardly knows how to describe it) — awe — pity — pathos — mystery.

The pressing of that huge, heavy crown on that small, young head becomes a sort of symbol of the situation of humanity itself: humanity called by God to be His vice-regent and high priest on earth, yet feeling so inadequate. As if He said, ‘In my inexorable love I shall lay upon the dust that you are glories and dangers and responsibilities beyond your understanding.’

Do you see what I mean? One has missed the whole point unless one feels that we have all been crowned and that coronation is somehow, if splendid, a tragic splendor."

G.K. Chesterton: Misplaced Modesty

Aside from being incredibly handsome (*cough*), G.K. Chesterton was very good as articulating distinctions. In his book Orthodoxy, Chesterton makes an observation about the misplacement of our "modesty":

"But what we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition. Modesty has settled upon the organ of conviction where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himeslf, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed. Nowadays, the part of man that a man does assert is exactly the part he ought not to assert - himself. The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt - the Divine Reason."

4 Reasons Preaching Humbles Me

This morning I had the honor of preaching at my local church. While preparing and delivering the message, I was reminded of my helplessness in many issues. Here are some reasons that preaching humbles me.

1. It reminds me of my dependance on the Holy Spirit.

I can do everything right. I have the perfect outline, the best illustrations, elegant form and flawless execution. But I can't change hearts. My preaching is useless chatter without the work of the Holy Spirit. He can overcome my flaws and add potency to my otherwise powerless words.

2. It draws my attention to power of prayer.

Related to that, I can always tell the difference between sermons that are bathed in prayer and sermons that aren't. When I and others pray for the fruitfulness of a sermon, I've never found our prayers to be unanswered. Again, it causes me to realize that I'm just a single, relatively helpless player in something much larger.

3. It makes me realize that I don't have it all figured out.

I don't know how many times I'll prepare to preach from a certain text, only to discover that I'm completely clueless on so many related issues. I often come away from sermon preparation with more questions than answers. And yet, God is always faithful to show me what I need to know and how to communicate it.

4. It makes me grateful for other scholars.

When I don't know something, I often turn to others for help. I'm very grateful for so many wonderful men who studied the Word of God and provide me with insights from it. This includes "famous" people who write books and commentaries. But it also includes people I know personally and are willing to help me understand the Bible.

Lawlessness Is The New Legalism

Many churches pride themselves in speaking out against the enslaving evils of legalism. Pastors are always reminding their congregation to not get distracted by rules and regulations but to just concentrate on Jesus. Well, that's great. Or is it? Legalism has become such a negative buzz word that we no longer really know what it means. I'm a guy who likes to have words nicely defined. So, before we continue our little discussion on legalism, let's give it a definition.

In my understanding, legalism is an overemphasis on law rather than on God which usually results in the creation of additional rules. Legalists typically become judgmental of those who violate these laws. In short, legalism is idolatry. It's putting man-made laws above God Himself.


So, than what's with my peculiar title? If legalism is the overemphasis of law how can lawlessness be the new legalism? Didn't I just contradict myself? Just a few months ago I would have answered yes to that very question. However, then I got to thinking about the way that we often label people as legalists.

We take people who don't listen to rock or families that don't watch R-rated movies or girls who only wear dresses and then label them legalists. But what are we focusing on? The outward appearance. Laws. Rules.

There are many people in churches today who have strict rules about not having strict rules and then when people violate their no-rule rules they judge them for being judgmental.

I've seen families who homeschool their kids, don't listen to anything with a beat, hardly every watches movies, only read certain kinds of books, would never hear of dancing, dress in a very conservative way and attend a Fundamentalist, family-integrated church. But no one could ever justly call them legalists. They aren't focusing on rules. They're focusing on Jesus and this has caused them to live their lives in a certain way. They don't judge others who don't have their same standards, but focus on living their lives in a way that would please God.

On the flip side, I've seen believers who walk around like they're at a pop culture festival and live very legalistic lives. They may not think they have rules about dress or media, but they actually do. Their rules just have the extra convenience of commanding them to act 'lawlessly'. When people use the argument that the Bible never says "thou shalt not " what are they focusing on? The law. They aren't looking at the heart behind the law. Just the law and the law doesn't mention the particulars. They are very dedicated to their anti-rule rules and will judge and label anyone of violates them.

But before I start judging the lawless legalists, I must remind myself that we're all legalists at heart. We all have this natural, God-given draw toward order and it's much easier for that order to be controlled by rules rather than love.

We must all guard ourselves against the dangerous snares of legalism. At the end of day, if you're driving down a precarious road it doesn't really matter if you fall into the ditch to your left or the ditch to your right.