Results tagged “New Year” from Reformation21 Blog

Why We Love New Beginnings

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We all love new beginnings. When we enter a new year, most of us tend to think back on the past year--we look back at the accomplishments and failures and wonder if the forthcoming year will yield more progress and a better sense of achievement. When we make New Year's resolutions, we are reacting to regrets that we have had over the past year's activities and events. Usually, it is physical or financial failures with which we are most dismayed. It is not altogether wrong for us to have such regrets. There is something good about self-assessment and self-examination. But, more painful than admitting our lack of self-control in diet, exercise and spending is facing up to our lack of self-control and zeal in the realm of spiritual life and devotion.

We all feel the guilt and shame of our sin. We are dismayed by how little we gave ourselves to reading the Scriptures and to prayer. We know that we should have used our God-given gifts to build up His people in a much greater way than we did through the year. We recognize that we could have given more of our time and energy to care for those in our church and reach out with the Gospel to our  neighbors and co-workers. We admit that we could have opened our homes to those we don't know well in our church and to our neighbors more than we did for the sake of the Gospel. We are frustrated that we repeatedly gave into particular sins, scarred our consciences, and grieved the Holy Spirit by whom we were sealed. All of this remorse weighs heavily on our hearts--and it is right that it does. But is there no hope of restoration and renewal for us as we enter into a New Year? There is hope for us--and more than we could ever imagine--in the Gospel.

As we search the Scriptures we find the glorious truth that Jesus made us part of His new creation through His death and resurrection (2 Corinthians 5:14). When Christ stepped out of the tomb, He did so as the first-fruits of the New Creation. His bodily resurrection guaranteed the spiritual (John 5:25) and bodily resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:20-22) of all those united to Him--and secured the ultimate restoration of all things at the end of time (Acts 3:21; 2 Peter 3:12-13). In His resurrection from the dead, Jesus redeemed our calendars. He forgave us all of our sin. He gave us power to die to self and live to righteousness this year and all the years of our lives.

In this sense, every day is New Year's Day for the believer. All of this is unfolded for us in marvelous typological detail in the record of the Passover and the Exodus. God not only redeemed Israel from the bondage of Egypt--He realigned their calendar at the Exodus (Exodus 12:1) to give them an anticipation of the new creation that He would bring about through the  death of His Son--the true and greater Passover Lamb (1 Corinthians 5:5).

It's important for us to realize that the institution of the Passover occurred between the 9th  and the 10th plagues. God differentiated between His church and the world. He kept His plagues from falling on His people (Exodus 9:4; 11:7). However, when God pronounced the 10th and most severe plague, He did not differentiate between the church and the world. Members of the Old Covenant church were, thereby, shown that they deserved judgment as much as the Egyptians. We all deserve judgment for our sin and rebellion against God. Our failures are not merely imperfections in our goals or character. They are acts of rebellion against the infinitely holy God who made us. In the tenth plague, God taught Israel that all men--Jew and Gentile--deserve judgment. Phil Ryken explains this so well when he writes:

The Israelites must have been shocked to discover that their lives were in danger. All the previous plagues had left them unscathed because God had made a distinction between his people and Pharaoh's people. While chaos engulfed their oppressors, the Israelites had watched from the safety of Goshen. From this they learned that they were God's special people. This may have tempted them to believe that they were more righteous than the Egyptians, indeed, that they could do no wrong. But the truth was that they deserved to die every bit as much as their enemies. Indeed, if God had not provided a means for their salvation, they would have suffered the loss of every last one of their firstborn sons. The Israelites were as guilty as the Egyptians, and in the final plague God taught them about their sin and his salvation.1

The only thing that would make a difference for Israel was the blood of a lamb sprinkled on the doorposts of their homes. Every Israelite who acted in faith according to God's promise and put the blood on the doorpost was delivered from the judgment of the destroyer, and their first-born sons were spared. This was, of course, because God's judgment fell on the substitutionary Passover Lamb. In this way, God was pointing His people to the Person and work of Christ.

The Passover Lamb was given to God's people as an annual reminder of the need that they had to feed on the Lamb by which they were redeemed. All of the instructions about the observance of the feast were given to reflect something of the redemption that we have in Christ. He was roasted under the fire of God's wrath. He commands us to feed upon His flesh and blood by faith. He is a sufficient meal for the souls of His people. Even the relationship between the substitutionary lamb and the 10th  plague were not incidental. The first-born sons were spared on account of the blood of the Passover Lamb because God would not spare His own first-born--Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 5:5; Romans 8:32).

All of this was prefaced in the institution of the Passover when God said, "This month shall be  your beginning of months; it shall be  the first month of the year to you." The redemption that Israel experienced in the blood of the typological Lamb turned the clocks back to the first day of the first month of the first year. It was as if God was taking everything back to creation again. He was taking His people back to the time before there was sin--and was pointing them forward to the day when He would fully and finally make everything new. In the redemption that we have in Christ we have experienced new creation in our souls. In His death on the cross and in His resurrection, Jesus was the true Passover Lamb (1 Cor. 5:5) and brought about the greater Exodus (Exodus 9:31).

The true Exodus is experienced in its full import through the sacrifice of the Lamb of God. This truth is applicable to the daily lives of believers in the New Covenant. For example, in Colossians 2:20-3:4, the Apostle Paul tells us that we have died with Christ, been raised with Him and that our lives are now hidden with Him in God (Col. 3:1-4). In light of that truth we do not turn to rigid asceticism for godliness (2:20-23); rather, we recognize that we have been made new creatures by virtue of our union with Christ in His death and resurrection. We are then told that we are to put off the old and put on the new (Col. 3:5-17). So much of our Christian life, and the power we long for, comes from knowing our position in Christ, namely, that He has made us to be spiritually resurrected beings--part of the new creation.

Many of us see the New Year as an opportunity to do better. We long for a fresh start. Often, this results in wishful or sentimental "New Year's resolutions." At the core of our being, we do not need New Year's resolutions--we need a "New Years Theology;" we need a theology of new creation. We need to know that we have been made new creatures if we are to live in newness of life for Christ. More than anything else in this year ahead, we continually need to hear the voice of the One who cried out, "Behold, I make all things new." May God grant us the grace to live as those who have been made new creatures and have had our calendars redeemed by the One who lived and died and rose again for us.


1. Philip Graham Ryken Exodus: Saved For God's Glory (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2005) p. 326.

*This is an adaptation of a post that originally appeared on the Christward Collective.

Death, The New Year And The Hope of Christ

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2016 was a sobering year for our celebrity-driven culture. A recent CNN article reminded us of the many well known individuals that we lost over the course of the last year. More names have been added just in this past week. More than usual, it seems that many of these celebrities and artists lost in 2016 were icons of culture--a part of people's personal identities and memories. Social media has provided an unprecedented forum for shared grief and lament. (On a humorous note, one man even started a Go Fund Me page to "protect Betty White from 2016".)

From a biblical perspective, these social laments don't go far enough; and, sadly they seem to miss the point altogether. 2016 has not been all that unusual of a year--although it may have been more providentially jarring for some. People are shocked by tragedy and tragedies are supposed to be shocking. But tragedies are not surprises. They are reminders. Tragedies help to awaken us out of an illusion of what is not to what is actually the norm in this world. There is nothing more normal to history than evil and death. It is not strange. It is tragically normal.

I heard someone once say that people in this world are like people in prison who pretend most of their lives that they are not in prison. And every once in a while when tragedy strikes, they are forced to come out and stare at the bars and be reminded of what is real.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a Christmas letter from prison during WWII in which he said, "A prison cell like this is a good analogy for Advent. One waits, hopes, does this or that--ultimately negligible things--the door is locked and can only be opened from the outside."

So what is the biblical lesson and answer in the face of a tragic reality? Can Christianity offer any hope in the New Year in the face of death? To the surprise of many, the Christian answer does not sugar-coat reality. The Christian Gospel has always been set in the midst of tragedy--from the cradle to the cross.

Matthew's Gospel shockingly records how Jesus' birth led to the slaughter of innocent children in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:16-18). Why would the Lord want such a story associated with Christ's coming? How could God warn Joseph while allowing those little boys to be killed? Why would He allow any things like that in the first place?

It's not an easy question. And the Bible doesn't candy-coat the response. This is the reality of a fallen world. This was the reality of Jesus' birth, the kind of world He came to--a world where tragedies are not surprises, where 152,000 people die every day around the world, where 21,000 children die every day, where the U.S. alone averages 5 child murders a day. And this is actually what the Gospel story is about--not a shallow joy and peace, but a deep joy and peace in the face of a tragic world because of a Savior has come to redeem us.

The fact that an angel had to warn Joseph tells us that the incarnation was real. God really became man, which means his life was truly threatened. God really and truly came into the reality of a fallen world, into the valley of the shadow of death, and became exposed and vulnerable.

The fact that Jesus got away and survived the slaughter of Bethlehem was actually for the comfort of Bethlehem; it gives us the only answer and comfort possible in the face of tragedy.

One got away. And because of the one who got away, there is hope. Like Moses before him, Jesus got away at his birth to provide a greater salvation. Jesus survived as an infant so that he could later do something no one else could do for His people. When the dragon of death sought to devour Him and his brethren (Rev.12:1-17), He was rescued for the proper time in order to go under the waters of death, and to destroy death once for all, and to crush the serpent's head (Gen.3:15, Heb.2:14). He became the firstborn from the dead (Col.1:18), the one who truly got away, and the one who goes before us to lead us all the way to the promised land.

So what is the real answer to death and the New Year? As we face the reality of a fallen world and the fact that "a few more years shall roll, a few more seasons come and we shall be with those that rest asleep within the tomb" (Horatius Bonar), we must recognize that what Bonhoeffer said is true: "The door is locked and can only be opened from the outside." There is one real hope in all this world. And it's not a sentimental movie answer, that we all become "one with the Force and live on in all things". It's a very real, gritty, tragic, hope-filled answer - that God gave his only Son, that he came into this fallen world, that he came to be with us, to touch all of our uncleanness, even death itself - to break our chains and to lead us out.

Today the gate is open, and all who enter in, 
Will find a Father's welcome, and pardon for their sin. 
The past shall be forgotten, a present joy be given, 
A future grace be promised, a glorious crown in heaven. (Oswald Allen, 1861)

Matt Foreman is the pastor of Faith Reformed Baptist Church.  Matt is a graduate of Furman University and Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. He currently serves as the Chairman of the General Assembly for the Reformed Baptist Network, as secretary for the RBN Missions Committee, and as lecturer in Practical Theology at Reformed Baptist Seminary. Matt also writes music for worship; some of which be found here. Matt and his wife, MaryScott, have four children: Katy (2002), Darsie (2004), Liam (2007), and Molly (2010).

'Tis the season for procrastination

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It happens a fair amount in December, and probably reaches its peak in the week between Christmas and the new year: we assure ourselves of all the things we will do once January begins - reverse the Christmas excesses, revive last year's undertakings, restore the things that are broken. We will begin again, again. We will make everything new, tomorrow.

The turn of the year - like a birthday or other significant anniversary - can be an appropriate time for review and reflection, for the making or making fresh of a covenant with the Lord. Such times can be helpful waymarkers in our pilgrimage, and it is not wrong to harness the sense of significance that such occasions present.

But we ought to make sure that such occasions do not become for us excuses, a means of assuaging our consciences by the promise that we will reform another time. Extravagant promises for tomorrow are worth nothing compared with definite obedience today. If something ought to be done, then it ought to be done now, and not postponed until tomorrow. Perhaps you are intending to begin a Scripture reading programme on the first day of January (perhaps one of those that will, you have been assured, see you read the whole Bible seven times over the course of the coming twelvemonth). Wonderful, but have you read and fed upon a verse or two today, or have you told yourself that you will get cracking in a couple of days time? Perhaps you have promised yourself that you will invest more in your wife and children, show greater measures of self-control with regard to particular appetites, embrace more conscientiously particular duties. All well and good, but if a task is worth doing, it is worth doing well. If it is worth starting, it is worth finishing. And if it is right, it ought to be begun without delay.

By all means let the first day of the year be a day of renewed vows and reinvigorated intentions. But do not let it become an excuse for procrastination, a way to put off until tomorrow what ought to be done or begun today.