Doxology And Theology Quotes

Bad theology leads to despair, and proud theology leads to disdain. But humble, heartfelt Reformed theology should always lead to doxology.

There is a beauty in paradox when it comes to talking about things of ultimate concern. Paradox works against our tendency to stay superficial in our faith, or to rest on easy answers or categorical thinking. It breaks apart our categories by showing the inadequacy of them and by pointing to a reality larger than us, the reality of gloria, of light, of beyond-the-beyond. I like to call it paradoxology—the glory of paradox, paradox-doxology—which takes us somewhere we wouldn’t be capable of going if we thought we had everything all wrapped up, if we thought we had attained full comprehension. The commitment to embracing the paradox and resisting the impulse to categorize people (ourselves included) is one of the ways we follow Jesus into that larger mysterious reality of light and love.

R. C. would later say that theology is doxology; that is to say that studying God and knowing God lead to praising God and worshiping God.

Theology is about God and should reflect a doxological tone that glorifies him.

theology is for doxology and devotion—that is, the praise of God and the practice of godliness. It should therefore be presented in a way that brings awareness of the divine presence.

True faith calls on the name of Jesus for salvation from death, hell, sin, and Satan. Therefore, sound theology has its source in a founding drama with its revealed doctrines. Through the drama and the doctrine together the Spirit produces doxology — repentance and trust — and brings us into the unfolding story of God, no longer as spectators, but as disciples on pilgrimage to the everlasting city.

All of our faith and practice arise out of the drama of Scripture, the “big story” that traces the plot of history from creation to consummation, with Christ as its Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. And out of the throbbing verbs of this unfolding drama God reveals stable nouns — doctrines. From what God does in history we are taught certain things about who he is and what it means to be created in his image, fallen, and redeemed, renewed, and glorified in union with Christ. As the Father creates his church, in his Son and by his Spirit, we come to realize what this covenant community is and what it means to belong to it; what kind of future is promised to us in Christ, and how we are to live here and now in the light of it all. The drama and the doctrine provoke us to praise and worship — doxology — and together these three coordinates give us a new way of living in the world as disciples.

people to ourselves rather than Jesus, and then wonder why power has left the pulpit and why the deep theological treasures of some of the old hymns have degenerated into songs that exalt us above the glory of our Creator. Despite our pretensions, our pride grows

I begin with a singular and passionate conviction: that the proper aim of all true theology is doxology. Theology that does not begin and end in worship is not biblical at all, but is rather the product of western philosophy.

What we find enjoyable we naturally find shareable. Why is this? Because joy shared is joy intensified. Shakespeare said it this way, “Joy delights in joy.” We love to see others discover joy in the things we have discovered joy in, and our joy is increased when they have praised what we have shared. We see this everywhere. When you hear a really funny joke, you call your best friend and laugh together. When you hear an incredible song, you post it to Facebook to let everyone hear it. When you take an adorable picture of your child, you send it to your extended family to get their “oh’s” and “ah’s.” This is the way God created us, because this is the way God Himself is.

We cannot teach what we’re not living, but the opposite is also true; we will naturally teach what we are living.

in worship we cease to become a collection of mere individuals but through the work of worship we “become something corporate.

Franzmann, a Bible interpreter and theologian, was also a hymn writer. In a hymn on the Reformation, he concludes with a beautiful, unforgettable prayer. He asks that the Holy Spirit would breathe on his “cloven church once more, That in these gray and latter days, There may be men whose life is praise, Each life a high doxology, to Father, Son, and unto Thee.”3 When our theology becomes doxology, it not only is sung but creates lives of “high doxology”—lives in which we truly no longer live, but having been crucified with Christ, we live in and through him (cf. Gal. 2:20). As Jesus prayed, “that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us. . . . I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one” (John 17:21, 23).

For Watts, the doxological always followed the theological.

the ultimate goal of the universe is not soteriological but doxological;

doxology can help stabilize theology. It is very difficult to sing bad theology.

Gifting may gain a man a platform, but character is what gives him a voice.

unreliable, and at best useful.

People who would find it odd if we repeated the Gloria Patri or Doxology four times don't find it odd that we repeat the refrains to these choruses numerous times, even if they are less theologically significant.

Respect of and care for all of God's creatures is the primary means of doxological acknowledgment of God the creator in creation.

the threat of life, so palpable among us, is a threat that can and will be countered by the Creator who continues the work of governance, order, and sustenance. Creation faith is the summons and invitation to trust the Subject of these verbs, even in the face of day-to-day, palpable incursions of chaos. The testimony of Israel pushes toward a verdict that the One embedded in these doxological statements can be trusted in the midst of any chaos, even that of exile and finally that of death.

Social justice without the gospel is a counterfeit, merely a Band-Aid to a gunshot wound.

We lead people to ourselves rather than Jesus, and then wonder why power has left the pulpit and why the deep theological treasures of some of the old hymns have degenerated into songs that exalt us above the glory of our Creator.

Reviewing how American memory of the Pilgrims and the First Thanksgiving has changed over time exposes our fundamental self-centeredness, for we see how readily we reconstruct the past in self-serving ways, using history to further our agendas rather than learning from it to challenge our hearts. But we need not despair. In God’s divine economy, guilt acknowledged calls forth grace, and grace received gives rise to gratitude, culminating in the second predictable hallmark of Christian reflection: praise to our gracious Lord. Theology should always lead to doxology, J. I. Packer once observed. I think the same is true of history. If theology teaches us the nature of God, history—viewed through eyes of faith—reminds us of our need for God. “If You, LORD, should mark iniquities,” asks the 130th Psalm, “O Lord, who could stand?” Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. (PSALM 84:5 NIV)

The doxological rule that is part and parcel of the transfigural framework of interpretation is similar: Choose the reading that most glorifies God and that most promotes the light of Christ in the life of the reader.