The design of all the revelations contained in the Word of God is the salvation of men. Truth is in order to holiness. God does not make known his being and attributes to teach men science, but to bring them to the saving knowledge of Himself. The doctrines of the Bible are, therefore, intimately connected with religion, or the life of God in the soul. They determine the religious experience of believers, and are presupposed in that experience. This is specially true of the doctrine of the Trinity. It is a great mistake to regard that doctrine as a mere speculative or abstract truth, concerning the constitution of the Godhead, with which we have no practical concern, or which we are required to believe simply because it is revealed. On the contrary, it underlies the whole plan of salvation, and determines the character of the religion (in the subjective sense of that word) of all true Christians. It is the unconscious, or unformed faith, even of those of God’s people who are unable to understand the term by which it is expressed. They all believe in God, the Creator and Preserver against whom they have sinned, whose justice they know they cannot satisfy, and whose image they cannot restore to their apostate nature. They therefore, as of necessity, believe in a divine Redeemer and a divine Sanctifier. They have, as it were, the factors of the doctrine of the Trinity in their own religious convictions. No mere speculative doctrine, especially no doctrine so mysterious and so out of analogy with all other objects of human knowledge, as that of the Trinity, could ever have held the abiding control over the faith of the Church, which this doctrine has maintained. It is not, therefore, by any arbitrary decision, nor from any bigoted adherence to hereditary beliefs, that the Church has always refused to recognize as Christians those who reject this doctrine. This judgment is only the expression of the deep conviction that Antitrinitarians must adopt a radically and practically different system of religion from that on which the Church builds her hopes. It is not too much to say with Meyer, that “the Trinity is the point in which all Christian ideas and interests unite; at once the beginning and the end of all insight into Christianity.”

- Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology Vol. I (read it online for free)

When I was in Bible College I often heard an old preacher tell the students, “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.” Of course he wasn’t the first to say it, but I loved it. I still do.

Recently someone I respect asked me, “is it possible that within the ‘gospel-centered movement’ some people are making the main thing the only thing?”

It is a great question, and I think it does point to a problem of unhealthy reductionism among some well-meaning brothers and sisters. I believe this brother was essentially saying, “Look, our people need to know what their hope is before God. This is of first importance. But, they also need to know how to pray, fast, love, give, fight, and serve.” Of course, I agree with this sentiment.

There is more in God’s word than the gospel. God has given us his law to show us the way, uncover our corruption and condemnation, and point us to our need of redemption. There are commands to be obeyed, there is wisdom to learn and practice, and affections to feel and be moved by. But, the law itself is unable to create within us new hearts, or empower us to obey its demands. So let me say it this way: The gospel is the main thing, it is not the only thing. However, it is the only thing that brings life, power, and transformation. The gospel isn’t everything, but it does connect to everything, and preachers and teachers in the church must be able to show that connection lest we allow the church to drift (or even be lead) into various kinds of hopeless, powerless legalism.

Let’s take one example. I need to learn how to pray, but I also need to learn, and be reminded, that I can only pray because Jesus has made peace between God and sinners like me. I need a practical method for praying, but I also need the assurance that when I fail to pray, God’s love for me is secure and not based upon my performance. I need counsel on how to pray without ceasing, but I need the confidence that Jesus prayed perfectly in my place, prayed on my behalf, and currently intercedes for me. These gospel principles don’t merely complement the command to pray, that satisfy it. They do not remove the need to pray, they give freedom and power to approach God with boldness. Without these gospel principles we are left to our own devices, and at least implicitly encouraged to trust in our work more than God’s grace.

The best teaching of the church preaches the “whole counsel of God,” unpacking all of the subject matter available within, but does so with the aim of grounding the hearers in the gospel. When we fail to do this we show that the functional main thing is the act of teaching or learning, rather than the gospel itself.

Lane Harrison, pastor of Lifepoint Church in Ozark, MO asked me to come and talk with their Ozarks Church Planters/Leaders Network gathering early this week. I was to talk about the development of a healthy theological culture in the local church. It was a real blessing meeting these brothers and exchanging ideas. I certainly came away encouraged by many of their words and insights. I’ll be sharing a few summaries from my talk there. First up, a few thoughts on the abuse and neglect of theology, and theology as “the sail.”

Theology, like any good gift of God, is often either abused, or neglected. In fact, when it comes to theology I see abuse and neglect more often than not. Theology is perhaps most commonly abused when the end for which God has given it is forgotten. It is rightly said that theology should lead to doxology, meaning that if our theology does not lead us to glory in God through worship and transformation we are doing something wrong. Those of us who love doctrine know how easy it is to become more excited about our theological perspective, formulations and traditions than the One these things should lead us to worship. As Ray Ortlund recently said on the blog,

We can admire our theology of God rather than God, because the theology itself really is gorgeous – but only as a dim reflection of the One described there.

Worse yet, we can admire ourselves for being so smart: “We get it, we’re Reformed, we’re not like those Arminian idiots over there in that other group.” God hates pride. All pride. Reformed pride.
– Interview with Ray Ortlund

On the other hand, and I believe even more commonly, theology is neglected. It is found to be unnecessary and irrelevant. Some seem to eschew it because of its abuse by others, or fear of division in the church, and also because in recent history the local church has not exactly been the model of theological exercise and enrichment. We think of theologians as scholars working in the academy, not preachers in the pulpit. Of course, it was not always this way. Throughout history our brightest theologians have occupied the pulpit and pastored God’s people. Examples like Augustine, Calvin, Owen, Edwards, and Spurgeon should show us a better and more biblical way.

Even among those who say theology is important, it is often likened to the foundation of a building. Theology is the foundation upon which everything else is built. It’s a good illustration, but like the foundation of most houses, once the house is built people live in their homes without ever thinking about the poured cement. There is no practical interaction with the foundation. Experientially, it is an invisible element that is given little to no attention.

I believe a better illustration is that of a sailboat. Our theology is the sail. It is high and lifted up, not to be admired, but to catch the wind and find power outside of itself to move the boat. The sails are always visible and in constant use. The boat is the church. Without the sail all in the boat perish slowly. Without the boat people drown quickly.

The fourth interview in this Experiential Theology series is with Ray Ortlund, pastor of Immanuel Church in Nashville, Tennessee. Ray previously served on the Old Testament faculty of Trinity Evangelical Divinity School outside of Chicago for nine years, and has pastored churches in California, Oregon, and Georgia. Ray participated in The New Living Translation and the English Standard Version of the Bible, and contributed the introduction and study notes to the book of Isaiah in The ESV Study Bible. He also serves on the Council of The Gospel Coalition. You should be reading Ray’s blog, Christ is Deeper Still. But first, check out this interview with our brother where he shares his thoughts on the value and goal of theology.

Why does theology matter?

Theology matters because God matters. Theology, done properly, is the Bible prompting us to articulate our vision of God. The less articulate we are, we power down. The more articulate, the clearer, the more biblical, we power up and are enabled to live in new ways that show God really matters.

Theology matters because community matters. Theology connects us to one another through shared discourse and agreed upon categories. Ultimately, what unifies us is not a shared experience but shared beliefs.

Theology matters because mission matters. When living for Christ gets tough and even friends may fall away, our theological convictions remain close friends. They keep us going when truth is the only power left for missionality to stay alive.

What is the central task of the theologian?

To love the Triune God wholeheartedly, according to the Bible. Nothing complicates theology like academic detachment or worldly self-display or career ambition. Central to everything else about a theologian is a tender heart toward God, reverent toward the Scriptures.

How would you respond to those who say, “I’m not a theologian”?

I’d start out pretty nice: “Okay. God has called you to be a musician. Great.” Then I’d show my true colors: “But you cannot be the musician God wants you to be without going deeper than that. You need to think biblically about who God is, who you are, what’s gone wrong, what God has done about it through Christ, and where it’s all going. That’s theology. It changes how you see everything. So unless you want to be a shallow musician, you need to become a theologian/musician. And you can be.”

What advice would you give to the average Christian who loves Jesus and the church, but needs to grow theologically?

Here’s one way to jump in. Pull some friends together, everybody buy a copy of Driscoll and Breshears, Doctrine, and work through it together. Check out the small group suggestions on pages 437-450. Read it slowly. Embrace the difficulty. Look up every word you don’t understand. Mark up your copy with questions and highlights. Get mad if you have to. But pray to God for clarity, and he’ll give it. As you read, keep checking it against the Bible, examine what your friends say too, and don’t let go until you really know what you believe. You will never be the same again.

We know heretics are bad theologians, but can one be a bad Reformed theologian? How?

Our minds were created to admire grandeur and coherence and challenge. Reformed theology provides all that, plus more. So we like it. But given our wickedness, the very excellence of Reformed theology can make us weird. We can admire our theology of God rather than God, because the theology itself really is gorgeous – but only as a dim reflection of the One described there.

Worse yet, we can admire ourselves for being so smart: “We get it, we’re Reformed, we’re not like those Arminian idiots over there in that other group.” God hates pride. All pride. Reformed pride.

Final thought. Through the years I have learned a lesson: Everything man-made will let us down. Everything, eventually. Even theological systems. Only Jesus will never let us down. We appreciate Reformed theology. But let’s put our final trust here: the risen Lord Jesus Christ himself, our dear Friend, the only Savior of sinners.

Previous Interviews:

Experiential Theology with Tom Nettles
Theology and Preaching with John Koessler
Theology and Worship with Mike Cosper

Mike Cosper is the Worship and Arts Pastor at Sojourn Community Church in Louisvilly, KY. Sojourn is a beautiful model of gospel-centered community, ministry, mission, and worship, and when I thought of talking with someone about worship and theology I immediately emailed Mike. He was kind enough to share some great thoughts with us.

What place does theology have in corporate worship?

Our worship services are necessarily theological. It’s never a question of whether or not we’ll do theology when we gather – it’s a question of what kind of theology, or of what depth of theology we will do.

The goal of a pastor of worship is to accurately and thoroughly give voice to the theology that shapes the life and practices of the church, and the goal of the gathering is to give language and expression to the core values an theology of the church.

How explicit should our theology be in corporate worship?

Our theology should be very clear. What we do when we gather shapes the ways our people think about life and faith, and we are either equipping them with meat and substance or with platitudes and sentimentalism.

I like how Kevin Twit puts it: “our gatherings should prepare people for their encounter with death.”

How does theology shape what you do at Sojourn gathered?

We have a strong liturgical structure for our gatherings, and that flows from our theology of worship and our ecclesiology (theology of the church).

A biblical theology of worship tells us that Christians have only one call to worship (the call of the Gospel) and only one worship leader, our singing savior, Jesus Christ. Biblical texts like the book of Hebrews and Revelation show us that our Savior is at the center of worship, leading us in praise to the Father, while the Father calls us to praise the Son. The Spirit of God inhabits our hearts, makes the Gospel call effective, and stirs us to respond in worship.

Functionally, our gathering is shaped to remember the Gospel, remember the work of Christ, and celebrate him as the center and leader of our worship. For instance, we regularly try to remind the church that when they worship, they join the Son in glorifying the Father, they join the Father in glorifying the Son, and they join the Spirit in glorifying the Father and the Son. We also remind them that the worship leader on the platform isn’t doing something priestly or sacramental, but is just another member of the body of Christ. Only Jesus can lead us to throne room, only Jesus can make God’s presence powerful and intimate, and only the Holy Spirit can stir hearts. Worship leaders (and congregations, for that matter) merely participate in the glory-sharing work of the Trinity. So we cultivate humility and simplicity in our attitudes towards worship.

Ecclesiology is really important too. In the New Testament, we see the concept of worship as a time and place reality thoroughly deconstructed by Jesus (John 4), Paul (Romans 12), and the author of Hebrews. So one could be left with an understanding of worship that asks, “why gather?” I’ve developed a little memory device that helps teach the way that the Bible explains worship. It’s called “Worship 1,2,3”

Worship has ONE object – the triune God, revealed in the scripture as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Worship has TWO contexts – the broad context of all of life (unceasing, living-sacrifice worship) and the narrow context of the gathered church, who gathers to encourage and build one another up, offering a foretaste of what is to come when Christ returns an heaven and earth are joined together. (Jeremy Begbie calls this an “echo of the future,” which is one of the coolest phrases in all of Christendom.)

Worship has THREE audiences – Our Triune God is both the object of worship and one of its audiences, but the scriptures also tell us to pay attention to two other audiences – the Gathered Church (Colossians 3:16, Hebrews 10:23-24), and the watching world (1 Corinthians 14:22-40).

Can theology in worship be done poorly? How?

One way I think about this question is to refer to the device above. If one confuses the object of worship with the audience of worship, or diminishes one context over another, or one audience over another, it gets confusing, weird, or worse.

For instance, many worship leaders have encountered the eager, young theologian in their church who makes this statement: “Since worship is to God alone, we should only sing songs that speak directly to Him. We should not sing songs that address people, since we aren’t worshipping people.”

It’s a sweet sentiment, but it ignores the reality that our singing is for God and his church, and ignores the evidence from the Psalms that singing to people about God is clearly a welcome practice for God’s people.

Some movements have so emphasized the presence of outsiders that there is no meat, no substance, to build up the body of Christ. Other movements within the church deemphasize the Gathered body of Christ, and deemphasize the worship of the local church as a direct or indirect result. I recently heard Alan Hirsch essentially argue against the church gathering to sing because he believed that the oddity of the church gathering to sing was a hindrance to mission. It will make outsiders feel awkward, as the whole gathering of the church tends to do. I think the Bible, and history for that matter, would argue that singing is a deeply human act. In our disaffected and dehumanized techno-culture, singing is something that rehumanizes us in the church, reconnects us to one another and to history. Hirsch and others need to address the plain reality that the Bible calls us to gather and SING. The lack of a communal singing culture in the West today is a sad fact, but isn’t a reality that the church must embrace for the sake of mission. Go to a U2 or Springsteen concert and tell me people don’t want to gather and sing anymore. Maybe we just aren’t giving them anything worth singing at our gatherings… Which is a whole different issue altogether.

Worship is certainly an all of life reality, but it is also a practice that we embrace as a foretaste of heaven, gathering with Christ’s church out of exile, and joining our voices in hopes of a glorious day that is yet to come.

In a totally different stream of thought, I think many churches lack any real theology for worship. No one (including the leaders) know why the church is gathering or what their goal in gathering is. The service is only governed by a quest for a certain kind of emotional high, or a certain kind of mood. Our ecclesiology becomes a measuring stick by which we know the mission is accomplished in our gathering. Without any biblical, rooted ecclesiology, what is guiding us?

What advice would you give church leaders who recognize the need for theology to impact and characterize their worship gatherings?

One time, after a Sojourn service many years ago, Chip Stam (a prof at Southern Seminary and a brilliant mind on issues related to worship) gave me the most painful critique I’ve ever received. Essentially, he told me that the music was great, and the service was well executed for what it was, but that apart from the sermon, the entire thing could have been held in a Synagogue or a Unitarian church, and no one would have been offended. In a similar vein, I heard C.J. Mahaney say that at Sovereign Grace, they want to make sure no one who attends can ever think that worship is possible without a mediator.

I was crushed by Chip’s critique. Especially when I realized he was right. His comment spurred a journey that has led us to the liturgical model we practice now, where the Gospel is clearly proclaimed throughout the movements of the service. Liturgy isn’t the only way to prevent that from happening, but I would want to challenge worship leaders to ask what their measuring stick is in their planning. What is a well-planned service?

The Gospel needs to be proclaimed and celebrated in a way that prepares people for all of life – suffering, death, joy, births, successes, and failures. Our understanding of the depths of the Gospel will have a direct impact on the way we proclaim it in our gatherings. As John Wesley once said, people won’t leave a service quoting a sermon as often as they’ll leave singing a song. Worship leaders need to be pastors and theologians so that they can skillfully teach through songs and services what the Gospel has to offer us in each facet of life, so that when suffering and hard times come, they have the words in their hearts and minds to cling to the cross.

Be sure to share your thoughts on worship and Mike’s words in the comments. If you are unfamiliar with some of the music released through Sojourn be sure to check out their albums Before the Throne, Advent Songs, and Over the Grave.

Previous Interviews:

Experiential Theology with Tom Nettles
Theology and Preaching with John Koessler