Will God Annihilate the World? Part I

Introduction

When I was a relatively new believer I was taught that the present world will be annihilated. Not just the animals and vegetation, not just the land and the waters—but the subatomic particles themselves would one day be dissolved into nothingness . . . utterly destroyed . . . obliterated. In its place God would then create a completely new heavens and earth—ex nihilo, “out of nothing.” This new heavens and earth would not merely be qualitatively different (“improved”), but quantitatively different (“absolutely new”).

But is this true? Will God utterly annihilate this present universe . . . or will He renew it? Will the original creation of Genesis 1 be rejected as beyond repair . . . or redeemed from its fallen, cursed condition?

“Heaven and Earth Will Pass Away”

Both the Old and New Testaments clearly describe a time when heaven and earth will “pass away” or “perish.” Psalm 102:25–26 says, “Of old You founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of Your hands. Even they will perish, but You endure; and all of them will wear out like a garment.” This same Psalm is quoted in Hebrews 1:10–12. Similarly, Jesus famously said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35; Mark 13:31; Luke 21:33). With vivid images, Isaiah 24:20 pictures the fall of the world: “The earth reels to and fro like a drunkard and it totters like a shack, for its transgression is heavy upon it, and it will fall, never to rise again.”

Perhaps the most definitive statements about the ultimate destruction of the universe are found in 2 Peter 3:10 and Revelation 20:11 and 21:1. Peter writes, “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up.” And John records his vision of the new creation in startling terms: “Then I saw a great white throne and Him who sat upon it, from whose presence earth and heaven fled away, and no place was found for them” (Revelation 20:11). And then: “I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea” (21:1).

Read quite literally, these Old and New Testament texts seem to carry a degree of finality—utter destruction of the present heavens and earth and a replacement with a completely new physical universe.

But there’s a problem, because Scripture also says . . .

“Heaven and Earth Will Not Pass Away”

In Psalm 148:3–6, all creation is called to praise God. We read: “Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all stars of light! Praise Him, highest heavens, and the waters that are above the heavens! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for He commanded and they were created. He has also established them forever and ever; He has made a decree which will not pass away.” Clearly the sun, moon, stars, heavens, and waters have all been established “forever and ever.” In fact, God’s decree “will not pass away.”

In Psalm 89:36–37 the promise of the eternal covenant with David and His descendents is linked to the eternality of the heavens and earth: “His descendants shall endure forever and his throne as the sun before Me. It shall be established forever like the moon, and the witness in the sky is faithful.” We know that this Davidic covenant is fulfilled eternally through Jesus Christ, the final Davidic King. So, just as the Davidic King will endure forever, the sun and moon, likened to the Davidic promise, must also endure forever.

Similarly, God solidifies His promise of everlasting faithfulness to His covenant with Israel by appealing to the continuation of the heavens and earth: “Thus says the Lord, Who gives the sun for light by day and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, Who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar; the Lord of hosts is His name: ‘If this fixed order departs from before Me,’ declares the Lord, ‘then the offspring of Israel also will cease from being a nation before Me forever.’” If the heavens and earth were intended for absolute destruction in the future, then this promise of God to Israel could be broken!

These passages describe a creation that is not expected to pass away or be destroyed. In fact, the sun, moon, stars, and heavens could not cease to exist without disastrous implications for the faithfulness of God and the reliability of His promises.

So, which is it? Will heaven and earth pass away, as the Bible says? Or will heaven and earth be preserved forever, as the Bible says? Does the Bible contradict itself? Or is there a way to harmonize these two apparently contradictory truths?

(Continued in Part II…)

A Case for RetroChristianity

Naming an idea can be risky. The newly-named “idea” takes on a life of its own and can then be accepted, rejected, modified, ignored, loved, or despised. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to finally name that cluster of ideas that has been gestating for some years now—about fifteen, to be precise. I actually think the child was born a few years ago, but he’s been awaiting an identity—something that will distinguish him from his look-alike siblings that came before him. So, the name I’ve given my course of thinking is RetroChristianity. I will explain exactly what this means and why I chose this particular name in due time. But to do this successfully, I first need to name and describe a few other concepts in contemporary Christian thinking. These terms include “Orthodoxy,” “Heterodoxy,” and “Heresy.” To these common labels I want to add two more: “Metrodoxy” and “Petridoxy.”

By “Orthodoxy” I signify the correct view on the central truths of the Christian faith and a proper practice of Christian works. As a rule of thumb, orthodoxy is that which has been believed and practiced everywhere, always, and by all. The “all” includes those who people who intend to be counted among orthodox Christians and who have generally been regarded as such by other orthodox Christians. Orthodoxy means holding the right opinion about crucial Christian truths and acts in keeping with what Christianity has always believed about these things. Some things that fit this general criteria are: 1) God created all things out of nothing; 2) God is Triune: one divine essence in three Persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; 3) The eternal Son of God became incarnate through the Virgin Mary and was born Jesus Christ, fully God and fully human, two distinct natures in one unique Person; 4) Jesus Christ died to pay for our sins, rose from the dead victorious, and ascended into heaven, waiting to return from heaven to earth to act as Judge and King; 5) The Holy Spirit moved the prophets and apostles to compose the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, the inspired, unerring norm for the Christian faith; 6) The Church is Christ’s body of redeemed, baptized saints who by faith partake of the life and communion with God through Jesus Christ in the new community of the Spirit. Some universal practices have included baptism as the rite of initiation, the Lord’s Supper (or communion, or eucharist) as the rite of continued fellowship, evangelism, missions, charity, worship, and Bible teaching. Many other things have been taught and practiced everywhere, always, and by all, but this sample list indicates the kind of central, crucial doctrines that mark one as “orthodox.”

Now this all sounds simpler than it actually is. Sometimes it requires a little bit of squinting in order to overlook minor blemishes on an otherwise hopeful history of orthodoxy. The reality is that without constant check-ups and regular cleaning, orthodoxy is subject to “truth decay.” This can happen to individuals, to churches, to vast communities, to entire generations. But don’t despair! One of the main functions of the Spirit of Truth is to guide the church into truth, to restore her to orthodoxy when she veers too far, and to breathe into her renewed vitality. The history of the church is filled with these revival movements that retrieve forgotten aspects of orthodoxy. So orthodoxy can never be taken for granted. It must be constantly re-received and re-taught. It is not passed down from one generation to another in the form of a creed or confession if that creed or confession is not faithfully and intentionally taught. Orthodoxy is not bestowed upon the next generation through the Bible if the Bible is not read and explained within the context of classic orthodoxy. There’s no such thing as orthodoxy by osmosis or trickle-down orthodoxy. It must be intentionally and clearly taught everywhere, at all times, and to all.

Moving on, I use the term “Heterodoxy” to mean, literally, “another opinion.” Heterodox teachings tend toward the margins of the received doctrines of the faith. And they sometimes teeter at the very edge. They still want to be part of the Christian tradition and still acknowledge the central Christian truths, but they also want to be unique, innovative, and clever in their theology and practice. They feel comfortable recasting traditional truths in nontraditional language. They sometimes want to rearrange, reinvent, reinvigorate, and reformulate the things that had been handed down to them. They like to surf the waves of the margins, buck the system, go against the grain—all within the community of orthodoxy. However, heterodoxy often results in an unintentional distancing from the normative center of Christian orthodoxy . . . and with a little push heterodox teachers run the risk of breaking free from orthodoxy’s gravitational pull and winding up in the bleak void of heresy. Heterodoxy is also often characterized by exaggerating a minor distinctive and trying to jam it into the center of orthodoxy. When a unique aspect of a person’s theology becomes the focal point, the true center of orthodoxy becomes marginalized and minimized. Thus, heterodoxy develops because of a failure to keep the primary orthodox truths front and center. Division, dissension, and destruction often ensue. Heterodoxy is cured by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

I use the term “Heresy” to describe doctrine that challenges and destroys the central core of orthodoxy. As such, heresy alone is damnable doctrine. It often finds its origins as a radical heterodoxy, but not all heterodoxy ends up in denying basic fundamentals of the Christian faith. Heresy differs from heterodoxy in that the heretic knowingly (not ignorantly), willfully (not accidentally), and persistently (not momentarily) denies a key tenet of historic orthodox Christianity. He or she rejects certain truths that have been believed everywhere, always, and by all. For example, somebody who denies the full deity and humanity of Christ is a heretic. The belief that Jesus of Nazareth did not literally rise from the dead is heretical. And the view that the Holy Spirit is a created being and not a fully divine person is heresy. Heresy is defeated by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

Orthodoxy. Heterodoxy. Heresy. I think these categories are clear. Now, floating among Orthodoxy and Heterodoxy I see two tendencies, especially in free church evangelicalism. I call these tendencies “Metrodoxy” and “Petridoxy.”

“Metrodoxy” is a term I coined to describe trendy, faddish, and “cool” doctrines and practices that tend to take over contemporary churches, especially “megachurches” and megachurch wannabes. If you want your church to have greater cultural “impact,” to draw media attention, and to place itself on the map of evangelical Christianity, you must accept and live by metrodox values. These include relationship, not religion . . . contemporary, not conventional . . . relevance, not ritual . . . innovative, not obsolete . . . fresh, not stale. Metrodoxy thrives in metropolitan areas, drawing from a pool of young, energetic men and women who have excess time and money. This group is often impressed by a clever lingo, advanced technology, and trendy buzz. Anything perceived as boring, belabored, or bogged down gets snuffed. But amidst the excitement, metrodox churches tend to be in a constant state of identity crisis, needing to reinvent or re-brand themselves every few years. After a few phoenix-like rebirths, these churches eventually find themselves adrift, unsure of what they’re supposed to be doing or why. Of course, we find all sorts of ready captains prepared to take over and steer the ship toward some new and trendy port . . . but these navigators are usually not going back to classic orthodox beliefs and practices as their guides to lead them on. The result of this constant identity crisis is often a failure to identify and pass on what has been believed and practiced everywhere, always, and by all. So, extreme metrodoxy can be treated by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

On the other extreme we find what I call “Petridoxy.” If the metrodox are too progressive and trendy, the petridox are frozen in time, unable and unwilling to change. They have been petrified. They tend to fear change as a great evil, not realizing that their own practices were themselves once quite new (and likely controversial). They often have a very myopic perspective on their own history, believing their way has stood the test of time. They have no desire to critically examine their narrow perception of so-called “orthodoxy” or to evaluate whether what they’re doing actually does help to preserve and promote central orthodox beliefs and practices. Petridox churches would just as soon die a slow and painful death than make major adjustments. Having lost sight of the fundamental goal of receiving, preserving, and passing on the faith once for all entrusted to the saints, petridoxy settles on one method of receiving, one manner of preserving, and one means of passing on the faith . . . and then it congeals in that particular form. Petridoxy therefore tends to be primitivistic, reactionary, ultra-conservative, and idealistically nostalgic. However, petridoxy can be softened by refocusing attention on the purpose of the church’s forms and structures: to intentionally and clearly teach orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

With this background on concepts of orthodoxy, heterodoxy, heresy, metrodoxy, and petridoxy, I’m ready to explain the concept of “RetroChristianity.” The prefix “retro” means “involving, relating to, or reminiscent of things past.” But in contemporary compound words, it indicates an attempt to bring the things of the past into the present, giving both the past and the present a new life.

First let me make it perfectly clear that RetroChristianity is not fundamentalism redivivus, a retreat back to Papal Rome, a pilgrimage to Eastern Orthodoxy, or a veiled attempt to promote a flaccid ecumenical faith. Rather it’s an honest attempt to more carefully navigate our received orthodox faith and practice through the precarious channel between metrodoxy and petridoxy, both of which can shipwreck the faith. Therefore, RetroChristianity wants to bridge the gap between the ancient and contemporary church without going to two extremes: 1) idealizing the ancient and condemning the modern, or 2) eschewing the ancient and seizing the contemporary. RetroChristianity has some things in common with the many “ancient-future” movements, while acknowledging that many forms of that trend can easily slip into just a new identity for metrodox churches . . . or drive headlong into the rocks of an out-of-touch primitivistic petridoxy. RetroChristianity tries to address the real practical questions of “how” we can intentionally and clearly teach orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all. It also draws much of its inspiration from the concept of paleo-orthodoxy and thus explores the foundational work of the patristic period. But it also seeks to move, in concrete practical steps, from that pre-modern, pre-Christian cultural context to our post-modern, post-Christian context.

Ultimately RetroChristianity means carrying on a constant dialogue with the past, but it also requires an actual practical connection with the present and an orientation toward the future. Therefore, it asks how we can and ought to teach and practice orthodoxy everywhere (that is, in every kind of church and ministry around the world), always (in every ministry opportunity, outreach, or service), and to all (young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, men and women). RetroChristianity demands that the past first be reckoned with on its own terms. It can not settle for picking over the past for relevant bits and pieces that will make us feel more “connected” to our roots. It can’t stand for politely consulting the ancient Christians to make us look sophisticated. And it can’t naively transplant the past into the present as if the preceding centuries of development never happened. As such, the dialogue is a complex, time-consuming, strenuous work that requires the input of many. This includes patristic, medieval, and reformation scholars; pastors, teachers, and laypeople; denominational and free churches, and numerous others interested in genuinely engaging in either real transformation . . . or unashamed preservation.

[Y’all] Be Filled with the Spirit

Probably a dozen times a year I’m asked, “How can I be filled with the Spirit”? The motivations behind this question, I think, are two: First, many traditions of sanctification have emphasized the filling of the Spirit as the key that unlocks the spiritual life. Being filled with (or by) the Spirit has been set forth as the one thing a believer must do to experience the fullness of the spiritual life. Second, believers struggling against temptation and sin are looking for an antidote. Like an immunization against a nagging illness, the experience of being filled with the Spirit sounds a lot like a spiritual booster shot against chronic temptation and sin.

But have we misunderstood the filling of the Spirit? Does that classic text have something more to say to the way we live together as a church rather than how we behave as individuals?

Certainly, we have clear examples of the Spirit filling individuals for service (Exod 31:3; Acts 4:8; 13:9). The filling of the Holy Spirit is always manifested through observable effects. These include wisdom, understanding, knowledge, skill, power, prophecy, healing, boldness, faith, joy, hope, and peace, among others (Exod 31:3; 35:31; Micah 3:8; Luke 1:67; Acts 2:4; 4:31; 6:5; 9:17; 13:52; Rom 15:13). So, one knows that an individual is filled with the Spirit based on the effects of the Spirit, which often correspond to the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:22–23). If you see the fruit, you know the root. But this individual indwelling and enabling is only one aspect of the filling of the Spirit (1 Cor 6:19). Paul also refers to a community aspect of the Spirit’s filling. He describes the church in Corinth as a temple of God, indwelled corporately by the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 3:16). So, the filling of the Spirit occurs in individuals, but it also occurs in the Church community (Acts 2:4; Eph 2:22).

Almost everything I read about Ephesians 5:18 relates it to the Christian’s individual surrender, yielding, decision, or action that fulfills the command to “be filled with the Spirit.” But could Paul’s primary intention in that passage be the community’s experience of the Spirit rather than the individual’s empowering? When he uses the second person plural, is Paul saying, “Each and every one of you must be filled individually” or is he saying, “Let you all as a community be filled”? The negative command, “Do not be drunk with wine” is also plural, but its possible that Paul was contrasting an inherently selfish, individualistic pleasure (drunkenness) with a selfless, corporate participation (spiritual life). Possible . . . but we need to let the context of Ephesians 5:18 guide our interpretation.

Many point out that Ephesians 5:18 is a passive command. How do we obey a passive command—regardless of whether it’s addressing an individual or a community? Well, we may have to stop doing something that obstructs the Spirit, or otherwise allow the Spirit to do what the Spirit wants. If we emphasize the individual aspect of this command, the problem is a bit more difficult—I must personally must stop or start something to allow the Spirit to fill me. But if Paul intended to emphasize the corporate aspect of the Spirit’s filling, this opens up the fulfillment of the command to reflect mutuality—“one another” living in community, among which the Spirit is producing corporate effects.

In any case, the Spirit’s filling must involve both individual and community elements, though I believe the broader context of Ephesians 5 points us toward a corporate filling of the Spirit. In Ephesians 2, Paul compared the Church as a corporate body to a holy temple, “in whom you [all] also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit” (2:22). The rest of the epistle emphasizes togetherness, unity of the one body, corporate giftedness, and spiritual growth together (see especially Eph 4). Thus, the letter as a whole focuses on the corporate spiritual life. In fact, the immediate context of Ephesians 5:18 emphasizes this same corporate mutuality. Following the passive plural command to be filled with the Spirit, Paul attaches a series of participles indicating what being filled with the Spirit looks like. Note the corporate effects of this Spirit filling: speaking to one another with melodious thankfulness (5:19–20) and being subject to one another after the example of Christ (5:21–6:9).

Thus, it appears that the command to “be filled with the Holy Spirit” refers primarily to allowing the Spirit to work in and through our relationships with each other in the Church community. Of course, this requires individual responses and responsibilities as we submit to each other, look out for each other’s interests, meet each other’s needs, and allow others to reciprocate their love and concern for us. But Ephesians 5:18 has little to do with being filled by the Spirit in order to resist temptation, conquer sin, or lick a bad habit. That worn-out application of the passage doesn’t quite fit Paul’s point.

Read in this light, Ephesians 5:18 is extremely convicting to us as we consider our own local churches. It demands that we answer several probing questions. Is our church community filled with the Spirit? Do we exude the attractive aroma of unity, care, support, encouragement, subjection to one another, and uplifting, joyful attitudes? Or do we exude an odor of disunity, selfishness, criticism, discouragement, rebellion, and destructive, pessimistic cynicism? Ask yourself, as you wander the halls of your church, overhear conversations, or whiff the “whine” from the grapevine—do you sense the warm breeze of the Spirit? Or, instead of being continually filled with the Spirit, does your community seem to have outposts of the Spirit battling against a lingering insurgency of the flesh? Or is it even worse than that? Is our church building just a whitewashed tomb, impressive on the outside but lacking Spirit-enabled community life within? Think about your church—and about your participation in its spiritual health. Then answer this important question for yourself: Are we filled with the Spirit?

Working Out the Inner Work (or, "Sancti-fried… Revisited")

If you’ve ever had your vehicle stuck in the mud, you’ll remember trying anything to get out: shifting into low gear, jerking the steering wheel to the right or left, spinning the wheels in reverse, pushing the gas pedal to the floor, even emptying extra weight to lighten your load. Finally, with mud covering every square inch of your vehicle, you admit defeat. You accept the fact that the only solution to your inextricable dilemma is to call for help.

Whether we like it or not, that’s life. Each of us, left to ourselves, is hopelessly stuck in the mire of our own depravity. Apart from God’s sovereign acts of grace, we’re helpless. Without God pulling us free from the muck and washing us clean, we would continue to wallow in the slime of our own filth.

But thankfully, God didn’t leave us to ourselves. He provided the death and resurrection of Christ to pay the penalty for our sins and to grant us new life. He sent His Spirit to regenerate us—not merely on our spiritual birthday, but continually. We have an eternal relationship with the Spirit of Life, who continues His regenerating work in us. Yes, God has declared us righteous once and for all in Christ (“justification”). But we too often forget that God is also making us righteous by His Spirit (“sanctification”).

But if God does the work, what part to we play in sanctification? Is there nothing we can do to affect our spiritual growth?

More than Methods

Methods of nullifying the old nature and nurturing the new are almost as plentiful as the people who peddle them. Whole systems of sanctification have grown up over the centuries, each promising the most effective way. The victorious Christian life, exchanged life, Methodism, holiness, second blessing, sacramentalism, personal disciplines, corporate disciplines, mysticism, asceticism, monasticism, asceticism, contemplation . . . the list goes on.

My complaint about these various approaches is not that they are wrong, but that they often claim to be too right. Most of them have something true to contribute to a diverse tradition of Christian spirituality, but none of them can claim to be the sole biblical path to spiritual maturity. Some of the models of sanctification came on the scene when individual Christians (or small communities) experienced remarkable spiritual blessing while engaged in a particular approach to the Christian life. However, instead of viewing their method as a neutral means through which God chose to work His sanctifying grace, their gaze became fixated on the method itself.

Yet if the means of sanctification does not include some method, what should we do? Is the solution to be passive, to “wait on the Lord” for an instant change of heart?

This idea of passive sanctification reminds me of one of my Bible College roommates who would return to the dorm after a weekend of shameless fornication. When I confronted him about it, he responded, “God’s in control. When He wants me to stop living this way, He’ll take those desires away.” Yes, God is in control. And in His sovereignty He cast my roommate out of Bible College.

The answer is obviously not to passively wait for God to suddenly, instantly, and miraculously change us. Though that kind of deliverance may happen to some, it probably won’t happen to you and me. Instead, my own answer to the question of what we should do in response to God’s sovereignty over our sanctification is quite simple.

Do whatever it takes and do it now!

God’s Inner Work

In Philippians 2:12, Paul wrote, “Just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” I can’t think of a clearer text regarding our responsibility to obey. The verb “work out” in Greek is a simple command. This passage emphasizes working, not waiting; being productive, not passive. According to Paul, our responsibility for sanctification is to simply obey.

Paul could have stopped at verse 12 and his practical intentions would have been perfectly clear. But instead, he removed the service panel from the Christian life and revealed the inner workings of sanctification. In just a few powerful words we see that our work of willing, active obedience in salvation is not the cause of sanctification, but the effect. Paul said, “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Philippians 3:12–13).

All too often I meet Christians who want to somehow soften this language, to read into it some foreign concept of cooperation, of God’s response to our willing hearts, of the Spirit’s work of lending a helping hand to our honest efforts. Too many believers want to live the Christian life as if God were holding back His provision of power until we take the first step. This idea is completely contrary to what Paul says in Philippians 2 about our obedience in salvation. It is God who is at work in us, not only to work, but also to will. At the same time, God works all things in this world together for our good (Romans 8:28). So, by both inward and outward means, God affects our sanctification.

However, rather than instantly zapping us into mature saints, God gradually affects our spiritual growth through several means of sanctification that stir faith in us. That faith, itself granted by God, then manifests itself through the fruit of the Spirit.

What are these means of sanctification?

Means of Sanctification

One crucial means is God’s church. Yes, that place, or, more accurately, those people. Whether you’re ready to accept it or not, the gathering of a local church community is the primary means God uses to sanctify you. Hebrews 10:24–25 says, “Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another.” Within the community believers exercise their spiritual gifts for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7). Within the community gifted teachers grow believers into the image of Christ (Ephesians 4:11–16). And within the church community, God’s Spirit works through our observance of the Lord’s Supper, confirming our covenant relationship with God and others (1 Corinthians 11:20–32).

Another means of sanctification is personal discipline. Paul told Timothy, “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness; for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things” (1 Timothy 4:7–8). Spiritual discipline includes positive things like reading Scripture, prayer, fasting, and the like. But it also includes things you might do to protect yourself from temptation or break a pattern of sin. In my experience sin is like a fire—the more you feed it by, the stronger it gets. But if, by whatever means, you can keep from obsessively engaging in a particular sin, its controling power will wane. Spiritual disciplines are perhaps the most personal aspect of sanctification, for no believer’s struggles are the same, and not all individuals respond the same way to the same means. The key is to keep hard at it, engaging in spiritual disciplines that move you closer to God and to His people. Any of the numerous methods of spiritual growth may work well for many people. But it’s not ultimately the method itself that does the work. Through these means God works in you and for you. Instead of fixing your gaze on the method that seems to work for you, fix your gaze on “the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2, KJV), for it is God at work in us to conform us to the image of Christ by the power of His Spirit.

To Him, not us, be the glory forever.

i’m Distracted by me

It has somehow become trendy to do away with the capital “I” for the first person pronoun in praise and worship songs, especially if the lyrics are projected on a screen. The goal, I suppose, is to reflect (or promote) personal humility. Apparently if we use a lowercase “i” we will be (or appear to be) more humble. But for me this practice produces the opposite effect. When projected song lyrics use a lowercase “i” my attention is actually drawn to the pronoun rather than turned away from it. It distracts me, and the thing that attracts my thoughts is the very thing the lowercase “i” is supposed to be deflecting!

ironic.

Look, nobody sees a capital “I” and thinks, “How self-centered! That person sure must think highly about himself to be capitalizing the first person singular pronoun!” No, the capitalization of “I” is simply a convention of the English language. To put things in perspective, the German language actually capitalizes all nouns in a sentence, but Germans aren’t thereby saying every person, place, thing, or idea deserves to be worshipped or honored.

I struggle to understand the motive behind using a lowercase “i,” wondering if it may, in fact, actually promote a prideful humility—“Look at how humble i am!” or “You people who use a capital ‘I’ sure are egocentric (unlike us, who use a lowercase ‘i’)!” On the other hand, a desire to be less self-absorbed and me-focused is a noble and needed corrective in contemporary worship. But songwriters and worship leaders who want to pursue this goal can do so in far more effective ways. Let me suggest two.

First, we could use less I and me and more Him and He. How about more song lyrics that just don’t mention “I” or “me” all that often? Instead, let’s tell the story about the Triune God, singing praises to the Father, confessing faith in Jesus Christ, and proclaiming the work of the Spirit. Keeping the focus on Him in our lyrics will remove the necessity to constantly sing about how I feel about God, what I gain from salvation, how I can personally benefit from my relationship with God. Songs that obsess with a lowercase “i” could avoid the problem by ejecting the pronoun entirely.

Second, we could use less I and Me and more us and we. Far too many of our contemporary worship songs are individualistic, emphasizing personal faith, personal problems, personal salvation, personal growth, personal eschatology. How difficult would it be to change some of the lyrics of these songs to a plural pronoun? Often the lyrics of worship songs communicate to the worshippers that they are simply a large mob of individuals engaged in private, personal communion with God. Let’s leave individual worship at home in our prayer closets and come to church to worship in community.

I must clarify, though, that nothing in the Bible suggests that using “I” and “we” in corporate worship is wrong. Many psalms are written in the first person singular. Many of our great hymns and worship choruses have endured as individual poems of devotion. The Christian faith clearly involves both individual and corporate aspects of prayer, study, and worship. To emphasize one over the other would create an unbiblical and unhealthy imbalance. But in a culture like ours, driven by thoroughgoing metheism, it might not hurt to rethink how and what we sing.