Not Like the Others

“One of these things is not like the others
 One of these things just doesn’t belong.”

— Sesame Street, before its writers went woke

One of the great privileges of celebrating the Lord’s Supper is that any male believer is welcome to participate vocally. That principle draws its authority from 1 Corinthians 14:31, which says concerning church meetings, “You can all prophesy one by one, so that all may learn and all be encouraged.” The “all” in that verse means “all you men who are gifted prophets”.

We know that because the word Paul uses for “prophets” in the passage is masculine. The Greek language has a separate word for female prophets that we translate into English as “prophetesses”. That’s not the word Paul used in this chapter.

Further, in order to remove any doubt about what he is teaching, Paul goes on in verses 33-35 to reinforce that women should keep silent in church meetings. They have their own distinct role in church life that does not involve verbal leadership.

From Prophecy to Worship

We no longer have biblical prophets of either sex in or out of church meetings, so when we use this passage as our authority for men assuming the responsibility for praying, teaching or speaking in meetings of the church today, we are applying scripture to our own era, not interpreting what it meant to its original readers. We are extrapolating from the text to find God-pleasing ways to behave in our own situation, not claiming to be New Testament-style prophets.

Nevertheless, we can confirm the validity of the principle from other scriptures. For example, Paul instructs Timothy, “men [anēr, meaning “males”] should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling”. Accordingly, the churches in which I fellowship encourage men to worship audibly in church, and women to worship in the quietness of their own hearts. Moreover, it’s not just men but “all” men, picking up the universal aspect of the principle from 1 Corinthians 14.

All men? There’s an element of risk in that, isn’t there.

Privilege and Responsibility

Risky or not, we men have the privilege of giving out hymns, praying on behalf of the congregation, and sharing the scriptures with one another during our communion time. In keeping with the theme of the Lord’s Supper (“Do this in remembrance of me”), our church encourages the brothers in Christ to speak primarily about our Savior rather than other biblical subjects. It is not a teaching time so much as a time of worship and praise to the Father for the gift of his beloved Son, so we do not require evidence of a teaching gift to participate. We also encourage the men to keep their participation relatively brief, bearing in mind that they are speaking on behalf of the congregation, not themselves, and that other men may feel prompted to participate too. They have that right, based again on the teaching in 1 Corinthians 14, so it is not reasonable or orderly for one man to take up all the available time, even if he has something to share that he believes important and even if he is a better-than-average orator.

Any privilege is also a responsibility. Peter writes, “whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God”. Any man who takes on the task of sharing the word of God in worship at any length beyond mere quotation is also teaching, introducing his own ideas about how best to explain the text to others. Those who do so will have their work assessed by Christ. Accordingly, when we men act on our privilege of audibly participating in worship, we are assuming the attendant responsibility and risk of judgment. That means we are wise to represent what the Bible teaches faithfully and accurately, particularly where it concerns Christ. We must rightly divide the word of truth, making distinctions the scriptures make.

Rightly Dividing

The word translated “rightly dividing” in the KJV (and “accurately handling”, among other things in more modern translations) is the Greek orthotomeo, from orthos, meaning “upright”, and tomoteros, meaning “to cut”. Though some dislike the concept of cutting or dividing, it is baked right into literal translation of the original language. In rightly dividing the word of truth, a Bible teacher distinguishes one thing from another, separating concepts, words and ideas that the writers of scripture used to communicate truth so that we get from them every nuance they intended.

Balancing the distinction-making is the ortho part: we have to make distinctions rightly. That means we distinguish when the text gives us good reason, but we also recognize when the writers of the Bible are using words more or less as synonyms. For example, Christ’s roles as intercessor, mediator and advocate are not identical. If we lump them all together as some do, we lose something. So we “divide” these words, explaining how their meanings differ, complementing and supplementing one another. But we do not make distinctions where scripture does not. For example, the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of God are essentially synonyms. That’s how the gospel writers use them. We should not hallucinate distinctions where they do not exist. We must be right about our distinction-making.

So then, in approaching two or more scriptural ideas or concepts, we must ask the question in the old Sesame Street song: is one of these things really “not like the others”, and if so, in which way? We want to make legitimate distinctions that edify others, not become fussbudgets insisting on doing it our way.

The Error of Conflation

The opposite error to over-division is conflation, where we fuse or blend ideas that do not actually belong together. Recently, I sat through a Lord’s Supper in which a brother conflated two scriptural ideas that are profoundly un-alike. One of these things is not like the other.

His first quote came from Psalm 18, where David says concerning God, “He brought me out into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me.” The speaker’s focus was on the word “delight”. He blurred this concept together with God’s love for the world in John 3:16, as if “delight” and “love” are essentially synonyms. That is not the case. He went on to speak about how God delights in the human race, an idea that definitely needed more processing and qualification than he gave it, which was next to none. Having unintentionally introduced this thoroughly misleading note into our gathering, the speaker sat down and let others run with his thought. And run they did. The next fellow up must have believed what he had heard was accurate; he reiterated it as fact amidst his further reflections.

However, we are not responding to error in real time, where it often slips by through inattention, but after an appropriate period of reflection. So, let’s start with this basic observation: we cannot extrapolate from one Old Testament saint’s personal experience to God’s love for the world displayed in Christ at the cross.

The Delightful David

What made David delightful to the Lord in his day was his (relative) righteousness, and David makes this point in the next verse of Psalm 18: “The Lord dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands he rewarded me. For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.” He is speaking here of his dealings with Saul, as the superscription to the psalm indicates, in which he was scrupulously clean-handed. In this particular area of life, David was exemplary. Saul tried to murder David repeatedly over a period of something like eight years, while David refused to exact revenge on Saul on several occasions.

Of course, if we are rigidly literal, only the Lord Jesus could possibly fulfill ultimate righteousness, but there is indeed a sense in which, in his smaller, more limited way, David delighted the heart of God by imitating God’s own gracious behavior. Our Lord does not wish any to perish, but for all to come to repentance. That was always David’s desire for Saul, and his actions proved it.

David later made plenty of errors that did not delight the Lord at all, but those are not the subject of Psalm 18.

The Delightful World

When we move from the micro to the macro, from personal experience to soteriology (the study of salvation), we find it is simply untrue is that God delights in fallen humanity generally. Scripture does not teach that at all. We cannot insert ourselves into David’s psalm and have his confidence of deliverance unless we have behaved the way David did. Have you loved your enemies and prayed for those who would have done you harm given the opportunity? I’m not sure I have. Not consistently. Shall we talk about the unsaved world and its “delightful” behavior? Let’s not.

In fact, God’s love for the world displayed at the cross of Christ had nothing to do with his delight in people who lived and thought like David. The scripture tells us that plainly in numerous places. Delight is an emotion. Love is an action word that requires no emotional component at all. If we consider God’s emotions toward humanity as he sent his Son to die on our behalf, we are better off quoting Romans than the Psalms. In Romans, Paul gives us this compilation of OT quotations concerning the character of fallen human beings, Jew and Gentile alike:

“ ‘None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.’ ‘Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.’ ‘The venom of asps is under their lips.’ ‘Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.’ ‘Their feet are swift to shed blood; in their paths are ruin and misery, and the way of peace they have not known.’ ‘There is no fear of God before their eyes.’ ”

This is how the world looked to God as he contemplated sending his Son on our behalf. It was anything but delightful to him.

A Happy Corrective

God’s delight in a few rare individuals, many of whose faith is chronicled in Hebrews 11, did not in any way affect his big picture view of the condition of fallen humanity as a whole, which was abominable. When he displayed his love for the world in offering Christ on our behalf, it was not because of any righteousness in mankind that provoked delight in him, but because of inestimable grace proceeding out of his own character.

Happily, our Lord’s Supper provided a corrective for anyone paying attention. Another brother got up, and rather than trashing the error of conflation I had regrettably been chewing on for the best part of half an hour, pointed out that if we want to take the measure of God’s love, it is simply this: that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Nothing in us provoked God’s actions or Christ’s sacrifice on our behalf. It was all him, every last bit.

Bingo! Exactly right. Back to worship.

A Measure of Risk

I value our times together when the floor is open for any man to worship the Lord. Of course, that comes with a measure of risk. Risk to the accuracy of our theology when error remains unaddressed, as sometimes occurs. Risk to the speaker when he teaches egregious error about the character of God. Risk to the rising blood pressure of our many mature sisters in the faith who know the Word better than some who presume to expound it, yet voluntarily remain mute in obedience to the word of God. That’s no small ask, and you all have my gratitude. I believe the risk is worth it. Paul did. But we men need to keep it in mind before leaping blithely to our feet to opine about Christ or his work with questionable accuracy and minimal forethought.

We all need to learn when “one of these things is not like the others” … then leave that thought at home.