Lipscomb on the Demise of Church Attendance in the Cities (1878)

In the late 1870s several noticed a decline in church attendance among the urban poor. David Lipscomb offers his own opinion as to why there is such a decline which, he thinks, is primarily a northern phenomenon (though he does think New Orleans may fit).

The urban poor do not participate in urban church life because most urban churches cater to the wealthy and rich. They build “fine houses” whose surroundings are unsuited to the working class, employ articulate, educated ministers whom the poor do not understand, and they seek monied classes because money is the life-blood of their grand buildings and educated ministry.

While the poor received Jesus gladly, they do not flock to the urban churches whose edifices are geared toward the cultured, educated and wealthy. The reason why this is the case is obvious to Lipscomb. They do not reject the “religion of Christ,” but they reject the power, wealth and pride of Christianity’s teachers. Even when these churches set up parachurch organizations that reach out to the poor the distance between rich and poor is maintained as the church folk are not in the homes of the poor sharing their meals and trials.

When Christianity assumes power and sides with the wealthy, the poor are oppressed. They are driven away by the wealth. Jesus, according to Lipscomb, walked with the poor, became poor for their sakes and ministered to the poor. Churches ought, to follow the model of Jesus, situate themselves so that the poor feel at home in their communities. Churches should function incarnatinally, that is, become poor so that the poor might hear the good news.

This is a recurrent theme in the history of the church. We see it prominently when the church became a state power as monastics sought a simpler live in the fourth century. We see it in the early thirteenth century with the rise of the poverty-oriented Franciscans. We see it in the sixteenth century with some of the early Anabaptists. Lipscomb is part of this tradition as he advocates for the poor and calls the church to modesty and simplicity for the sake of the poor.

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David Lipscomb, “Church Pews,” Gospel Advocate 20 (5 December 1878) 762.

We print in another column an article on the decrease in attendance at religious services and contributions in the cities. It is from the Cincinnati Commercial. We take it from the Christian Standard, which republishes it, and while recognizing its truthfulness, endeavors to explain why it is so in Cincinnati especially. We suppose there is less of this tendency to neglect religious services in our Southern cities than in those further North, new Orleans perhaps, excepted. We have not the least doubt but that the public school system there has done much to spread infidelity int he land. Wit it comes an indifference to religious services, and the spending of the Lord’s day in frolic and pleasure-seeking. But the influence is spreading in all our cities. The writer in the Commercial gives some of the reasons that are doubtless correct. The effort to adopt everything to the desires and tastes of the rich and cultured has its influence to impress upon the people the idea that none save the rich and cultured are desired in the church. The surroundings plainly say that the ignorant, the poor, the rude, the unrefined are not needed here. But we are persuaded that there is still more than this. The preaching is of a character that suits the wealthy, the educated, the cultured. It is illy adapted to the understanding of the poor, the ignorant, the uncultured. He feels that the preaching is no more adapted to his  needs than the surroundings to his condition.

The poor and the rich themselves see the utter failure to reproduce the religion of Christ in the church work and life. Christ came to the poor and adapted himself to the surroundings and wants of the poor. All the surroundings of his religion were simple, plain and unostentatious. They were such as did not require large amounts of money to maintain them. The teachers of that religion were men of simplicity and self-sacrifice. They lived in a style that they were at home with the humble, the plain, the unlettered, the poor.

All this is greatly changed. The places of worship now are costly, showy, extravagantly built and furnished. The teachers in our cities seek to conform to the habits of the wealthy, seek their association and are not at home or in sympathy with the poor. Their style and habits of life require large sums of money, so that they are dependent upon and court the favor of the rich. The feeling of dependence upon the rich makes them wink at the sins, wrongs and crimes of the rich, until it has come to be recognized as true that a rich many will never be disciplined in a church. House are built, furnished, and religious worship so conducted that none can fail to see that the spirit of gospel is lost in these churches in the anxiety to attract the rich and cultured. They for whose favor these principles are forsaken, despise the treason to principles and to Christ that is made, and the poor known that it is not the church of Christ as he formed it.

When church privileges are provided for the poor as in the Bethel Mission spoken of, it is in a different association or home from the rich who provide. The distinctions of wealth are still kept up. The poor man is told to set ye there in that lowly seat, and the is made to feel that he is not the brother of the rich.

The effort to adapt religious worship and church surroundings to the taste of the wealthy, the refined, and cultured, creates the demand for immense sums of money to sustain the church services. They court the rich, they wink at the sins of those who are able to pay, but it is a source of demoralization to the teacher. He dare not teach the whole will of God to man. What preacher ever teaches the necessity of honesty, uprightness and integrity in business? What religious paper enforces these virtues so essential to the Christian character?

The teacher is tempted to seek more to please the people than to please God. The church in turn looks over all immoralities, if he can only draw the people. Men of bad morals frequently are sustained as teachers, if they have the art of drawing the people. We know of a number of popular preachers whose reputations for common honesty in their dealings is not above reproach. Bro. Franklin told me a few years ago a very popular and respected preaching consulting him about ‘putting away his wife,’ because she had not grown as he had after marriage, and could not make the appearance in society that was expected of his wife. A man who is thus striving to please the rich and cultured cannot please God. Cannot make a Christian impression upon a community. He cannot teach a church morality. Men of the world see this catering to the world and become disgusted, not at the Christian religion, but at the pretense of it given in the life of the preacher and of the church.

The whole effort to gratify the culture of the world in artistic speaking, music and surroundings that indicate wealth and luxury, attract the idle and curious, those anxious to be entertained, for a time, but as these efforts clog, as they sooner or later will, they drive these very persons from whom heart melody, heart service, heart worship were sacrificed away from the church. It substitutes a barren, empty formality for loving, hearty, worshipful service to God. The efforts to accommodate the religion of Christ to these luxurious and artistic surroundings destroy spiritual power and spiritual earnestness.

We believe the condition of the masses in the cities in the time of the Savior and the apostles was such that they more readily appreciated the expediencies of the religion of Jesus than those in the country. We believe it would be so today could that religion be brought to them as a practical working power among and in behalf of the poor for their good, as it was in the days of Christ and the apostles.

We believe there is nothing int he people’s forsaking the popular worship of the churches that indicates a rejection of the religion of Christ. The churches, one and all in the cities, have rejected that religion in their practice. We know not a single congregation that can lay the least shadow of a claim to exemplify that religion in the church worship or work, or in the lives of its members. We do not know a church that conducts all its worship according to the teaching of the Bible. The preacher comes to constitute the church. He does the worship; the members are entertained by him and pay on time for the entertainment. When he fails to entertain them they feel there is no reason why they should attend.

We believe many forsake the worship because they are made to feel that they are nonentities in the church. A brother gave as a reasons for ceasing to attend church not long since, that he attended for four years faithfully; he was never asked to pray; he was never spoken to in reference to any church work or worship during the time. He felt the church had no use for him; he ceased to attend. We believe the reason, if justly given, a good one. If a church has nothing for a member to do, he has no business in the church. We have but little faith in reforming old organizations. We would be rejoiced to see one earnest and faithful effort in a city, to establish and operate a church among the common people in fidelity to the principles, and in accordance with practices laid down in the New Testament. We believe the common people would gladly accept this church.

David Lipscomb on “Fine Houses for Worship”

When the Central Christian Church in Cincinnaiti, Ohio, completed its $140,000, 2000-seat French Gothic building in 1872, many–especially Benjamin Franklin and David Lipscomb–thought it was an outrage.  By 1892 there were rumors that the church needed to sell the building since many of its members had moved to the suburbs. The downtown, urban church could not sustain such a large, luxurious building.

Judging that the building itself was more a testament to human pride than it was to honor God, Lipscomb thought the concentration of such funds in a single building unwise–more than that, downright sinful. He preferred that instead of building one huge, lavish structure that it would have been better to build twelve modest buildings spread throughout the urban landscape.

His own history confirmed this for Lipscomb. When the “fine house” of Nashville–built in 1852 at the cost of $30,000–burned in 1857, Lipscomb rejoiced. Nashville then developed several churches over the years instead of one central congregation. Instead of one “fine house,” they had multiple “modest” houses, and the church grew in the city. Whereas in 1889,  Cincinnati only had 1000 Disciples in the city, Nashville had 2,500 (cf. Hooper, Crying in the Wilderness, 203).

Consequently, Lipscomb’s consistent counsel throughout the years was small, modest buildings rather than “fine houses.”  Smaller and more modest is better than large and lavish. This fit his own belief in the dignity and special character of the working/farming class. “The best community in the world,” he thought, “is that every man own his own land, small farms with industrious owners” (Gospel Advocate, 1875, 300). This is how1852 he thought about churches as well–relatively small, modest, every member involved, mutual edification, and shared leadership. Wealth, power and “fine houses” were corrupting influences that diverted the church from its mission to the poor and the lost.

Below is one article, among many, that articulates his perspective. In my next post, I will follow up with the theological ground that shapes Lipscomb’s perspective on “fine houses.” In the below article, Lipscomb states that building a “fine house” is to give up the “Christian spirit.” My next post will address that point.

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David Lipscomb, “Fine Houses for Worship,” Gospel Advoate 34 (28 January 1892) 52.

We understand the Standard calls in question our statement that there has been talk of selling the Central Church building up in Cincinnati, because too expensive to keep up. We are sure such has been the talk, and the reason was, so many of the wealthy members have moved to the suburbs and united with churches out of the city, those remaining are not able to keep the church up. We have heard of the talk down here. It come from persons doing business in Cincinnati, too.

We understand the Standard adds, that we seem to rejoice in the matter. We do not rejoice, but sorrow at the fewness or weakness of the disciples in Cincinnati, or elsewhere. This whole talk has been brought about by the society folks from Ohio and Missouri, decrying the destitution in Tennessee, in order to help fasten on us a society. We knew the cry was either hypocritical or founded on dense ignorance. We determined to expose it, so no honest man can hereafter raise the plea.

But, candidly, when the Central Church house was built and such a flourish made over it in the papers, we published that we believed it both a blunder and a sin, to put so much money in a house to be used only a few hours a week. We believed it would hinder instead of forward the cause of true religion in Cincinnati and elsewhere, hence was a blunder. We believed it a sin against God and his people to put such large sums of money in a building, when so many thousands and millions of our fellow creatures are suffering want and going down to hell for lack of the truth. We believed, and still believe, that this expenditure is not to honor God but to minister to human pride. This is sinful.

I still believe such a waste of means to gratify pomp or pride sin. I would have rejoiced if they had build a modest and economical house then. I will rejoice at anything that will now bring the church in the line of Christian propriety. Yes, I would rejoice if they would sell the house and build a dozen simple, modest houses for worship, that correspond to the principles and aims of the Christian religion. I would be glad if they would voluntarily do this without being forced to it; but, if they will not do it otherwise, I will be glad if they do it of necessity.

Once the disciples in Nashville built a fine house, when they ought to have built a half dozen modest ones. It was the occasion of trouble, and was burned up. I was in the pulpit at Philadelphia, church in Warren Co., with Bro. Nix Murphy, when I heard of it. I publicly expressed my joy at the result. I still think it was a blessing from God.

When I hear of a church setting out to build a fine house, I give that church up. Its usefulness as a church of Christ is at an end. The church at Dallas, Texas, has spent a large amount to build a house finer than any other house in the State. It has burdened itself with debt. It has shown its lack of the Christian spirit, and its promise for usefulness for the future is not flattering to my mind.

In  Arizona there is not a single preacher giving his time to reach the dying multitudes of sinners that people that State. A little handful built a house costing several thousand dollars, and have been compassing the whole land to get money to pay for it. People that star in that direction cannot convert sinners, and we believe it would be a blessed thing if the house were sold and the tempotation to travel in the wrong road taken out of their way. It is not Christian to spend the Lord’s money in this way, while sinners, ignolorant of the will of God, are dying all around them. My conscience has hurt me all th epast year at the appeals that have been made for this house through the Advocate without a protest from me. If half the money required to build this house had been spent in having the gospel preached in the State, a hundred fold more sinners would have been saved.

The brethren in Atlanta are proposing to build a thirty thousand dollar house. They do not ask my advice. None the less, I give it without cost. It will weaken instead of strengthen them. Half the money spent in preaching in the destitute suburbs of Atlanta, building a few modest houses, as needed, will save a hundred fold more sinners, and God will reward such work. He will not reward us for building houses to gratify our pride. Yes, brethren, I rejoice when you fail to build fine houses. I rejoice when you sell them. I rejoice when they are burned down and replaced with modest house that comport with the church of Christ.

Zechariah 14:1-15 – That Day is a New Day

The “behold” of Zechariah 14:1 (untranslated by the NIV) begins the second section of Zechariah’s second “oracle” (Zechariah 12-14). The first Section (Zechariah 12-13) was structured around the “day of the Lord” when God will renew covenant with Israel, defend Jerusalem, pour out the divine Spirit of grace, and cleanse the house of David from sin and idolatry. The second section (Zechariah 14) describes Yahweh’s triumph over the nations, the exaltation of Jerusalem and Yahweh’s reign over the whole earth.

The message of Zechariah is encouraging, promissory and climactic. At the time of Zechariah’s oracle Judah is a backwater province in the Persian Empire. It is unimportant, oppressed and impoverished. But Zechariah’s vision sees Jerusalem as the center of the world to which all the nations come to acknowledge the king of all the earth. It is a complete reversal. Whereas the Persian Emperor ruled the known earth from Mesopotamia at the time of Zechariah, in the future Yahweh will reign over the whole earth from Jerusalem.

The second oracle begins where the first one (Zechariah 9-11) left us, that is, Jerusalem is led by a “worthless shepherd” (11:17) whose self-interested leadership oppresses his own flock. This Jerusalem is filled with horrid leadership, false prophets and idolatry (Zechariah 13:2-6). That is the Jerusalem which is judged and whose plunder is divided among the nations (Zechariah 14:1).

The description of the destruction of Jerusalem by “all the nations” is typical of ANE descriptions of the fall of cities. In fact, this description echoes Isaiah’s vision of the fall of Babylon (cf. Isaiah 13:16). The city is besieged and captured, its spoils divided, half the city sent into exile, and women are sexually assaulted. “Raped and pillaged” signals the wholesale subjugation of the city by the nations. But that is not Yahweh’s final word.

Though Yahweh uses the nations to discipline Jerusalem, the warrior God of Israel will—“on that day”—fight against “those nations.” Zechariah, as in the previous oracle, uses the refrain “on that day” to describe what will happen.

On that day Yahweh will stand on the Mount of Olives. This north-south mountain ridge Is east of Jerusalem. When Yahweh appears on the mountain, mountains move as in the earthquake during the reign of Uzziah (cf. Amos 1:1-2; ca. 750 BCE). The ridge splits so that an east-west path is created. Through this pass survivors flee but also Yahweh enters Jerusalem with his “holy ones” (presumably those who had been previously exiled or scattered). Yahweh comes to Jerusalem!

On that day there will be no night. The language echoes Genesis 1, but on this day there is no “evening and morning” in the sense of night or darkness. It remains light. There is no darkness, that is, there is no more chaos. Yahweh reigns from Jerusalem and the world is filled with light. As in Revelation 22:5, Yahweh gives the light and there is no longer any night.

On that day living water will flow from Jerusalem. The city has no natural river. It depended on underground springs for its water supply. But when Yahweh arrives, the city will supply the land with “living (running) water” both east and west. The water, like the Nile in Egypt, will irrigate the land unlike anything known in ancient Judah. As in Revelation 22:1, Yahweh will provide “living water” for not only the city but for the whole earth.

On that day there will only be one King over the whole earth. Yahweh will reign from Jerusalem—the only Lord and King whose name alone is worthy of being called a “name.” Yahweh’s name will fill the earth. As in Revelation 22:3, the name of the Lord will be inscribed upon everything in the land, even the pots and pans (cf. Zechariah 14:20).

The result of these divine acts is dramatic. On the one hand, the surrounding land around Jerusalem—indeed, the whole province of Judah—will be flattened (like “Arabah”) and Jerusalem will be exalted as a city on a hill fully inhabited and with borders that remind readers of the city at its largest. The dimensions mentioned in the text are the dimensions of Jerusalem in the eighth century when the walled city was at its apex. The whole city is raised up above Judah which is now a plain where it once was wholly composed of hills. This is a massive geographical reconfiguration as it marks the prominence of Jerusalem in the whole earth.

On the other hand, Yahweh will strike the nations—those hostile to the reign of God in Jerusalem—with a plague that exceeds even the plague that Yahweh sent against Egypt. Their bodies will rot and the nations will flee in panic and confusion. Even the animals in the hostile camps are adversely affected by the trauma. But Jerusalem (and Judah!) will enjoy the spoils of the nations just as Israel did at the Exodus.

This deliverance will outstrip the Exodus itself. Not only does God strike the nations with a plague and plunder the nations, God chooses and exalts Jerusalem as the capital city of the whole earth. The reversal is pronounced. The province (Judah) and the city (Jerusalem) that in Zechariah’s time was absolutely insignificant internationally or regionally—some counties in the United States are larger than Judah was in the fifth century BCE—will, on that day, become the center of Yahweh’s reign on the earth.

Mark 12:28-34 — Kingdom Priorities

As Jesus teaches in the temple courts, his opponents confront him with a series of questions. Jesus had enraged the temple authorities when he cleansed the Court of the Gentiles from merchandizers. They questioned his authority, his allegiances, and his theology. These hostile questions intended to subvert his popularity and/or endanger his life.

Now, however, a scribe—like one of those who questioned him in Mark 11:27—approaches him with some respect. While Matthew (22:35) portrays this incident as the result of a Pharisaic conspiracy to test Jesus once again, Mark is more ambiguous. Mark’s scribe was impressed with how well Jesus handled the succession of questions and consequently wonders how Jesus might answer the question that rabbis discussed among themselves: “Of all the commandments, which is the first of all?” Which commandment, he asks, ranks as “numero uno”! Which commandment is the most important?

Given that the rabbis counted 613 imperatives within the Torah, it is not surprising that there would be some discussion about which was the most important or which had priority. Allen Black (College Press NIV Commentary on Mark, 216) reminds us that many, including Jesus’ contemporary in Alexandria Philo (Who is the Heir of Divine Things, 168; Special Laws, 2.63), considered the ten commandments a summary of the Torah divided between responsibilities toward God (“piety”) and responsibilities toward people (“justice”). This two-fold categorization fits the answer Jesus himself gave: love God and love your neighbor.

Jesus identifies two commands—out of a host present in the Torah—as the first and second. “Love God” is the “first of all,” that is, it has priority, but the “second” is “love your neighbor.” The first quotes the great Shema (Hebrew for “hear”) of Deuteronomy 6:4-5 which was repeated twice daily by devout Jews in the Greco-Roman period (Allen cites Letter to Aristeas, 160; Jubilees 6:14). The second quotes Leviticus 19:18.

It seems rather amazing that Jesus could lift two isolated commands out of the Torah and identify them as first and second. The identification of the Shema as first is more understandable as its narrative function in Deuteronomy is the fountainhead of Israel’s response to God’s deliverance and land-grant recounted in Deuteronomy 1-5. Since God has graced Israel, Israel returns that grace with loving gratitude.

But the identification of Leviticus 19:18 appears more arbitrary. It seems to appear as one command in a list of others within the Holiness Code (Leviticus 18-20). Some suggest that Leviticus 19:18 functions as a summary statement in the Holiness Code, but this is not apparent. Nevertheless, Jesus recognizes its theological importance.

What enables Jesus to so clearly and succinctly identify these two texts—among many others that could have been chosen—as the first and second commandments? It is apparent that Jesus does not read Scripture as a flat text where every command is as equally important as every other command. Rather, he reads the text in a hierarchical fashion. That is, he recognizes levels of priority and importance. I suggest he reads in a narratival way such that the story (plot) of God moves us to recognize “love you neighbor” as the second greatest command. Some commands are more fundamental than others.

The scribe recognizes Jesus’ point. He repeats what Jesus quoted—and thus the narrative underscores the unparalleled significance of theses two imperatives—and also interprets the significance of prioritizing these two commands. In effect, Jesus has prioritized these two commands, according to the scribe, over “burnt offerings and sacrifices.” In other words, Jesus has prioritized loving God and neighbor over the temple, its sacrifices and their atoning significance. This does not mean that sacrifices are unimportant but rather that they are less important that what some might have thought. The two greatest commands are love God and love neighbor–and we must be careful that we don’t respond with “but….” [fill in the blank with an "important" command].

There is a tradition with the history of Israel which prioritized the sacrifices so that if one comes to the temple and offers their sacrifices, then God is pleased with them (despite their lives). This is the safety of the temple to which Jesus alluded when he cleansed the Temple as Jesus quoted from Jeremiah’s Temple sermon (Jeremiah 7). Some believed that despite their adulteries and social injustice (how they treated the poor, widows and orphans) their sacrifices were accepted because the temple represented God’s gracious presence. The second command, love your neighbor, does not sanction such an interpretation of the temple.

What makes one more fundamental than another? How are these two imperatives (“love God” and “love your neighbor”) more important than sacrifices? Perhaps we might see in “love God and love your neighbor” an act of sacrifice itself. It is the gift of ourselves to God (our whole body, soul and strength) and, in turn, to others. We are the sacrifices. This is more important than any ritual which expresses that devotion.

It reminds us that God loves mercy more than sacrifice (Hosea 6:6) or Micah’s declaration of what the Lord requires more than a thousand rams, that is, “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). We are the sacrifices which God requires (cf. Psalm 40:6-8).

The context in which Mark places this exchange underscores the importance of “love your neighbor” (quoted twice). It appears between the exploitation the money-changers practiced in the temple courts (Mark 11:15-16) for which Jesus judges the temple complex and Jesus’ accusation that the wealthy temple authorities (“scribes”) exploit widows (Mark 12:38-40). Leviticus 19:18—love your neighbor—falls between the prohibition against defrauding (robbing) your neighbor (19:13) and honest business practices (19:35). Economic justice functions prominently in the last part of the Holiness Code.

Given the temple context, controversy and practices in Mark 11-12 as well as Jesus seemingly gratuitious comment about widows, “love your neighbor” has added significance. It is, it seems, a further judgment against the temple authorities. The scribe did not ask Jesus for the second commandment. He only inquired about what was “first of all.” Jesus volunteered the second and his reference to the social injustice of the scribes later in this chapter is a narrative clue for Mark’s readers as to why.

This may explain Jesus’ rather curious (backhanded?) compliment to the scribe: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Jesus notes that the scribe is “thoughful” (nounechos, only here in the NT)–he has got the right mind (nous) about it, but does he practice what he knows (loving God with soul and strength?)? Jesus did not invite the scribe to follow him and he did not say he was a kingdom participant. He still seems at a distance though near. Perhaps the scribe’s involvement in the temple complex was why, though near, he was not yet a Jesus-follower.

Whatever we make of Jesus’ “compliment,” the scribe correctly affirmed kingdom priorities. The kingdom ethic is to love God and love our neighbor. It is that simple though it is far from simple; easy to grasp perhaps, but difficult to live. The kingdom is rooted, grounded and expressed in love—God’s love for us, our love for God and our love for each other.

It is rather sobering, however, to consider whether, possibly like the scribe, we are “not far from the kingdom of God.” Is it possible that we might affirm but not practice the two greatest commands? Is it possible that we might know better but we don’t do better? Is it possible that we know about God but we don’t know God as people who love our neighbors?

Is it possible, I wonder, whether we know the commandments but we are so emeshed in the structures of oppression and injustice (much like the scribes in the temple; like those living under Jim Crow or in southern slave states) that we don’t even recognize that we fail to love our neighbors even as we insist that we do?

May God have mercy on us all.

Acts 2:42 – Practicing the Kingdom of God

They were continually devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship,

to the breaking of bread and to prayer (Acts 2:42, NASV)

Borrowing from Brother Lawrence, I have been using the language of “practicing the kingdom of God” in recent years. I don’t mean that as an alternative to or a substitute for Brother Lawrence’s “practicing the presence of God,” but as a specific way of talking about a communal discipleship which is a mode of living in the world for the sake of the world. I might even think of it as a subcategory of practicing the presence of God or as an expansion of the idea itself. I am open to thinking about it either way or both, or perhaps another relation. Whatever….

Acts 2:42, I believe, is one way of describing what it means to practice the kingdom of God as a community. Indeed, the story of the church in Acts describes how the disciples, at least in part, practiced the kingdom of God. Acts 2:42 is a summary which contains elements which are a consistent part of the story throughout Luke’s narrative. The disciples were constantly devoted to their practice–communal habits which embodied the kingdom of God in the world.

Kingdom language is present throughout Acts–from beginning (Acts 1:3) to end (Acts 28:31). Philip preached the good news of the kingdom (Acts 8:12) and Paul continually proclaimed the kingdom of God (Acts 20:25) in his ministry. Just as Jesus in Luke (4:41-43), so the church in Acts, they proclaimed the good news of the kingdom in word (teaching, prayer, praise, etc.) and deed(table, ministry, miracle, etc.).

Actually, each element in Acts 2:42 reaches back into the Gospel of Luke and projects foward into the rest of Acts.  Acts 2:42 becomes a practical “hinge” between Luke’s two narratives. Just as the church continued to teach and do what Jesus did concerning the kingdom of God (Acts 1:1), each of the particulars in Acts 2:42 were part of his ministry–teaching, community (fellowship), breaking bread and prayer. The church continues what Jesus began.

Luke’s summary assumes that readers have a way of identifying the meaning of the particulars–they are known not only by the rest of Acts, but also through the previous narrative in Luke as well as the present experience of the community to which he is writing.  What the apostles taught is found both in the teaching of Jesus himself and in the preaching of the apostles in Acts. The nature of the “fellowship”  in this context is shared resources (property, money and food), and this continues throughout the rest of the narrative as well as in the minstry of Jesus.  “Breaking bread” occurs three other times in Acts (2:46; 20:7,11; and 27:35) and always involves a meal (“food”)–indeed, every occurence of “breaking bread” in Luke also involved a meal (9:13; 22:19; 24:30). Breaking bread is a meal (perhaps more on that in another post or two). The prayers were a common feature of Jesus’ ministry as well as the Lukan church in Acts.

Theologically, James A. Harding called these practices  ”means of grace.” I think there is merit in that description which reminds us that to practice the kingdom of God is to open our lives to the inbreaking of God’s kingdom as he acts through appointed means. God comes through the teaching of his church; he comes through the fellowship of his people; he comes through the breaking of bread; and he comes through the prayers.  Consequently, these are not merely obedient acts on the part of God’s people as it they are simple prescriptions (laws) in the kingdom of God, but they are modes of divine action. They are the means through which God comes to his people in order to transform and by which his kingdom breaks into the world.

Exegetically, I would suggest that (1) teaching and (2) fellowship are broad categories.  Fellowship, then, is illustrated or partly itemized by (a) breaking bread and (b) prayer. Technically, note that there is no “and” (kai) between “fellowship” and “breaking bread” in the text. The absence of the conjunction probably indicates that breaking bread and prayer are subcategories of “fellowship.” Otherwise we would have a successive “(1) and (2) and (3) and (4)” rather than the “(1) and (2), (a) and (b).” 

If this is the case, then fellowship–as a broad idea–includes not only eating together at meals and prayers, but also sharing material resources with each other.  Fellowship broadly conceived–meals, prayers, sharing resources–is teased out in 2:43-47.  There are both lexical and thematic connections between Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:43-47. Their koinonia (fellowship) is experienced through having everything in koina (common), by breaking bread in their homes, and by praising God at both temple and home.

Luke’s description in Acts 2:42 is not primarily about assembly (though it applies to it), but about a discipled lifestyle. It is a communal way of living in the world by which God himself is present and dynamically transforming his people into the fullness of his kingdom. The people of God learn of him and live in community with each other which includes sharing their resources with the poor, sharing their food together and praying together.

Understood in this way, Acts 2:42 is a summary of communal spiritual formation, a mode of communal sanctification. These are the communal habits by which the people of God are formed and shaped into the image of Jesus–to be like the Jesus who ministered in the Gospel of Luke, that is, to be the body of Christ in the world. Through these communal habits they embody the life, ministry and mission of Jesus as Luke pictured him in his Gospel.

Marx, Paul, and Obama? A Comment on “Spreading the Wealth”

“From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.”

                 Karl Marx

“At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. Then there will be equality [fair balance, NRSV; or, equity], as it is written ‘He who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little” [quoting Exodus 16:18].

                  Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 8:14-15

The former quote has become quite popular in some circles since Barbara West quoted it when she asked Joe Biden a question about Obama’s supposed Marxism.

There is something quite healthy about Marx’s point. Indeed, there is something quite biblical about it…sort of. 

Paul writes something similar and even grounds it in God’s distribution of manna in the wilderness. When God distributes wealth (manna), he intends to supply the needs of the impoverished and those who have too much share what they have with those who have too little. God provides every blessing in abundance and blessed people scatter those gifts to the poor (2 Corinthians 8:8-9, quoting Psalm 112:9). God’s creative intent did not design poverty and the kingdom of God–whether Israel (Deuteronomy 15:4) or the Jesus community (Acts 4:34)–should have no needy among them.

Within the community of God this sharing is voluntary. Giving to the poor in both Israel and the Jesus’ community was a choice. It was not violently coerced. Marx, however, was willing to employ violence in his pursuit of economic justice.  In addition to the quote that heads this post, Karl Marx also said, “The last capitalist we hang shall be the one who sold us the rope.”

The kingdom of God, hopefully embodied in Jesus’ church, willingly and generously gives so that there is equity. This does not mean there is no private property or that some will not have more than others. Rather, it means that everyone has what they need. Disciples of Jesus share their wealth, sell their possessions to give to the poor, and announce good news to the poor. They do this out of the riches of the grace God has supplied rather than out of duty, threat, or coercion. Unfortunately, and admittedly too true of me, disciples often do not trust God sufficiently to share their abundant resources with the needy so that those who have too little have enough.

But we move too quickly when we say that it is purely voluntary. The Torah regulated Israel’s treatment of the poor.  It did not coerce lending to the poor, but there were legal protections for the poor and legal provisions for the needy that hindered and even restricted the open-ended growth of wealth. 

The law required the cancellation of debts every seven years.  This hindered the wealthy from exploiting the poor through interest rates and permanent indebtedness.  I wonder how many credit cards college students would receive in the mail if every seven years their debts were wiped clean. This legal provision regulated financial predators.  The return of the land to original families at Jubilee prevented the rich from unlimited wealth through the acquisition of property.  Generational wealth based on land ownership was limited. The Jubillee regulation was partly intended to hinder the acquisition of land to limitlessly enrich a particular family.

Israel’s example of how government can regulate wealth and protect the poor provides some fodder for discussion.  I tend to think unrestrained capitalism is a problem, but neither do I find socialism or Marxism particularly beneficient to the poor or a discouragement to elitist luxury.  Humanity is “naturally” (“by nature” through our sarx) evil, covetous, and greedy whether in a capitalist or socialist society.  

Yet, government, according to Romans 13, is ordained by God to protect the innocent and punish evil. Economic injustice, as the prophets of Israel make clear, is an evil. Given the systemic evil and greed within the structures of society (whether capitalist or socialist), I think government should play a role in restraining greed, pursuing economic justice [e.g., protecting the poor from predatory practices that prey upon their circumstances], and assisting the poor.

I am not a specialist in economics. In fact, I have no doubt that my ignorance is much greater than my knowledge. I wish I knew how to pursue economic justice in American culture. I know I don’t have the answers. I tend to think a restrained capitalism is the best system and can accomplish the greatest good for the poor, but I don’t feel myself qualified to determine whose economic policies, McCain or Obama, are best. I wish I knew though I believe both have a heart and interest in protecting the poor from exploitation.

I do not intend my blog to become a place for political partisanship. My interests are larger than the election of a particular President. I am not advocating for either on this issue. I can see it both ways and I am uncertain about which economic policy is best for the poor and growing the economy.

I am bothered by those who seem to think that only Obama cares for the poor or middle class.  I am bothered by those who will vote for McCain simply because they want to keep their money. I tend to think that McCain and Obama are fighting over a middle ground of some kind–protect the poor, assist the poor, but do not punish the wealthy simply because they are wealthy. 

I am not even an economic specialist when it comes to my own lifestyle.  I “tithe plus,” but it still seems inadequate to me.  I drive cars over 100,000 miles and don’t buy new cars.  I shop first at Goodwill.  But it still seems inadequate to me. I am rich…and I certainly don’t make anything near $250,000. 

I suppose my point is this.  Disciples of Jesus share their wealth. Government has a function to punish evil, including restraining the evil of economic greed and injustice.  How that should play out is uncertain to my mind. I simply don’t know, but I don’t have to know.

What I think I know, however, is that disciples of Jesus spread their wealth around and give their gifts from God to the poor. This is my point, a reminder to myself and perhaps to others.

Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, my allegiance to the kingdom of God means I will share my wealth with the poor. Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, God will accomplish his will and continue to introduce his kingdom into the world. Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, has little to nothing to do with the in-breaking of God’s kingdom.

P.S. Charitable giving by the candidates according to tax returns (where not all charitable giving is recorded, at least for my family).

McCain personally gave 26% of his income in 2007 and 18% in 2006 plus donating his book royalties since 1998 which totals almost $2,000,000.

Obama and his wife gave less than 1% from 2000-2004 but 5% in 2005 and 5.7% in 2006 (book deals gave the family increased income in the last few years).

Biden and his wife gave .03% in 2007 and .01% from 1998-2007.

Palin and her husband gave 3.3% in 2006 and 1.5% in 2007.

Jesus’ Eyes: Do You Know “the Look”?

One of the most vivid scenes in Luke is Peter’s 3x denial, particularly “the look.”

         ”The Lord turned around and looked straight at Peter” (Luke 22:61, GNB).

The verbs are intensive, descriptive, and full of significance.  “Turned around,” which is actually a participle in the Greek text, involves twisting or reversing; it is turning the back 180% degrees. Jesus turned around–he “converted” as the term is sometimes translated–to look at Peter. But it was no mere glance; it was an intense gaze. Jesus looked at Peter with piercing, discerning eyes.

         Turning his body toward Peter, the Lord’s eyes rested on Peter (JMH amplified).

The next verbs in Luke 22:61-62 describe Peter’s actions.  He “remembered” what Jesus had predicted about the denial….he went and wept bitterly.” Confronted with his betrayal, Peter “remembered.”  He then escaped; he ran away. And then he wailed violently–a visible, audible, wrenching sob. Peter, faced with his denial and memory, was a totally broken man. Remembering Jesus’ prediction–and, no doubt, his own insistence that it would never happen–he burst into tears.

What  did Peter see in the eyes of Jesus that pierced his heart?  What did those eyes tell him?

I think how we answer that question will probably say more about our own vision of God than it would Peter’s.  We can’t get inside of Peter’s head, but we can examine our own.  Our root image of God–perhaps one we learned in childhood, one that is at the core of our inner being–will probably shape how we “feel” this text.

We can easily imagine what Peter felt.  No doubt he felt shame and guilt.  We have all felt the same when confronted with our sins. That shame and guilt taps into something deep within us, and our core understanding of God will shape how we deal with it.

For some the eyes of Jesus may be primarily condemning. Peter sinned; he did not measure up. He did not keep the law; he betrayed a friend. The law condemns him, and Jesus condemns him. At the root of this perception is an angry God, a judge who strictly administers the law without mercy. Jesus, with these eyes, is insulted and offended.  “How dare Peter deny me!  I thought he was my friend!   Didn’t he say he would go to the death with me! He deserves whatever he gets!” This God is the Zeus who sits on the throne ready to cast his lightning bolts to earth on those who deserve his vengeance. These eyes convey no hope, no redemption. Unfortunately, they are the eyes that many have lived with for years, even when intellectually they know the story of grace much better than their guts will let them feel. It is what some got from their parents–a series of spankings, condemnations. They heard the message that they were bad kids and deserved punishment. Are these the eyes that met Peter’s eyes?

For others the eyes of Jesus may be primarily filled with disappointment. Peter disappointed Jesus; he had hoped for better.  Peter knew better; he knew he should not deny his Lord, but he did nevertheless. Peter had expectations of himself. Even if everyone else ran away, he would not.  He would die with Jesus if necessary. The disappointed eyes are the opposite of what Peter wanted. He wanted approval, praise, and honor. To feel Jesus’ disappointment means he was seeking Jesus’ commendation. It is what we often seek from parents as children; we don’t want to disappoint our parents. Some parents, when disappointed, shame their children.  “I knew you couldn’t do it.  Why can’t you be like Johnny? When will you ever learn?  Do I have to do everything myself? I can’t trust you with anything. I’ll have to finish what you could not complete.”  We tend to project this onto God so that he becomes like the shaming parent who voices disapproval, disappointment, and dissatisfaction. Are these the eyes that met Peter’s eyes?

At my core, my childhood images–images that I learned but surely few, if any, ever intentionally taught me–tend to see the eyes of an angry, disappointed God. My sin gave me a toxic shame that meant that I was worthless, a mistake, a screwup. I needed to get God’s approval, to get on his good side. I wanted God to like me and certainly not punish me. So, I needed to work harder, better, even faster…to do more, to do enough.

Intellectually, I know that last paragraph is bogus. Emotionally, however, it has been a different story. And so when I worked my way to a hellacious screwup (read: sin)–working for what I thought God wanted but actually working myself to death, even a spiritual death–I immediately felt God’s disappointment.  “John Mark, you should’ve known better.”  Or, “John Mark, how could you?!”  Or, “John Mark, what were you thinking?”

This week I have been meditating on these eyes–the eyes that pierced Peter’s heart.  I am Peter. What did Peter see?

I don’t think he saw condemning, judgmental eyes.  Neither do I think he saw disappointed eyes.  I think he saw sadness, a compassionate and hopeful sadness.  Jesus grieved for Peter. His eyes expressed sympathy and caring. They were redemptive eyes. Jesus is more interested in relationship with Peter than excluding, punishing or shaming Peter. Jesus reveals the divine loving parent who grieves over the failures of his children but does not give up on them. Peter saw in Jesus’ eyes his ongoing compassionate, forgiving, loving prayer that Peter would be strengthened by this experience and the hope in his eyes was the assurance that indeed Peter would.

In our betrayals, our sins, our denials, what do we see in the eyes of Jesus? With Peter we will remember and weep bitterly. That is understandable and healthy.  But also with Peter we may gain strength through the compassionate hope in those eyes.

In The Shack, Mack asked Papa: “honestly, don’t you enjoy punishing those who disappoint you?”  Papa “turned toward Mack” and with “deep sadness in her eyes,” said:  “I am not who you think I am, Mackenzie. I don’t need to punish people for sin. Sin is its own punishment, devouring you from the inside. It’s not my purpose to punish it; it’s my joy to cure it” (pp. 119-120).

I think Paul Young got that just about right. Intellectually, I understand it.  Emotionally, well, I’m learning.

Jesus’ eyes, though sad, anticipated the joy of redemption for Peter….and for me…for all of us.

What a Difference a Century Makes

Whatever your political allegiance–or non-allegiance, like me–the election of an African American to the Presidency of the United States is a historic event, and that is an understatement.

Whatever direction your vote went last Tuesday we can all rejoice that another ethnic and racial barrier has been breached.

A century ago, when Jim Crow laws were in full force, very few African Americans could even vote much less hold governmental office.  A half-century ago, when segregation still reigned, an African American President was unimaginable. A decade ago, the only African American in the United States Senate–Carol Moseley Braun of Illinois–was defeated in her re-election bid.

Change, indeed, has come to America!

Change has come to Churches of Christ as well.

In 1902 an author (initials G.P.O.) in the socially progressive (by comparison with other journals among Churches of Christ) Christian Leader (November 11, p. 3) opined that given their ignorance, emotional immaturity, and general idleness “the repression of the negro vote in the South may even prove a blessing in disguise by turning the negro’s attention towards self-improvement and the necessity of making a living by toil.” With historical hindsight–and recognizing that had I lived at the time I probably would have agreed–I can only say, Wow! Plus, this appears in the only journal among Churches of Christ that had a regular column by an African American preacher and educator, Samuel Robert Cassius.

Fifty years ago Churches of Christ were silent about segregation and if they were vocal, they were usually defending the status quo (see Bobby Valentine’s blog for an illustration of such in 1957). The silence of our major periodicals in the late 1950s and early 1960s during the birth of the Civil Rights Movement is deafening and chilling. One would only need to read through some of the articles from the 1950s and 1960s at Don Haymes’ anthology to get a feel for how deeply Churches of Christ were embedded in their southern culture. Listen to just one example: “The good, honest and sincere Negroes do not want integration as is attempted today. They know that they are happier and can serve God and their fellowman by remaining as God intended them to be and the purpose for which he created them.” Patronizing and self-serving; another (hindsight) Wow!

Last Tuesday, many within Churches of Christ voted for Obama, especially those who have come to see that voting for social justice is just as important as voting against abortion–both are pro-life orientations. Deuteronomy, for example, is just as concerned about just wages, fair treatment of aliens, and protection for the poor as it is protecting innocent life. Unjust wages and abortion, I believe, are both murder (read James 5:1-6, for example).

In my estimation neither candidate in this election was without flaw on the question of life. But I will leave that issue to the conscience of each reader and voter.

The deed is done. Whatever the political and policy ramifications, the racial witness here is a welcome one. It is a step in the right direction as far as race relations are concerned in this country.

Whether Obama will implement good policies is a different question and one upon which I will not comment. For now, I think we can enjoy the particular change that the election of an African American represents just as I would have also enjoyed the change that the election of a woman to the Vice Presidency would have represented as well. Either way would have been progress.

As for the future….in God we trust; I neither trust Obama/Biden nor McCain/Palin.

Forgiveness: Participating in the Divine Life

Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors….For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

Matthew 6:12, 14-15

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

James 2:13b

[NOTE:  The Sunday before last, November 2, I returned to teaching at Woodmont Hills Church of Christ after an eleven month rest. It felt rather odd but yet comfortable. (I know that doesn't make sense, but welcome to my world. ).  I decided to return to teaching with a series on forgiveness that was stirred by my recent reflections on The Shack as well as my journey over the past year (and the cumulative effect of previous years). The four lessons are: (1) Receiving forgiveness, which I posted last week, (2) Giving Forgiveness, which is this week's post, (3) Forgiving Self, and (4) Forgiving God.]

Giving forgiveness is exactly that–it is an act of grace, a gift. Forgiveness is not owed; it is not a debt we must pay any more than it is a debt God must pay when he forgives us. As such, forgiveness cannot be demanded, coerced, or even expected by offenders. Forgiveness is something we give.

At one level, giving forgiveness is therapeutic and healthy. It does something for us and inside of us, including lowering blood pressure and decreasing heart rates. It releases negativity; it vents the poison that can corrupt our souls.  It is freedom from repressed negative emotionis. When we refuse to forgive we fuel a cancer that devours us. Consequently, forgiveness is something we do for ourselves. We forgive that we might live without resentment and bitterness.  We forgive for the sake of our own health.  The practice of forgiveness ultimately transforms.

But forgiveness is much more than a humanistic act of self-transformation. Forgiveness is participation in the divine life. It is being with others in the way that God is with us. It is to love as God loves. When we forgive we participate in God’s redemptive movement within the world. We stand with God as we forgive others; we participate in his own forgiving act.

Viewed in this way, forgiveness arises out of the work of God’s Spirit in our hearts. It arises out of our own experience of having received forgiveness from God, the empowerment of the Spirit to forgive as God forgives, and the sense of security/assurance that we are beloved by God no matter how others may treat us. Forgiveness is God’s work in our own hearts.

Remembering our own mistakes and sins empowers forgiveness; if God has forgiven us, then who are we to withhold forgiveness from others? Are we better than they? And, ah, that might be the very problem that hinders us….our pride, our sense of superiority, our self-righteousness.

What hinders forgiveness is our own resentment and bitterness.  We humans tend to wallow in self-pity, blame everyone else for how we feel, and fail to act positively with our negative feelings.  This resentment and bitterness leads to negative actions such as revenge so that we return evil for evil instead of forgiving the evil done against us.

Yet, when we have experienced hurt through the offense of another, anger is a natural and healthy response. There is nothing ungodly about a rape victim’s anger toward their assailant. There is nothing ungodly about a abused wife’s anger toward her husband. There is nothing ungodly about anger toward one’s sexual abuser. Part of the process of forgiveness may, in fact, involve confronting the other person with what they have done. Forgiveness does not mean that what the other person did is OK, but it does give the forgiver space to be OK about their past.  Forgiveness does not necessarily remove the hurt and pain of the past offense. Forgiveness prevents resentment or rids one of resentment, but the hurt may well remain. That hurt will take time to heal.

Actually resentment and bitterness arise out of our own woundedness.  Life has wounded all of us–we have been betrayed, neglected, and attacked by others and even (as it may seem) by God.  As a result we want to protect ourselves, rely on our own self-sufficiency, and blame everyone else rather than take responsibility for our lives.  Thus, we resent others when they hurt us.  We resent rather than forgive because this is how we think others have treated us. Our negative self-image, developed through childhood and other life experiences, yields a negative reaction to hurt in the form of resentment.  Unchecked, this resentment leads to revenge.

Forgiveness releases the other person to God. Instead of taking matters into our own hands or grabbing the offender by the throat with threats, we let go.  We let go and let God handle it. Anger becomes ungodly when it turns to revenge. When we return “evil for evil,” then we become an abuser rather than the abused. When we take vengenance into our own hands, then we become judge, jury, and executioner…we become God.

This does not mean that the forgiver must now reconcile with the forgiven. Reconciliation is a different matter altogether. Forgiveness–as an act of grace toward another–can happen without reconciliation since the other may not receive the forgiveness, may not think they need forgiveness, or may not want to renew (or begin) the relationship. It only takes one to forgive but it takes two to reconcile. While forgiveness may pave the way for reconciliation, forgiveness does not necessarily lead to reconciliation and reconciliation is not required for forgiveness.

Reconciliation may actually take much longer than forgiveness since reconciliation invovles a synergistic, cooperative process of mutual understanding. That takes time, intimacy, and trust.  Reconciliation assumes rebuilt trust and that is a painful, time-consuming process.

Forgiveness does not mean the offense was insignificant or that it did not hurt or there was no reason for anger. Rather, forgiveness is our decision to let God handle the justice, to let go of the other person’s throat, to let go of the resentment, and to let go any personal desire to punish. Postively, and more significantly, forgiveness means desiring for that person what you desire for yourself and treating that person the way God treats you. In short, it is to love them, even if they–in their minds–are our enemies.

We can only love when we feel loved by God. Our acceptance of God’s own forgiveness and our experience of the divine circle of love surrounds us with safety and security. We forgive out of that secure place–the place where we hear God say, “You are my beloved no matter what your past; you are loved.” That love overflows into forgiveness for others.

At bottom, “to forgive is divine” (Alexander Pope).

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

Ephesians 4:32

Love covers a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

P.S.  Here is a chart I designed to communicate the point of this lessson for the class I was teaching.

Forgiving God: From Praise to Bitterness to Comfort

To forgive God is, for many–if not most, a necessary bridge to praising him.  But it is a difficult idea to grab hold of–how does one forgive God? What does that mean? And, indeed, it sounds blasphemous….as if God has done something wrong that needs forgiveness.  And who are we to forgive God anyway? We are the creatures, he is the creator; we are the clay, he is the potter.

Bear with me for a few posts on this topic…it is one with which I struggle, and I struggle to forgive my God.  Walk with me for a few days, meditate with me and pray with me.

I will begin with Job whom, I believe, learned to “forgive” God.

From Praise

Yahweh gave and Yahweh took away; blessed be the name of Yahweh. 

Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?

Job 1:21; 2:10

Job’s initial response to his tragic suffering is noble, laudable, and….practically unbelieveable!  How can he bless Yahweh in the face of such loss–prosperity, servants, health, and–most of all–his children!? 

This has led many to think that these are mere cliches on his lips; superficial expressions of piety that arise more out of his ritualistic (even legalistic, according to some) way of being religious.  It is all he knows to do in the face of the tragedy…repeat the phrases…repeat the prayers….hang on to the ritual as a way of believing.

I can appreciate that take on these words.  Indeed, there is some value to hanging on to the ritual in difficult times.  The ritual provides stability, a connection with past believers. But I don’t think this is true for Job in the prologue. Job–from beginning of the prologue to the end of the epilogue–is righteous, a person who fears God and shuns evil. His faith is not shallow. In fact, he is the one whom God offers as a cosmic test that there is such thing as faith in the universe God created and has permitted to fall into trouble. He is a true believer.

I have known people who have responded to tragedy with just such faith, particularly in the initial moments–me included for some of my circumstances.  I suppose we could say that they, too, are leaning on proverbial straws, but not necessarily.

It may be that a life of faith prepares one–to a certain extent–for tragic experiences. Perhaps living with God day-to-day enables a faith response to tragedy in those initial moments. I have seen mature believers face tragic news, dangerous surgeries and life-threatening situations with great faith, piety and–yes, even–hope.

But…

To Bitterness

I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

I will give free reign to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul.

God has denied me justice and made me taste the bitterness of soul.

God has wronged me…though I cry “I have been wronged,” I get no response….his anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies

Job 7:11; 10:1; 27:2; 19:6, 7, 11.

But sometimes when believers sit in their grief and begin to feel the fullness of their loss other emotions emerge and begin to dominate.

Job sat in silence with his friends and then let our a heart-wrenching lament where he wished he had never been born and recognizes that what he had feared most had actually happened to him! He confessed that he felt hopeless.

The friends were stunned. Where was that “blessed be the name of the Lord” Job they knew? They told him shut up until he was willing to repent.

Job, however, could not remain silent. He had to speak.  He had to speak out his anguish, his bitterness.  He complained about the unfairness, the injustice, the meaninglessness of it all.  He assaulted God with words and felt God’s hostility in his very bones.

Job was embittered. God had wronged him. He had treated him unfairly. He thought God was his friend, but he turned out to be an enemy. He felt betrayed.

Job resented God. He resented his fate.  He resented how the children of the wicked dance about their tents while his are gone.  He resented how the wicked prosper and go to the grave in ease while he lives in a garbage dump.  He resented that his relatives and friends, who once sucked up to him, now avoid him.

He resented everything, and Yahweh was responsible!

But….then something happened….

To Comfort

I melt before you and am consoled over my dust and ashes.

They comforted and consoled him over all the trouble that Yahweh had brought upon him.

Job 42:6, 11b

Or, I should say, someone happened.  God showed up. He came near. He spoke.  God did not abandon Job; he did not beat him up or slay him. He spoke with him; he reminded him. He cared for him.

And Job let go….he let go of the resentment. He forgave God; Job released God from Job’s own human, fallible and self-consumed judgment.

Job 42:6 is probably the worst translated text in all the Bible. Most translations make it look like that Job recanted his earlier complaints, or that he repented of his sinful words, or that he now did penance for his sins.  But that makes the friends right, and clearly the friends are wrong! God sides with Job, not the friends.

I prefer my translation.  (I know you are probably surprised by that!) 

Job melts before God; he humbles himself.  He lets go.  He does not regret the laments or the words. He lets go of the bitterness, resentment and anger.

“Repent”–not at all!  Rather, the Hebrew word is the same word translated five verses later (v.11b) as “consoled,” and was used earlier in Job 2:11 describing what how the friends intended to help Job, and how they failed as “miserable comforters” in Job 16:1.  Just as Job is consoled by his family and friends over the trouble the Lord had brought on him in 42:11, he was first consoled over the dust and ashes of his life by his encounter with Yahweh (42:6). Having let go, he experiences a comfort in the midst of his mourning and grief, his dust and ashes.

The divine-human encounter, when God whisphered grace in his ear,  enabled Job to let go. Divine presence comforts like nothing else can.

Comfort came to Job when he let go of the bitterness, the resentment; when he let go of his presumed right to judge God. Job was comforted when he forgave God by accepting Yahweh’s sovereignty and trusting his purposes.

More to come…..

Arminianism on the Righteousness of Saving Faith

Recently a researcher in Europe asked for a copy of my article The Righteousness of Saving Faith: Arminian Versus Remonstrant Grace (published in Evangelical Journal in 1991) to assist his investigation of Arminianism. It gave me the opportunity to dig it up and put it on my website.  The article is based on my Ph.D. dissertation The Theology of Grace in Jacobus Arminius and Philip van Limborch: A Study in Seventeenth Century Dutch Arminianism completed at Westminster Theological Seminary in 1985. I have not yet put my dissertation online (perhaps soon).

The article argues for a distinction between Arminianism and Remonstrantism. In other words, there is a difference between Arminius and what often passes for “Arminianism” in contemporary discussions. Roger Olson’s recent Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities (who makes significant use of my dissertation) seeks to help us make this distinction.  Classic or Historic Arminianism is much closer to Reformed theology than many of its contemporary expressions, including what we find in the Stone-Campbell Movement.

What I think is significant for the Stone-Campbell Movement in this discussion is that historically there have been at least two understandings of grace within the movement.  If we focus the discussion of grace on the “righteousness of saving faith,” the difference between Classic Arminianism and Remonstrantism rears its head within the Stone-Campbell Movement as well.

My published work on K. C. Moser illustrates this disagreement within Churches of Christ.  What I have called the “Tennessee Tradition” (e.g., R. C. Bell) pursues an Arminian understanding of grace and the nature of saving righteouenss.  What I have called the “Texas Tradition” (e.g., Guy N. Woods) practically reproduces the Remonstrant understanding of grace. (For those interested in the broader Texas/Tennessee contrasts, see Kingdom Come by Bobby Valentine and myself).

The critical difference is something like this.  Classic Arminianism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is external to faith itself, that is, the righteousness that saves is from God and is a gift to us. Classically, this righteousness is the work of Christ imputed to us. Remonstrantism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is inherent within faith itself, that is, our faith is a righteousness which God counts as obedient righteousness. Classically, Remonstrantism denies the imputation of Christ’s righteousness and affirms that our obedience is a cause of our own righteousness.  Those who grew up in Churches of Christ in the mid-20th century may have heard this as:  God has done his part (2 points) and now we add our part (2 points) so now we have salvation (4 points), that is, 2 + 2 = 4. Significantly, the “part” we play is, in fact, a contribution of righteousness through obedience by which we measure up to the “plan” that God has graciously enacted to save us.  In effect, our own righteousness saves us by our obedience, but it is viewed as “grace” because the plan is God’s gift.  God gives the plan (his 2 points), and we work the plan (our 2 points), and the result is we are saved (4 points). In effect, we save oursleves by our own righteousness–which is what Calvinists have always accused Arminians of believing.  But it is true of Remonstrants and others, but not of Arminius and Classic Arminianism.

I don’t intend to argue this here, but submit the publications on my website for your reading as you have interest.  The details of the argument are provided there.

Forgiving God: A Testimony

Last Saturday evening Jennifer and I attended a 5th-8th talent show at the Lipscomb Campus School.  It was almost three hours long, but had several excellent performances.  However, it was long.

About thirty minutes into the program, I began to feel uncomfortable.  Something was gnawing at me. My insides were pushing me to run, to get out of the building, to find a way to excuse myself.  Something was telling me that if I could just go home I could regain my serenity.  And, a year ago, that is probably what I would have done, but the serenity would have been an illusion, an escape.

This night, however, I turned inward.  The problem was not the program but something going on inside of me. As the program proceeded, I began to meditate, calm myself and pray.  I wanted to know what was really going on with me.  The kids were doing their best, and they weren’t so bad that I needed to escape.  There was something else from which I wanted to escape.  I needed to sit in my feelings, discern what was happening, and feel my way through the mess that is my soul.

As I meditated, I became aware that I was envious.  I did not envy the children, but the parents. I noticed that I was agitated by the joy of the parents and the wonder of their eyes. I was particularly annoyed by how much the parents and family members behind me were enjoying their star’s performance.

Envy.  Not envious of talent, money, power, job, but envious that these parents were blessed by God to watch their children perform. I was never able to do that with Joshua. When he was the age of these children, he was in a wheelchair, could barely walk, and spent most of his time unaware of his surroundings. From eight to sixteen my family watched Joshua slowly die. I never saw Joshua play a team sport, never saw him perform on a stage, never saw him read a poem–or read at all!  I envied the parents and begrudged their joy, and–in my harsh and unkind judgment–wondered whether they truly appreciated their blessing.

But that was not the root. Resentment was the root of my feeling that night; that was my discomfort–my rationale for escape. I wanted to run away so I would not have to think about my pain, Joshua’s illness and death. I did not want to acknowledge my resentment. I would rather not think about it or feel it. It is easier to simply escape.

I did not resent the parents. I resented God. He blessed these children, but not Joshua. He gave these gifts to these parents, but I was never able to enjoy that gift with Joshua. I had missed out and there was no one to blame except God. Is he not reponsible for his world? Did we not pray that we would have a healthy son? Why did he say, “No, he won’t be healthy”? I resent that answer and sometimes I’m not sure that I can put up with a God like that.

Even as I write these words I know that I received many gifts from Joshua and they were divine blessings.  Even as I think again about his broken body, I still remember his smile, his laugh and the joy of just sitting with him in my big chair watching one of his favorite movies (The Wizard of Oz).  I realize I was blessed, but Saturday evening I resented that God had not blessed me more richly–that he had not blessed me like those parents in that auditorium that night.

As I meditated on that resentment, I noted my feelings.  Irritation. Frustration. Anger. Envy. Jealousy. Resentment.  And I took them to God. I told him how I felt. I let it out so I could let it go, so I could release it into God’s hands. I needed to be heard…by God!  And in being heard, I could let go…at least for that night. In that moment I could forgive God.

In letting go, I could remember the blessings I did receive through Joshua. I could treasure those and hold them in my heart, and thank God for them. I could value the experiences–the learning and growth experienced in the process. I could even see God in many of those painful moments–God present to comfort  in my laments, God present through people who served my family, God present in laughter as well as tears.

That night–at least for that night–I forgave God. In releasing my resentment, I was given some peace and joy. Bit by bit, day by day, little by little, the comfort is renewed and joy returns. 

Thanks be to God for his patience with me. Even when I bitterly resent him, he loves me, he graciously receives my forgiveness (when he, of course, does not need it!), and he is not frustrated with me when the resentment returns on a cold Saturday night in December seven and a half years after Joshua’s death. 

Thank you, Yahweh.  Truly your lovingkindness endures for ever.

 

 Postscript:  Here is the contemplative, meditative process I used Saturday evening to journey toward forgiving  God. I find myself returning to it daily.

1. Find a quiet, private place where you can sit in uninterrupted silence.  I center myself through a breath prayer.  I concentrate on my breath–inhaling and exhaling.  I offer a breath prayer to still myself, soothe myself and given space for the Spirit of God to calm my soul.  I follow the breath through my body and permit the whole of my being to focus. I usually use a breath prayer like “Jesus Christ, Son of God” as I breath in and “have mercy on me, a sinner” as I breath out. (This is the traditional “Jesus Prayer”).
2. I recall the moment of pain, sit in the hurt, and feel the pain. What do I feel? What emotions emerge as primary. I name them and describe them.
3. I contemplate God in relation to this pain. When I think about God in this context, do I feel anger, frustration, fear, love, gratitutde? What negative emotions do I feel? Do I feel any irritation, anger or bitterness as I think about this pain and unanswered prayers? Do I feel rejection, hurt or anger when I remember the pain and ponder why God permitted that?
4. I then bring those feelings into the presence of God and tell God how I am feeling. We all have the need to be heard, and we need for God to hear how we feel. I speak it audibly when I can (and sometimes I wonder if anybody is listening).
5. I then tell God that I want to release the negative emotions associated with this memory and that I need his help to release them. I am powerless over my feelings. I cannot help but feel what I feel. At the same time I process those feelings in the presence of God and by the power of his Spirit.
6. I then reflect on where God was in that past moment of pain. Can I point to people, events, feelings, or circumstances that signal a God-presence? Where did God show up in that pain? I may not have recognized it at the time, but as I reflect, sit in the presence of God with this pain, and broaden my vision of the event perhaps I can see God where I had not previously seen him.
7. I then reflect on the meaning of that pain. What did I learn through the experience? What lessons surface in the reflection? What endures as meaningful and significant for me? How has it shaped me and changed me? How has it affected my vision of God?
8. I then remember who God is, how he has loved me in the past, how he loves me even now in the present. Remember his sovereignty, his creative intent, his redemptive work. I seek God’s face through the eyes of Jesus and embrace his love. I recall the story and meditate on God’s works. I see the face of Jesus, remember his loving kindness toward people. I remember the story of the widow’s son–he raised him from the dead. I permit the compassion and love of God to flow into my mind, heart and gut.
9. God, I forgive you because I am not God.  There is only one God and I am not him. I don’t know what you know; you are greater than I. You must have your reasons. I trust you because I see you in Jesus.  I humble myself before you and release my anger, bitterness and resentment toward you.  You are my God, and I forgive you, and, I pray, you will forgive me because even in forgiving you I don’t know what I am doing.

Forgiving God: Processing the Movements of the Soul

Forgiving God is a controversial topic among many believers, especially Christians. Jewish believers, however, have a long history of talking about “forgiving God,” and it is present in the classic story of Job as my last post suggested. In the aftermath of the Holocaust, for example, one of the most significant questions in Jewish theology is whether believers can forgive God for the death of millions and the seeming failure of his promises.

A familiar Jewish tale relates the story of a rabbi who encountered a tailor as he left the synagogue. The rabbi asked the tailor what he had been doing. The tailor responded that he had been praying about forgiveness. It is good, the Rabbi replied, to pray for forgiveness and then asked the tailor what sins he had confessed. He confessed his “little sins.” The Rabbi, a bit concerned, asked what he meant. He had confessed the sin of cheating his customers in a few minor ways. But, the tailor continued, he also forgave God of his “big sins.” After all, the tailor theorized, his sins were little compared with God–while he cost his customers a few coins and some cloth, God oversaw a world where children die. So, the tailor concluded, he made a deal with God. If God would forgive him of his “little sins,” he would forgive God of his “big” ones.

No doubt this offends some sensibilities. I was offended the first time I read about “forgiving God” in Rabbi Kushner’s When Bad Things Happen to Good People. But the idea has grown on me through the experience of life, the depth of hurt, the lament tradition in Scripture, and a resentment towards God that ebbed and flowed with the pains of life.

Forgiving God does not, in my mind, refer to forgiving God of his sins. Rather, it refers to letting go what is hidden in my heart against God. Let me explain….

When tragedy overwhelms us, it fills our life with hurt and pain. Reality hits us in the face. The pain is unavoidable; the hurt is deep. And our thoughts as believers naturally and appropriately turn to God.

Some turn to God in praise and thanksgiving. Perhaps through the experience of life and their walk of faith they have learned to “give thanks in everything.” Perhaps it is a conditioned first resposnse.

Others, however, turn to God in anger and lament. They are disappointed with God. Like Job, they believe (or at least it sure appears) that God has wronged them. They are frustrated with God’s hidden purposes; they are irritated by the seemingly meaningless pain. It depresses some and creates anxiety in everyone.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with anger and lament. It is modeled in Scripture. The wisdom story of Job is a dramatic lament. Half of the Psalm-worship of Israel was lament, and much of it filled with depression, anger and confusion. Even the martyred saints around the throne of God and the Lamb question with the classic lament question, “How long? How long?” (Rev 6).

Thus, while some respond with praise and others with lament, both are appropriate and understandable. Indeed, most of those, if not all, who respond with praise also learn to lament as a healthy way of grieving. Saints often move from praise to lament and ultimately (it is hoped) back to praise.

However, the return to praise is not an easy road to travel. It is filled with potholes and stalked by robbers. Some, including myself, turn to bitterness rather than back to praise for seasons of time. In this bitterness we dwell in our resentment. We project onto God all the inner demons of our own souls. We blame God for all the hurt and pain in our lives. We envy those who have it better; we resent the God who would permit our pain. We doubt, question and wonder why.

Stuck in bitterness, some ultimately reject God. They move from faith to doubt to unbelief. They rebel against and curse the God they once trusted. I believe this move from bitterness to unbelief is ultimately driven by our own inner woundedness, perhaps our own unresolved anger and alienation. When we project our “stuff” (whether it is parental abandonment or whatever it might be) onto God, then we make a God in the image of our woundedness or even equate God with our woundedness. And who wants that kind of God? It is better to live without that God than to live with him.

Forgiving God is my language for that process that moves us from bitterness back to praise. Perhaps “forgiving God” is not the best language to use–it is subject to misunderstanding. But “forgiveness,” at its heart, is release. To forgive God is to let go of the resentment, to let go of God’s throat and our demand that he treat us as we think we deserve (which, btw, is a dangerous thing to demand of God–do we really want what we deserve?!).

Acceptance is a key issue. To accept our reality, that is, to live life on its own terms, to take life as it comes, is necessary for comfort and peace in the midst of tragic circumstances. This acceptance is generated by trusting God.

Trusting God arises out of comtemplating his greatness–he is God, not me. It arises out of contemplating his sovereignty–he is in control, not me. It arises out of contemplating his wisdom–he knows better than I. But, most importantly, this trust arises out of contemplating his faithful love–I am beloved by God. I will not trust a God who does not love me, but convinced that God loves me more than I love myself I will trust that God. And this is the God of Jesus–the God who gave himself for our sakes.

When I trust God, I can forgive him. When I trust God, I can accept my reality. I can let go of control and power. I can let go of my pride that believes that I could run the world much better than him. I can let go of judgment and accept the truth of my circumstances….but my acceptance is contingent upon trusting God’s love for me and his sovereign purposes. And trust is learned–knowing the story, living the story, and experiencing the story through God’s people.

This trusting acceptance is forgiveness–it releases us from our own resentments, bitterness and self-inflicted wounds. Forgiveness then empowers us to praise God once again, and through praise we experience transformation.

This has been my experience. When hurt and pained, I lament (sometimes with anger). My lament can easily turn to bitterness and resentment. But recalling the story, seeking the face of God, and trusting his love for me, I accept (to one degree or another) my lot and release the resentment. Forgiving God, I learn again to praise him.

Only recently have I realized that this is a constant cycle in my life. Something triggers me (e.g., envy of other parents who watch their sons play football when I never had that opportunity with Joshua) and the cycle begins again. But, I trust and hope, it is a spiral toward transformation rather than a degenerative plunge into unbelief.

But the move from bitterness and resentment to forgiveness has never been an easy one, and only recently have I discerned what is for me a healthy, helpful and hopeful contemplative process for letting go, forgiving and once again praising God. I will share that process in my next post.

More to come…..

For visual learners (like me), this chart illustrates this post. I used it this past Sunday as I taught this post at Woodmont Hills in Nashville, TN. I kinda like it myself. At least, it is true in my own experience.

Christmas–The Incarnation of God

The annual season we know as Christmas is a time when most people remember the stories of Jesus’ birth. The media is full of movies, articles and advertisements, which remind us of those stories. There are good stories — Joseph & Mary, Bethlehem, “no room at the inn” which is traditionally badly interpreted as inhospitality (but that is for another time), the manger, the shepherds, Herod the Great, the wise men, and the celebration by angels. They are stories we need to tell our children and on which we can reflect with our neighbors and colleagues, especially at this time of the year.

However, the real story of the birth of Jesus, the story, which both Matthew and Luke emphasize, is that the birth of Jesus is the incarnation of God. It is the appearance of God himself in the flesh. It is this event which we celebrate weekly and this person whom we worship daily. The real story of the wise men, for example, is not that they visited Jesus, but that they worshipped him and gave him gifts — an example we seek to imitate.

The incarnation, God coming as one of us in the flesh, is at the heart of Christianity and one of its central themes. This is the story we need to tell — that God humbled himself to become one of us….the humility of God….the love of God.

He became one of us to be present within his creation as a creature and unite himself to his creation. His union with creation through the flesh, through becoming a human being, sanctifies creation, redeems it, and communes with it. Becoming flesh, living in his own skin, and being raised in a glorified but yet still human body bears witness to God’s intent to live in relationship with creation itself rather than simply relating to “spiritual” ghosts floating through the “spiritual” clouds. The incarnation is God’s testimony that–and means by which–God intends to unite himself with the creation.

He became one of us in order to reveal God to us. The life of Jesus tells the story of how God would act if he were a human being. In Jesus we have a concrete example of who God is, how he behaves, and how he relates to people. We see God when we see Jesus. He embodies God so that we may know who God is. Jesus is the truth, God in the flesh. He is the life and the way; he is God available to the eyes, ears and touch. We know our God because we know Jesus.

He became one of us in order to experience and sympathize with our suffering. God in himself does not know what it is like to be thirsty, hungry or to experience physical pain. God in Jesus, however, experienced all of these human frailties. Now God knows what it is like to be a human being. He is the empathetic and sympathetic God through Jesus. He shares our pain and temptations, sits on the mourner’s bench with us, and dies with us (as well as for us). God knows humiliation through Jesus;  God knows the experience of fallenness. Our God fully knows us–cognitively but also existentially and experientially.

He became one of us in order to redeem us through the sacrifice of his own life. As the God-Human, Jesus is the mediator between God and Humanity. It his human life that he offered as an atonement for our sins, but he did so not as an act of human blood sacrifice but as an act of divine self-substitution. God became human so that God might engage the powers of evil and defeat them.  God became human so that God might bear sin, take it up into his own life and resolve the cosmic problem of mercy and justice–however that is resolved. God became human that we might have a representative at the right hand of the Father who is one of us. 

At this Christmas season, remember the real story of Jesus’ birth. It is not found in the moralistic (though profitable) stories of Rudolf, the Little Drummer Boy, or the movie “Miracle on 34th Street”. The real story is that God became one of us so that we might become one with God. That is the story we need to proclaim year-round and celebrate daily. It is, truly, the gospel story rather than simply a Christmas story.

A touching video entitled “Emmanuel – God is with us” is available at Benji Kelly’s website that is worth a meditation or two.

Before Praying….

Last Wednesday evening I was reminded by Terry Smith of a wonderful summary of worship from William Temple, Archbishop of Cantebury (1942-1944). It was Temple’s vision of how liturgical community can help spiritually form a person. Terry first heard it from E. H. Ijams who, at the time, was an elder at the Highland Church of Christ in Memphis, Tennessee. In 1971, at a college retreat, Ijams suggested it as a meditation before prayer and Terry has practiced it in his life.

Since last Wednesday I have practiced this several times.  I take about five to ten minutes in silent meditation letting my mind move through these five themes before I pray.  I have found it wonderfully liberating and focusing as the method awakens me to God’s presence.  It is a way for me to center myself, exclude distracting thoughts and focus on the presence of God. Below is simply one brief meditation of the sort of thing my mind does as I seek to center and focus before I pray with this method.  (And, of course, there are many other methods; this is not the only nor necessarily the best one…but it is one.)

 1.  Quicken your conscience with the holiness of God.

Recalling Isaiah 6, I bring my conscience into the presence of God surrounded by his angels who are crying “Holy, Holy, Holy.” My conscience accuses me, the Accuser points his finger at me, and the whole of creation stands ready to condemn me. Just as I am confessing “Woe is me; I am a man of unclean lips,” the Father sends one of his angels with a burning coal from the altar toward me. I am frightened. This is judgment. This is payback. The vengeance of God is breaking out against me just as it did Uzzah. But, hallelujah surprise, the coal is not judgment but forgiveness; it is from the altar…it is atonement….it is a cleansing. My conscience is purged by the grace of God and awakened to the holy love of God. I bow before my creator’s mercy as God himself by his own presence awakens my conscience, cleanses it, and quickens it to sense, feel and know divine holiness.

2.  Feed your mind with the truth of God.

My mind will think and my gut will feel whatever it is I feed it. I must offer my mind the truth of God so that I might contemplate the reality of God in the world. Jesus is the truth of God. I read the Gospels; I expose myself to the ministry, heart and life of Jesus. For meditation, I recall one of the stories from the Gospels to feed my mind with God’s truth. I remember the Lepers–10 of them–whom Jesus healed, but only one returned to thank Jesus whose mercy was not limited by their disease, religion, race or ingratitude. The one who returned was a Samaritan. Am I grateful? Is my mercy limited? Am I like Jesus? I feed my mind with the truth of God, Jesus.

3.  Purge your imagination with the beauty of God.

Scripture offers pictures for our imagination and not simply propositions for our cognition. The beauty of God is perceived not only in wondrous literary chiasms but also in poetic and apocalyptic imagery that fires the imagination. Art takes us places where propositions cannot.  Art, whether fiction, movies, dramas, paintings, mosaics, draws out our emotions where propositions may only engage the intellect. The picture of Revelation 4-5, with thousands and thousands of angels surrounding the Father’s throne, engages our soul, our gut. When the elders cast their crowns before the throne, when the four living creatures bow, when the whole of creation resounds with praise, when thousands of angels sing, the earth shakes and the heavens open to receive the glory of the newly crowned King, Jesus. God’s own throneroom and the meaningfulness of that moment reflect the beauty of God. My imagination embraces that beauty. (Or, it could be the beauty of God’s creation itself!)

4.  Open your heart to the love of God.

Love me? Even with all my stuff. Can God truly delight in me? “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love” (John 15:9). Jesus loves me just like the Father loves Jesus. I must bring my heart–with all its conflicting emotions–into the presence of the Father who loves Jesus.  Their love surrounds me; their love penetrates me.  They love me as they love each other, and they invite me to experience their love.  I sit in the presence of God, and I imagine the Father, Son and Spirit sitting with me.  Their smiles, their touch, their interaction all bespeak a true delight to be in my presence. God loves me, even me. They welcome this moment when I answer their knock at the door and invite them to commune with me.

5.  Devote your will to the purposes of God.

What do you want, O God? What do you desire? It is not burnt offerings; it is not more books; it is not “good deeds.” I want to allign my will with yours.  Like Isaiah, and like the Psalmist (40:7), I declare “Here I am”….I am here to do you will, O God.  “I delight to do your will.” Father, center my will in yours; focus my desires on what you desire because I know you desire only what is good for me and for your creation. Your desire is for me, and my desire is for you. May I, Father, devote myself to your purposes in the world. May I, Father, embrace your mission for your creation, join you in your work, and embody your will in my life. This, Father, is my desire.

Before praying this past week, I have taken five or so minutes of meditative silence to run my mind through each of these points.  Dwelling on the holiness, truth, beauty, love and purposes of God prepares my mind to pray and then to silently listen.  It removes distractions from my mind and focuses me on communing with God with whom I then converse and listen for his response. 

It has been a helpful discipline for me.  I commend it.

“United, Yet Divided”: Understandable and Unavoidable

The article below, by the hand of J. N. Armstrong, first appeared in The Way entitled “United, Yet Divided” [4 (14 August 1902) 156-158]. 

 

Contextually, several factors are involved.  First, the Firm Foundation out of Austin, Texas–under the editorship of Austin McGary–was pushing a sectarian agenda which demanded unity on many fronts as a prerequiste for fellowship (e.g., rebaptism of those received from the Baptists [ or other immersed persons] by “right hand of fellowship” who had been immersed without understanding that baptism was for the remission of sins). This group, which Bobby Valentine and I have called the Texas Tradition, generally opposed Armstrong and the Nashville Bible School. 

 

Second, the Octographic Review out of Indianapolis, Indiana–under the editorship of Daniel Sommer–had initiated an assault on institutionalism (e.g., Bible Colleges) among southern Churches of Christ. This group opposed the sectarianism of the Texans as well as the institutionalism of the Tennesseans. In the first decade of the 20th century Sommer was pushing for separation from both.

 

Third, David Lipscomb (editor of the Gospel Advocate) and James A. Harding (editor of The Way) among others had pursued a rigorous discussion of whether “laying on of hands” in the appointment of elders, deacons and evangelists was a prerequisite as well as the “right hand of fellowship” practice among the churches, that is, a formal corporate reception of a person into the fellowship of a local body by shaking hands.  [My subsequent post will define what these controversies were more precisely.] The spirited nature of the discussion concerned many and some believed it threatened a division within the southern Churches of Christ who generally aligned themselves with the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University).

 

Armstrong’s article is an appeal to think about and practice unity in diversity–”United, Yet Divided.”  In other words, there are commitments that unite believers that transcend some of their disagreements, including division over the ”right hand of fellowship” among other things (e.g., Bible Colleges, rebaptism, etc.). Armstrong wanted discussion to continue even if there is disagreement because this is how truth is pursued. The article reflects the general attitude toward brotherly engagement over disagreements that characterized the Nashville Bible School tradition.

 

From 1897-1907 the Tennessee Tradition, through the Gospel Advocate, The Way, and then Christian Leader & the Way as well as a growing number of Bible Colleges, was the most substantial influence among Churches of Christ. The tradition encouraged irenic discussion among Churches of Christ without division. W. J. Brown of Cloverdale, Indiana, for example, noted that the “tone and spirit” of the GA and The Way were different from other papers whose “lordly editors” subverted the unity of the brotherhood (“Let This Mind Be in You,” The Way 3 [13 June 1901] 88). Free discussion among those who disagree lies behind the title of Armstrong’s article “United, Yet Divided.”

 

Why is division understandable and unavoidable? Because all believers are in a process of sanctification–progressive sanctification, though not all believers always progress and neither do believers progress alike.  Just as believers continue to sin despite growth in holiness, they will continue to hold erroneous ideas despite their devotion to Bible study and desire to “get it right.” Perfect union is an eschatological goal; it awaits the return of Jesus. At the same time, believers seek to progress toward unity though diversity will remain as long as there are multiple levels of maturity among believers.  The church upon the earth is permanently “united but divided.”

 

Here is Armstrong’s article:

  

            Failure to recognize and appreciate man’s imperfections and the different degrees of development in the church is sometimes a discouragement and even an occasion of stumbling to some.

 

            The union required in the church is perfect. Jesus measures it by the union existing between himself and God. “Neither for these only do I pray, but for them also that believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; even as though, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that thou didst send me. And the glory which thou has given me I have given unto them: that they may be one, even as we are one” (John 17:20-22, R. V.).

“Now I beseech you, brethren, through the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfected together in the same mind and in the same judgment” (I Cor. 1:10, R. V.).

 

This all means that a perfect union is required by the New Testament; and the loyal church will seek for it. Jesus and the Father always agreed. They always held to the same doctrine. Both of them knew all the truth and held it unmixed with error. Therefore they are thoroughly one.

 

Just as the model life, Christ’s life, is spotless and perfect, so the standard of union is perfect.

 

I suppose no one ever met a man who came up to the perfect life of Christ in his conduct. Neither did [157] any one ever see, read or hear of a church so perfectly one as Christ and the Father. Before such a church could be, every member must be perfect in knowledge and must hold the truth without error; or all must hold the same truth and the same error; and they must develop alike every day or the union will be destroyed.

 

These are impossibilities, for there are babes, boys and girls, men and women, in Christ, hence the different degrees of development and the varied imperfections that must necessarily exist in every church. Then it is expecting too much to expect perfection in union among such imperfections and developments. Individual growth must continue. Each individual conscience must be respected and left free. On the fundamental principles of Christ the church does agree, and has always agreed. Whenever a man takes Jesus as Lord we are to bear with him in his weakness and wait for him to grow, regardless of his errors and false doctrines. The church at Corinth had members who believed there were other gods than the true God. (See 1 Cor. 8.)

 

            Sometimes two brethren begin to discuss some question through the papers, and Christians raise their hands in holy horror because these brethren differ. Some one says: “I wish our brethren would not debate. It does no good. I am ashamed for the sects to know that ‘our’ brethren debate with each other. I used to give my Advocate and Way to my neighbor, but I have quit it. I don’t want him to know about all these quarrels and differences in ‘our’ church. The brethren ought to agree any way, and when they do disagree, they ought to keep it out of the papers.”

 

I am sorry that Christians think this way. Do you mean by this that you want to deceive the world? Do you want to make them believe that all the brethren who write for the different papers are perfectly agreed? This would be a deception, for no two of them agree in everything, and yet they so agree as to be able to fellowship one another as brethren of the Lord. Each one knows the others are in Christ all are loyal to Christ, and desire to know the truth and to do it. And yet they differ; for none of them hold all the truth, and none are free from error.

 

            I am glad for the world to know of these friendly and Christ-like discussions among the brethren. It shows, that we are not bound down to a man-made creed, but that every man is left to study the Bible for himself. We can never find Bible union “by agreeing to disagree,” by avoiding the discussion of practical and vital differences. Let us have a free and fair discussion of all these matters about which brethren differ whenever these differences involve principle and truth. “But foolish and ignorant questions refuse, knowing that they gender strifes” (2 Tim 2:23, R. V.).

 

            Let those who discuss be sure the questions are practical and profitable.

 

            Do not be discouraged, then, because two brethren may discuss some question about which they may differ. Neither should we let our personal preference for one or the other of these men influence us in reading after them. Let us remember they are only men, and either of them can be wrong. Neither should age influence us too much. Each article ought to go for just what it is worth in truth, regardless of the ability and age of the writers.

 

            Brethren often see bitterness in such discussions just because they are looking for it and expecting it. Many times they talk about bitterness when there is no bitterness.

 

            Repeatedly have I heard of the ‘bitterness’ manifested in the late discussion of ‘Laying on Hands’ between Bros. Lipscomb and Harding. I read every word written by these brethren in this discussion, and re-read much of it, and was much interested in it, and received light from it.  I am glad the discussion occurred. I thought there were a few expressions that were a little sarcastic, and would have been glad had they been left out. But I thought the discussion was a clean, pure, Christ-like discussion, and I believe so yet.

 

            “But,” says one, “how can we little fellows know about these things if such men as these disagree about them?” Many times little fellows find the truth about a matter when big fellows have skipped over it.  Then, too, this sounds like if they agreed about this matter that it would settle it. Whom are you following? It also seems that people are surprised that these men differ. Surely we ought not to expect too much of them, although they be great men. They are not perfect in knowledge, they are not equally developed, and neither one believes things just because the other one does; and how could they agree about everything? Yet both are loyal to Christ, and are so agreed that they can work together and their conscience be left free.

 

But while the above facts are true, it is also true that as every Christian is to strive to live as Christ lived, so every Christian is to seek for that perfect union demanded by the New Testament. Causing divisions contrary to the doctrine of Christ is one of the most grievous sins of the age, and God hates the man who causes these divisions.

 

The only way to bring about New Testament union is for every one to seek for truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The more truth we obtain, the less error we will hold and the more nearly we can unite on everything. He who knowingly causes divisions and factions in the church contrary to the doctrine of God will be lost unless he [158] repents. Every Christian ought to feel as much as he can feel the obligation resting upon him to bring about union. The more he knows of Bible teaching, the more he can agree with other Bible students. My purpose in writing this is to help all to get a full benefit from discussions that occur in the papers. Study them; be interested in them; weigh every argument; watch for the “think so’s” and “maybe’s,” and don’t count them much; study carefully the Scriptures relied on by the different writers; see if the position occupied by the writer is held by the Holy Spirit; then study all the Scriptures that you can find bearing on the subject being discussed. This course will bring union, and bring it fast.

 

The only way for loyal, conscientious brethren who disagree to come together is to gain more light.

 

Christians Among the Sects? James A. Harding Answers

While in Montgomery Alabama for a summer meeting in 1902, James A. Harding answered several questions from the “Question Box” which was available to hearers there.  He answered a few of these through the pages of The Way (“Questions and Answers,” 4 [July 17, 1902] 121-123). One concerned the name “Christian Church” (which he opposed both as a name and as a denominational body), another concerned the differences between Baptist and Christian baptism, and another on the possibility of falling from grace.  The question and answer reproduced below was the most interesting and, given subsequent developments among Churches of Christ, the most surprising answer in that issue of the paper (p. 122).

“Mr. Harding, you say you believe there are people in all the denominational churches who will be saved. Please explain by the Bible how you extend hope to the individual who has accepted sprinkling for baptism.”

I extend no hope to him. Jesus said: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” Sprinkling is not baptism; it is a human substitute for a divine ordinance. It is not the word of God; it is a rejection of the word of God. God is not pleased with it; he abhors it just as he does every substitute of man’s way for God’s way. It is not from above; it is from below.

I suppose there are people among all the so-called “Christian denominations” who have believed in Christ with their whole hearts, who in deep penitence of soul have confessed his holy name, who have been buried with him in baptism and raised to walk in newness of life, who are diligently studying his holy law and who are daily striving to do his will. I say I suppose there are such folks in the denominations, because I have known numbers of such people to come out of them. It is not probable that they are all out yet; but if they remain faithful and diligent, God will be continually leading them out.

Wherever a man is, if he is daily, diligently seeking the truth, if he is promptly walking in it as he finds it, we may expect him to be saved. He will be daily dropping error, daily learning and doing more truth. But for the man who is contentedly abiding in error there is no such hope. Jesus says: “If ye abide in my word, then are ye truly my disciples; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:31, 32). It is nowhere recorded that error makes men free.

We might ask Harding: “But what is faithful diligence that assures sanctification and gives comfort to the believer who has not yet come out of denominationalism?” His answer might be something similar to what he describes as the diligence that will preserve one from apostacy. Here is the last paragraph to his answer on falling from grace (p. 123).

It is more than probable that not more than one-half of those who truly become Christians will be faithful unto death, and so attain to the home of God. This thought ought to spur us up to great diligence in using the four great means of grace whaich God has given us, namely: (1) Diligent, daily study of the Word of God. (2) The fellowship, that is, the partnership with God and his saints. This consists in giving time, money or other needed things, sympathy, help to the poor, the sick, the distressed, and to the spread of the gospel, the building up of the church. (3) The attendance upon the meetings of the Lord’s house. Every Christian should count on attending every meeting of his congregation. Nor should he fail to do so except when he has a reason for not attending which he is sure God will freely accept as a good excuse. At this point I am sure a great multitude deceive themselves fearfully. They imagine they have good excuses for staying away, when those same excuses keep them from going nowhere they want to go. A few attend nearly every service. Nearly all could do it, if they would. (4) The prayers. The Christian should be diligent and regular in secret prayer. It is a good rule to pray regularly four times each day, morning, noon, evening and night, and at other times when occasion requires it. We should give all diligence to attending to these four great means of grace. They should be the most important things in life to us by far, inasmuch as they bring prosperity for this life, and eternal happiness in the world to come.

I explore some of Harding’s thinking on baptism and salvation in my “Gracious Separatist” article in the Restoration Quarterly. We might summarize his position something like this:

• He offers no explicit biblical hope to the unimmersed, but–in other places in his writing and debates–he leaves them to the “uncovenanted mercies” of God and refuses to say unimmersed seekers of God’s will will be damned. In fact, he cautions that  “we know too little of what God is doing in giving light and inducing them to work in it, to decide upon such matters” (“Does Ignorance Excuse Them?” Gospel Advocate 24 [30 November 1882] 758).
• He believes those who have been immersed out of a faith in Christ (even if they did not know if it was for the remission of sins or not, even if they thought they were saved before their immersion) and walk in the light as they see it will be saved even if they continued to be a  member of a particular denomination and did not separate from it.
• Walking in the light, or showing faithful diligence, entails using the “means of grace”: (1) reading the Bible for oneself; (2) giving oneself in ministry for the sake of the poor and the kingdom of God; (3) attending the meetings of the church; and (4) constant, daily prayer.

Given my heritage in Churches of Christ, Harding would not have been appreciated if he had expressed these viewpoints in regions of the church in which I grew up.  Indeed, he would have been thought a “false teacher”–and even now would be thought of as such. Heaven is much more inclusive and the kingdom of God much broader for Harding than for many others in 20th century Churches of Christ.

 

Postscript: Part of the backdrop for this broader vision of the kingdom is the whole theological orientation of the “Nashville Bible School” tradition which Bobby Valentine and I explore in our book Kingdom Come: Embracing the Spiritual Legacy of David Lipscomb and James Harding.

“I Will Change Your Name”

When you feel forsaken or rejected, 

when you feel like a failure or a piece of dirt,

when you feel inadequate or deficient,

when you feel unloved or unchosen,

hear the word of the Lord through Isaiah the prophet

Isaiah 62:2b,4,5b

…you will be called by a new name
       that the mouth of the LORD will bestow…

No longer will they call you Deserted,
       or name your land Desolate.
       But you will be called Hephzibah ["my delight is in her"], 
       and your land Beulah ["married"];
       for the LORD will take delight in you,
       and your land will be married.

…as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride,
       so will your God rejoice over you.

Isaiah’s message is for post-exilic Israel (Isaiah 56-66). The people had returned from Babylonian exile only to find themselves still oppressed, poor, and seemingly abandoned to their fate.  They lived under heavy Persian taxation and were harassed by regional provinces. Jerusalem’s walls were in ruins. Famine and poverty were rampant. The return did not meet expectations; it was not all that it was cracked up to be. Where was the glory of the restoration, the return to the land of promise? The promises of God had seemed to fail. Israel had been deserted and the land was desolate; Israel was rejected and ruined.  The people of God were losing hope.

Isaiah 56-59 outlined Judah’s sins, but Isaiah 60-62 proclaims a message of grace and salvation.  Isaiah 62:1-5 is the climax of that message.  God will not give up on Israel.  He has chosen Jerusalem; it is his city.  He will not relent. His love endures for ever.  He will change Jerusalem’s name, just as he did with Abram, Sarai and Jacob long ago.

Names Matter

God reveals his own character through his names.  Yahweh-Yireh is the Lord who Provides (Gen 22:14).  Yahweh-Shalom is the Lord of Wholeness (Judges 6:24). Yahweh-Mekedesh is the Lord who Sanctifies (Ezk 37:28). The name “Yahweh” means “the one who is” or “I am that I am.” The name of God matters as it defines him and our names matter too because they define us in many ways.

What others call us matter.  They matter because in our woundedness we assimiliate those names within oursleves. “Sticks and stones…but names will never hurt me” is a lie. When, as pre-adolescents, we were labeled “different” or “weird” some of us internalized a life-long stigma in our own minds. Such language and experiences shaped our core beliefs. When we were constantly picked last on the playground, we were named ”unchosen.”  When we were abandoned by a parent, we were named “unworthy.” When we were abused, we were named “worthless.”

What we call ourselves matters. If, at our cores, we call ourselves “worthless” or “pathetic,” it will shape how we relate to people. It will shape the nature of our marriages, our parenting, and our relationships. It will shape our churches. Indeed, self-righteousness within our congregations is often more a matter of maintaining our own self-image and ignoring the truth about ourselves than it is about the welcoming, forgiving holiness of God.

What God calls us truly matters.  And it matters more than our own inadequate and inaccurate views of ourselves. How we hear God–the seive through which we filter God’s word to us–often twists God’s naming.  Though intellectually we may hear God say “beloved,” if our core is filled with shame, hurt, pain and abandonment and if our image of God has been shaped by pictures of Zeus holding lightning bolts ready (even eagar!) to inflict retribution, what we hear is not “beloved” but “loathed.” Since we believe–at our core or gut–that we are not worth loving, we cannot believe that God could actually love us in the midst of our shame, abandonment, and sin.

My Names

Only recently have I recognized with any depth the significance of other’s names for us and our names for ourselves.  In recent months I have discovered that at my core–in my own self-image–I had lived with some names that have negatively impacted me. Whether self-generated, or imposed by others, or impressed upon me by circumstances, these names nearly destroyed me earlier this year.  Here are a few of my “old” names for myself.

Forsaken.   I felt this intensely when Sheila died in 1980 after only two years and eleven months of marriage. I felt it again when Joshua was diagnosed with a terminal genetic defect and then died at the age of sixteen in 2001.  Why, God, have you forsaken me? Will you forsake me forever? Why are you picking on me? Is there something wrong with me that you rip my joy from me and every day fill my heart with sorrow?

Failure.  I have felt this most deeply since  my divorce. I failed at the most important relationship in my life. During that trauma I was disillusioned, confused, and deeply hurt. I now own much more of the causes of that divorce than I did in 2001, but  this only increases my sense of failure. The name, seemingly, only gets more apporpriate with time.

Deficient.  One of my early core beliefs is “I am not enough.” Consequently, emotionally I have sought approval and the most effective mode which I found was through work.  Approval-seeking became an addiction. I am a workaholic.  I stuffed myself with addictive behavior in order to feel good about myself, to gain approval, and connect with others.  But ultimately it was an empty feeling. Whatever approval I received was never enough; I always needed more and was envious when others received acclaim.  And I needed more because at my core–somehow, someway–I had been named ”Deficient.”

What is your name? How have you been named? What have you felt in your gut and believed at your core that has shaped how you see youself, others and God?

I am only beginning to understand the names I have worn.  But I know there is something better.  God himself has named me. Those are the names I want to internalize; I want to see myself and others through the lens of God’s naming.

God Changed My Name

Israel and I have chewed some of the same dirt.  Forsaken…Rejected…Desolate. Indeed, we have all worn these names in one form or another.  But there is good news–there is gospel.  God changes names and only he can truly do so. To try to change my own name is an illusion, futile and another attempt to fill what is lacking by my own efforts. God must name me and, when he names me, he makes it true.

Isaiah provides a startling image for us which enables us to enter this story emotionally as well as intellectually.  Yahweh’s new name for Israel is “My delight is in her”–the one in whom he delights.  He loves her, enjoys being with her, and yearns for her presence. Yahweh’s name for Israel is “Married”–he unites himself with his people for the sake of intimacy; he wants to know his bride.  Yahweh rejoices over his people like a bridegroom rejoices over his bride–his joy surpasses a wedding celebration.

This is how God feels. This is the truth about his people.  “I will rejoice over you,” declares Yahweh. The king of the cosmos does not sit on his throne without emotional engagement with his creation.  Quite the contrary, God choses his bride, delights in her, dresses her in a bridal gown, and celebrates her with dancing and festivity.

This is how God feels about us.  Our past self-styled names are false names–they are no longer true if they ever were.  We have new names–names bestowed by God.  No longer are we ”Forsaken” but we are “Chosen.”  No longer are we “Failure” but we are “Married.”  No longer are we “Deficient” but we are “Blessed”!  Though he knows the depths of our hearts (which are not always pretty), he loves us just as he loves his own Son (John 17:23).

God’s word to each of us is “You are beloved; you are the one in whom I delight.”  He welcomes us, dresses us in festive robes, spreads a table of the best food and the finest wines, and spends the evening dancing with his bride. God wants us and he stands in applause as we wear the names he has given us….Chosen…Beloved…Married…Blessed.

The lyrics of D. J. Butler’s ”I Will Change Your Name” speak the essence of this text; hear them, believe them. It is the word of God through Isaiah to each of us.

I will change your name
You shall no longer be called
Wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid

I will change your name
Your new name shall be
Confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one
Faithfulness, friend of God
One who seeks My face.

**Sermon (audio here) delivered at Woodmont Hills Church of Christ on December 28, 2008**

Controversies over Hands–Forgotten Debates

David Lipscomb (1831-1917) and James A. Harding (1848-1922) belonged to the same theological orbit. They started the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University) together in 1891. Harding, for a time, was an associate editor of the Gospel Advocate in the 1880s. They agreed on a host of theological issues, including opposition to rebaptism, renewed earth eschatology, special providence, pacifism, sole allegiance to the kingdom of God in opposition to allegiance to the nations, etc. Bobby Valentine and I have written about their spiritual legacy among Churches of Christ in Kingdom Come.

However, they did not agree on everything.  Harding, I believe, was more of a hardliner on ecclesial practices. His insistence on following the examples of the New Testament and the use of the command, example, and inference (CEI) hermeneutic was more strenuous than Lipscomb.  While Lipscomb opted for some flexibility here, Harding sought precision in every detail when it came to imitating the New Testament church.

Two of the most significant disagreements, which yield considerable discussion in the first decade of the 20th century, regarded the use of hands–the laying on of hands and the right hand of fellowship.  On both of these issues Harding insisted on following what he thought was the biblical pattern whereas Lipscomb failed to discern any precise or obligatory pattern on these questions.  Consequently, we have a good example of two prominent leaders among Churches of Christ from the same theological orbit addressing “church practices” in relation to the biblical pattern on the basis of the same hermeneutic but yet disagreeing.  They were “divided” but somehow remained “united,” as Armstrong’s article reproduced in my previous post trumpets.

Laying on of Hands

Lipscomb thought it unnecessary and without Scriptural authority, but Harding believed he was following the example of the apostles and their example should always be followed when it comes to ecclesial practices.

Harding believed that elders and evangelists should be appointed through a laying on of the hands, fasting and prayer.  This is the apostolic example of Acts 13:1-2 and Acts 14:23. Regarding these texts, Harding wrote:  “we learn that we are under solemn obligation to follow apostolic teaching and example, that in so doing we are following Christ. If we neglect to follow apostolic teaching and example, we neglect to follow Christ.”  It is, according to Harding, “scriptual and safe” when elders are appointed in this way (“A Reply to Bro. Elam on the Appointment of Elders,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [9 April 1907] 8-9).

Lipscomb contended that there was no example of anyone appointed to an office by the laying of hands in the New Testament.  At one level, Lipscomb did not believe the evangelist or elder occupied an office, and at another level he did not believe there was any example of appointing persons to a task by the laying on of hands.  Since there is no biblical example or precept, there is no obligation. Indeed, it is “a practice without scriptural authority” (“Appointment and Laying on of Hands,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [27 March 1906] 4).

Do we follow apostolic example or not? Is there an example? Is it binding? The Churches of Christ, in the first decade of the 20th century, were divided on these questions.  Jesse Sewell and James A. Harding on one side of the question and David Lipscomb along with E. A. Elam and others on the other side .  This, according to Harding, is a “very radical difference in judgment” between believers “who are on most points of doctrine in full accord” (“A Reply to Bro. Elam on the Appointment of Elders,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [9 April 1907] 8). It needs to be settled so that there is no division.

Right Hand of Fellowship

Daniel Sommer–editor of the Octographic Review–thought it necessary, Lipscomb–editor of the Gospel Advocate– thought it good but optional, and Harding–editor of The Way– thought it should be prohibited.

In the late nineteenth century, the dominant practice–”nearly all, if not all, congregations of the disciples of Christ” (Harding, “What Does the Bible Teach on the Right Hands of Fellowship?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [11 December 1906] 8)– of receiving another person from one congregation to another was by the corporate extenstion of the “right hand of fellowship.” This was a corporate, congregational act. The whole congregation lined up to extend their “right hand of fellowship” one by one to the new member as part of the assembly itself.  Sometimes, however, an elder acted for the whole congregation in receiving the new member.  Either way it was an ecclesial act in the assembly. The “right hand of fellowship,” then, brought that new member under the oversight of the eldership of that particular congregation. When this was extended to a Baptist who wanted to now join fellowship with a Church of Christ, those who opposed this union with a Baptist without rebaptism called this “shaking in the Baptists.”

Sommer believed that Acts 15, Galatians 2, and Acts 11 all involved the reception of members through the right hand of fellowship. He believed there was apostolic example.  Moreover, he believed that it was an “unavoidable conclusion” that members should be received through the “right hand of fellowship” into a local church so that the elders of that congregation might have disciplinary authority.  No congregation can exercise discipline unless there was some formal entrance into the local congregation itself. (See his articles “Concerning the Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 45 [11 November 1902] 1, 8 and “Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1, 8.)

Though he onced practiced the custom, when Harding was thirty-four he discovered it was not in the New Testament. From then on he regarded it as an innovation. If we cannot “read it in the very words of the New Testament” it should not appear in the assembly (“What Does the Bible Teach on the Right Hands of Fellowship?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [11 December 1906] 8). Though it is often regarded as a “church ordinance” rivaling baptism and the Lord’s Supper, there is no authority in Scripture for this congregational act in the assembly.  Any fair look at the New Testament would discover that “the giving of the right hands of fellowship for the purpose of receiving baptized belivers into the fellowship of the congregation is without Scriptural authority” (“Brother Sommer’s Visit. No. II.,” The Way 5 [30 July 1903], 755). According to Harding, it is a “high crime against God, Christ and the Holy Spirit” to add an unauthorized practice to the assembly, and such additions will receive the judgment of God just like Uzzah.  We should, according to Harding, “give up this unapostolic, man-made ordinance, and abide in the teaching of Christ”…and we should “remember Uzzah” (“An Article Suggested by Brethren Cain, Hillyard and ‘A Well-Known’ Texas Preacher,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [30 April 1907] 8).

Interestingly, on this question Harding was alligned with the majority of writers in the Firm Foundation (one notable exception is Jackson, McGary’s co-editor in the 1890s). For example, Price Billingsley (“‘Hand of Fellowship’ Again,” Firm Foundation 18 [14 April 1902] 2) writes that “we can not worship and honor God in doing something that he has not told us to do; and it must be that these things are done to please men; and if true it becomes mockery instead of true. worship.” It is an “unauthorized” practice since there is no command, example or inference for it as a corporate act in the assembly.

Another interesting dimension of this debate is that the precise difference between Sommer and Harding, according to Sommer, is that Harding extends the right hand of fellowship individually to new members after the formal closure of the assembly while Sommer does it in the assembly (“Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1) and that Harding thinks it authorized for individuals as individuals but not for the corporate body.  Does that sound familiar to anyone?  I remember discussions about whether a College chorus (choir) was permissable as long as it was heard after the closing prayer of the assembly and noninstitutionalists stress the significant difference between individual and corporate acts. Harding argued something similar about the right hand of fellowship.  Somethings don’t change when we seek a pattern in the New Testament that does not exist. 

No Division

Churches of Christ did not divide over these issues.  Though Harding–as one among others–thought the questions were matters of compliance with apostolic example (laying on of hands) and the silence of Scripture(right hands), the movement as a whole did not divide.  (There were, however, a few congregations that did divide.) 

Lipscomb’s methods prevailed. Lipscomb regarded “right hands” as optional, and given the desire for unity, it was done after the closing prayer rather than in the assembly.  Elders were generally appointed without the laying on of hands and usually–if not practically always–without fasting.  By the 1950s it was a rare congregation that had a communal ceremony for receiving new members with the right hand of fellowship in the assembly and that appointed elders through fasting and the laying on of hands.Churches of Christ, in my experience and in my reading in the mid and late 20th century, were not convinced by Harding’s arguments but followed Lipscomb’s practice on both the right hand of fellowship and the appointment of elders. 

What we have in this story is an example how Churches of Christ negotiated their hermeneutic so that they did not divide over these questions even though the same principles and hermeneutic were utilized to separate from congregations that used musical instruments in their assemblies.

Perhaps “common sense” prevailed–as it has saved us from our hermeneutic at times in the past.  Perhaps instrumental music was such an embedded cultural concern (“worldliness”) that it transcended mere pattern arguments. (Remember one of the first articles against instrumental music in the Stone-Campbell Movement was also about dancing!)  I don’t know, but it is an interesting question to think about.

In our history, some things divide us but do not subvert the unity (“right hands” and “laying on of hands”).  Other things divide us and prevent unity (“instrumental music” and whether there should be more than one elder).  But both are pursued through the same hermeneutic with the same assumptions about assembly and ecclesial patterns. Some things create a division, others do not.

Go figure. 

P.S. I found this particular paragraph from Daniel Sommer quite interesting, and it is filled with questions about the ambiguity of the received hermeneutic–to what does it apply and to what does it not apply.  Sommer, “Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1, 8.  See what you think.

     Another evidence that those who denounce a formal giving of the right hands of fellowship are technical is that they have never been, they are not, and never will be consistent.  They say, “There is no divine precept nor example for a formal giving of the right hands of fellowship, and therefore it should not be practiced.” But this is what may be called “one premise logic.” The major premise is suppressed. What is that major premise? It is this general proposition: Whatever practice is not authorized by divine precept or example should not be adopted, or, having been adopted, should be discontinued. Those who assume that such a proposition is true, will need to discontinue all formal exercises when they are going to preach to sinners, all formal invitations to sinners in the public congregation, all formal invitation songs in the congregation, all rising up to give thanks at the communion table, all formality in regard to attidute in time of prayer, all formal invitations to preachers to hold protracted meetings, and all formal acceptance of such invitations on the part of preachers, all formal keeping of church records, and all formal business meetings of the church. I could mention more, but this is enough.

Mercy, Not Sacrifice: Sabbath Controversy in Matthew 12

A ”God of technicalities”?

The first article I ever published in academia was “The Sabbath Controversy in Matthew: An Exegesis of Matthew 12:1-14″ which appeared in the Restoration Quarterly 27.2 (1984) 79-91. I have now uploaded this on my Academic page.

At some point in the future, I may reflect in personal terms on how that study subsequently impacted me. But that is for another time when I have more time. Perhaps I will make it part of a series about theological turning points in my life. 

However, I linked it today because it relates to my last post, especially the paragraph I quoted from Daniel Sommer at the end of that post. Sommer rebuked what he called a “technical” use of the hermeneutic of silence and authorization. No doubt many wondered whether Sommer himself was not guilty of similar technicalities on where he drew lines of fellowship. In other words, why is the use of instrumental music in a worshipping assembly a godly reason to limit fellowship but to break fellowship over the right hand of fellowship is a technicality? Especially, I might add, when we have technical definitions of when a worshipping assembly begins and ends (choirs–even instruments!–are permitted after the closing prayer but not before), whether a family worship in the home using the piano meets the definition of “worshipping assembly, etc.

Sommer’s language of technicality intrigued me.  That language sometimes pops up in the Stone-Campbell Movement. One recent example  is F. LaGard Smith’s argument that the God of Jesus is a “God of technicalities” (e.g., Naaman, Uzzah) in his Who is My Brother? Facing A Crisis of Identity and Fellowship (p. 252; also p. 127).

It seems to me that this is exactly where Matthew 12:1-14, including the quotation of Hosea 6:6, has something to teach us.  God is not interested in technicalities–he desires mercy rather than sacrifice.  Technically, David broke the law when he ate the “bread of presence” because he was hungry and in a hurry.  Technically, the priests profane the Sabbath every week when they offer sacrifices on the Sabbath.  But if we understand the heart of God, then we will not make these technicalities into fellowship barriers between God and humanity.

Jesus quotes Hosea 6:6 as a hermeneutical principle.  If the Pharisees had known the meaning of Hosea 6:6, they would have had the theological and hermenutical lens through which to consider the actions of others. If they had known the meaning of Hosea 6:6, they would not have condemned the disciples….and neither would we condemn David…and perhaps we might not condemn each other as well.

When we evaluate others based on the technicalities of ritual and precision obedience, we miss the heart of God. God is relational, not technical.  God is more interested in mercy than he is ritual.  God is more interested in relationship than he is perfectionistic precision. This is the declaration of Hosea 6:6, the application of Jesus, and Matthew expects his readers to embrace it as a principle for living in relationship with others (see also the use of “mercy” in 9:13 and 23:23).

This does not entail a rationale or an excuse for disobedience, but it should soften our heart with the mercy of God as we relate to others. After all, should we not treat others with the mercy with which God treats us? And, indeed, I need lots of mercy…mercy for my actions, my words, my ignorance…and much more!  I am grateful that God’s heart yearns for mercy more than sacrifice, for heart more than ritual, for relationality more than technicality.

The article I have posted–first written as a seminar paper for a course at Western Kentucky University in 1980–was one of my first steps toward seeing God’s heart instead of what I once thought was his technicalities.  Maybe it might help you…or maybe not.  

Facing Our Failures: A Review

Peter Abelard (1079-1142), who pioneered the scholastic method of theologizing, produced a volume entitled Sic et Non (or, “Yes and No”) for use in teaching through the dialectic method. It is a composition of quotes from earlier theologians and fathers on a variety of topics, but they are arranged oppositionally, that is, some theologians say “Yes” and others say “No.” He does suggest that some may be harmonized by understanding the semantic variation of key terms (thus the use of dialectics), but he does not attempt to harmonize them.

Todd Deaver–not to rank him with Abelard in the history of Christian thought (sorry, Todd)–has done something similar. He has given us the “Yes” and “No” to the questions of fellowship, boundaries and salvation among conservatives (traditionalists) with Churches of Christ in the past thirty years. His new, self-published book Facing Our Failures: The Fellowship Dilemma in Conservative Churches of Christ points out that the presupposition that “every practice considered to be unauthorized in the New Testament is grounds for breaking fellowship” is incoherently explained, inconsistently applied, and ambiguously stated among traditional Churches of Christ (p. 18).

It is ambiguous because many disagree about what is unauthorized and what is unauthorized (his list on pp. 52-56 is impressively documented; e.g., praying to Jesus in the assembly).  It is inconsistenly applied because fellowship still exists (or is claimed) between those who disagree about what is authorized and what is unauthorized (e.g., why is instrumental music in the assembly grounds for breaking fellowship when clapping during songs or singing during the Lord’s Supper is not?).  It is incoherent because the method by which this is discerned is unclear and inconsistent (e.g., what is the deciding factor or criterion? the assembly?).

Todd meticulously cites and details these problems.  Though the inconsistencies pointed out have been previously noted by others (there is a long history of this since the 1960s), what makes Todd’s book valuable is his thorough grounding of his argument in the writings of conservatives (traditionalists). We are able to see the problem unfold through the contrasting words of conservative writers themselves (thus, Sic et Non). And Todd does this without malice, sarcasm and with great appreciation for the faith and commitment of the traditionalists he cites.

Further, Todd does not simply contrast–unlike Abelard. Rather, he seeks to understand what is at the root of the contrary statements, explores possible harmonizations, and probes the inner logic of the conservative position. 

Todd concludes that the paradigm is the problem (chapter five:  “Our Paradigm is the Problem,” pp. 81-104).  If any doctrinal error (and if not any, then which ones, and how do we decide) excludes us from the fellowship of God as per the traditional interpretation of 2 John 9, and “persistence in any unauthorized practice warrants the breaking of fellowship,” and “our salvation depends on” identifying the correct “limits of fellowship,”  then Todd believes conservatives (including himself among conservatives) are in quite a pickle.  He asks:  “Who among us has the boundaries of fellowship figured out completely and with absolute certainty?” (p. 88).  No one, he concludes, and this entails that the paradigm itself is flawed and “extreme.”

Todd searches for consistency within the conservative position and he fails to find it. “We consistently withdraw from those who worship with the instrument because we believe such is without scriptural authority,” he writes, “yet we continually fellowship some who do other things we believe to be just as unauthorized” (p. 106).  And, at the same “we teach that we cannot fellowship those who bind where God has loosed, and we maintain fellowship with many brethren who oppose as sinful practices which we believe to be authorized” (p.  107; e.g., supporting children’s homes from the church treasury).

At root, Todd has deconstructed the ecclesiological perfectionism of the conservative (traditionalist) understanding of fellowship and authorized practices. Such perfectionism on fellowship and boundaries is unattainable (and, I would add, not intended by the authors of the New Testament). This was the “sole purpose” of his book (p. 108).

Todd does not offer a solution to the problem; that is not his purpose and there is no solution within the current paradigm. Rather, he suggests that what is needed is a “theological shift” (p. 110) whereby we turn to a different paradigm. 

I trust that this “shift” is partly a shift from ecclesiological perfectionism to Christological centrism. Many, including myself,  have suggested this as a way out of our incessant dividing and infighting (see my series on theological hermeneutics).  The value of Todd’s book is that is a fearless, fair and friendly demonstration that the current paradigm among conservative (traditionalist) Churches of Christ is a dead end–and, I would add, ultimately harmful and destructive.

Thanks, Todd, for your work.  I encourage those interested in the documentation and argumentation to purchase and read the book. The dialogue will continue at Todd’s new website “Bridging the Grace Divide.”

Texas Vs. Tennessee (1939)

George DeHoff (1913-1993), a native of Arkansas but a powerful influence in Tennessee throughout most of the 20th century, entered Harding College in the summer of 1934 and then transferred to Freed-Hardeman College in 1935. He experienced two different worlds in those years. He had previously attended Burritt College between 1929 and 1933 so he was primarily interested in biblical studies when he went to Harding and Freed-Hardeman.

At Harding, he studied under J. N. Armstrong and B. F. Rhodes–both Nashville Bible School graduates. At Freed-Hardeman, he studied under N. B. Hardeman, C. P. Roland, L. L. Brigance, and W. Claude Hall. Though both schools operated under the leadership of men in Churches of Christ, his teachers moved in different theological circles. George DeHoff followed the Freed-Hardeman path rather than 1930s Harding path.

Bobby Valentine and I have proposed a particular reading of Stone-Campbell history that recognizes a significant difference between the theology that shaped the Nashville Bible School (Tennessee Tradition as represented by the Gospel Advocate in the 1880s-1910s) and the theology that shape the Texas Tradition (represented by the Firm Foundation in th 1880s-1910s).  We (along with others such as Robert Hooper in A Distinct People) have argued that the Texas Tradition scored a coup-d’etat in the 1930s when Foy E. Wallace, Jr. (1930-1934) and John T. Hinds (1934-1938 ) assumed the editorship of the  Gospel Advocate–both of whom were Texans and writers for the Firm Foundation in previous years.

George DeHoff illustrates the battle for the soul of Churches of Christ that was raging  in the early decades of the 20th century. The Texas Tradition captured DeHoff’s allegiance in the 1930s if not before. This is clear from a guest editorial published in the February issue of the 1939 The Bible Banner, edited by Foy E. Wallace, Jr. He blasted Harding College, particularly J. N. Armstrong, and supported Freed-Hardeman and N. B. Hardeman. (In the 1940s DeHoff would teach at Freed-Hardeman and even be considered for its presidency when Hardeman resigned.)

DeHoff’s editorial–which is actually a letter declaring Harding College unsound (sound familiar?)–indicates some of the continued theological differences between the two traditions. These were obvious and debated in the 1890s-1910s, but slowly the Texas Tradition was squeezing out the Tennessee voices by the late 1930s.  J. N. Armstrong (d. 1944) was one of those voices.  Here are a few of the particulars that DeHoff “learned” in Armstrong’s classes while at Harding. They represent some of the differences between Texas and Tennessee. The emphases are mine.

“I learned that  many of our preachers are making a cold, formal system of legalism out of the gospel and their preaching is devoid of spirituality.  John T. Hinds and N. B. Hardeman were called by name.”

“I learned that God’s providence is the same in both Old and New Testaments.

“I learned…that the Holy Spirit dwells personally in the Christian and not just through the ‘mere word’.”

“I learned that our preachers have preached too much on baptism and ‘have stressed it all out of joint’ and ‘overemphasized‘ it.”

“I learned that we are ‘creed bound’ and that ‘our unwritten creed’ is as strong as any denominational creed.”

“I learned that God is not going to be cheated out of his earth but in all probability will have heaven here on earth.”

“I learned that many of the pioneer preachers believed in premillennialism and no one kicked up a fuss about it.”

“I learned that Foy E. Wallace, Jr.., had caused far more trouble with his theory of the millennium than R. H. Boll had.”

Actually, I wish DeHoff had “learned” these truths instead of rejecting them. They represent Armstrong quite accurately (as well as the Tennessee Tradition at the turn of the 20th century).  DeHoff made his choice. He chose what he thought was Bible teaching but it was actually the Texas Tradition come to  Tennessee and sinking deep roots into its soil.

When I was at Freed-Hardeman in the 1970s we commonly referred to Harding as the “liberal school across the river” (Mississippi).  Apparently, they were saying that in the 1930s as well….but for different reasons, at least on some points.

Contemporary “conservative” or “traditional” Churches of Christ are actually the remnants of the Texas Tradition. They were the “winners” in the struggle between Tennessee and Texas, and their victory was apparent in the 1940s. But the Tennessee Tradition did not die.  It remained alive in several quarters (partly at Harding College itself) until a renewed emphasis on the personal indwelling of the Spirit, grace and fellowship arose in the 1960s (e.g., K. C. Moser) would persuade some young ministers that the Churches of Christ had made a wrong turn in the 1930s.  The struggle for the soul of Churches of Christ continued…and still continues.

Another Example: Texas and Tennessee Clash

Foy E. Wallace, Jr. dubbed Harding College “an incubus of error” and “unsound” in the May 1941 issue of The Bible Banner.  Wallace’s assault against George Benson, J. N. Armstrong and Harding College is a good illustration of the tension between the Texas and Tennessee theological traditions within Churches of Christ. The emphases below are mine.

The testimony concerning George S. Benson. It has been brought out in direct testimony that after Brother Benson returned from China he taught that miracles were yet in force and that he was a witness to the casting out of devils in a man in China and, moreover, by a sectarian preacher! And it is also shown in this array of charges that until very recently Brother Benson admitted his premillennial views…Premillennialism is not all that is wrong at Harding. The byproducts of this theory are many. Brother Armstrong has been wrong on nearly everything, and has planted all of these errors in his schools in various locations, Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas. We can furnish plenty of witnesses from Oklahoma. Brother Harper has already furnished them from Arkansas. His teaching on the work of the Holy Spirit has been contradictory to the fundamentals of the gospel, which accounts for his public statements that Bogard whipped Hardeman on the Holy Spirit debate-he is more in agreement with Bogard than Hardeman or any other gospel preacher. His teaching on miraculous answers to prayer in connection with direct special providence is carried to the worst sectarian extremes….Brother Armstrong has taught this kind of foolishness all of his life in all of his schools. He has been wrong on the sectarian baptism question, and would hardly baptize a Baptist, if he wanted to be. He was dead set against the Firm Foundation in all of these controversies of the past and has never strengthened any young preacher along any of these lines. The young men who have come from Harding strong in the faith, are strong in spite of the fact that they attended Harding College and not because of it….”Harding needs to get right.” Verily, it does.

It is significant that Wallace identifies the Firm Foundation as the journal that would take the opposite view on all of these questions.  Armstrong, a graduate and then teacher at the Nashville Bible School, followed his father-in-law James A. Harding’s theological trajectory.  The battle between the Firm Foundation and the Gospel Advocate in the 1890s-1910s extended into the 1940s when the last–for all practical purposes–holdout for the Tennessee tradition was Harding College.  The early 1940s saw repeated attempts to force Harding College to conform to the expectations of the Texas Tradition (e.g., fire all teachers who believed in premillennialism). E. R. Harper and Foy  E. Wallace, Jr. led the assault.

Theologically, some of the differences are apparent in the quoted paragraph.

1.  Tennessee did not see premillennialism as problematic; indeed, many of them believed it.  The Texas tradition was amillennial.

2.  Tennessee believed that miracles still occurred in answer to prayer (though miraculous gifts to individuals had ceased).  Texas believed providence operated by the laws of nature and miracles no longer happened.

3.  Tennessee believed that faith in Jesus was sufficient for baptism.  Texas believed that what one believed about baptism also determined whether a baptism was valid or not.

4.  Tennessee believed in the personal indwelling of the Spirit. Texas did not.

5.  Another difference, not mentioned in this litanny by Wallace, but would become a stinging issue within seven months is the war question.  Tennessee was pacifistic in varying senses, but Texas (particularly in the person of Wallace) was hawkish on the war.

As Wallace indicates, these are no small differences.  Armstrong, he thought, was wrong on “nearly everything.” These differences reflected a different orientation to kingdom life.  Whereas Wallace (and the Texas Tradition as a whole) operated out of order, law and human mechanics (e.g., “five steps of salvation” were all human acts), Armstrong (and the Tennessee Tradition as a whole) operated out of mystery, grace and divine dynamics. 

While they shared many views (e.g., on instrumental music, church polity, baptism for the remission of sins, etc.), these particulars were understood against two very different theological worldviews.  They could live together comfortably when there was a significant common enemy (e.g., Baptists, Christian Church, etc.), but when they engaged each other they both knew that the other had, as Luther supposedly told Zwingli at Marburg in 1529, a “different spirit.”

Division in the Stone-Campbell Movement: A Case Study

Winchester, Kentucky, is a small town of only 16,000 in a county (Clark) of 33,000.  The city lies in the heart of the origins of the Stone-Campbell Movement. Within a sixty mile radius are Lexington, Cane Ridge, Mt. Sterling, Georgetown and other famous cities of the early years of that history. The story of the Stone-Campbell Movement in Winchester, KY illustrates the progress and process of division within the movement.

Division One, Baptist-Christian: In 1812 the Strode’s Station Church (formed in 1791), a member of the North District Association of Baptist Churches, moved 1.5 miles to a lot on Lexington Road in Winchester and became known as the “Friendship Church.”  In 1821 it reported 125 members led by Elder Quisenberry.  In 1822 Quisenberry was dismissed by a minority in the church because of his interest in the teachings of Barton W. Stone (since 1814) and Alexander  Campbell’s “Sermon on the Law” (given in 1816). Though Quisenberry withdrew his leadership, the result was two congregations known as “Friendship Church” in Winchester–one (ultimately the First Baptist Chuch) belonging to the Licking Association and the other (ultimately the first Stone-Campbell congregation) a member of the North District Association. The Stone-Campbell group renamed themselves “Christian Church at Friendship” in 1825 and moved their membership to the Boone Association.

Division Two, Baptist-Christian:  In 1828 Elder William Morton, the regular preacher for the Christian Church, preached the introductory sermon for the Boone Association when it met at Winchester. At this meeting a resolution was proposed to abolish the Association’s constitution and accept the Bible alone as their rule of faith and practice.  In 1829, the Christian Church at Friendship, along with five other congregations, withdrew from the Boone Association. These churches were now independent and informally associated with the work of John “Racoon” Smith and Jacob Creath, Sr.  Elder Morton himself baptized 300 persons in the first six months of 1828 through his intinerant evangelism. The Winchester “Christian Church at Friendship” was clearly situated within the orbit of Alexander Campbell’s influence though Stone held a camp meeting at Winchester in 1832. Campbell preached at Winchester in 1834 (and later in 1851). Aylette Rains served as a monthly preacher for the Christian Church from 1834-1861. Raines lost favor with the congregation due to his unionist proclivities when the church essentially wanted to stay neutral. The congregation erected a new building in 1845 and became known as the “Court Street Christian Church,” started a Sunday School in 1850 ,and by 1865 numbered 300.

Division Three, Black-White:  Prior to the Civil War the Friendship Church and its descendent the Court Street Christian Church counted some blacks among their members. Sometime after the Civil War an African-American Christian Church appeared in Winchester (there were only four in Kentucky prior to the Civil War), one of nearly seventy African-American congregations organized from 1865-1900 in Kentucky. The Broadway Christian Church obtained property in 1868. Little is known about the origins of this particular congregation. The congregation never grew above 100 and still exists.

Division Four, Instrumental-Noninstrumental: In 1887 the organ was introduced into the public worship of the church at Winchester (the same year it was introduced in Georgetown and Hopkinsville, KY).  Trouble had apparently been brewing for a while. This is the home church of James W. Harding (1823-1919) and his son James  A. Harding (1848-1922). J. W.’s mother and grandmother had been members of the original Friendship Church and J. W. was baptized by Rains in 1839. Though a local buisnessman, he was an Elder at the church and an intinerant evangelist in the region. He was close friends with Moses Lard and J. W. McGarvey. While the organ was originally introduced into the Sunday School as a compromise, when it was moved into the public assembly this “drove out a number of the oldest, wisest and best members” (according to W. F. Neal).  The organ remained in the church despite a petition signed by “forty-five conscientious members.” They began a new congregation in the home of J. W. Harding with fifteen people and was known, after the erection of a building in 1891, as the  ”Fairfax Street Church of Christ.” By 1898 the membership was 378. At the turn of the century, the Fairfax Street Church of Christ (400 members) and the Court Street Christian Church (600 members) were the largest churches in Winchester.

Division Five, Premillennial-Amillennial: The Fairfax Church employed their first regular minister in 1912, H. C. Shoulders. When he was dismissed in 1917, 240 members organized a new congregation on January 19, 1918 known as the Main Street Church of Christ. Apparently, generational and leadership issues (growing dissatisfaction with the Hardings) as well as millennialism were the center of the tension. The Fairfax Church was only left with 68 members. Though briefly reunited in 1926 after the deaths of some of the Hardings and some agreement about toning down the millennialism, fifteen people began to meet at the Fairfax building by the end of the year (the same number that started meeting in 1887). Eventually the Fairfax church grew to 100 and has hovered in that neighborhood ever since. The division between the two churches was acerbated and written in stone by the debate on premillennialism held in Winchester between Charles M. Neal and Foy E. Wallace, Jr., from January 2-7, 1933. The premillennial movement within Churches of Christ operated a Bible College at Winchester from 1949-1979.

Division Six, Disciples of Christ and Christian Church/Churces of Christ:  The Court Street Christian Church, now known as the First Christian Church, moved into a new building in 1908 and employed a well-known minister by the name of J. H. MacNeill. He became a board member of the College of the Bible (now Lexington Theological Seminary), ultimately its chairman, and was a major player in the formation of the United Missionary Society.  Between 1917-1918, at the time of the heresy trials at the College of the Bible, MacNeill began reporting his work through the Christian Evangelist rather than the Christian Standard.  However, a few in his congregation opposed his College associations and he resigned in 1923 (4 accepted, 2 abstained and 20 refused the resignation). The First Christian Church was well-entrenched in the direction of the Disciples of Christ, the United Missionary Society, and “liberal” higher education. It would not be until 1973 when an independent Christian Church/Churches of Christ congregation would be planted in the city (Calvary Christian Church) and another followed known as the Christview Christian Church (though three  congregations in the County were listed in the 1960 direction of Christian/Churches and Churches of Christ:  Log Lick, Antioch, and Ruckersville with Forest Grove added in 1965).

Division Seven, Institutional-Noninstitutional:  Throughout the 1950s Churches of Christ nationwide debated whether churches should support Colleges, children’s homes, and sponsored missionaries. For one side (institutionalists) it was an expedient means, for the other it was the machinery of denominationalism (noninstitutionalists). In 1964 a small group in the Fairfax Church of Christ withdrew after several years of discussion when the church decided to support orphans homes out of their church treasury rather than simply providing an optional “non-worship activity” box for such contributions in the foyer. This group ultimately planted a new congregation in Winchester in 1966.

Winchester, KY, is Exhibit A for the history of division within the Stone-Campbell Movement.  Within the city limits of this small town in the heart of Stone-Campbell history, are two Christian Churches, three Churches of Christ, and two Christian Churches/Churches of Christ.  They number about 1600 out of a popuation of 16,000 people.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) I

One of the forgotten debates from the first decade of the 20th century among Churches of Christ is whether audible participation in the assembly through prayer, singing, and exhortation was a woman’s privilege or a subversion of the created order. May a woman lead prayer in the assembly? May a woman lead singing in the assembly? May a woman exhort, edify or comfort the assembly through audible speech?  May a woman read Scripture in the assembly?

These were live issues among Churches of Christ at the turn of the 20th century.  In writing an article to be published this summer, I read through the Firm Foundation, Gospel Advocate, The Way, The Octographic Review, Christian Leader, and the Christian Leader & the Way for the years 1897-1907.  During those ten years Churches of Christ established their ”distinct and separate”  identity from the Christian Church.  1897 is a good beginning point since this is the year that David Lipscomb recognized a “radical and fundamental difference” between the disciples of Christ and the “society folks” (GA, 1897, 4).  1907 is a good ending point since that year Lipscomb acknowledged that the Churches of Christ were a ”distinct and separate” body from the Christian Church (GA, 1907, 450).

During those ten years Churches of Christ also struggled (and continued to struggle beyond that decade) over the exact form and nature of that identity.  One issue that was debated–heatedly and pervasively–was the question of female privilege or silence. Is it a woman’s privilege  to participate audibly in the assembly or must they be wholly silent except for singing?  In the next few posts I will explore this largely forgotten discussion.

I begin with the common ground among Churches of Christ (represented by the papers listed above) that distinguished them from the more progressive among the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). There are at least two areas in which the editors of these papers stood united against the “digressives.”

First, they all agreed that women should not be “public teachers” in the “public assemly” of the church or exercise ruling authority in the church such as belongs to the elders of the congregation (some, like Lipscomb, did not like the idea of “ruling authority,” but still objected to women functioning as shepherds in a congregation).  While arguing that women are not totally silenced in the assemblies by the New Testament, J. C. Frazee in the Octographic Review acknowledges that “we understand that they are not permitted to teach (usurp authority), taking the oversight of the Church, as officals (elders, bishops, etc.)” (OR, 1904, 2).  Some, like Theodore DeLong, argued that public teaching was the only thing denied a woman in the public assembly:  “Is there any other good thing that women are commanded not to do except teach in public?” (CLW, 1905, 2). More specifically, James A. Harding argued that “the speaking that is forbidden in the church is that in which the woman becomes a leader, one in authority” and the reason it is forbidden is because “God made man to be the leader, the ruler, and the woman to be his helpmeet” (CLW, 1904, 8).

It was one of the characteristics of the “digressives” or progressives that women sometimes functioned as preachers and evangelists. According to John T. Poe, it was “common among the digressives for women to preach, lecture and pray now as among any of the other sets. But,” he added, “it must not be so in the church of Christ” (FF, 1901, 12). This became an identifiable marker that distinguished the Christian Church (“digressives”), though not even all or most of their congregations, from the Churches of Christ. Indeed, this point (“woman is not to usurp authority, is to keep silence in the church”) is so plain, according to Lipscomb, that he did “not see why the teaching that Jesus is the Son of God may not be set aside by the same rule and reasoning” that this “teaching is set aside” (GA, 1897, 356). [Lipscomb's article was reprinted in the Firm Foundation.]

Second, they all agreed that women should not participate in the organization, leadership and function of various ecclesiastical societies or any activist society (e.g., the temperance movement).

At one level this was directed against the “digressives” who encouraged women to organize local societies.  “Dear sisters,”  wrote William Wise in the Firm Foundation, “do not suffer yourselves to be organized into women’s aid societies. Do all your work in the Lord’s house–His church” (FF, 1904, 3).  Such participation is divisive because God has not authorized such societies.  Thus, “women who build societies and become presidents and public leaders,” according E. G. Sewell,  ”bring troubles, bring wounds and heartaches among brethren, cause division and strife in churches and throw a blight over Christian unity wherever they prevail” (GA, 1897, 469).  [Sewell's article was reprinted in the Firm Foundation.]  The standard warning, voiced by Wise, was: “Don’t let any digressive click organize you into their societies” (FF,  1901, 2).

At another level this was directed toward any activism by women outside the home or church. The public sphere was not accessible to woman as determined by God’s created order, according to the argument. This perspective was strongly embedded within the Tennessee Tradition flowing out of the teaching of David Lipscomb and James A. Harding.  I will begin my next post elaborating this position and how it shaped discussion among Churches of Christ.

More to come….

References

Theodore DeLong, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 45 (7 November 1905) 2.

J. C. Frazee, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 47 (5 July 1904) 2.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8-9.

David Lipscomb, “The Church of Christ and the ‘Disciples of Christ,” Gospel Advocate 49 (18 July 1907) 450.

David Lipscomb, “The Churches Across the Mountains,” Gospel Advocate 39 (7 January 1897) 4.

David Lipscomb, “Women in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (10 June 1897) 356.

David Lipsomb, “Women in the Church,” Firm Foundation 13 (13 July 1897) 2.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901), 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (29 July 1897) 469.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Firm Foundation 13 (24 August 1897) 1.

William Wise, “Woman,” Firm Foundation 16 (2 April 1901) 2.

William Wise, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Firm Foundation 21 (3 May 1904) 3.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) II

My previous post provided the common ground upon which Churches of Christ distinguished themselves from the “digressives” in the first decade of the 20th century regarding “women’s work in the church.” The editors of the major journals among Churches of Christ were agreed that (1) women are not permitted to preach the word publicly (as evangelists in the field or speakers in the assembly), (2) women are not permitted to exercise ruling authority over the church as elders or bishops, and (3) women should avoid participation in the various societies associated with the progressives.

Some, primarily those associated with the Tennessee Tradition (e.g., David Lipscomb and James A. Harding), grounded their conclusions in a broad understanding of the role of women in society. They believed that women were forbidden any kind of public leadership whether in the home, church or society. Consequently, not only should they not speak publicly in the worshipping assembly, they should not speak publicly anywhere.  Not only should they not function as elders in the church, they should not become business leaders, presidents, or school teachers. Some, like R. C. Bell, believed that they should not even publish in the papers. After all, “if it is a shame for a woman to be a public speaker, why is it not a shame for her to be a public writer?” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777). Consequently, they should not lead in church or society; they should not lead, for example, temperance societies or become involved in any kind of social activism in a leadership capacity.

Elisha G. Sewell, co-editor of the Gospel Advocate, argued this point in several 1897 articles. Based on Genesis 3:16, Sewell believed that (GA, 1897, 432):

From the time that sin entered into the world, and entered through woman, she has been placed in a retiring, dependent, and quiet position, and never has been put forward as a leader among men in any public capacity from the garden of Eden till now…This seems to have been a general decree for all time, for God has never varied from it an any age or dispensation….’Thy desire shall be to thy husband,’ is indicative of dependence—not in any slavish sense, but in the sense that she is to look to man as a leader and protector, and, in certain measure, supporter and provider….God himself never changed this decree, and does not allow man to change it.

The woman’s sphere of influence is the home, not public life. This is where she finds her purity and peace rather than engaging in the “busy cares of life” (Sewell, GA, 1897, 461).

While editors Lipscomb, Sewell and Harding all shared this perspective, probably the clearest case was made by R. C. Bell who studied at the Nashville Bible School and taught with Harding at Potter Bible College.  He suggested that women are superior to men in emotion but inferior in will while equal in intellect.  These differences reflect the function God has given to males and females.  Excelling in emotion, woman is tailored for home life but lacking in “will power” she “is not fitted for public life” since “she lacks, by nature, the will power to combat successfully against the cruel, relentless business world.”  The fact that woman was created from man’s side indicates that “she is to walk through life by man’s side as his helpmeet and companion, sheltered and protected from the world, and the rough, degrading contact of public life, by his strong, overshadowing arm.”  Bell’s conclusion then is that (The Way, 1903, 776):

woman is not permitted to exercise dominion over man in any calling of life. When a woman gets her diploma to practice medicine, every Bible student knows that she is violating God’s holy law. When a woman secures a license to practice law, she is guilty of the same offense. When a woman mounts the lecture platform or steps into the pulpit or the public school room, she is disobeying God’s law and disobeying the promptings of her inner nature. When God gives his reason for woman’s subjection and quietness, he covers the whole ground and forbids her to work in any public capacity…She is not fitted to do anything publicly….Every public woman—lawyer, doctor, lecturer, preacher, teacher, clerk, sales girl and all—would then step from their post of public work into their father’s or husband’s home, where most of them prefer to be, and where God puts them….You are now no longer a public slave, but a companion and home-maker for man; you are now in the only place where your womanly influence has full play and power

These are strong words and they are so distant from our contemporary context that we might cringe or at least blush reading them.  But one may admire the consistency, I suppose. If God created woman to serve under man’s protecting arm and God determined that man should rule over the woman as a result of the Fall, then this would apply not only to home and church, but also to society.  “That man should rule is the ordinance of God that grows out of the natures of man and woman. “God put in him the ruling qualities,” according to James A. Harding. While women are “very much superior to men” in many ways, “her superiority is not in leadership” (CLW, 1904, 9). Woman was designed for domesticity and reigns as queen in the home as a symbol of purity and love. “Woman may be queen, but she can never be king” and if she “seek and gain public place and power, then all is lost” (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810).

This view was not only pushed by particular men but was also endorsed by some women. Effie S. Black, for example, scolded women who worked outside the home because “every woman who follows a profession or engages in a business makes it more difficult for some man to  provide the necessities for an invalid wife, an aged mother, helpless children, or whoever may be dependent upon him.”  Wives, of course, should work but in the home “for something better than gold,” that is, “better homes, nobler manhood and womanhood, higher ideals, purer thoughts, holier living, and all that can make our country–yes, and the whole world–better for having lived” (The Way, 1903,  397). 

Interestingly, this approach to the relationship of women to society and the church ran parallel with a strong cultural movement in the United States, particularly in New England and the South. It was called the “Cult of True Womanhood” or the “Cult of Domesticity.” This movement idealized women as the true embodiment of “piety, purity, submissiveness and domesticity.” Such idealization excluded women from public life but honored their influence in the home (See, for example, Smith, CLW,  1906, 2-3). This perspective was pervasive until the “New Woman” movement appeared in the late 19th century pressing for the vote and a larger role in public life.

The clash of cultural movements is reflected, for example, by John T. Poe (a native Tennessean who moved to Texas) when he noted that “since woman took her hand from the cradle and grabbed at the ballot box a few years ago, her course has been away from her God given path and mission into paths of her own blazing out, and as a consequence the world is growing worse.”  Poe insisted that “God made women as helpmeets for man. Her place is at home” and not in public speaking. “If God had intended for women” for public speaking, “He would have given them a voice adapted to public speaking.” As it is now, her “squeaky voice, weak lungs and generally weak mental ability” disqualify her (FF, 1901, 2).

Cultures were in conflict.   The editors of the Tennessee Tradition had grown up and ministered in the cultural atmosphere of “True Womanhood.” But now a new cultural movement was rising which would lead to female suffrage, political leaders, and business women.  This cultural shift was terra incognita, and the Tennessee Tradition was wholly opposed to it.

But that was not true of everyone within Churches of Christ at the turn of the 20th century.

More to come…..

 
References

R. C. Bell, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (6 August 1903) 775-777.

Effie S. Black, “Whould Wives Work?” The Way 4 (19 February 1903) 397.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8-9.

Henry Hawley, “Woman and Her Work,” The Way 5 (20 August 1903)  810.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901) 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “What is Woman’s Work in the Church (Again)?” Gospel Advocate 39 (22 July 1897) 432.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (29 July 1897) 469.

F. W. Smith, “The Glory of  True Womanhood: A Sermon Delivered by F. W. Smith to Graduates of the Horse Cave High School,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (1 May 1906) 2-3.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) III

In my next post I will turn my attention to “privilege,” but in this one I dig deeper into the argument for silence.

The Tennessee Tradition regarded public silence as godly submission on the part of faithful women. Given the Tennessee understanding that women were inferior to men in terms of leadership capacity and excluded from any ”public” life as outlined in my previous post, it is not surprising to see the New Testament construed in a way that fits that presupposition. When seeking to inductively collect and harmonize the New Testament’s teaching on “woman’s work,” the Tennessee Tradition concluded that the most significant distinction was public versus private. Women “must pray and teach, but not publicly” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 1046).

Priscilla taught Apollos with Aquilla. Phillip’s daughters prophesied. Corinthian women prayed and prophesied. “Women announced the resurrection to the eleven” and the Samaritan woman “proclaimed” Jesus “as the Christ to the people of her city.” “The fact that,” Harding continued, “women in the apostolic age prophesied (spoke by inspiration) makes it clear to my mind that women who know God’s Word now should teach it.” But this “by no means necessarily implies that she taught in the public meetings of the church” (Harding, CLW,1904, 8).

The discerning principle is not whether a woman may teach or not teach, or pray or not pray. Rather, it is the sphere in which she teaches or prays, and the sphere determines the nature of the leadership involved. Her sphere is the home rather than the “great assembly.” Since God created man as “the leader, the ruler,” when a woman “assumes the leadership” through prayer or teaching in the public sphere as she “directs and controls” the “thoughts” of others she then “takes a place for which she was not made” (Harding, CLW, 1904, 8). That sphere belongs to men whereas woman was given “the humbler, better place and more difficult work,” that is, the domestic life (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810). “Her place,” Poe wrote, “is at home to guide the house [and] rear the children” (Poe, FF, 1901, 2). This principle is rooted in Creation and illustrated by the Fall. Eve “wrecked things when she took the leadership in Eden” (Harding, The Way, 1902, 393).

The home, however, is a place where women may teach and pray, and she may teach even her own husband—“even though he be a very great man”—as well as her children. When, for example, Priscilla studied the Scriptures with Apollos, “no leadership was assumed;” but rather “there was a social home-circle talk about the things of the kingdom of God” (Harding, CLW, 1904, 8). In another place, Harding offers a further characterization of this kind of “home” environment. When there are “private meetings of a social nature, where no organization is thought of, no leaders appointed, a Christian woman may teach” men, women or children and pray with them. “But when the meeting is organized, called to order, and leaders are appointed, those leaders should be men always” (Harding, CLW,1906, 8). Bell—one of Harding’s prize students—summarizes it this way: a woman “can teach anybody anywhere except in cases where publicity is connected with it” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777).

But may she teach in a “mixed” Bible class on the first day of the week? Is that connected to “publicity;” is it public? Both Bell and Harding believed that a woman may read Scripture (when asked), answer questions (when asked), ask questions, and thereby “teach” in a Bible class on Sunday when to do any of these in the public assembly would be sinful (Harding, The Way, 1902, 393; Bell, The Way, 1903, 777). Consequently, the assembly is “public” in a way that the Bible class is not. The distinction is important for them because “teaching is not denied her.” She may teach in a Bible class through reading, questioning and answering questions. What is forbidden is “publicity or exercising dominion” over men. Consequently, she may answer or ask questions in a Bible class when she does so “in a quiet, submissive way, being in subjection to the public leader” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777).  

Interestingly and at the same time raising the question of consistency, the Bible class has a “public leader” even though it is not “public” in the same way as the assembly, according to Bell, but when a woman participates in the class she does not engage in “publicity” which presumably means the only “publicity” in a Bible class is located in the “public leader” or appointed teacher. Though a woman may teach other women and children in a Bible class as the lead teacher (Harding, The Way, 1903, 417), she is not permitted to teach men as the “public teacher” because this would involve a public exercise of authority over men. Yet, a woman is able to audibly participate in a class as a student (read, ask questions and answer questions) while she is not permitted to audibly participate at all in the public assembly. It appears that the definition of “publicity” shifted somewhat between the assembly and the Bible class.

Lipscomb and Sewell, however, do not seem to have a problem with a woman teaching a Bible class including men if they teach in a “quiet, modest, womanly way” (Questions Answered, 736).  Sewell gives the example of the Tenth Street Church in Nashville (Questions Answered, 741-2): 

“after singing, the reading of the lession, and prayer, the different classes take their places in different parts of the house, so that each class is entirely to itself as a class, and the lesson is gone over by each class, and the teacher, just as if each class were in a house to itself. Some of these classes are taught by sisters and some by brethren. But the sisters who teach these classes are as private in their work as if they were teaching at home…If churches can find enough competent brethren that will teach all the classes, that is all well; but that is seldom the case; and when that fails and women teach classes, we think that allright also.”

And, of course, “when the hour nears its close, the class work is closed, and at eleven o’clock the church assembles in one body and the regular service begins. In this service not a woman says a word, except in singing” (Questions Answered, 741). Not even a sound, we might say, because 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 says women should be silent in the assembly when the whole church is gathered as one body.

But did not women audibly pray and prophesy in the Corinthian assembly? Harding argued that when 1 Corinthians 11 is read as a positive answer to that question it contradicts 1 Corinthians 14:34-35. Rather, Harding suggested that 1 Corinthians 11 applies to “any time or place” when women pray or teach (home, class or assembly) but that 1 Corinthians 14 regulates this general instruction with a specific prohibition against speaking in the public assembly. The point of 1 Corinthians 11 is a woman should always, whether in public or private, pray or teach “with her head covered” (Harding, CLW, 1906, 8). Harding, along with many others in the Tennessee Tradition, believed a covered head was a normative obligation for women whenever they prayed or taught (though some, like Lipscomb, thought long hair was a sufficient covering; but if the hair was not long, then the woman needed a further artificial covering–see Questions Answered, p. 706). 1 Corinthians 11 does not subvert 1 Corinthians 14. Instead, 1 Corinthians 14 regulates 1 Corinthians 11. This is confirmed, according to Harding and others who argued similarly, by 1 Timothy 2:8 where the prayer leader—the one who raises “uplifted hands”—is specifically designated as a male (Harding, ”Brother C. D. Moore,” CLW, 1907, 8).

The seriousness of this conclusion should not be underestimated. Paul’s prohibitions in 1 Timothy 2 and 1 Corinthians 14 were understood as “positive” instructions for the assembled, worshiping church. Below are some examples (emphasis mine).

 “The language is plain and positive” (Carr, CLW, 1905, 1).
“Paul’s language—plain and positive as it is…” (Elliott, CL, 1897, 2).
“[T]the Lord positively forbids it” (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810).
“[S]he will preach in the face of God’s positive command not to do it” (Poe, FF, 1901, 2).
“This decree is like the one in Eden: it is positive” (Sewell, GA, 1897, 432).

This language is overtly legal in nature. The Stone-Campbell Movement inherited the use of “positive” and “moral” descriptions of divine law from their English Reformed (Puritan) heritage. A “positive law”—a specific legal injunction regarding the worship assembly, for example—cannot be disregarded without dire consequences. “When God positively commands,” Harding writes, “we should meekly obey”(emphasis mine; “Brethren Faurott,” CLW, 1907, 8). For example, “positive law” prescribed the five acts of worship and those who add to (e.g., instrumental music) that number sin against God’s law. “Nothing in the Bible is more positively forbidden” than public speaking by women in the church. When women are permitted to speak (teach or pray) in the public assemblies, the positive injunction against such is violated and violaters fall into the same category as Nadab and Abihu (emphasis mine; Sewell, GA, 1897, 692).

Consequently, the consensus among Southern churches—in both Texas and Tennessee as represented by respected editors—was that this was a line in the sand just like instrumental music or baptism itself. “That women are not allowed to make speeches in the meetings of the churches,” Harding noted, “is just as plainly and strongly taught as that believers are to be baptized” (Harding, “Was Paul Mistaken,” 1907, 8). When congregations permit women to “lead the prayers, to speak and to exhort in the meetings of the church,” Harding did not believe “God’s law was ever more flagrantly violated than…at this point” (Harding, “Brethren Faurott,” 1907, 8). These differences were just cause for separation and distinction, that is, division.

My next post will articulate a different perspective–the “privilege” of women to publicly lead prayers, read Scripture and exhort the assembly. The defense of that “privilege” comes from a rather unexpected source(s) within Churches of Christ at the turn of the century.

More to come….

References: 

R. C. Bell, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (3 December 1903) 1046.

O. A. Carr, “Woman’s Work in the Church, What She Should Do in Public Worship. No. 3,” Christian Leader & the Way 19 (30 May 1905) 1.

J. Perry Elliott, “Queries,” Christian Leader 11 (5 January 1897) 2.

Harding, “Brethren Faurott, Sands and the Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (17  December 1907) 8.

Harding, “Bro. C. D. Moore, Sister Chloe’s Letter and the Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (29 October 1907) 8.

James A. Harding, “Questions and Answers,” The Way 4 (5 March 1903) 417.

James A. Harding, “Scraps,” The Way 3 (20 March 1902) 393.

James A. Harding, “Was Paul Mistaken, Or Did He Lie About It, or Are I Cor. 14:33-35 and I Tim. 2:8-13 Both True?” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (26 November 1907) 8.

James A. Harding, “Where and How Shall Women Speak and Pray?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (31 July 1906) 8.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8.

Henry H. Hawley, “Woman and Her Work,” The Way 5 (20 August 1903), 810.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901) 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “What May Women Do in the Church?” Gospel Advocate 39 (4 November 1897) 692.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) IV

The previous post stated the specific arguments for silence. This post presents the case for “privilege.”

In January 1904 the Christian Leader and The Way merged. Though a friendly merger, it was the union of a strong Tennessee paper with a Northern paper whose roots were shared by Daniel Sommer. This entailed some substantial difference at times (e.g., pacifism), including the “woman question.” The Christian Leader had a significant history of openness toward female participation in the assembly through reading Scripture, prayer and exhortation. In 1897, for example, Ben Atkins offered “a Scriptural call for women to resume Christian activity in the church, praying, speaking, exhorting, singing, teaching, as in the apostolic age in Corinth” (CL, 1897, 2).

Consequently, Harding immediately found himself in hot water with some readers when he quickly staked out his ground on the “woman question” as co-editor of the new Christian Leader & the Way (CLW, 1904, 8). W. J. Brown of Cloverdale, Indiana, for example, cautioned that “before we force upon the churches our narrow, ignorant interpretations of the Bible, we ought to go back and study the question again” (CLW, 1904, 5). Also, Harmon rebuked some writers (presumably Harding included) with some terse words: “Don’t forbid these women, as you have been doing” (CLW, 1904, 9).  And Foster, as if to let Harding know that Northerners did things a bit different on this question, wrote that “it is not counted immodest here, in these times, for a woman to speak or pray, even in the churches” and since “we find where they prophesied” in the New Testament, “why not now?” (CLW, 1904, 4). Further, Spayd asked the question directly:  “Why muzzle the women in the Church?” (CLW, 1904, 2).

Daniel Sommer, the leader of what is often regarded as the radical right wing of Churches of Christ at the turn of the century, defended the privileges of women in the assembly and in the work of the church (e.g., deaconesses; OR, 1897, 1). His article, “Woman’s Religious Duties and Privileges in Public,” summarizes his perspective in some detail (OR, 1901, 1). “Extremes beget extremes,” Sommer began. The extreme of women evangelists had begat the extreme of silencing women in the assembly. It had now become a hobby, in his opinion, for some Southern writers. He suggested a middle ground which had been the practice of churches in his experience for years. That practice extended the privilege of audible prayer to women as well as men. “Any reasoning which will prevent women from praying in public,” he contended, “will prevent her from communing and singing.” He thought it a woman’s privilege to “publicly read in audible tones a portion of Scripture” in the assembly as long as she did not comment, apply or enforce “its meaning” since she would thereby become a “public teacher” which 1 Timothy 2:12 forbids.  However, “it is a woman’s privilege to teach a class in a meeting house” since the class is not the publicly assembled congregation. Further, since exhortation and teaching are different, even during the assembly, “if a sister in good standing wishes to arise in a congregation and offer an exhortation it is her privilege to do so.” A woman’s privilege, then, includes audible prayer in the assembly, public reading of Scripture in the assembly, public exhortation of the assembly, and teaching a Bible class of men, women and/or children.

Within the Sommer tradition the phrase “rights, privileges and duties” was almost a mantra that sought to impress readers with the sanctity of the female voice in the assembly. These universal “privileges,” according to J. C. Glover, were “singing, praying, exhorting and teaching one another, giving thanks, breaking break, and laying by in store as the Lord has prospered” on the first day of the week, and “no local legislation” should “interfere with these duties in the Lord” (CLW, 1906, 4) Frazee stressed that the “rights, privileges, and duties pertaining to the worship” belong to all and everyone has the “same rights and privileges to participate as far as their ability will permit.” While this does not include teaching that takes the “oversight of the Church,” it does include “speaking unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort” which was the function of prophecy in 1 Corinthians 14 (OR, 1904, 2). 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 was contextualized in several different ways, including restricting the forbidden speech to tongue-speaking (Black, CLW, 1907, 4), interpreting “your women” as the wives of the prophets (Williams, The Way, 1903, 1045), or recognizing the restriction as applicable to disorderly women (Atkins, CL, 1897, 2).

While some within the Sommer tradition agreed with Harding and others that “teaching and usurping authority over the man” were forbidden “even in the social family relation,” they nevertheless strongly contended that audible participation in the assembly “was a right—privilege—or duty” (Glover, CLW, 1906, 4). There was, among some, a shared cultural assumption about the exclusion of women from public society. But this did not undermine female participation in the assembly because the Church was different from human society. Whereas society is governed by the principles inherent in the “family of man” where man is the head of the woman, in the “family of God woman takes her place by the side of man” and fully participates in the assembly. Since the assembly is a “meeting of the family of God,” where “there is neither male nor female,” everyone—both male and female—should “admonish one another” as per Romans 15:14. When “the whole church is come together,” women are authorized and encouraged “to speak to the edification, exhortation and comfort of the church” (Cameron, OR, 1905, 2).

References

Ben Atkins, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader 11 (2 February 1897) 2.

Charles S. Black, “That Awful Woman Question?” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (19 November 1907) 4.
 
W. J. Brown, “Notes of Passing Interest,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (16 August 1904) 5.

W. D. Cameron, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 48 (11 April 1905) 2.

W. W. Foster, “Twelve Women and Two Men,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (18 February 1904) 4.

J. C. Frazee, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 47 (5 July 1904) 2.

J. C. Glover, “Questions on the Woman Question Answered,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (19 June 1906) 4.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8.

F. U. Harmon, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (6 September 1904) 9.

Daniel Sommer, “Church Government. Number Two,” Octographic Review 40 (19 October 1897) 1.

Daniel Sommer, “Woman’s Religious Duties and Privileges in Public,” Octographic Review 34 (20 August 1901) 1.

L. W. Spayd, “Why Muzzle the Women in Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (17 May 1904) 2.

E. G. Williams, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (3 December 1903) 1045.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) V

This is my last post on the historical situation of women in the assemblies of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907.  You may access the whole series from my serial page.

The Texas Tradition

While the mid and deep South seemed united in the Tennessee perspective, Texas reflected some considerable diversity, even among conservatives who opposed “digression.” J. W. Chism—a leader in the Texas Tradition throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries (Foy E. Wallace, Jr. as well as R. L. Whiteside were two of his pallbearers at his 1935 funeral)—contended, for example, that “Paul expressly” approved audible female participation in the assembly through prayer and prophesy in 1 Corinthians 11. While a woman may not “take the field as an evangelist, nor any other work of authority,” she may “in a subordinate place…sing, pray and prophesy, and that, too, in the assembly” (FF, 1897, 3).  Chism challenged the Gospel Advocate on the question. He interpreted 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 as a prohibition against disruptive women who interrupted the assembly with their questions. Women, husband permitting, are “at liberty to speak or instruct in the assembly” (GA, 1903, 450).

Another leader in the Texas Tradition, the co-author of the series of books entitled Sound Doctrine with R. L. Whiteside, was C. R. Nichol.  His book God’s Woman created quite a stir in 1938.  Though outside the time frame of this series, C. R. Nichol is an especially important representative of the Texas Tradition. Like Chism, he believed that 1 Corinthians 14 only prohibited those who interrupted prophets with their interrogatories (p. 137) and women did audibly pray and prophesy in the public assembly with covered heads in Corinth (p. 124).  In fact, Nichol explicitly rejects “publicity” as the key hermeneutical criterion since there is no prohibition against the female voice “on the ground that it is public” (p. 123; cf. p. 149). Nichol’s position was consistent with Daniel Sommer’s, including the promotion of deaconnesses (pp. 159-166) and female Bible class teachers even when men are present (pp. 153-54). Despite his stellar reputation among conservatives, he was attacked by both John T. Lewis (Tennessean) and Foy E. Wallace, Jr. (Texan) for these views.

Another interesting window into the Texas Tradition comes through the public disagreemnt between Joe S. Warlick and his wife, Lucy, in the Gospel Guide which Grasham highlighted in his 1999 article “The Role of Women in the American Restoration Movement” (Restoration Quarterly 41.4 [1999] 211-240, esp. 223-225). Though outside the dates for this series, their discussion in 1920 was symptomatic of a continuing move to exclude the female voice in the assembly from the Texas Tradition (and Churches of Christ as a whole). While Mr. Warlick contended that women should be silent in the assemblies, Mrs. Warlick believed women should be permitted to speak to men for “edification, exhortation and comfort” just as women prophesied in the Corinthian assembly. Though Mr. Warlick in 1927 adopted his wife’s position that a woman may speak in “her naturally modest way in any assembly of the saints where rule and authority are not to be administered,” he still contented that leading “public prayer” was not her privilege.  “I have never heard a Christian woman lead a public prayer,” he wrote, “and I hope I never shall.”

One eighty year old father in the faith, William Wise, pleaded for the continued practice of women praying: “I would go farther to hear a devoted sister pray than I would to hear a hired preacher or digressive preacher preach” (FF, 1904, 3). He defended his position with 1 Timothy 2:8-10 where the phrase “in like manner” includes, according to Wise, women in the praying described.

But this was far from unanimous among Texas conservatives (George, FF,1897, 1), and even some, like the editor of the Firm Foundation, objected to appointed deaconesses (Savage, FF, 1903, 4). While Texas as a whole ultimately came to similar conclusions as the Tennessee Tradition regarding female participation in the assembly, the Texas situation was complex than Tennessee and Indiana. It was fluid rather than stable. The Texas Tradition finally closed ranks with the Tennesse Tradition, and the more conservative and now traditional (silence in the assembly except for singing and baptismal confessions) position became the norm in Churches of Christ in the mid-20th century.

Conclusion

The Tennessee Tradition was radically and deeply shaped by the “Cult of True Womanhood” that reigned in the deep South many years past the Civil War. This cultural atmosphere influenced how they read the Bible. It was their fundamental cultural assumption about female inferiority (e.g., will power) that grounded their understanding of male leadership. It seems that this cultural undercurrent did not allow—it was not within their worldview—alternative understandings of the two restrictive texts in the New Testament to get a hearing. The deep cultural mold in which the Tennessee Tradition was forged on the “woman question” was as at least as substantial as any cultural phenomenon that the heirs of this perspective insist inspire contemporary discussions. The “Cult of True Womanhood” in the late 19th century shaped the perspective of Tennessee Tradition as deeply and as radically as any “Feminist” cultural agenda shaped gender debates in the late 20th century. Of course, the truth is that we are all, both past and present interpreters of Scripture, deeply impacted by our cultural context. The value of looking back into this interpretative history is to remind us that they were as culturally situated as we are. This ought to engender humility.

The Tennessee Tradition ultimately won the day, even though it moderated its assault on women in society so that one hears little opposition to female doctors, lawyers and CEOs today. In essence, and quite effectively, the Tennessee Tradition silenced the female voice in the public assemblies of Churches of Christ. Sharing a similar legal hermeneutic that stressed decontextualized positive injunctions/prohibitions and a similar fundamentalist idealization of domesticity, the Texas and Tennessee Traditions converged in the 1910s-1940s on a common front to exclude the female voice from the assembly except for singing and baptismal confessions of faith.  The openness that characterized the northern Sommer-influenced congregations died the death of marginalization as the Southern Churches of Christ overwhelmed them in number, influence and institutional power. Sommer’s position, though largely forgotten except by a few historians, has been unwittingly renewed in some quarters of Churches of Christ in the late 20^th century as a via media between the traditional and egalitarian positions.

References

J. W. Chism, “The Church of God—Her Purposes and How Accomplished—The Woman in the Assembly,” Firm Foundation 13 (7 September 1897) 3.

A. M. George, “That Vexed Question,” Firm Foundation 13 (21 September 1897) 1.

John T. Lewis, “There is Death in the Pot,” Bible Banner 1 (July 1939) 12.

George Savage, “Deaconesses,” Firm Foundation 19 (27 October 1903) 4.

Foy E. Wallace, Jr., “God’s Women Gather,” Bible Banner 2 (November 1939) 15.

Mrs. Joe S. (Lucy) Warlick, “May Women Teach? When? Where?” Gospel Guide 8 (August 1923) 2.

Mrs. Joe S. (Lucy) Warlick, “The Things ‘In Part’ Considered and the Restriction upon Women,” Gospel Guide 11 (May 1926) 3.

Joe S. Warlick, “Editorial,” Gospel Guide 12 (May 1927) 4.

Joe S. Warlick, “Let Your Women Keep Silent in the Churches,” Gospel Guide 5 (August 1920) 2.

William Wise, “Woman’s Work in the  Church,” Firm Foundation 20 (3 May 1904) 3.

Unceasing Prayer: Parable of the Persistent Widow

I have uploaded one of my early articles in Restoration Quarterly to my Academic Page.  The article is a fairly technical discussion of Luke 18:1-8, the Parable of the Unjust Judge or the Parable of the Persistent Widow.  It is available here.

At the heart of the parable is a comparsion between God and the judge, and a comparsion between the disciples and the widow.  If an unjust judge will give a widow what she desires because she wears him out with her persistent pleas, surely God will hear the cries of his people.  If a widow will persistently go before a unjust judge for vindication, surely disciples should cry out to God without ceasing and refuse to giving up praying.

The question mark in this relationship is not whether God will vindicate his elect for surely he will, but the question mark is whether the Son of Man, when he returns, will find “faith” (a people who continually pray) on the earth?

Note: Over the next few weeks or months, I will return to my “first love” (the reason I started this blog) project of attempting to make class materials, previously published materials, etc. available on my blog. One project will take me some time…my dissertation but there is, I’m sure, no rush for that.

Privilege or Silence? Where Did the Articles Go?

They did not disappear into cyberspace. Nor were they removed due to some sinister pressure.

I have removed them out of respect for a potential publisher of the material. The series will be published in a journal this Fall. After publication, I will make the articles available once again.

I appreciate the interest and the articles will reappear in the near future.

John Mark

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice I

Discipled in Family

Text: Luke 2:41-52

Jesus was an apprentice. Like F(f)ather, like son.

He apprenticed with his heavenly Father. He learned obedience by the things which he suffered (Hebrews 5:8-9). He taught and did only what he heard his Father teach and what he saw his Father do (John 5:19). He was the Father’s disciple. Jesus was discipled by the presence of the Holy Spirit in his life as a gift from his Father.

He apprenticed with his earthly (step)father as a carpenter. But he learned much more from his family than being a carpenter. They were devout believers. Jesus participated in the faith traditions of his family. According to the custom, he was circumcised on the eighth day (Luke 2:27).  Every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Passover. According to the custom, the family journeyed to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover when Jesus was twelve (Luke 2:42). Luke stresses the devout and habitual nature of the family’s faith practice.

Jesus was discipled in the faith of his father and mother, the faith of Israel. He was an obedient son to both his earthly parents and his heavenly father.

His training in the faith is seen by his keen interest in what was taught at the temple. When his parents found him, he was sitting with the teachers—listening, asking questions, and answering questions. He was fully engaged in a search, a yearning to know the God whom he recognized as Father. He did not isolate or withdraw, but sought out the teachers of the law to learn more. This was not a grandiose display of his knowledge to create shock and awe in others, but a devout and healthy fascination with his faith and his God.

Jesus is a human being. He grows up in a family that shapes his faith, customs and understanding. He learned as we all learn, and he grew up as a human being. It was “on-the-job-training” for the Incarnate Word.

Jesus, as human being, was not omniscient. Neither was his knowledge downloaded upon request as if he were Trinity in the Matrix needing to know how to fly a helicopter. His knowledge came like others—through learning, growth, discipling. He grew in his relationship with God and humanity.

As a human being, Jesus “grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God” and the people.

Jesus was apprenticed in his vocation as the Messiah by the Father. He was apprenticed as a child by his parents. He was also apprenticed by the realities of human life in a fallen world—he learned what it was like to be human, depend on God and live in a community of faith.

Jesus was a disciple, too.  We learn how to be disciples from how he was discipled, how he pursued discipleship, and how he modeled discipleship for his disciples.  We, as disciples of Jesus, follow Jesus, the disciple.

Small Group Questions

1. Do you ever imagine Jesus as a little boy? Where does your imagination take you? What is his relationship with his Dad, Mom and siblings like?
2. What does this text tell us about his family relationship? How did this shape his faith development? What does this text reveal about Jesus’ character and devotion?
3. What are some of your family faith traditions that identify you and draw you together as a family in the Lord?
4. Was Jesus an apprentice in his family? What value do you see in thinking about Jesus as an apprentice? What dangers do you see?

Note: This is the first of a series of seven lessons at Woodmont on which Dean Barham, pulpit minister of the Woodmont Hills Family of God, and John Mark Hicks  are collaborating.  It involves homily, small group material and Bible class material. You can hear the sermons on the Woodmont podcast when they become available.  The series begins the first Sunday in February.

Rebaptism: The Real Rub

Throughout 2008 I spent part of my time reading through the major journals of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907: Gospel Advocate, Firm Foundation, Christian Leader, Octographic Review, The Way, and Christian Leader & the Way.  I have shared some of my “findings” on this blog and will do more in the future.

Other than the increasing distance between the Christian Church and Churches of Christ (ranging on issues from instrumental music and missionary societies to ecumenical federation with denominational bodies and higher criticism), the most discussed question among Churches of Christ in the papers was rebaptism. I counted over 200 articles–not including notices of debates, books and pamphlets about the subject–from 1897-1907.

The specific question was whether Baptists (or other immersed persons) should be reimmersed in order to receive the “right hand of fellowship” for entrance into a congregation of the Church of Christ. On the one hand, David Lipscomb, James A. Harding, E. G. Sewell, J. C. McQuiddy, Daniel Sommer, and others (including all the editors of the Gospel Advocate) argued that anyone immersed upon a confession of faith in Jesus is a Christian. On the other hand, Austin McGary, J. D. Tant, J. W. Durst, and others (including all the editors of the Firm Foundation) argued that only those immersed with a specific knowledge their baptism was the appointed means of salvation are Christian. This is the most well known difference, perhaps, between the Tennessee and Texas Traditions within Churches of Christ.

This difference generated considerable friction. But where is the rub? Why was it contested so vehemently and passionately? What was at stake? Austin McGary, co-editor of the Firm Foundation, gives us a  feel for how critical this debate was (1898, 284–emphasis mine):

We cheerfully admit that neither the society nor the organ has anything to do with this vile attack upon us by the Advocate. But the trouble between us is traceable to the very same presumptuous spirit that brings the society and the organ into the work and worship of the church. Bros. Lipscomb, Harding and their wicked confederates in this attack upon us claim to speak where the Bible speaks and to be silent where the Bible is silent. But, like Homon and his confederates in advocating the society and organ, they speak where the Bible does not speak, and are silent where the Bible does not speak, in their defense of Baptist baptism….these brethren are tenfold more palpably culpable in their effort to defend their practice of receiving Baptists on their baptism, because, in holding to this practice, they prove that they are willfully going beyond the authority of the Lord.

McGary believed the root was “going beyond the authority of the Lord” on the basic question of who is a Christian. This, to him, was more liberal, damaging and insidious than the society and the organ. McGary thought this would ultimately lead to a “divided brotherhood” just like the instrument and society (FF, 1901, 8).  J. D. Tant, however, was more optimistic after a visit to Nashville and thought that in “fifteen years” churches would no longer receive members on their “sectarian baptism” because “the gospel,” he wrote, was having a ”>leavening influence in Tennessee” (FF, 1899, 23). Tant assessed the trend correctly, though it took much longer than fifteen years.

The “rub” for the Texans was that it expanded the borders of the kingdom beyond those identified with the Churches of Christ. The critical issue was that congregations were receiving unsaved people into their fellowship. This was, as Tant revealed, a gospel issue. At root the Gospel Advocate “was teaching other ways that sinners may be forgiven and enter the kingdom of Christ” (McGary, FF, 1901, 8).

The “rub” for the Tennesseans was the sectarian attitude that undermined the obedient faith of others. Lipscomb stressed that simple obedience to Jesus through faith was all the motive required for effectual baptism (see his “What Constitutes Acceptable Obedience“). To require more is to undermine simple obedience itself because it is no longer faith but education, knowledge and doctrinal precision that determines acceptable obedience. Such a spiral ultimately destroys assurance because when knowledge becomes the ground rather than faith one can never be sure they know enough about their obedience for their obedience to be accepted. A faith in Jesus that moves one to obedience is sufficient faith no matter what else they know or don’t know or even falsely believe about their baptism.

The other part of the “rub” is the sectarianism itself.  According to Daniel Sommer, rebaptists “adopt the sectarian plan of sitting in judgment on the fitness of persons for baptism” (OR, 1904, 3) According to the Tennessee tradition, the kingdom is broader than those who were immersed for the specific purpose of the remission of sins (or to be saved) and they did not believe that all those outside the borders of the “Churches of Christ” were lost (see Harding’s comments). This gracious attitude toward those who walk sincerely among the denominations is what the editors of the Firm Foundation feared because it enlarged the kingdom beyond the borders of their vision of the “Church of Christ.”

The rebaptism controversy was, I think, a struggle within Churches of Christ about the borders of the kingdom of God. It was part of movement toward more pronounced exclusivism within Churches of Christ. While the Tennessee perspective (which was also the view of Alexander Campbell, J. W. McGarvey and Daniel Sommer, which means it is not simply a Tennessee perspective) lost the struggle on this point, it did not die but remained alive in various places among Churches of Christ (e.g., Harding College).  

References:

Austin McGary, “Editorial,” Firm Foundation 14 (13 September 1898 ) 284.

Austin McGary, “The Firm Foundation—Its Aims and Principles,” Firm Foundation 16 (8 January 1901) 8.

Daniel Sommer, “A Letter with Comments,” Octographic Review 47 (2 Feb 1904) 3.

J. D. Tant, “Too Many Papers,” Firm Foundatoin 15 (10 January 1899) 23.

Why Care About Church History or Historical Theology?

I have a vested interest in that question. Partly because I have a Ph.D. in Reformation and Post-Reformation historical theology, partly because I teach academic courses in historical theology, but mostly because I have found the study of historical theology illuminating, liberating and humbling.

Illuminating in the same way that studying my own family of origins shines light on my personal story. The more I understand about my experiences growing up, my own family’s history and the cultural context of those early experiences the more I understand myself. I begin to understand something of why I react at a gut level the way I do. As my unconscious becomes more conscious I am more aware of how many of my feelings and gut reactions are due to earlier experiences rather than reflective engagement with the present. In addition, the more I know about the stories of others, the more I understand them and thus appreciate their journey.

Historical theology can illuminate our theological past; it can describe our theological family of origins. This is a necessary part of developing theological self-understanding. Just as we cannot understand ourselves psychologically without some sense of our family’s history, neither can we understand our own theological proclivities, reactions and preferences without some sense of historical orientation to the faith in which we grew up. It may very well be that the way we read Scripture, what we believe and how strongly we feel about something is more rooted in our history than it is Scripture. If we don’t know our own history–our theological ancestry, we are limited in our ability to understand ourselves as well as others.

Liberating in the same way that acknowleding my family’s past history or patterns enables me to transcend some of the natural pitfalls that are part of my story. Living in ignorance of my own history endangers me since I am unaware of how my lenses have been colored by my own experience or why I react to something so strongly when the present circumstances really do not warrant it. Our own personal stories are often blind to how our histories have shaped us.  Blinded, we are thus shackled by the darkness and come to believe that the way we see it is the only way to see it.

Historical theology can liberate us from the chains that bind us and blind us; it can discern the critical difference between embracing something because it is so familiar or comfortable and embracing something because we have authentically heard an alternative and reflectively chosen to believe what we find most truthful. Discernment involves some kind of historical consciousness since history helps us see alternatives. Without historical perspective we are bound to our own limited perceptions.

Humbling in the same way that recognizing how my father and mother pioneered my faith and life teaches me gratitude. Whatever I am and have become is, in part, due to them. They have taught me, trained me, and guided me. In turn, they were shaped by their parents, and thus so all the way down. I am neither the first nor the center of my family, but one part of its history. I owe more than I could ever give back.

Historical theology can illuminate us as we learn from students of Scripture and practioners of the faith in earlier ages; they teach us and we are rightly awed by their faith, devotion and thought. We would be the most arrogant of people to think that we have nothing to learn from those who read Scripture and worshipped God in the past. We do not have to reinvent the wheel, but rather humbly acknowledge the gifts God gave to his people in the past, enjoy the benefits of that grace left for us, and use that sacred deposit  in our pursuit of a mature faith.

I research, reflect on and teach historical theology because it illuminates my own journey in faith, liberates me from the chains of my own blindness, and humbles me before the gifts God has previously given to his people. Whether I’m reading Tertullian, Jacobus Arminius, John Wesley, Alexander Campbell, James A. Harding or Thomas B. Warren, I seek illuminating descriptions, liberating discernment and humbling instruction.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice II

Shaped in Solitude

Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from [being baptized in] the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil for forty days.    Luke 4:1-2a

Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went to an isolated place to pray.    Mark 1:35

One day soon afterward Jesus went up on a mountain to pray, and he prayed to God all night. At daybreak he called together all of his disciples and chose twelve of them to be his apostles.    Luke 6:12-13

Baptisms are a time for celebration and community. It is time to party. And we see some of that at the baptism of Jesus—God affirms Jesus’ belovedness. But then there is no party.  The Holy Spirit immediately leads Jesus…not to town, not to a palace, not to a party, but into the desert, the wilderness. Jesus is alone. The Holy Spirit must have thought, I presume, that there was something valuable about solitude.

Throughout his ministry Jesus returned to the desert, to the desolate place. He experienced something there that strengthened him and energized him. He found renewal in the desolate places. It is where he went when he felt pressed by the crowds, when he felt “busy.” It is where he went when he had to make a significant decision like choosing his apostles. It is where he went when he felt overwhelmed by his feelings like in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Sometimes we simply need to be alone. Even with his disciples, Jesus would separate himself from them. Sometimes it is important to be alone even when intimate, close friends are available.

Jesus was comfortable with himself and could be alone. His “alone time” was not loneliness, but solitude. Some people are lonely when they are alone—they are uncomfortable with themselves and they cling to others in needy desperation. Some people are too busy to be alone and even when they are alone they are easily distracted by the busy-ness of life.  Some people don’t want to be alone (certainly not silent) because they are afraid to face their true selves and consequently they need the distractions.

Being alone, however, is more than just being with oneself. Being alone is not loneliness when we find companionship with God in those times. It is not withdrawal in the sense of isolation but the pursuit of God through communion (prayer) for the sake of renewal or recreation.

When we are too busy to “recreate” with God, then life has distracted us from our true essence. When we are too uncomfortable with ourselves, then we have not faced the truth about ourselves in God’s presence. When we are lonely when alone, then we have not embraced the joy of solitude with God.

Jesus pursued God in that solitude. Some of Jesus’ vigils would be early morning, some would be all night. Sometimes something (or someone) is more important than sleep (yes, it is true!). Sometimes prayer was more important than sleep. Has it ever been for you? It was for Jesus.

Jesus found time for solitude. His discipleship began in the desert alone with God. His solitude—his companionship with God—fueled his ministry; it energized his other relationships. If he was discipled by solitude and apprenticed through solitude, perhaps…just perhaps…so should we.

When life is so busy that I am too tired to pray, too tired to sit quietly, too tired to seek God in solitude, then life is too busy. My fatigue has not only a physical but a spiritual root. I have no energy because I am not plugged into the one who is himself Energy. I have no spiritual power because I have no time for God—no time for just him. That is not only too busy, it is idolatry.

Note:  Part I is available here.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Do you think Jesus “needed” those times alone with the Father? What did he “need” and why did he “need” them?
2. Why is it so hard for human beings to be alone without being lonely? Why do we find it so difficult to be alone with God? What distracts us or repels us about spending time alone with God?
3. Do you remember those “all-nighters” you pulled at work or in college in order to get something done, to meet a deadline? Have you ever felt that way about prayer or solitude with God? If you remember an occasion, share it with others.
4. Share with the group what practices or routines you have found helpful? What helps you ignore the distractions and focus on being with God?

Texas and Tenneseee Respond to a Baptism Question

A classic example of the divide between the Texas Tradition and the Tennessee Tradition is the “rebaptism” issue.  I reproduce a particular “for instance” here without comment. In my next post, I will offer a few observations.  Of course, this is but one example of many exchanges which actually began in the 1883 Gospel Advocate when McGary began to push his rather novel understanding and then started the Firm Foundation in 1884 to promote them. So, this is some twenty-two years down the road and the difference was still a wide one.

“The Purpose of Baptism,” Firm Foundation 20.10 (7 May 1905) 4.

Question from J. Wesley Smith of Lynchburg, Tennessee: Bro. Lipscomb: Would I do wrong to be baptized again, since I have been baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, by a Methodist. I did not know at the time that baptism was for the remission of sins, but I did it to obey God. Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for remission of sins a test of fellowship.

David Lipscomb, editor of the Gospel Advocate: The leading design and purpose of God in dealing with man is to bring man and the world over which man rules into subjection to, and harmony with God. The highest and leading purpose and end of man should correspond to that of God in dealing with man, and be to submit to God as the Ruler of the universe. Only in this way can he secure permanent good to himself and the world. The purpose and desire to obey god is the highest and best pleasing to God of all the motives that lead his subjects to obey His laws. This purpose embraces and overshadows all other motives and ends and leads to an humble and trusting walk with God in all His ways, and to the enjoyment of all the blessings God has in store for those that love and serve Him. This desire to do the whole will of God, and so “fulfill all righteousness,” was the motive that led Jesus, the Christ, not only to be baptized, but this caused Him to leave heaven, come to earth and do and suffer all the will of God God to honor God and bless man.

The nearer we come to be moved by this motive that led Jesus in His word and mission, the better we please God in our service. There are different motives placed before man to lead him to serve God. The lowest is fear; the highest is love. “There is no fear in love; perfect love casteth out fear; because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not perfect in love.” 1 John 4:18. Fear, dread of torment, is a legitimate motive, but it is of the lowest order. It appeals to man in his fleshly state, before the spiritual man is cultivated and developed. But fear must lead to and be swallowed up in love. John warned the Jews to ‘flee the wrath to come.’ This was fear that ‘hathtorment’ dread of punishment. Jesus said: “If a man love Me, he will keep My words, and My Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make our abode withhim.” John 14:23. When they abide with a man, he has no torment; love has cast out dread and torment.

Under Judaism they were slaves, moved by fear; under Christ we are children, to be moved by love. “The heir (or son), as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all, but is under tutors and governors until the time appointed of the Father” (Gal. 4:1, 2), which means, under Christ, fear is a needed motive while we are children, but it must grow into love. One moved by the desire to do the will of God is moved by love. One led to be baptized because he desires to do the will of God is moved by love, the higher motive. That is the motive that moved Jesus to be baptized. It is the motive that best pleases God. For a man to ignore and reject a baptism because he was led to it by love for God and a desire to obey Him and displace it by a lower or less motive, begins in the spirit and ends in the flesh. He repudiates the higher service for that less pleasing to God.

This man says when he was baptized he did not understand baptism was for the remission of sins, but he did understand it was a command of God, and he wished to obey Him. I presume, too, he understood that obedience to God was necessary to salvation. If he understood this, he understood about as much of the matter as he understands now. If he understands baptism is for remission of sins in any other sense than that it is a condition–to prove man’s faith and willingness to obey God, he understands it incorrectly. It is a step that brings him into that condition in which God pardons sin and accepts him who believes as a child of God. I doubt if many who insist the understanding it is for remission of sins is essential to its validity understand it right. True it is that God never prescribed such belief as a condition of pardon.

Any baptism to please man displeases God. A baptism or any service to please any church or any persons displeases God. A sectarian baptism is sinful. But a baptism to obey God is not sectarian baptism; it is the baptism of Christ.

Many of the rebaptisms are performed to please those who demand it as a condition of fellowship. In Texas a few months since I learned of a woman who had been baptized and desired fellowship with the disciples. Some objected to here because she had not been baptized among the disciples. She had been baptized to obey God. What kind of baptism would it be? I fear many of them are to satisfy those who demand it. A person ought to have a clear conscience that in all the service he renders he does it from faith in God and to do His will. When he does what God commands from this motive, he may rest secure in the mercy of God.

George W. Savage, editor of the Firm Foundation: The above is given in full from the Advocate, for the Firm Foundation has no inclination to misrepresent old Bro. Lipscomb, for whom Chrisians have the highest regard as a teacher of God’s holy word. But just how a teacher in Israel can so far misrepresent the teachings and commandments of God is a question not well understood. Bro. Lipscomb and Bro. Harding continually call attention to the fact that men should be baptized “to obey God”–just as though God had made this a specific design of baptism. Where in all the realm of David Lipscomb’s reading did he read that baptism is “to obey God?” Why does he reject the expressed scriptural design and call it a fleshly act and substitute in its place a phrase as a design that God nowhere mentions in connection with baptism? Why dodge the issue with the general term “to obey God?” When these breethren say men are to be baptized “to obey God,” they admit that faith in the design, some design, is necessary to the validity of the act. And if faithin the design is necessary, why not place the design there revealed in the Bible and settle the question at once? Men do everything to obey God. We meet on the first day of the week to break bread. In this act we obey God. We do it to obey Him; yet there is a another design coupled directly with, and equally as spiritual as the general term, and that is “to show His deahtill He comes again.” To fulfill this design, Christians work and strive because God has placed it as a design for the act. Does Bro. Lipscomb contend that Christians can acceptably partake of these emblems in the absence of this design? Does it mean simply to take bread and drink wine before the world in an empty form without every effort to keep before them the central truth of the gospel? We are commanded to “take heed unto ourselves and unto the doctrine; continue in them. For in doing this thou shalt both save thyself and them that hear thee.” This is to obey God, too, but God couples with it two specific designs. One is “to save thyself;” the other is to save those who hear us. In doing this to obey God, we do it to save ourselves and them that hear us, for this is what we must do to obey God. In baptism men act “to obey God;” but in acting “to obey God,” they are baptized “for the remission of sins,” for this is obedience to God. The man who is not baptized for the remission of sins does not obey God, for God has told him to “be baptized for the remission of sins.” Acts 2:38. How could he be baptzied “to obey God” and at the same time refuse to do what God says? If you say it is because he is not taught, then it follows that he is not a proper subject for baptism, for Jesus said: “They shall all be taught of God.” John 6:44, 45. “Every one that hath heard and learned of the Father cometh unto Me.” It will not do to rest the excuse on the question of ignorance, and if the candidate is taught of God, not man, he understands the command to “be baptized for the remission of sins.” If he understands it and does not do it, he is not baptized “to obey God.” If he does not understand it and is baptized for some other purpose, he is not taught of God, and the theory of baptizing a man on the manufactured saying of “obeying God” falls by its own weight. Besides, there is not a sectarian baptism in Christendom but what says, it is “to obey God.”

Answering the question, “Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for the remission of sins a test of fellowship,” Bro. Lipscomb said: “True it is that  God never prescribed such a belief as a condition of pardon.” I now propose to put the two statements side by side and allow the man of faith to decide. The Holy Spirit says: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.” Acts 2:38. Bro. Lipscomb says: “True it is that God never prescribed such belief as a condition of pardon.” These two statements are far apart and can not both be right. One is from the God who created me; the other is from Bro. Lipscomb, who is a good but uninspired man. Which is right? I ask you, which is right? If Bro. Lipscomb is right, then men need not be baptized for the remission of sins to be saved. If the Bible language is right, man must be baptized for the remission of sins to be saved, and Bro. Lipscomb, however great he may be, is wrong.

Bro. Lipscomb in the above makes baptism for the remission of sins a fleshly act, because it is not prompted by love to God, and baptism to obey God a spiritual act because it is prompted by love to God. How did Bro. Lipscomb learn that the man who is baptized for the remission of sins, just as God tells him to do, does not love God, and the man who is baptized to obey God because his sins are pardoned does love God. This first does what God says, and the second does what He does not say. Which is the test of love and loyalty to God? Certainly the one that loves God and does what He tells him to do. Jesus said: “He that hath My commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me.” Again: “If a man love Me, he will deep My words.” And again: “He that loveth Me not, keepeth not My sayings.” John 14. From this we decide that the man who has the commands and keepeth them is the man that loves Jesus. And the man who does not keep them does not love Him. The test of loyalty and love to God is keeping His commandments. This is what Bro. Lipscomb calls the lowest motive and a dealing in the flesh. Jesus says this man is the man that loves him. Which is right? They can not both be right, for they differ. The man that has the command to be baptized for the remission of sins and does it is the man that loves Jesus. The man that has the same command and does not do it, but does something else “to obey God,” is the man that does not love Jesus, taking Jesus for just what He says. Friends, how can Bro. Lipscomb be right in this? What difference can exist between being baptized to obey God and being baptized to do what He says (for the remisson of sins)? How is it that baptism for the remission of sins because the man does it to keep God’s commands is of the lower order, while baptism because of the remission of sins, rejecting the direct command of God, is of the higher order of faith? The trouble with the man who asked this question is that he was not taught of God. He says so himself. He says he did not know that baptism is for the remission of sins. Not knowing this, he was not taught of God, and had the wrong faith, if he had any. Jesus said: “They shall all be taught of God.” He says he was not taught of God, and therefore, could not in this untaught state come to Christ. His faith was wrong; his baptism was no better than his faith. How could his obedience be right and his faithwrong? It may be true that many are baptized to please the preacher, but this does not answer the question. The question is, must God’s word be ignored, and must all our preaching stand for naught because some people who have been baptized because their sins are forgiven, or for no design at all, are satisfied with their baptism? Let God be true, though every man a liar, and if the truth makes us liars and reads us out of fellowship withGod, we ought not to blame the truth, but turn from our hardened teaching and bow in implicit obedience to Almighty God.

New Items

Tennesee and Texas:  Mac Ice has provided another illustration of the tension between Tennessee and Texas on his blog. While looking into the writings of C. E. W. Dorris, a founding elder of Nashville’s Central Church of Christ in 1925 as well as a student of both Lipscomb and Harding at the Nashville Bible School, he discovered several letters from Dorris to Cled Wallace, the older brother of Foy E. Wallace, Jr., in the Tennessee state archives. The topic is pacifism and the Christian’s relation to civil government–a hot topic, as you might imagine, during World War II. Dorris expresses the astounding opinion (for the time in which it was written) that the Wallace’s hawkish promotion of  the war “will do the cause of Christ much more harm than Bollism ever did” and that their “war baby” has “bad complexion” because it has been fed too much “Texas goat milk.”

Take a look at Mac’s post. Dorris, the author of Gospel Advocate commentaries on Mark and John, thought the warrior posture of the Bible Banner was much more dangerous than the premillennial teachings of R. H. Boll’s Word and Work. That is a good Tennessean (Lipscomb, Harding, Armstrong) sentiment. Thanks, Mac.

R. H. Boll, James A. Harding, and the Nashville Bible School:  I have uploaded to my Academic page the paper I presented at the 1998 Christian Scholar’s Conference at Pepperdine University entitled Boll, Harding, and Grace: The Nashville Bible School Tradition. Some of this material found its way into Kingdom Come, co-authored with Bobby Valentine, but much of it did not. I suggest that one of the differences between the Texas and Tennesee traditions is how they conceived the doctrine of grace. I place this point in context of both eschatology and pneumatology.

Lord’s Supper: I have posted my handouts for the May 1999 Austin Sermon Seminar entitled Preaching the Lord’s Meal on my General page. Much of this material ultimately made it into may book Come to the Table, but there are several sermon or homily suggestions in the handout that are not in the book.

I have long suggested that there is no gospel sermon that could not be linked with the Supper itself because the Table is the gospel in bread and wine. If it cannot be linked, then perhaps it is not a gospel sermon. By “linked” I do not mean a mere addendum as many “invitations” may appear, but rather the theme of any gospel sermon may be experienced in the Supper itself. The Word is then integrated with Act–the Word is experienced as bread and wine (or a table meal, preferably). The gospel message is given concrete form through the welcome, grace and community of the Table.

Patterns and Legalism: Commenting on an FHU Lecture

Cecil May, Jr.–Dean of the V. P. Black College of Biblical Studies at Faulkner University–is a kind, loving Christian gentlemen in the best sense of that term.  He was the first to ever interview me for an academic position just weeks before Sheila died as he was about to become President of Magnolia Bible College.  Later, in 1989, he did hire me as a faculty member at Magnolia.  And, then, he graciously released me from my contract in 1991 as we decided to move to Memphis upon learning of Joshua’s terminal genetic condition.

I have nothing but admiration, gratitude and love in my heart for Cecil May, Jr. And there is absolutely no “but….” I would add to that previous sentence.

I believe he falls in the G. C. Brewer “tradition” or style of thinking and ministry, and I know he would appreciate that categorization as he grew up at the Union Aveune Church of Christ in Memphis, TN. His teaching on grace follows Brewer’s (see my article grace and the Nashville Bible School), his openness to diversity on a range of questions from pragmatic methods to assembly practices (e.g., he doesn’t like singing during the Lord’s Supper but he does not believe it unscriptural) reflects Brewer’s own practical innovations (e.g., introducing multiple cups to the larger brotherhood) and views (e.g., special singing was not prohibited in the assembly in Brewer’s opinion), and his ecclesiological patternism follows Brewer’s own substantively reasoned perspectives (e.g., opposition to instrumental music).

I was reminded of my love for Cecil when he provided a clarification for Todd Deaver regarding Todd’s use of some of his past statements. Todd graciously published it on his website.

I have just listened to his recent lecture at Freed-Hardeman University entitled “Can Patterns Go To Far,” February 3, 2009 at 8:30am. While I would not agree with everything in his lecture (he briefly critiqued Come to the Table while surveying 1 Corinthians 11), I thought he modeled a kind but forthright gentleness in his presentation.  His conclusion was particularly on point and provided a broad common ground for discussion and agreement between (to use the terminology in play at Todd Deaver’s website) progressives and traditionalists.  Below is the last three minutes of his lecture (my own transcription).

To lovingly strive to please God by seeking his pattern in Scripture and to endeavor to live by it is not legalism. Legalism is the notion that we can save ourselves by our own doing either by being correct enough, believing all the right things or being good enough, doing all the right things.

I read something every once in a while that seems to imply that the writer is absolutely certain that he knows everything there is to know and therefore he’s going to be saved because he’s absolutely right about everything. I wish I were that certain about everything I know. I’ve already learned a few things I thought I knew that I realized I was wrong about. And I obviously think that whateverI think I know now is right or I wouldn’t think it anymore.  [Laughter] But I’ve had occasion to learn a few things later and point out somethings that bear on things that I’m not able to be absolutely certain.  Somebody has called me an agnostic over that. I prefer to say that I have a little bit of epistemological humility. Maybe that’s the same thing, but I like the second phrase a little bit better.

And I know that I’m not good enough. You may not know that I’m not good enough, but I know that I’m not good enough to be declared on that basis. We all have sinned. The good news of the gospel is that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scripture. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree.  With his stripes we are healed. We are not required to be perfectly right or perfectly righteous. We are required to be faithful.  We are saved by grace through faith.

The existence of divinely authorized patterns does not deny the gospel of grace. None of us is perfect either in our actions or in our standards. None of us, some of us are further along in the maturing process than others. Some of us live more correctly by the patterns than others do. Some have had more opportunities to learn than others.  But we’re not saved because we perfectly follow the patterns of Scripture. We are saved by the sacrifice of Christ through our faith in him.

However, patterns for life and conduct in the assembly and outside of it tell us how our Lord would have us to live. When we recognize, listen to this, and remember this if you don’t remember anything else that I said today, when we recognize that he has saved us by his death, when we believe the Scripture is his own revelation of himself and his will, and when in gratitude we search the Scriptures for his will for us in order to conform to it as we understand it and can, that’s not legalism. That’s faith working through love.  Thank you and God bless you.

Amen!

“Pattern,” as Cecil pointed out earlier in his lecture, is a slippery word.  I believe in patterns.  I certainly think Christ is our pattern and I believe the gospel regulates both our assemblies and life (see chapter seven in A Gathered People or some of my previous posts on the topic).  The devil is in the details, precise definitions and hermeneutical methods.  

But the larger point, and more important one, is where Cecil ended his lecture.  It is not legalism to seek patterns or to live by patterns. It is legalism to use those patterns in such a way that they undermine salvation by grace through faith.

Thank you, Cecil, for your life, magnamity and gracious spirit. 

May God continue to use you and bless you, my friend.

P.S. The substance of the lecture is also available in a PDF file here.

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: Alexander Campbell

It is not legalism to seek patterns or to live by patterns.    

It is legalism to use those patterns in such a way that they undermine salvation by grace through faith.

That is my summary of what I thought was the sentiment of Cecil May, Jr.’s concluding comments in his February 3, 2009 Freed-Hardeman Lectureship speech (see my previous post).

In this post and in a subsequent one, I will illustrate how this point has functioned in the thinking of two significant leaders in the Stone-Campbell Movement: Alexander Campbell and J. D. Thomas. Both were patternists (to differing degrees), but did not permit their patternism to trump the fundamental truth of the gospel: we are saved by grace through faith and not by works.

In the 1825 Christian Baptist Alexander Campbell inaugurated his famous series “A Restoration of the Ancient Order of Things.” He thereby introduced “restoration” as a key term in the self-understanding of the Stone-Campbell Movement.  A patternism of some sort inheres in the idea of “restoration” as Campbell used it.

Campbell assumed (1) “there is a divinely authorized order of Christian worship in Christian assemblies” and (2) “the acts of worship on the first day of the week in Christian assemblies is uniformly the same.” The “authorized order” is the “same acts of religious worship” that “are to be performed every first day in every assembly of disciples” (CB 3 [4 July 1825] 164-166). Campbell believed there is a pattern (his favorite word for it, in good Reformed fashion, was “order”). Subsequent essays explained the role of breaking bread (Lord’s Supper), fellowship (contribution), and praise (singing). In addition, the “ancient order” included topics such as congregational polity (bishops, deacons) and discipline.

Campbell’s series intended to identify particulars where the “church of the present day” needed to be brought up to the “standard of the New Testament.” To “restore the ancient order of things” is to “bring the disciples individually and collectively, to walk in the faith, and in the commandments of the Lord and Saviour, as presented in that blessed volume” (CB 3 [7 February 1825] 124-128).

It is clear that the “ancient order” is serious business for Campbell. It is a matter of obedience to the commands of the New Testament. The series was a call to the church of his day to conform to the “order” contained in the New Testament, that is, to conform to the apostolic pattern in the New Testament.

The interesting question, however, is whether he thought the “order” he discerned within the New Testament was a test of fellowship among believers. Did he believe that conformity to this order was necessary to salvation? Was it his intent to identify the marks of the church that defined the true church so that every other body of believers who did not conform to those marks was apostate and thus outside the fellowship of God?

This was implicitly raised in the Christian Baptist by one of Campbell’s critics. Spencer Clack, the editor of the Baptist Recorder, wondered whether Campbell’s “ancient order” functioned similarly to the written creeds to which Campbell mightily objected (CB 5 [6 August 1827] 359-360). Campbell’s response is illuminating. He maintained that his “ancient order” was no creed precisely because he had “never made them, hinted that they should be, or used them as a test of christian character or terms of christian communion” (CB 5 [3 September 1827] 369-370, emphasis mine–and thanks to Bobby Valentine who was the first to call my attention to this statement).

The pattern–the ancient order–was not a test of fellowship. It did not define Christian character. Campbell believed it was biblical and apostolic, but he did not believe obedience to it was a condition of salvation. The pattern was not a soteriological category, but rather an ecclesiological one.

If he did not identify these ecclesiological particulars as tests of fellowship, then what was the purpose of the series? He tells us. He believed that the restoration of the ancient order, though not necessary for fellowship and salvation, was “the perfection, happiness, and glory of the Christian community.” In other words, it was a means toward the unity of all believers. Restoration of the ancient order was not for the purpose determining true vs. apostate churches, but rather to set out a program upon which all believers might unite on the New Testament alone. If everyone would “discard from their faith and their practice every thing that is not found written in the New Testament of the Lord and Saviour, and to believe and practise whatever is there enjoined,” then “every thing is done which ought to be done” (CB 3 [7 March 1825] 133-136). He wanted to “unite all Christians on constitutional grounds” rather than on the basis of human creeds (CB 5 [6 August 1827] 360-61). The “ancient order,” according to Campbell, was the only legitimate (constitutional) and practical means of uniting all Christians, and it enable communities to discard their creeds and stand on the New Testament alone.

Theologically, this essentially means that eccelsiological patterns are matters of sanctification rather than justification (to use the classic terminology of Campbell’s era). The discernment, recognition and implementation of apostolic patterns were matters of growth and maturation. They were not the foundation of the church–who is Jesus, and the confession that he is the Christ, the Son of the Living God–but rather the sanctification of the church in conformity to a constitutional model of reading the New Testament.

Campbell never applied the “ancient order” as either a test of salvation or fellowship.  However, he did attempt to persuade others that a return to the “ancient order” was the way to restore unity to a divided Christianity.

Subsequent participants in the “Restoration Movement” turned the “ancient order” into a test of fellowship as the fundamental identity of the New Testament church, the distinguishing mark between the true church and apostate churches.  That was never Campbell’s intention and he would have regarded it as a subversion of the gospel itself–substituting the “ancient order” for the confession of Jesus as the Messiah as the true test of faith.

Reading the Gospel of Mark

The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God (1:1).

Mark’s first words, in a Roman political and cultural context, are startling. 

“Gospel” was the term used to describe the joyous announcement of imperial news, that is, the Roman Emperor has secured peace, prosperity and security for the known world. “Son of God” was the language of Roman coins, e.g., Tiberius was the “son of God,” the son of the divine Augustus. 

Mark’s Gospel begins as a frontal assault on Roman confidence in their Empire. It is not the Emperor, but Jesus, who is God’s anointed Son. He brings “good news” rather than the Emperor. The narrative of Mark’s gospel unfolds the good news about Jesus the Messiah who is the true Son of God.

The first half of the Gospel of Mark (1:2-8:26) answers the question “Who is Jesus?” with the answer that “He is the Christ (Messiah), the Son of God.”  This means he is healer, forgiver, redeemer, etc.

• The Father declares “You are my Son, whom I love” (1:11)
• An evil spirit cried out, “I know who you are–the Holy One of God” (1:24)
• Jesus said, “So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath” (2:27).
• The disciples ask, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” (4:41).
• Legion exclaims, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” (5:7).
• Two feedings of thousands declared his Messianic role (6:30-44; 8:1-13).
• The people said, “He even makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak” (7:37).

The central confession of the Gospel of Mark is Peter’s response to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say I am?”  He answered, “You are the Christ (Messiah)” (8:29).

• The narrative begins with this Christian confession: Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God (1:1)
• The narrative ends with this confession by a Roman soldier: “Surely this man was the Son of God” (15:39).

The second half of the Gospel of Mark (8:31-16:20) answers the question “Who is Jesus?” with the answer that “He is the Messianic servant who dies and rises for our redemption.” He brings a different kind of kingdom into the world. In contrast to the Roman obsession with power, control and violence, Jesus inaugurates a kingdom of service, sacrifice and healing.

• Jesus began to “teach them that the Son of Man must suffer…be killed…rise again” (8:31).
• Jesus forebade discussion of his transfiguration until “the Son of Man had risen from the dead” (9:9).
• Jesus reminds the disciples that “the Son of Man will be betrayed…mock[ed]…flog[ged]…kill[ed]…he will rise” (10:33-34).
• “For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (10:45).
• The blind man asks, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me” (10:47).
• The crowd praises God acknowledging Jesus’ Messianic entrance, “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David” (11:10).
• Jesus cleanses the temple of God which is a “house of prayer for all nations” (11:17).
• Jesus is the rejected stone of the builders who has become “the capstone” (12:10).
• The Son of Man will “gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth” (13:26).
• Jesus is the sacrificial passover lamb, “Take it; this is my body” (14:22).
• “But the Scriptures must be fulfilled” (14:49).
• The high priest asks, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?”  “I am,” Jesus replied (14:61-62).
• Jesus quotes Psalm 22:1 from the cross (15:34).
• The centurion confesses, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (15:39).
• “Don’t be alarmed,” the angel said, “Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified…has risen!” (16:6). 

 Some communities of faith, like Harpeth Community Church, encourage the use of the SOAP method of contemplative Bible reading.

Scripture reading–read the text, praying beforehand that God will give wisdom through the Spirit

Observe what is in the text, recognizing how something there captures your attention and your heart.

Apply that observation to your own life, seeking how it might change you.

Pray that God will work that application into your heart and bless your seeking.

As you read through the Gospel of Mark over the next three weeks using the SOAP method, permit me to suggest four questions that might help illuminate the significance of what you read. For every story you read in Mark–or every chapter (whatever your reading method is)–ask yourself these questions.

1. What amazes or astounds you in this story?  The Gospel of Mark uses several words which denote amazement or astonishment. Twenty-four (24) times Mark stresses this response on the part of observers in the story. Something new has broken into the world; something is different; something has changed. God is acting in an astonishing ways through the ministry of Jesus. Watch for the astounding, marvellous works of God in Mark’s story. How has God amazed you?
2. What is faith like in this story?  Sometimes faith is absent;  sometimes it is weak; sometimes it even amazes Jesus himself. The disciples are learning to believe throughout the Gospel–they struggle with understanding Jesus’ teaching, they struggle with their own assurance of salvation, they struggle with embracing their mission, they struggle with loyalty and courage, and they struggle with trust. They struggle to believe. We are each those disciples.
3. Who is Jesus in this story? Every story in Mark contributes to the total picture Mark is drawing concerning Jesus. Each story tells us something about the identity and/or mission of Jesus. As you read each story,  Jesus asks you, “Who do you say that I am?” What you believe about Jesus, whether you trust in Jesus, whether you believe God is truly at work in his ministry, will shape your life. Who do you say Jesus is?
4. What is the good news in this story? The narrative Mark writes is a “Gospel”–it is good news. It is the good newss about Jesus, or the good news that Jesus brings. This stands in contrast with the “good news” of the Roman Empire which claimed to bring peace and security to the world; it stands in contrast with the “bad news” of the human situation where disaster, disease and death reign, where sin and violence dominate. The stories about Jesus in Mark accentuate the good news–God has come to his people to forgive, heal and redeem. How is the story of Jesus good news to you?

The story of Jesus, through the words of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, still lives. His story bears witness to the God who loves, the God who heals our hurts, and redeems our souls. The story of Jesus is good news. It is God’s response to the bad news which surrounds us and infects our hearts.  Jesus is the cure; he is the Messiah, the Son of God.

If we would know peace, joy and healing, if we would know ministry and service, we will follow Jesus. 

Immediately after Peter’s confession and Jesus’ clarification that his mission involves sacrificial suffering and service, he offers this invitation–an invitation for all.

If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it (Mark 8:34-35).

***Sermon delivered at the Harpeth Community Church in Franklin, TN, February 8, 2009***

You can listen to the sermon here.

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: J. D. Thomas

 Patternism and a healthy theology of grace are not mutually exclusive. 

A previous post noted that Alexander Campbell did not make his particular understanding of the apostolic pattern a test of fellowship. The “ancient order” was not a soteriological category for him. Rather, it was a  matter of communal sanctification, a matter of growth, development and maturation. Consequently, he regarded other communities of faith than his own Christian.  What would “all that we have written on the unity of Christians on apostolic grounds” mean, he asked, “had we taught that all Christians in the world were already united in our own community?” (Millennial Harbinger 1837).

In this post I turn my attention to J. D. Thomas (1910-2004), Professor of Bible at Abilene Christian University for thirty-three years. He is the author of probably the most significant hermeneutical manual for Churches of Christ–We Be Brethren (1958).  It assumes (practically everyone assumed it in the 1950s), explains and applies the command, example, and inference (CEI) hermeneutic in some detail. The issue the illicited the book was the raging controversy surrounding institutionalism.

Between 1950-1970 about 10% of Churches of Christ banded together as non-institutional congregations. The issues are both broad and narrow. Broadly, these congregations rejected the cultural assimiliation of Churches of Christ, as they saw it, into the mainstream of American denominationalism. Narrowly, they opposed the use of church funds (collected in the church treasury for kingdom work) to support human institutions (incoporated entitites like schools, children’s homes, mission boards [e.g., sponsoring congregations], or any parachurch organization). To these churches the support of such human institutions to do the work of the church is analogous to the support of missionary societies to do the work of the church.

Churches of Christ were generally agreed upon an apostolic pattern in the 1940s:  five acts of worship (a capella singing, praying, teaching, Lord’s supper, and giving), congregational polity with a plurality of elders and deacons, silence of women in the assembly except for singing, etc. This was supported by the standard hermeneutic: command, example and inference (CEI). But the institutional controversy raised specific questions about how to use church funds and how to apply the received hermeneutic.

Thomas defends patternism, explains the hermeneutic and applies it to institutional issues. Roy E. Cogdill (1907-1985), one of the premier defenders of noninstitutionalism in the 1950s-1960s, reviewed Thomas’ book in 1959. That review, a series of articles, is available here. For Thomas, the NT contains a pattern–”a teaching that is binding or required of Christians today” and the “pattern principle” is “what bound the New Testament characters binds us, and what did not bind them does not bind us.”  And this pattern is “established by command, necessary inference, and example” (p. 254).

Thomas provided guidelines for how to apply the hermeneutic. His book has a glossary to define terms such as “generic authority,” “incomplete command,” “hypothesis of uniformity,” “hypothesis of universal application,” “excluded specific,” “overlapping classification,”  and “expedient.”  Sounds fairly technical, huh? Well, that is the point–Thomas took the standard CEI hermeneutic and gave it a “scientific” formulation in hopes of adjudicating the dispute between institutionalists and noninstitutionalists. My question has become–is reading the Bible for discipleship really that difficult?  See my series on “It Ain’t That Complicated.”

At the same time, Thomas is very concerned that the debate between institutionalists and noninstitutionalists reflects–on both sides–a deficient theology of grace. “Our real problem, and the place where we have become ‘bogged down’,” Thomas writes, “is in our tendencies to Legalism” (p. 119).  And “we should admit that we have all had Legalistic tendencies throughout the whole Brotherhood in tim past” (p. 116).  Hear his plea (239, 241):

The man who has not yet realized what it means that the Christian religion is a non-Legalistic, grace-faith system has not yet been able to be thrilled by its true meaning and beauty…When we truly realize the relatinship of faith and owrks in the Christian system–that we work because of our faith and to complete it, and not because of our relation to the Saviour, we find motivation for working even ‘beyond our power,’ yet with the greatest happiness and joy as children of the Most High God!…Matters such as ‘Love the Lord with all your heart,’ and ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,’ and ‘Christ liveth in me,’ cannot be reduced to little precise legal obligations.  Too many of us have thought of Christianity in too small terms and we have therefore failed to see its majesty and immensity and transcendent grandeur…All of us who have been in the church very long have been guilty of some Legalistic inclinations….none of us are ‘without sin.’ We have all no doubt argued strongly for points that we actually were not able to clearly prove to others. Perhaps there has been a degree of selfishness in the most of us, in being critical of the views of others without the ability to show clearly whereiin we were right. Tolerance, humility and a greater love for the Lord and for each other are in order if we want to solve our problems (and if we want to be saved). We must appreciate the fact that WE do BE BRETHERN, and that the tie that binds us in Christian unity is more important than our opinions.

 J. D. Thomas once told me that he was significantly influenced by the teaching and writing of K. C. Moser and that Moser’s understanding of grace was exactly the same as R. C. Bell, another of Thomas’ heroes in the faith and a primary representative of the Tennessee Tradition.  In fact,  Thomas once recalled that both R. C. Bell and G. C. Brewer were among the few who had a “good comprehension of grace” in mid-20th century Churches of Christ (Firm Foundation, “Law and Grace (2) 100 [23 August 1983] 579). And, I have argued, that it was partly the teaching of R. C. Bell and J. D. Thomas at Abilene Christian University that paved the way for a shift in the Texas Tradition toward a Tennessee (e.g., G. C. Brewer, K. C. Moser, James A. Harding) understanding of grace (see Thomas, The Biblical Doctrine of Grace). This shift, along with the popularity of Moser’s writings, led to “The Man or The Plan” controversy in the early 1960s. [As an aside, Harding College had actually kept this grace tradition alive through the teaching of J. N. Armstrong, Andy Ritchie, F. W. Mattox, and ultimately Jimmy Allen; and Harding College Press actually printed some of Moser's writings in the 1950s.]

My point is that though J. D. Thomas was a good patternist–a defender of patternism and CEI as a sound hermeneutic–he nevertheless preached a healthy theology of grace. The two are not mutually exclusive.

The question to pursue, however, is when does patternism subvert the gospel of grace in such a way that it actually becomes a legalism.  That question belongs to a future post.

I am a Patternist; Yes, Really!

Jesus is the logos (word) of God; he is our pattern, the speech of God. His life is the word of God. He embodies all that God desires.

Disciples of Jesus follow Jesus. They follow him into the water, and are thereby baptized. They follow him into the wilderness, and thus seek solitude with God in the midst of their trials. They follow him into intimacy with other disciples, and thus they seek honest relationships with other believers. They follow him to the table, and thus experience relationship with others and commune with God. They follow him into the world as missional people, and thus are heralds and practitioners of the good news. They follow him into the assemblies of God’s people to praise God, and thus they gather as a community to celebrate the good news of the kingdom. They follow him in pursuing mercy and justice, and thus seek to embody a righteousness that declares that the kingdom of God has arrived. Disciples of Jesus do not follow the church, they follow Jesus and thus become the church–the outpost of the kingdom of God in this broken world.

Patternists are generally concerned about “authority.”  I suggest that what Jesus does is our authority. His actions, teachings and practices authorize as they model how God incarnates himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. We follow Jesus to become kingdom people. We are called to be Jesus in the world for the sake of the world.
 
The Gospels provide the pattern, that is, the ministry and life of Jesus. Acts illustrates how the early church lived out that pattern. The epistles interpret and apply the meaning of the good news of the kingdom for believers living in community. The Hebrew Scriptures give us the lens to read the story of God in Jesus within the frame of God’s story among his people and see the depth of Jesus’ life and teaching.

For example–and issues that are often the focus of patternistic discussions, we are baptized because Jesus was baptized; we eat and drink at the table of the Lord because Jesus did. We discern the meaning of baptism and the Lord’s Supper thorugh the lens of God’s relationship with Israel, what it meant for Jesus within his own ministry, and how it was continued and interpreted in early Christian communities (Acts and Epistles). This is the approach I (along with my co-authors) utilized in my books on table, baptism and assembly.

The pattern for the church is not the historical descriptions in Acts, but the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus. The pattern for the church is the ministry of Jesus. What Jesus began to do and teach, the early church continued.

Some patternists divorce the church from the ministry of Jesus and seek their patterns solely in Acts and the Epistles. Indeed, this was Alexander Campbell’s patternism. But to say that the pattern for the church of Christ cannot be located in Christ’s ministry seems counter-intuitive to me. It is like saying that the church can’t be like Jesus or that Jesus is not the model for the church. How can that be? The church is the body of Christ!

Simply speaking, I would suggest that the pattern for the kingdom of God is anticipated in Israel, fulfilled in the ministry of Jesus, continued (applied and interpreted) by the early church, and brought to fullness (completion) in the new heaven and new earth. For a more detail explanation of this approach, interested persons can read my series on “Theological Hermeneutics” and the series entitled “It Ain’t That Complicated“.

The pattern for the kingdom of God lies on the surface of the story of God–it is the narrative of Jesus’ ministry in a broken world.  But that narrative is rooted in the theology and redemptive history of God’s story among his people–first in Israel, climaxed in Jesus, and practiced by the early church.  Rather than constructing patterns through stringing together isolated texts, I suggest we live out the pattern which is given to us in the narrative of Jesus’ own life.

New Items Posted

As I continue to post previously published materials to this website, I have added the following.

1.  I have added an Evangelical Theological Society (1995) presentation that was subsequently published in The Journal of the American Society for Church Growth in the Spring of 1997.  It is entitled Numerical Growth in the Theology of Acts: Pragmatism, Reason and Rhetoric.  The first half of the article demonstrates–at least to my satisfaction–that Luke’s emphasis on numbers and growth in the early part of Acts is a fulfillment motif.  Just as God multiplied the creation through Adam and Eve, and multiplied Israel as his redeemed people, so he mulitplied the church. The second half of the article looks at Paul’s sermon for the philosophers in Acts 17 on Mars Hill. Paul’s sermon illustrates how he used contemporary tools and methods (including rhetoric) to present the gospel. The church, in its missionary outreach, must effectively use the tools and gifts God gives it to communicate the gospel, and especially those gifts and tools that participate and connect with culture.

2.  I have added a presentation given at the 1995 Harding University Graduate School of Religion Preacher’s Forum that was subsequently published in Building a Healthy Minister’s Family (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1996), pp. 51-74.  My article is entitled Sexual Ethics in Ministry. The article is divided into three sections:  (1) Conviction: A Theology of Sex; (2) Commitment: A Sexually Healthy Marriage; and (3) Circumspection: Sexual Sensitivity. 

In particular, William Arnold (Pastoral Responses to Sexual Issues [Louisville:John Knox Press, 1993], 48-52) suggests five boundaries for ministers which must never be crossed. If we cross any one of them, we ought to step back from that relationship and reflect on God’s story again. If we cross them, we need to renew our covenant with our spouses and redouble our commitment to those boundaries. First, there is the boundary of “space.” We must be careful where we meet with a congregant. The place will signal certain messages. There is a vast difference, for example, between meeting in the minister’s office and meeting at a hotel or at a congregant’s home. Second, there is the boundary of “time.” When we begin to spend excessive time with a congregant, then we ought to pull back. When we begin to spend four or five hours a week with a person, and we only see our spouses an hour each evening, then danger signals have appeared. We would need to restructure our time with family and significantly decrease our time with the congregant. Third, there is the boundary of “language.” When language becomes too intimate, or when language is interpreted intimately, then we need to clarify the relationship between ourselves and the congregant. Intimate language breeds physical intimacy. Fourth, there is the boundary of “touch.” While hugs and pats on the back are common in closely-knit congregations, hugs, pats and kisses are inappropriate in counseling or private contexts. The nature, timing and place of a touch communicates volumes and dangerously opens up the possibility of sexual temptation. Fifth, there is the boundary of our own “feelings.” If we sense a sexual attraction toward another person, then we continue to meet with them to our own peril. We must be careful what we think or feel because they are the beginnings of our actions. We need to be honest with our feelings, and remember our commitment to God’s story and our own marriages. Sometimes “feelings” cannot be controlled, but behavior and covenantal commitment can put those “feelings” into proper perspective. Once one begins to develop these “feelings,” the relationship with the congregant must be ended or it will develop to our own destruction.

The problem, of course, is that we sometimes cross the boundaries without even realizing it.  Consequently, it is important to have confidants with whom we can talk–a group of same-sex friends with whom we are open, transparent and vulnerable.  They will see these boundaries crossed before we will, and we must have the humility and the courage to listen and submit to their input.

3.  I have added my 1994 presentation at the Freed-Hardeman University Lectures that was published in the 1994 lectureship book.  The article is entitled Worship in the Second Century Church. The article discusses the value of studying second century liturgy as “foreground” (Ferguson’s term), the liturgical description of Justin Martyr in his Apology and the liturgical description of Tertullian in his Apology. Justin and Tertullian are the most extensive descriptions we have in the second century. Both were explaining the content and procedures of Christian assemblies in order to demystify them for outsiders (and potential persecutors).

4.  I have linked my website with two podcasts of recent sermons. One at Woodmont at the end of 2008 (a blog summary is available at “I will Change Your Name“) and another at Harpeth Community Church on 02/08/2009 (a blog summary is available at “Reading the Gospel of Mark“).

These are my offerings for today.  :-)

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice III

Shaped by Intimacy

[ The sermon version of this small group study is available here].

Jesus lived with twelve disciples. He travelled with the twelve, ate with the twelve, taught the twelve, sent the twelve out to herald the good news and heal the sick, and prayed with the twelve. There were times when he prayed with the twelve and no one else.  “One day Jesus left the crowds to pray alone. Only his disciples were with him” (Luke 9:18). But there were other times when Jesus was only with the three.

We might compare the twelve to a kind of task-oriented small group. It was training ground for the twelve and Jesus was their discipler and teacher, but–as we shall see in the next lesson–it was a group in which Jesus was himself apprenticed as well. But the three is something different. In a group of three or four, intimacy can happen in ways that does not usually happen in a group of twelve or more.

Intimacy defies definition. It is a subjective, personal experience of being in relation with another. It enables one to actually see into the other:  “into-me-see” or intimacy. It is sharing ourselves, our experiences, our feelings, our secrets, our lives.  It is letting another person into our real selves–to let them see how we see truly see ourselves. Obviously, then, intimacy needs safety; intimacy only happens in safe places with safe people. It only happens where there is trust. And it usually only happens within a small group (three to five people) or with a few people.

Jesus built this kind of intimacy with Peter, James and John. He shared life with them in more intimate ways than he did the twelve, according to the record we have. He took them places and did things with them that he did not do with the twelve. Jesus built an intimate trust with those three.

When they arrived at the house, Jesus wouldn’t let anyone go in with him except Peter, John, James and the little girl’s father and m other. (Luke 8:51)

We build intimacy with others through shared experiences. For some reason, which is not explained in the text, Jesus did not take the twelve into the daughter’s room. He only took Peter, James and John. He shared something with them that deepened their friendship and developed intimacy through shared experience. We partner with each other in a task, or spend time with each other in personal, tragic or thrilling moments. Through the shared experiences we learn to trust each other as we see each other coping with reality.

Jesus took Peter, James and John into the inner sanctum of his miracle-working on this occasion. He shared this liberating, amazing  and thrilling moment with them. The shared experienced bonded them in ways that only experiences can. The utter ecstasy and joy of seeing this adolescent girl come back to life seared this moment in their group consciousness. It was an intimate moment between them.

Jesus took Peter, John and James up on a mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was transformed, and his clothes became dazzling white. (Luke 9:28-29)

We build intimacy with others through shared strength. The Transfiguration takes place immediately after Jesus begins to tell his disciples that he is going to Jerusalem to die. This moved their relationship to a deeper level and it must have generated stress, confusion and alarm among them. As he faced this final journey to Jerusalem, Jesus needed affirmation and blessing. The Transfiguration was a divine affirmation and blessing: “This is my Son whom I love.”

Jesus brought Peter, James, and John with him as a small prayer group, and God showed up. Together, as an intimate group, the four are strengthened, renewed and affirmed by the divine presence. Jesus finds strength not only in the divine presence but a divine presence experienced in community with his intimate friends. They share this moment of strength, affirmation and blessing. They are mutually encouraged and strengthened.

He took Peter, James and John with him, and he became deeply troubled and distressed. He told them, “My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me. (Mark 14:33-34)

We build intimacy with others through shared feelings. Jesus had just come from an emotional last supper with the twelve (Judas had betrayed him, the disciples had argued about who was the greatest, Jesus had washed their feet) and had walked over to the Garden of Gethsemane with the eleven during which Peter and the rest pledged their loyalty to the death (but then they failed to keep their promises). He took the three deeper into the garden than the other disciples. He would lean on them for support in more intimate way than the other eight.

Walking with the three Jesus begins to feel the enormity of what is about to happen. His spirit is troubled–even frightened–and overwhelmed. Grief and sorrow flood his heart; it crushes him to the point that he wishes he were dead.  He agonizes over his decision to submit to the will of the Father. Astoundingly, he confesses the depth of his feeling to his intimate friends; he reveals his true self. He shares his feelings with them. He wants his friends to “watch with him”–to share his feelings, to pray with him, to be there for him. He needs a listening ear; he needs the support of his intimates.

Jesus needed the intimacy of human companionship. He would not be authentically human otherwise. God did not create us to live in isolation from others. Rather, he built into us a bonding mechanism that connects with other people. This can become unhealthy (as in codepenency), but connection with other people is necessary for personal, mental and spiritual health. Humans are meant to live in relation with others just as the Triune God is community-in-relation. When these relationships remain superficial we lose what God intended intimacy to provide.

Human intimacy provides authentic relationship, accountability in living, support in times of need, companions to share the joys, and the ability to live without secrets. Jesus nurtured this kind of intimacy with Peter, James and John. His apprenticeship in human intimacy offers us a model.

The journey into intimacy is difficult. It is sometimes disappointing–even as it was for Jesus himself.  But any other journey is lonely, fearful and isolating. We cannot become what God intends without intimacy with others. Without intimacy–at some level–we become a facade, a Hollywood front and we live with a divided self. We let others see one self, but the real self we keep hidden.  We really don’t want anyone to see us as we really are–we really don’t want intimacy–because we fear their rejection and disappointment. But we cannot truly be ourselves without others–a few–knowing us.

Do you have people with whom….

you can express your deepest and most authentic feelings?

you can tell your darkest secrests?

you feel safe talking about your relationships?

you can confess sin?

you can let your guard down and be truly real?

 Questions:

1.  Why do think Jesus sometimes separated the “three” from the rest of the “twelve”? What was significant about each of the three occasions noted in the lesson?

2.  Why does Jesus “need” intimacy? Or, does he? What does his need for human companionship tell us about our need for intimacy?

3.  What does intimacy mean for you? Why is it so difficult to experience? Why do we fear it?

4.  What parameters are necessary for authentic intimacy? What are the “ground rules” of intimacy?

5.  How might we develop intimate relationships with others? What strategies would be useful?

When Patternism Subverts Grace

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short.

Consequently, whether it is conforming our character to the image of Jesus or embodying the ministry of Jesus through the church, we all–individuals and congregations–need divine mercy since we all fall woefully short of the image of God in Jesus.

While I am a patternist, I am not a perfectionist in either ethics or ecclesiology. Not all patternists are perfectionists (or legalists). Patternism per se neither entails legalism nor perfectionism. If it does, then everyone who believes that we are called to conform to the image (pattern) of Jesus is either a legalist or a perfectionist or both.

Legalism arises when the quantity, level and progress of sanctifiction is made a condition of communion with God.  Libertinism (or antinomianism) appears when sanctification is so disconnected from faith (seeking and trusting God) that whether we seek sanctification or not is inconsequential.

Ecclesiological perfectionism is when the understanding and practice of a set of ecclesiological patterns are made conditions of communion with God such that without perfect or precise compliance to those patterns (however they are defined) there is no hope or promise of salvation. 

In contrast I would suggest that perfect or precise compliance to ecclesiological patternism–like ethical conformation to the pattern of the life of Jesus–is not a condition of communion. Rather it is a matter of sanctification as we are conformed more closely to the image of Christ, both corporately and individually. To more closely conform to an ecclesiological pattern (however that is concieved or defined) is a matter of communal sanctification. It is a process, not an event. As a process, sanctification will never be perfect or 100%.

At the same time such conformation is something that faith seeks because we want to be like Jesus. When we refuse to conform to what we know that is rebellion. Insubmissive (rebellious) faith is not faith since faith involves trusting in Jesus and submissively pursuing God’s will in our life however imperfectly we may do that.

Ecclesiological patternism subverts grace when perfect obedience to a set of patterns for the church becomes a test of fellowship or a condition of communion with God. Ecclesiological patternism then becomes ecclesiological perfectionism. I define “perfect obedience” as precisely meeting a set of criteria for ecclesiological practice which distinguish between the “faithful” and the “unfaithful” (thus “apostate” which amounts to a “different religion” [see Jay Guin's assessment of Greg Tidwell's use of this language]).  In this context our faithfulness, rather than the faithfulness of Jesus, counts as our righteousness and salvation; it demands perfect obedience in order to measure up to the standard–we keep the pattern or there is no hope! This kind of ecclesiological patternism stresses that if we are guilty in one point, we are guilty of the whole. If a congregation is missing one mark of a true church, then it is a false church. This is ecclesiological perfectionism.

So, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include observing the Lord’s Supper every Sunday and only on Sunday, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who eat every Sunday and only on Sunday are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include singing a cappella, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who sang a cappella are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria included the absence of the female voice except in singing, then “perfect obedience” would mean only those assemblies where women were silent are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

I would suggest–without debating the merits of the examples above as parts of a biblical pattern–that ecclesiological patternism belongs in the category of communal sanctification. It is a process of growth, maturation and progressive conformation to the image of God in Christ.  Consequently, it is not so much about who is faithful and unfaithful (that is, who complied with the precise conditions of the pattern and who did not) but about orientation, direction and the submissive nature of their faith and heart. Faithfulness and unfaithfulness is more about faith itself than the accumulaton of specific acts of obedience or failure.

Moreover, I would suggest that there are more important questions in ecclesiological patternism than the frequency of the Lord’s Supper or the nature of music in the public assembly.  If ecclesiological patternism means engaging a process of conformation to the image of Christ, then here are few more important dimensions of the “pattern” than frequency and music style. Such as:

• relationship with the poor (the pursuit of mercy)
• the communal use of funds for ministry
• advocacy for the oppressed, marginalized and excluded (the pursuit of justice)
• leadership models within the community of faith
• relationship with enemies
• opposition to suffocating traditionalism that hinders the kingdom of God
• outreach to the sheep without a shepherd or the lost

What I know is that I fall woefully short of these Christological patterns in my own life and in my community. I cannot soothe my imperfections by noting how well or precisely I comply with other dimensions of the pattern (e.g., Lord’s Supper and singing). However, by grace through faith, God is working with and in me to transform me into Christ’s image.  I am in process and I am not perfect.  I am neither perfectly obedient nor do I obey perfectly.  On the contrary, I submit my will to the process of God’s sanctifying work through faith and God redeems me by his grace through faith.

Patternism subverts the grace of God when it makes conformation to the pattern (however defined) as a condition of communion rather than as the fruit of God’s sanctifying work among his people through faith. Grace through faith is the means by which we commune with God and our conformation to the pattern of God in Jesus through the power of God’s Spirit is the means by which we become more and more like him. We are saved by grace through faith and works (sanctification) is the fruit of that communion with God.

I do not offer this post as definitive or indubitable.  Rather, it is only my thinking at this moment. It is part of my own sanctification as I reflect on the situation of fellowship within Churches of Christ.  I have hopes that the “Grace Conversation” website may yet be productive of mutual understanding. My next post will include a few historical reflections of where we are now as opposed to where we were 100 years ago in relation to ecclesiological perfectionism.

[I first offered some of this kind of soteriological reflection in my 1992 "Grace, Works and Assurance: A Theological Framework.]

Patterns, Perfectionism, Grace and the Tennessee Tradition

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short in every way.

Moral Patternism. We rarely have a difficult time hearing that we are imperfect in terms of morality since we are well aware that we fail to image the character of Jesus in so  many ways–internally and externally. We all recognize the need for divine mercy.

David Lipscomb recognized that moral imperfection is covered by the righteousness of Christ, that is, the gracious provision of God’s faithulness in Jesus. Commenting on Philippians 3, he wrote (pp. 205-206):

Even when a man’s heart is purified by faith, and his affections all reach out towards God and seek conformity to the life of God it is imperfect. His practice of the righteousness of God falls far short of the divine standard. The flesh is weak, and the law of sin reigns in our members; so that we fall short of the perfect standard of righteousness; but if we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will, he knows our frame, knows our weaknesses, and as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities our infirmities and weaknesses, and imputes to us the righteousness of Christ. So Jesus stands as our justification and our righteousness, and our life is hid with Christ in God.

Recognizing our sinfulness and infirmity, God graciously “imputes to us the righteouenss of Christ” as “we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will.” The gracious love of God covers our sins and weakness as we “trust God” and “endeavor” to obey him. I think that is pretty significant. It is not that we actually do obey him in every thing or most things, but that we trust him and seek to obey him. We trust and obey but recognize that our trust is often weak and our obedience is always imperfect.

Similarily, in spite of his daily desire to be holy, James A. Harding believed that “perhaps hourly, and sometimes many times in an hour, in some of these ways I sin.” Harding had no illusions of moral perfectionism. But this did not undermine his assurance since he recognized that his weaknesses were covered by the grace of Jesus Christ. He wrote (1883, 442):

Now, under Judaism the principle which obtained was, ‘Do and live.’ As no man could do right, no man could find life. Under Christianity no man can do right anymore than he could under Judaism. The commandments of the decalogue, except the fourth, are just as binding as ever. Who, after reading the sermon on the mount, can imagine that the standard of right is in any wise lowered? But by the death of Christ a provision was made for our weaknesses and imperfections which did not exist under the law. The Christian has precisely the same sort of struggle as did the faithful Jew in trying to do the will of God….but in Christ there is no condemnation; in him all these shortcomings are overlooked; in him our sins are blotted out…The Christian remains in Christ just as long as he “wills to do his will;” as long as he strives earnestly and prayerfully against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

This language is common in Harding. Our works do not save us, but God saves us through faith in Christ.  It is a faith that “wills to do his will” even though we imperfectly do his will.  It is a faith that “strives earnestly and prayerfully” even though we often fail. When it comes to moral imperfections, God graciously and mercifully forgives our ignorance and weaknesses for the sake of Christ. If we are in Christ, “whether [we sin] in ignorance, weakness or willfulness,” God “holds nothing against us” (1903, p. 401).

Moral patternism did not entail perfectionism, according to Lipscomb and Harding. We are all far from perfect–our ignorance, our weaknesses, even our willfulness, means that God’s mercy would have to overlook our shortcomings for the sake of Christ if any of us would ever have any assurance of salvation.  And, according to Lipscomb and Harding, he does this as long as a faith that trusts God and seeks him remains even when that trusting and seeking is imperfect.

Positive Patternism. But Lipscomb and Harding sing a different tune when it comes to the positive laws that govern ecclesiology (and this is genernally true of  Churches of Christ as a whole in the first half of the 20th century). [On the distinction between moral and positive law in the Stone-Campbell hermeneutics, see an earlier post of mine.]

Here perfectionism–in some form–is expected and functions as a test of fellowship between believers. If a fellow believer is not perfect in his positive obedience to the positive laws of the New Testament, then the faithful must separate from him. For example, as it has been subsequently applied by many, if a congregation does not observe the Lord’s Supper every Sunday, then they rebel against the positive law of the New Testament (taught by example in Acts 20:7) and it thereby becomes apostate.

While debating the Baptist Moody in 1889 Nashville on the design of baptism, Harding introduced the distinction between moral and positive law (baptism is the latter). His characterization of the distinction and its significance is illuminating (256-257, emphasis mine):

While the positive law is not right in the nature of things (in so far as mortals can see), but it is right because it is commanded. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper under the new covenant, and the ceremonial law of the Jews under the old covenant, are illustrations of positive law…Positive law differs from moral law in that it can be obeyed perfectly. Positive law is therefore a more perfect test of faith and love, a more perfect test of allegiance to God, than moral law…For these two reasons, doubtless, God has ever been more ready to overlook the infractions of moral, than of positive law; and for the same reasons the positive is peculiarly adapted to the expression and the perfection of faith. I would not have you suppose that I think God would for a moment tolerate a willful violation of moral law. No, no; I simply mean that God, who knows so well our inherited weakness, is patient and gentle with us in our imperfect obedience to this law, and in our many backslidings from it. But positive law we can obey perfectly, and he is strict and stern in demanding that we shall do it.

The application is apparent. God is gracious toward our moral failings because he understands our weaknesses and our inability to obey moral law perfectly. He understands our sanctification will be slow and progressive due to our weaknesses. However, God is stern and unyielding in his insistence on obedience to positive law because we can obey it perfectly. Positive law has such clarity that there is no misunderstanding it. One can be immersed—the command must be obeyed as stated.

This explains why God can act with such grace and forgiveness toward the moral failings of David, but at the same time remove Saul from his kingship for positive disobedience and instantly kill Uzzah. Saul and Uzzah “violated a positive law.” God can bear with the moral failings of his people because of their weaknesses, but God will not tolerate the violation of his explicit positive laws. Old Testament examples testify to God’s sternness. The Old Testament teaches the church to respect the sanctity of positive law.

Positive patternism entails some sort of perfectionism.  Ignorance, weakness, and certainly willfulness, was no excuse and no divine mercy is promised. Positive disobedience, whether out of ignorance, weakness or willfulness, is disloyalty and rebellion. Even if a faith was present that trusted God and sought to obey him according to what was known, it was not enough. Postive disobedience meant that faith was insufficient because their obedience was not perfect enough; their faith could not save them because of their positive infractions or imperfections.

Contrasted.  While the mercy of God for Christ’s sake was sufficient to forgive moral sin through a faith that trusted God and sought to do his will however imperfectly, the mercy of God for Christ’s sake is not sufficient to forgive positive sin through a faith that trusts God and seeks to do his will because that faith did not obey the positive law perfectly. Therefore, perfect positive obedience is necessary for salvation whereas perfect moral obedience is not. The grace of God covers moral imperfections but it does not cover positive imperfections.  

This fundamentally proposes, it seems to me, a God who values sacrifice more than mercy. 

Why are not the positive imperfections covered by the faithfulness of Christ for those who “trust” God and seek to do his will just like the moral imperfections? Are we not are saved by grace through faith rather than by faith through perfect positive obedience to a graciously lowered standard?

May God have mercy.

P.S. For those interested in a fuller discussion of the moral/positive distinction, see my article on Harding’s use of this distinction.  For those interested in a fuller discussion of grace through faith, see my presentation at Harding University Graduate School of Religion.

References

David Lipscomb, Ephesians, Philippians and Colossians, A Commentary on the New Testament Epistles, 4, edited, with additional notes by J. W. Shepherd (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1957).

J. B. Moody and James A. Harding, Debate on Baptism and the Work of the Holy Spirit (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1955 reprint).

James A. Harding, “Scraps,” The Way 4 (26 February 1903) 401.

James A. Harding, “What I Would Not, That I Do,” Gospel Advocate 25 (11 July 1883) 442.

Comment on Rebaptism Articles

In my previous post, I repoduced two responses to a question asked by J. Wesley Smith of Lynchburg, TN, in 1905.  He asked:  “Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for remission of sins a test of fellowship?”

David Lipscomb, editor of the Gospel Advocate, answered in the negative and George W. Savage, editor of the Firm Foundation, answered affirmatively. Those polar opposite responses represented the real danger of a significant division among Churches of Christ in the late 19th and early 20th centuries on that precise question.

But my interest is not so much in the potential division or the explicit answers to the question. Rather, I am interested in the theological method each used to answer the question.

On the one hand, David Lipscomb started with a theocentric principle that Jesus fulfilled. The “desire to obey God is the highest” motive as this “leads to an humble and trusting walk with God” and “to the enjoyment of all the blessings God has in store for those that love” him.

This motive was enacted by Jesus and he thus modeled it for all his disciples. Jesus was baptized to obey God, to “fulfill all righteoueness.” The baptism of Jesus testifies to the authentic and central nature of this motive. Jesus was not baptized for the remission of sins, but to obey God. Jesus loved the Father by obeying him.

Further, when people are motivated by love (the core value in obeying God) rather than by fear (to escape hell through the remission of sins), they imitate Jesus and exhibit the “higher motive.” When one’s baptism is rejected because it was motivated by the “higher” motive rather than the “lower” one, it undercuts the baptism of Jesus himself since this “is the motive that moved Jesus to be baptized.” At the same time, if one is baptized simply for the remission of sins without a sense that this obedience to God–as if one is baptized simply to escape hell or simply to have their sins remitted–this is an improper approach to baptism. It turns baptism into an expiatory rite.

Lipscomb’s argument is rooted in God, Christ and the central value of loving God. It is, essentially, a theological argument.

On the other hand, George Savage is concerned primarily with a single text: Acts 2:38. His argument is radically textual and rooted in understanding “for the remission of sins” as part of the command to be baptized. For Savage the command is not “be baptized,” but “be baptized for the remission of sins.” Obedience, then, entails an understanding that this obedient act involved a movement from lost to saved, from sinner to saint, from guilty to forgiven. If believers do not understand that baptism involves that transistion, then their baptism is invalid because they were not taught correctly.

Construing “for the remission of sins” as part of the command itself, he atomizes this text so that it stands in isolation from the theology of baptism. In essence, by lifting a singular phrase from the text and giving it an absolute meaning indepedent of the context and biblical theology as whole, his argument is a proof-text. His construal of the text, then, becomes a measuring rod for everything else one might possibly say about baptism. Whatever else may be true about baptism, it is fundamentally true for Savage that only those who are “baptized for the remission of sins” are truly baptized.

He does not grasp Lipscomb’s theological argument about love and fear in terms of the motive of obedience. Savage simply flattens everything into obedience and says that the motive must be more than obedience. Thus, he makes room for the atomized text, Acts 2:38, to judge every baptismal response to God. Obedience is a given, but the specific design is something that is equally necessary to true obedience. Obedience is insufficient per se–it must be obedience for the specific design God intended in that ordinance. It must be obedience with understanding–a very specific understanding that Acts 2:38 dictates.

Difference. Part of the faith of baptism for Savage, then, is a faith in the design of baptism, that is, believing what baptism effects. For Lipscomb it is simply trusting in God’s saving work through Christ as we act in obedience. For Savage faith is partly an intellectual affirmation of the true understanding of baptism’s specific design. For Lipscomb faith is personal trust in God as one acts in obedience to the command of God to be baptized.

The nature of baptismal faith has a different meaning for Lipscomb and Savage. Lipscomb’s sense of faith is oriented toward God as trust and follows Jesus’ own baptism; “it is the baptism of Christ.” Jesus’ own baptism is Lipscomb’s model for effectual baptism. Savage’s sense of faith is oriented toward a particular intellectual understanding of baptism; “faith in the design” is “necessary to the validity of the act.” That faith is not a personal trust, but an intellectual assent to a specific teaching about baptism. Lipscomb begins with Jesus whereas Savage ends with a specific intellectual understanding (it is “faith in the design”!).

This exchange illustrates, to some degree, how soteriology (and a theology of grace) differ between the Tennessee Tradition (Lipscomb) and the Texas Tradition (Savage). Lipscomb’s soteriology is grounded in a personal trust in God’s work exhibited through loving obedience while Savage’s soteriology involves a creedal affirmation of a specific design for baptism rather than simple trust in Jesus. Lipscomb follows Jesus but Savage authors a creed to be signed by a baptismal candidate.

Lipscomb is true to the heritage of Alexander Campbell’s restoration agenda on this point. For Campbell the only required faith for baptism was the credo:  “I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.”  Savage continues McGary’s hijacking of the Restoration Movement to serve a sectarian end so that the credo for baptismal faith is no longer centered on Jesus but on what one believes about the design of baptism.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice IV

Living in Community

While Jesus apprenticed in his humanity as he was discipled by his Father, he did not live in isolation from others. Quite the contrary, he travelled throughout Palestine with his twelve apostles and a group of supportive women (Luke 8:1-3). Jesus mentored them, taught them, and prayed with them (Mark 4:34; Luke 9:1-2, 18). As a human being, he lived in community with other humans.

In this Jesus models communal living for contemporary followers. The Twelve with Jesus are, in essence, a functional small group—they are sometimes task-oriented (e.g., mission), sometimes focused on spiritual formation practices (e.g., prayer), sometimes a learning community (e.g., Jesus teaches). They are a “small church” of sorts, at least a small group much like many larger congregations encourage.

While living in community has wonderful rewards, it can also be frustratingly difficult and discouraging at times. This was something that Jesus also learned and experienced as he lived in community with his disciples. His community was, at times, emotionally taxing and aggravating. Does it sound like any community you know?

Mark 8-10 (with Mark 14:4 added in for good measure) wonderfully illustrates the frustration of living in community. The disciples argue with each other about who is the greatest, they get angry with each other, they misunderstand Jesus’ mission, they fail to act in faith, they protect Jesus from children(!), and they want to sit in seats of honor rather than wait on tables.

At this the disciples began to argue with each other because they hadn’t brought any bread. Jesus knew what they were saying, so he said, “Why are you arguing about having no bread? Don’t you know or understand even yet? Are your hearts too hard to take it in?”  Mark 8:16

Jesus said to them, “You faithless people! How long must I be with you? How long must I put up with you? Bring the boy to me.”  Mark 9:19

Jesus asked his disciples, “What were you discussing out on the road?” But they didn’t answer, because they had been arguing about which of them was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve disciples over to him, and said, “Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.”  Mark 9:33-35

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch and bless them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him. When Jesus saw what was happening, he was angry with his disciples. He said to them, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children.”  Mark 10:13-14

James and John replied, “When you sit on your glorious throne, we want to sit in places of honor next to you, one on your right and the other on your left…When the then other disciples heard what James and John had asked, they were indignant. So Jesus called them together and said…“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.”  Mark 10:37,38,41,45

Some of those at the table were indignant. “Why waste such expensive perfume?” they asked. “It could have been sold for a year’s wages and the money given to the poor!” So they scolded her harshly. But Jesus replied, “Leave her alone. Why criticize her for doing such a good thing to me?  Mark 14:4-6

The disciples scold parents who come to Jesus with their children. They scold a woman who gives all she has to Jesus. The disciples are argumentative, judgmental, arrogant, and thick-headed. They were, at times, faithless.

Anybody want to join that small group? Anyone want to live in community with human beings? Sometimes we might just rather live on a island by ourselves.  But Jesus chose community–as frustrating, discouraging and aggravating as that is sometimes.

Perhaps it would probably have been better for Jesus to go it alone. Alone he could have lived out his life before the Father without frustration, without anger, and without aggravation. But then he would not have been truly human because humans were not created to be alone, even alone with God.

Jesus loved his disciples though he was sometimes frustrated with them. He stuck with his disciples though they often did not understand. He prayed for them even when he knew they would deny him and fail him.

Can we learn to live in community like that? Can we put up with each other out of love? Can we stick with each other despite our mutual faults and failings? Can we learn to live in community with others as Jesus did?

Living in community is hard, difficult and arduous work. But it is the kind of work that perfects us, transforms us, and sharpens us. Through it we learn to become communal people in a way that images God’s own communal life who is Father, Son and Spirit. Jesus learned it as a human being and we, as his disciples, follow him into living in community with others just as he did.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Is it surprising to see how much “anger” was present in this small group? What were some of the reasons or occasions for this anger? Identify the situations where anger or frustration arose?
2. If Jesus leads this community, why is it not free of disturbance and disharmony? Should not a community in which Jesus participates exhibit peace and unity?
3. Why was it important for Jesus to experience this as a human being? What did he learn as the Father’s apprentice in humanity that was important for his own mission?
4. What do we learn from Jesus’ own experience in a small group? How do our groups have the same problems? What does Jesus teach us about dealing with these problems as we seek to live in community?

New Items Posted: Baptism, Job, 2 Timothy

Continuing my quest to post previously published or presented materials, I have uploaded some new items–well, some old items (1990s) that are now newly offered on this website. 

Baptism and Alexander Campbell. The 1990 book Baptism and the Remission of Sins (College Press), edited by David Fletcher, contained three articles I authored. They are posted on my Academic page.

Introduction (co-authored with David Fletcher) which situates the baptismal theology of Churches of Christ on the historic landscape of Christian theology and summarizes the chapters in the book.

Alexander Campbell on Christians Among the Sects. This article discusses the  rebaptism controversy, the Lunenberg letter, and Campbell’s attitude toward Christians among the “sects” (e.g., Baptists, Presbyterians, etc.).

The Recovery of the Ancient Gospel: Alexander Campbell and the Design of Baptism.  This article tracks the development of Campbell’s baptismal theology.  I suggest he went through several stages: (1) Presbyterian until 1812 (advocate of infant baptism), (2) Baptist in 1812-1823 (baptism has no relationship to salvation other than a sign), (3) Modified Baptist from1823-1827 (baptism is no longer a duty but is directly related to assurance and a formal reception of the remission of sins), and (4) mature understanding from 1827 forward (articulated in his “Ancient Gospel” series).

On my General page, I have posted two previously published articles.

Job.   “Job’s ‘Sanctuary Experirence ‘and Mine” is an article that appeared in Leaven (2000). It suggests that the movement from “hearing” about God to “seeing” God in Job 42 is a “sanctuary experience” that comforts believers in their tragedies, and comforted me in my own tragic circumstances. Job’s experience was not sui generis; it is the comfort in which God invites all believers and comes to them through faith.

2 Timothy.  “A Personal Word to Timothy (2 Timothy 4:9-22)” appeared in the 1986 East Tennessee School of Preaching and Missions lectureship book.  Paul’s last words to Timothy use the language of Psalm 22 which is a mixture of abandonment and hope.

Book Reviews.

The Disputations of Baden, 1526 and Bern, 1528: Neutralizing the Early Church by Irena Backus.  These “debates” between Zwinglian and Catholic representatives were critical in the resultant division of Switzerland into five Catholic cantons and five Reformed cantons (which is still true today).  Theologically, the focus of the discussion was the principle of sola scriptura.

Prophecy and Reason: The Dutch Collegiants in the Early Enlightenment by Andrew C. Fix.  Dutch Collegiants (small groups gathered for study and discussion) were the center of enlightenment thought in seventeenth century Holland.  John Locke, during his exile from England, participated as well as leading Remonstrant theologians such as Philip van Limborch.

Exile and Kingdom: History and Apocalypse in the Puritan Migration to America by Avihu Zakai. Puritans, though exiled from Europe, sought to establish the kingdom of God in America. Apocalyptic postmillennialism dominanted their self-understanding.

Grace, Assurance and Fellowship: New Items Posted

My quest continues as I post older materials to my website, some published, some previously unpublished.

1.  On October 8-9, 1993, I led a Men’s Leadership Retreat at Camp Idlewild, Virginia on the topic “Where’s the Grace?”  (It is not my fault, Bob Clark invited me!) I have uploaded the lesson handouts and my rough lecture notes (60+ pages) on my General page. The retreat was structured in six sessions.  This was a very early piece of work and while I would still agree with the substance, I would tweak several things and restructure a few (e.g., no recognition of the “new perspective on Paul” here, insufficient stress on eschatology, too forensic with justification, etc.).  However, it does represent my thinking in 1993.   

• Grace: A New Topic Among Us?  Topic:  Grace and Churches of Christ
• The Way of Salvation  Topic:  Unity of the Covenants
• Grace is Free!  Topic:  Justification
• Grace is not Cheap!  Topic:  Sanctification
• How Can I Be Sure?  Topic:  Assurance
• How Much Will Grace Cover?  Topic:  Fellowship

2.  I have uploaded a piece which I presented on several occasions and have sometimes discussed in the classroom.  I have never published it. I am not quite sure when I actually wrote it but it was sometime in the mid-1990s.  It is entitled “The Implications of Hebrews 5:11-6:3 for Fellowship and Assurance”.  Building on the foundation of the ABCs of the teaching of Christ in Hebrews 6:1-3, we are encouraged to progress to maturity.  However, our progress is often flawed, many times regressive, and never what it should be.  For the preacher of Hebrews, however, regression, immaturity and even spiritual lethargy is not apostasy. Rather, apostasy is unbelief, an evil and hard heart of rebellion.

3. I have uploaded a piece I wrote for the Harding University Lectureship book Ephesians in 1994 entitled “Saved by Grace (Ephesians 2:8-10)”. The article offers a textual and theological analysis of Ephesians 2:8-10 in the context of the early 1990s debate within Churches of Christ on the topic of grace (including Rubel Shelly’s (in)famous “arbeit macht frei” bulletin article).

4. Also, somewhat hesitantly, I offer my lecture notes on Jimmy Jividen’s Koinonia: A Contemporary Study of Church Fellowship.  I presened this material in Jividen’s presence and he commented that he thought I had a good grasp on his book and was fair with it. This lecture was given in 1989 and consequently it is quite dated.  But it reflects my understanding at the time….I think.  It is hard to remember now. 

I offer these “classics” from the 1990s realizing that if everyone had just listened to me back then, we could have solved this thing and moved on.

G. C. Brewer on Grace

In 1946 Roy Key of Juneau, Alaska, caused a small stir with his article “The Righteousness of God” in the January 24 issue of the Gospel Advocate. It promoted “some ideas,” one reader wrote, that he “not been accustomed to hearing.” As a result, G. C. Brewer took up his pen to commend the article as substantially summarizing the Pauline teaching of the “righteousness of God” (Gospel Advocate [7 March 1946] 224+).

Apparently the phrase “not been accustomed to hearing” caught Brewer’s attention since it was his own experience that many were “astonished at this teaching” and others were “offended by it at first.” Indeed, Brewer was concerned about both the ignorance and the “false teaching” present among the churches concerning Paul’s gospel of God’s righteousness.

As a younger preacher Brewer had encountered ministers who denied the concept of imputed righteousness. He summarized the teaching of one of these ministers, whom he highly respected, as this:

“You hear people talk about God’s righteousness or Christ’s righteousness being imputed to a man–of the righteousness of Christ covering a man like a garment, etc. This is all false doctrine. The Bible says, ‘He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous’ (1 John 3:7); and David says, ‘All thy commandments are righteousness.’ So you see that a man who does the commandments of God is righteous–no one else is. You can have no righteousness except the righteousness that you do.” 

One would only need to read the Gospel Advocate in the 1940s and beyond to hear the same sentiments in the writings of some prominent writers such as Guy N. Woods and others, particularly in the Texas Tradition. In his younger years fully Brewer embraced this teaching. He bought the party line as he was exposed to it and helped to promote it. He taught the same message and used the same Scriptures to defend it.

However, he “learned the truth on this point by studying Paul” when he began to study Romans to see what it teaches rather than studying “to find something to offset what someone else teaches.” Brewer underwent a theological change from a legalistic concept of faith–a faith where we have no righteousness except our own so that we contribute to the righteousness that achieves for us a righteous standing before God by measuring up to the plan God has given us–to an affirmation of the divine righteousness which is given to us through faith–the righteousness that God himself gives, the gift of righteousness that does not arise from within us or on the ground of our obedience. It was a change from a legalism of works-righteousness to a Pauline doctrine of grace through faith.

Brewer noted that many of his contemporaries had made a similar change. They had begun in legalism but learned to teach a doctrine of righteousness by faith and “not by doing.” As if to counter the charge that his teaching was innovative, Brewer reminded his readers that J. W. McGarvey, E. G. Sewell, T. W. Caskey, David Lipscomb and James A. Harding “knew the truth on this great question and taught it faithfully.” “Harding,” he added, “was especially strong on this doctrine.”

Brewer’s article recognizd a cleavage in the Stone-Campbell Movement over the doctrine of grace. One segment focuses on the righteousness which a person achieves by doing and another segment focuses on the righteousness which God grants a person by faith. It was a cleavage evident in early 1930s when the Gospel Advocate published K. C. Moser’s The Way of Salvation. This book was embraced by Brewer as “one of the best little books that came from any press in 1932″ (Gospel Advocate [11 May 1933] 434), but was rejected by Foy E. Wallace, Jr. as full of “denominational error on the gospel plan of salvation” (Present Truth [Ft. Worth, TX: Foy E. Wallace Publications, 1977] 1037). These two contrasting attitudes to Moser’s book illustrate two distinct approaches to the “righteousness of God.” The former belonged to the Tennessee Tradition rooted in the Nashville Bible School. The latter belonged, in large part, to the Texas Tradition. Unfortunately, it is a cleavage that continues to exist.

In 1952, Brewer gave a speech at the Abilene Lectures which J. D. Thomas regarded as a turning point in the history of Texas churches on grace. Thomas had invited him because of his known position and Thomas himself had been directly influenced by K. C. Moser whom Brewer had supported as the “brotherhood” tried Moser in the fire. Brewer revisited his emphasis that salvation by was “faith” and not by “doing.” This was his primary point at the 1952 Abilene Christian College Lectureship (Abilene Christian College Bible Lectureship [Firm Foundation Publishing Co., 1952], 112-114). God’s part is giving, not selling; and man’s part is believing, not doing. Salvation is “not a matter of law;” a matter of doing or achieving or working. We are free from law, any law, because God has “offered us a righteousness which comes to us on account of our faith in Christ Jesus.” To affirm otherwise is to render void the grace of God in Christ. If “we are just as righteous as we do–that is, if we have no righteousness but our own, which we achieve by doing the commandments–by observing laws–we make the death of Christ unnecessary” (Gospel Advocate, 1946, 224).

The “doing” which Brewer rejects in the context of Churches of Christ is measuring up to God’s “plan of salvation” which is effectively a new law which one must work in order to be saved. Brewer once received a question from an Advocate reader concerning the place of confession in the “plan of salvation” who wanted to know if the “plan” had “four steps or three,” and if one “dies following baptism without confession with the mouth, what will Jesus do on the judgment day about it?” Brewer immediately commented on the prominence of the idea of a “plan” in the mind of the reader (Autobiography, 91-93):

He is not alone in this manner of thinking, either. Some of us have observed this in the writing and preaching of some of our young preachers. It is hoped that the attention of these fine brethren will be attracted to this article, and that the point here will be given serious thought by them . . . there seems to be a tendency on the part of some to think of this “obedience of faith” (Rom. 1:5, 16:26) as a ritual, a legalistic rite, a ceremony comparable to the “divers washings” or purification processes of the Mosaic Law. This is a grievous mistake. To put stress upon a “plan” and the specific items and steps of that plan may lead to a wrong conclusion. We are saved by a person, not by a plan; we are saved by a Savior, not by a ceremony. Our faith is in that divine personage–that living Lord–and not in items and steps and ordinances. We are saved through faith in Christ and on account of our faith in Christ, and not because of a faith in a plan. Sometimes we are led to fear that some people only have faith in faith, repentance, confession and baptism. . . We must trust his grace and rely upon his blood and look for and expect his healing mercy. To trust a plan is to expect to save yourself by your own works. It is to build according to a blueprint; and if you meet the specifications, your building will be approved by the great Inspector! Otherwise you fail to measure up and you are lost! You could not meet the demands of the law! You could not achieve success!

Brewer called his readers to re-examine their doctrine of God’s righteousness in the light of Romans and Galatians. He offered this prayer, “May the Lord forgive us all and let his righteousness not only supply our lack of righteousness, but also our lack of understanding of his word!” He counseled his readers, “Christ alone can save us. Trust him, brother” (Gospel Advocate, 1946, 224).

If you are interested in reading Key’s original 1946 articles and Brewer’s endorsement article, click here.

Women in the Assembly: 1 Corinthians 14:34-35

The academic lecture I have just uploaded as Women in the Assembly: Issues and Options (First Corinthians 14:33-35) was presented at the Institute for Biblical Research Regional Meeting, Jackson, MS in December, 1990. It has never been published till now. When I wrote and presented this material I was teaching at Magnolia Bible College in Kosciusko, Mississippi.

I originally prepared this material during the early summer of 1990 after I was invited to speak on 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 at the 1990 Harding University lectureship. As I read new materials and restudied the text and then authored this piece, my mind underwent a significant shift. Whereas previously I had argued that women should have no audible presence in the public assembly, in the process of writing this paper I changed my mind. That change meant that my invitation to contribute to the lectureship book and speak at the lectureship on this topic was withdrawn. I fully understood then, and still do now, why that was necessary since the invitation presumed that I would defend a position I had previously stated in print on at least two occasions (that is, “Worship in 1 Corinthians 14:26-40: The Injunction of Silence,” Image 5 [August 1989], pp. 24+ and with Bruce L. Morton, Woman’s Role in the Church [Shreveport, LA: Lambert Book House, 1978]). I have no resentments about the withdrawn invitation at all. It was probably best for me as well!

The reason for my shift in thinking was textual in character rather than theological. Theology is much more of my thinking now, but then I was focused specifically on what the text says (and I never want to do less than that even now). Since I had never accepted the differentiation of 1 Corinthians 11:2-16 as a “private” gathering from the “assembly” in 1 Corinthians 11:17-34 where the church shared the Lord’s Supper (the two assemblies are the same in my mind and where is the difference in the New Testament between a “private” and “public” assembly?), I was earlier forced to conclude that either (1) Paul was implicitly forbidding women to pray and prophesy by requiring the head coverning (one can’t wear a submissive head covering and exercise authority at the same time, right?) or (2) he was simply compartmentalizing his response to the situation (addressed the head covering question in chapter 11 and then dealt with silence in chapter 14). Through my renewed study I was disabused of either of those alternatives.

Instead, I was convinced that Paul not only approved praying and prophesying by women in the assembly but that he encouraged it! Reading 1 Corinthians 11:10 with the literal active voice (“has authority”) instead of the presumed passive voice (“sign of authority”), Paul states that a woman has authority (has the right!) to pray and prophesy when she honors her head through the covering. This led me to a critical point: in the early church women audibly prayed and prophesied in the assembly of the church even while they honored their husbands (or the men in the assembly). Consequently, it was not a violation of the created order (to which Paul appeals in 1 Corinthians 11) for women to pray and prophesy–to lead in the assembly through prayer and prophecy–since they could do so and at the same time honor their heads. Leadership, then, does not necessarily imply headship!

Since Paul approved audible female participation in the assembly in 1 Corinthians 11, he could not have meant that they should be silenced in 1 Corinthians 14.  So, what did he mean?  I concluded that he either meant that disruptive women should be silent (e.g., the wives of the prophets interrupting the assembly with their questions or women babbling in disorderly Greco-Roman cultic style) or that women were precluded from “judging” the prophets (which is the view I take in this presentation). Paul did not prohibit women from speaking per se, but from a particular kind of speaking, a disruptive or intrusive speaking.

This essay, then, represents an important moment in the development of my understanding of gender roles in the assembly. It was a significant step for me. I here offer it to the public for the first time since it was read at the regional professional meeting in Jackson, MS, in 1990. It has not seen the light of day since then though I have used its ideas on many occasions and in a variety of modes.

I have, of course, grown in my understanding of the issue since then. I can’t say that I am completely satisfied with where I am. I sense that I am missing something and I am open to hearing the text anew. The text mastered me (at least I think it did on this point) during the summer of 1990. I hope it will yet again master me so I that I might more faithfully speak God’s vision for his world and church rather than my own cultural and/or traditional biases.

Christian Experience: Alexander Campbell and the Baptists

Alexander Campbell’s relationship with the Baptists is rather complicated.  His Brush Run congregation petitioned for membership Redstone Baptist Association in 1815 and then was admitted in 1816.  In 1823 Alexander Campbell, along with thirty members from the Brush Run church, planted a new congregation in Wellsburg, Virginia. That congregation joined the Mahoning Baptist Association in 1824.  The Redstone Association effectively removed the Brush Run church from their rolls in the years 1824-1826 due to rising tensions.  In 1829 the Beaver Association anathematized the Reformers and six other Baptist Associations did the same in 1830.  These anathemas split the Baptist church in Kentucky. Between 1829-1831 Baptists, in Kentucky alone, lost 9,580 members to the Reformers and half their churches.

The primary tension between the Reformers and the Baptists was the relationship between faith, baptism and “christian experience.”  The 1830 Redstone Association “resolved” that the “exclusion” of the Reformers “was on account of being erroneous doctrine [sic], maintaining, namely…that faith in Christ is only a belief of historical facts…rejecting and deriding what is commonly called christian experience…there is no operation of the Spirit on hearts of men…”  (Minutes of the Redstone Baptist Association, September 3-5, 1830, p. 5).

Alexander Campbell attempted to maintain fellowship with the Virginia Baptists despite the rejection of the Kentucky Baptists. He sought dialogue with leading Baptist ministers such as Robert B. Semple and Andrew Broaddus. But Campbell’s “Extra” on the baptism for the remission of sins in July 1830 was a major breaking point as Broaddus believed this was at odds with “christian experience.”  In 1832 he wrote a friend: “To his view of baptism, as the only medium of actual pardon, justificatio, sanctification, reconciliation, adoption and salvation from the guilt and power of sin–and to his view of divine influence as consisting merely in the moral influence of the word, I would not consent” (Broaddus, Memoirs, 289-90). 

Eventually, the Dover Association of Virginia excluded the Reformers in 1832 based on resolutions drawn up in December 1830 (e.g., seventy-two members were dismissed from the First Baptist Church of Richmond, Virginia). Campbell himself commented that the “whole matter” of the Dover resolutions “is the denial of their mystic influences of the Holy Spirit, and immersion for the remission of sins” (Millennial Harbinger, 1831, 78). Thus, both the Baptists and the Disciples (Campbell) recognized that the theologial differences between them were basically two (though there were other tensions, of course):  the design of immersion and the work of the Holy Spirit in conversion. 

This, of course, remained the primary tension between the Stone-Campbell Movement and the Baptists throughout the 19th and 20th centuries.   Many debates ensued on those two topics (e.g., the Nashville Debate between Moody and James A. Harding as well as the Hardeman-Bogard Debate, and many, many others). I have suggested in another presentation that reproachment is possible (“Seeking Consensus: A “Kinder, Gentler” Campbellite Baptismal Theology“) and especially so in the light of recent discussions among the Baptists themselves (especially Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ).  Understanding the origins of our differences, their nature ,and how they were originally polarized is an important first step in pursuing dialogue today. 

For those interested my article Baptism, Faith and Christian Experience: Baptists and Disciples Part Company discusses the history of this separation of Baptists and Disciples in some detail and explores the theological tension between them on the nature, means and content of “christian experience” in relation to salvation.  The article first appeared as “Baptism, Faith and Christian Experience: Baptists and Disciples Part Company” in Evangelicalism and the Stone-Campbell Movement, edited by William Baker (Downer’s Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2002). It now appears on my Academic page.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice V

Road Trip: Shaped by Mission

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.”  Luke 4:18-19 (quoting Isaiah 61:1-2)

Early the next morning Jesus went out to an isolated place. The crowds searched everywhere for him, and when they finally found him, they begged him not to leave them. But Jesus replied, “I must preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God in other towns, too, because that is why I was sent.”  Luke 4:42-43

One day Jesus called together his twelve disciples and gave them power and authority to cast out all demons and to heal all diseases. Then he sent them out to tell everyone about the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick…So they began their circuit of the villages, preaching the Good News and healing the sick.   Luke 9:1-2, 6.

These text raise some interesting questions.

• What is the good news of the kingdom of God?
• What is the mission of Jesus?
• How does healing the sick embody the good news?

All these texts in Luke come before Jesus ever turns his face toward Jerusalem; they come long before Jesus announces to his disciples that he must die and rise again. So, the questions cannot be answered in terms of the death and resurrection of Jesus except that the death and resurrection of Jesus are the climatic fulfillment of what it means to preach “good news and heal the sick.” After all, the death and resurrection of Jesus are God’s Yes to the prayers “Your Kingdom Come.”

But the ministry of Jesus is also significant for mission and not simply his death and resurrection. The mission for which Jesus was sent into the world is summarized as declaring the good news of the kingdom and—to say it broadly—“heal the sick.” If the good news is not the death and resurrection of Jesus, it is the announcement of the coming reign of God and the in-breaking of that reign through Jesus’ healing ministry, through his ministry to the poor and oppressed, through his ministry to the “outsider” in Luke.

Jesus practiced this ministry; he was apprenticed into this ministry. He took it as a mission from God and lived it out in his life. Disciples are called to do the same.

The disciples of Jesus are a missional community. The disciples take up the mission of Jesus himself. They are also to declare the good news of the kingdom and heal the sick. Jesus sent out the twelve on this mission, and then also the seventy (Luke 10). Ultimately, he sends his church.

The mission of Jesus is the mission of the church. The church discovers its mission by immersing itself in the life and ministry of Jesus. The church, as the body of Christ, continues the mission of Jesus himself. The book of Acts tells the story of how the church continued what Jesus himself “began to do and to teach” (Acts 1:1).

Healing the sick, releasing the imprisoned, freeing the oppressed—the mission of Jesus—is the mission of the church. The good news (the gospel; the evangelistic message) is not simply about saving souls but also about saving the whole person, body and soul. It is good news for the poor not only in their spiritual emptiness but also in their material poverty as the church feeds, clothes and heals.

If the church really took up the mission of Jesus in its wholeness, what would “doing church” look like? This is the challenge for the church and its mission in the 21st century—the challenge to embody the ministry of Jesus in our world and to become Jesus to our world.

Just as Jesus was sent into the world for the sake of the world, so the church is also sent into the world for the sake of the world. Jesus was blessed to bless others, and so the church–blessed with the riches of God’s grace and mercy–is sent into the world to bless others with the good news of God’s reign.

Questions for Discussion:

1. What was the mission of Jesus? What is the good news of the kingdom of God? (Caution: Jesus is preaching this good news long before he ever begins to tell anyone that he is going to Jerusalem to die and rise again.)
2. How was Jesus apprenticed in this mission? Was Jesus ever tempted to shift his mission or emphasis? What kinds of temptations do you think he might have faced?
3. If the disciples were sent to tell the good news and heal the sick, how does that epitomize Jesus’ mission? How do we implement this mission as we follow Jesus? What does that look like?
4. What are the implications of saying “the mission of the Jesus is the mission of the church”? How might that change the way we “do church” or think about “church”?

It is Spring! Well, for some of us!

Where can one work at his computer and watch live MLB baseball in February?   Answer:  on the “Space Coast” of Florida!

Some of you are living in the cold, some of you are caged in an office, some of you are languishing in the boredom of your jobs.   I, however, am watching–by the grace of my wife (first and foremost!) and the graciousness of my brother (who works for the Nationals)–the Nationals and Tigers play the first home game of Spring training for the Nationals.

Come on in “boys,” the water is fine. 

Confession and the “Plan of Salvation”: Another Texas and Tennessee Difference

In an earlier post I quoted a piece from G. C. Brewer’s autobiography where he objected to the emphasis that some placed on the plan of salvation rather than on a personal savior. His comment came in the context of discussing the role of confession in the five-step (or is it four-step or three-step?) plan of salvation. Brewer did not think “confession” was a necessary part of the plan of salvation (1945).

This was quite a divisive topic at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries. J. W. Jackson, one of the editors of the Firm Foundation, was even asked if a church should withdraw from a person who “contends that the confession before baptism is not essential to the remission of sins” (1897; he had earlier recommended excluding those who did not believe that baptism was for the remission of sins). To his credit Jackson advised bearing with the brother even though he believed that “faith in Christ includes the confession of that faith, for a faith that does not act is a dead faith and valueless.” But the question indicates the intensity of the discussion which did not abate throughout the next decade. J. R. Lane scolded David Lipscomb for his “denial of the clear teaching of God’s word on the subject” and his “presumption in doing in the name of Jesus Christ something that he says ‘no mention is made of in connection with any baptism in the scriptures!’” (1907).

There were three positions among Churches of Christ in the late 19th century: (1) the confession of faith before baptism was not a necessary condition of salvation (Gospel Advocate, Lipscomb, Sewell and the Tennessee Tradition generally), (2) the confession of faith before baptism was a necessary condition of salvation (Firm Foundation, McGary, Jackson, Savage and the Texas Tradition generally), and (3) the exact form of the confession in Acts 8:37 was a necessary condition of salvation (J. P. Nall, editor of the Word of Truth; cf. McGary, 1900).

The seriousness of the question is indicated by how the question is focused in the question “What must I do to be Saved?” which was a standard homily at the time. While A. J. McCarty complained that he had heard a supposedly “loyal” brother preach on the question “and he did not once mention the confession” (1898), Joe S. Warlick took pride in the fact that he “never” puts “confession in the answer” because neither Jesus nor any “inspired apostle ever included it in answer to the question” (1899). Warlick believed that “more than half” of the “strongest preachers in Texas” agreed with him (1900) though the Firm Foundation opposed him. The Tennessee Tradition (David Lipscomb, E. G. Sewell, etc.) also agreed with Warlick (though he did not call attention to this fact himself).

McCarty did not believe “any man” had a “scriptural right to be silent on this important item in the gospel plan of salvation” and whoever neglects it is “unfaithful.” He advised that those who do not teach and practice the confession should be marked and avoided as Romans 16 teaches. “Brethren, will we do it?” was his concluding question.

Warlick insisted that there were “only three conditions in the plan of salvation to the alien” and Jesus himself stated them in the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20; Mark 16:15-16; and Luke 24:45-47). “And the apostles in preaching to sinners never hinted at a fourth, but used only three” (1900). Warlick even offered $100 to the person who could “produce chapter, verse or any fractional part thereof” for this fourth step (confession) in the New Testament (1901).

All the editors of the Firm Foundation insisted on a confession of faith prior to baptism as a “necessary condition of salvation” in the plan of salvation. McGary, for example, believed it was “necessarily implied” in the Great Commission (1900). George Savage argued in this manner: “Since ‘the faith’ is the gospel, and since the confession is part of the faith preached everywhere to both Jew and Greek by the apostles of Christ, it follows that the confession is part of the gospel. Since the gospel in all its parts is essential to salvation, it follows with all fidelity to God that the confession is necessary to salvation” (1904). Confession, then, is one of the commands of the gospel just like baptism and therefore it is absolutely necessary to salvation.

Why was this so important for the editors of the Firm Foundation? What was driving the pursuit of this controversy? It is related to the rebaptism controversy. Since Baptists confessed that their sins had already been forgiven, this is not the “good confession” required in the New Testament, according to McGary and others. Referring to Lipscomb and Sewell as “unstable souls,” McGary believed that “were it not for the practice of receiving Baptists on their baptism (who did not make this confession when they were baptized),” it would not be an issue at all (1901). But Lipscomb and Sewell continued to insist that even Baptists were immersed upon a confession that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God—the same confession upon which Alexander Campbell himself was immersed. Consequently, they were forced, in McGary’s opinion, to deny that confession was a necessary condition since the confession Baptists made was not the same as the “good confession” in the New Testament.

According to McGary, the combination of accepting sect baptism and denying the necessity of confession as a condition of salvation far exceeds the seriousness of the “advocacy of instrumental music in worship and human societies in the work of the Lord.” Though the instrument and socities are “great evils,” they “do not begin to compare in their enormity of crime against God, with this most gigantic and presumptuous sin of virtually endorsing Baptist doctrine, which openly contradicts Christ” (1901). Lipscomb and the Gospel Advocate were in error on the plan of salvation and this was more serious than instrumental music!

The confession and rebaptism issues, then, were bound up together for the Texas Tradition. Both commands are part of the gospel itself (the gospel includes facts, commands and promises–the standard mantra that enables “gospel” to include every command in the NT if so construed). Confession is a command by necessary inference and baptism for the explicit purpose to remit sins is based on reading “for the remission of sins” in Acts 2:38 as part of the command. These particular gospel commands distinguished Churches of Christ from the Baptists. Lipscomb believed both “commands” were “ritualism” since they had been made an “essential form” where some “valued the form above the substance” (Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, pp. 97-98).

When the Tennessee Tradition does not agree, it essentially—according to the Texas Tradition—sides with the Baptists and undermines the distinct identity of Churches of Christ. Steps (4) and (5) in the Texas plan of salvation—confession and baptism for the remission of sins (see a previous post on this point)—function to distinguish Churches of Christ from the Baptists. In other words, this peculiar, distinctive and late (1880s forward) understanding of the “gospel plan of salvation” is sectarian in character and functions to exclude obedient believers (e.g., those who were immersed out of a trust in Christ in obedience to God) from the visible church of God, the fellowship of the church.

The debate over the place of “confession” in the plan of salvation, then, was but another part of constructing the 20th century identity of Churches of Christ. Anyone who grew up in the Churches of Christ of the mid-twentieth century can testify to the unquestioned assumption that there were five steps in the plan of salvation and the fourth one was “confession.” But it had not always been so among “us”! Historically, it became so out of largely—though not exclusively—sectarian motives.

For further examples of the Texas-Tennessee difference, see that category under “Stone-Campbell History” in the Serial Index.

Citations:

G. C. Brewer, “Confession and the Plan of Salvation,” Gospel Advocate 87 (26 April 1945) 233.

J. W. Jackson, “Question,” Firm Foundation 13 (30 Nov 1897) 4.

J. R. Lane, “Brother Lipscomb on the Confession,” Firm Foundation 23 (13 August 1907) 1.

David Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, edited by J. W. Shepherd (Cincinnati, Ohio: Rowe Publishers, 1918).

Austin McGary, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (20 November 1900) 775.

Austin McGary, “Unstable Souls,” Firm Foundation 17 (10 September 1901) 4.

Austin McGary, “[Untitled Editorial],” Firm Foundation 16 (29 May 1900) 344.

George W. Savage, “The Confession—It is a Condition of Salvation—No. 2,” Firm Foundation 20 (20 Dec 1904) 4.

Joe. S. Warlick, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (20 November 1900) 774.

Joe S. Warlick, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (5 February 1901) 4.

Joe S. Warlick, “The True Position on the Confession,” Firm Foundation 15 (16 May 1898) 312.

Old JMH Articles: 1980s

Some are worthwhile, some are not; or, at least, some are more worthwhile than others.    You will have to be the judge.

“Ministerial Education,” Magnolia Messenger 11.6 (June 1989), 11, 14.

Building on J. W. McGarvey’s article on ministerial education (Lard’s Quarterly, 1865, 239-250), the piece argues for a liberal arts education plus additional theological education for ministers. It is tailored toward the institution at which I taught at the time and is thus contextualized in significant ways.  The article cites Lard’s Quarterly as volume 3 but it is volume 2.

“Tertullian, Gospel Advocate 130.10 (October 1, 1988), 51.

Tertullian is the fountainhead of Western theology and vocabulary.  This is a very general assessment of his importance at the request of the editor at the time.  Why did he ask for Tertullian?  I’m not quite sure.

““Are We Saved by Imputed Righteousness? (1) & (2),” Image 2.10 (May 15, 1986), 10, 17 and Image 2.11 (June 1, 1986) 16, 20.

We are justifed by the gracious gift of Christ’s righteousness. We are not saved by our own inherent righteousness, our own “doing” of the law. This piece does not take count of the “New Perspective” on Paul but nevertheless still stresses an important truth.

“The Heritage of Alabama’s Restorer: J. M. Barnes ” Gospel Advocate 128.9 (May, 1, 1986), 276-7.

Justice McDuffee Barnes was a representative of the Tennessee Tradition. Educated under Alexander Campbell at Bethany, he was a pioneer evangelist and educator in south Alabama. He was a frequent contributor to the Gospel Advocate in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

“Peter’s Hypocrisy and Ours, Gospel Advocate 128.8 (April, 17, 1986), 244-5.

When the people of God erect barriers to fellowship that are not soteriologically grounded, they follow Peter into his hypocrisy.  This principle still holds true, I think.

“No Private Interpretation,” Sound Doctrine 10.2 (April-December, 1985), 30.

2 Peter 1:20-21 stresses that the prophets of Scripture did not originat their own messages with their own imagination but were sustained by the Spirit.

“Compassion: The Basis of a Wholistic Ministry,” Image 1.9 (October 1, 1985), 18-19.

Matthew roots the ministry of Jesus in his compassion.

New Items Posted, Again

A.  I have conducted several seminars on 1 Corinthians, especially for newer church plants (e.g., Kiev).  I have uploaded the lecture outlines and small group question materials for a series on 1 Corinthians that I put together for the Cordova Community Church in the late 1990s.  This was the congregation that Gary Ealy and I, along with others, helped plant.  Our method was to present some teaching material for 30 minutes and then we would discuss it in small groups for 30 minutes. There are sixteen lessons which I have uploaded on my Classes page in one document:

1. What Unites Us (1 Corinthians 1).
2. What Might Divide Us (1 Corinthians 3-4).
3. Community Standards (1 Corinthians 5).
4. Community Ethics (1 Corinthians 6).
5.  Healthy Marriages (1 Corinthians 7).
6. When Love is More Important Than Knowledge (1 Corinthians 8).
7. When Others are More Important Than My Rights (1 Corinthians 9).
8. No Presumption: The Lord’s Supper and Ethics (1 Corinthians 10).
9. Male and Female in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 11:3-10).
10. Whose Meal is This? The Lord’s Supper or Ours? (1 Corinthians 17:17-34).
11. Body Language: Whose Job Is It Anyway? (1 Corinthians 12).
12. Love Language: Love Heals Disunity (1 Corinthians 13).
13. Worship: Rational, Emotional or Both? (1 Corinthians 14:1-25).
14. Order Rather than Chaos in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 14:26-40).
15.  The Gospel: Our Foundation and Hope (1 Corinthians 15:1-19).
16. The Collection: Sharing God’s Gifts with Others (1 Corinthians 16:1-4).

B.  The second piece I have uploaded is my thirteen page handout for the Midwest Preacher’s Seminar in Wisconsin on September 22-24, 2000.  The seminar was entitled “Stress These Things: Theological Reflections on Titus.”  I have put it on my General page.  I structured the epistle in this manner:

Introduction (1:1-4)
     Salutation (1:1a, 4a)
     Theological Summary (1:1b-3)
     Greeting (1:4b)
Thematic Concern (1:5)
     Appoint Elders (1:6-16).
          The Character of Elders (1:6-9)
          The Character of False Teachers (1:10-16)
     Teach Sound Doctrine (2:1-3:11)
          First Directive (2:1-15)
               Moral Exhortation (2:1-10)
               Christological Ground (2:11-14)
               Encouragement (2:15)
          Second Directive (3:1-11)
              Moral Exhortation (3:1-2)
              Theological Ground (3:3-8)
              Warning (3:9-11)
Conclusion (3:12-15)
     Ministry Details (3:12-14)
          Ministry Partners (3:12-13)
          Ministry Purpose (3:14)
     Benedictory Greetings (3:15)

C. I have upload a presentation I made to Korean Ministers visiting America in the late 1990s on church polity to my General page. This document also served as a theological backdrop for leadership in the new church plant in Cordova, Tennesseee. It surveys a theology of leadership, the function of evangelists, elders and deacons, as well as the concept of a “leadership team” to serve a church. As evangelists instruct elders with knowledge and elders guide evangelists with wisdom, together they equip the church for ministry.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VI

Connected Living: Levels of Community

The Triune God, of course, lives together in perfect unity, transparency and intimacy. The Father loves the Son, the Son loves the Spirit and the Spirit loves the Father. They are one (John 17:20-25). Their community is unbounded; it is infinite.

Living life as a human, however, Jesus learned to live in community in bounded ways; he lived as a finite human being. He could not be intimate with everyone; he could not share his day-to-day life with everyone; and he could not even speak to everyone. Rather, he lived out his humanity as we live out ours—he connected with others at different levels of community.

We may call these “circles of fellowship” or “levels of community.” Whatever we call them the Gospel narratives indicate that Jesus experienced communal life in various ways and at different times. His experience is a model for reflecting on our own experience as we seek to become fully and authentically human ourselves.

The Levels

Solitude. Jesus took time to be alone with God—the Father and Spirit. This was foundational for everything else in his life. This time confirmed his identity and focused his mission. In this time we face our true selves and learn to love ourselves because we are loved by God.

Intimacy. Jesus shared life and feelings with Peter, James and John. They were his intimates with whom he could share experiences, burdens and fears that perhaps he could not share with others. We need people who know our secrets, to whom we confess our sins, and who will hold us accountable. We need people who know our stories, our true selves and before whom we are emotionally and spiritually “naked and unashamed.” Many have “covenant groups” but sometimes they are too large. Intimacy happens with three or four people, perhaps six, but rarely much larger than that.

Relationship. Jesus traveled with the twelve and a few female supporters. He ate with them, prayed with them, recreated with them, and served with them. They were his “small group” – a group of people which numbers between 10 and 20. These groups are not intimacy groups, but they are relationships which supply mutual support, social interaction, and even fun. These are the people who surround us with their love in times of tragedy and join us in celebration in times of joy. They share life with us. These are the people with whom we eat the “last suppers” or the “Passovers” of our life.

Community. Jesus also spent time with larger groups of disciples than the twelve. He gathered seventy disciples to send out two by two in Luke 10. In the setting of most of our congregations, these are the Bible classes we attend or the ministries in which we serve. They are twenty to a hundred people whose names we know and with whom we share a common interest or task. This level of community is generally task-oriented with less focus on inter-personal interaction.

Assembly. Jesus also went to the Temple to worship with the people of God, with the crowds and multitudes. He attended the festivals and synagogue assemblies. He stood in the congregation and praised the Father. Assemblies, of course, range in size from small communities (30-100 people) to crowds of people (thousands). But the focus of community here is not interpersonal interaction as much as the presence of God within the community. Here, together, we encounter God as one people; here we join the heavenly assembly of saints and angels to praise Father, Son and Spirit. And we are thereby encouraged and empowered as a community to embrace and pursue the mission of God in the world.

Living Community in Levels

At different times in our lives we emphasize different levels. Someone who has been hurt or abused by intimacy may only desire anonymity in the assembly for a period of time. Someone who has experienced loneliness in assembly may want to focus on developing intimacy with others. Someone who has for years focused on community tasks may discover a need to focus on solitude for a period of time.

There is no single way to slice this pie. Everyone is different and at different times has different needs. That is fine and leaders should have the patience to let people be where they are instead of forcing them into particular molds or church programs.

At the same time while community can happen naturally at all these levels, leaders may encourage believers to seek out community at every level in appropriate ways at appropriate times. Healthy congregations provide opportunities for the experience of community at every one of these levels. Leaders strategize how to best promote these experiences for their flock.

We cannot expect one form of community to supply the need for which another level is designed. We cannot expect a Bible class (community) to provide the intimacy that a group of three or four friends can. If we do expect it, then we will be sorely disappointed. Neither can an assembly be a “small group” where we know everyone. However, we can seek out each level of community so that our lives find balance, nurture and fulfillment just as Jesus found in his human relationships.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Identify what you find most valuable and helpful about each level of community?
2. What do you think makes each level of community different from the other? Why is it important to recognize those differences?
3. On what level of community do you need to focus more of your attention at this moment in your life?
4. How can the church guide people to or help them discover these different levels of community as part of body life?

Lipscomb on Rebaptism: A Succinct Statement

David Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, ed. by J. W. Shepherd (Cincinnati: Rowe  Publishers, 1918), p. 53. 

Question: “May a person who believes his sins forgiven submit to a scriptural baptism while thus believing?”

Answer:  “There is something unscriptural in the case as presented; but what is it? Is it the baptism, or is it the understanding of when a person is pardoned? If the latter, does that invalidate the former? This is the point of issue in this question, and it is continually ignored.  “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” (Mark 16:16.) The thing to be believed is that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. A person that believes this, and, on this faith, is baptized, is scripturally baptized; but if he believe he has been forgiven before he is baptized his faith is unscriptural–that is, he mistakes the point in the path of obedience at which pardon is promised and can be claimed. Does a mistake as to the point at which God bestows the blessing cause God to withhold the blessing form one who, through faith, does what God tells him? If so, where is the precept or example that shows it? If it is so, it must be because God requires a person to understand at what point in the path of obedience a blessing is promised before he can receive it.  Does any one believe this? I have never found one that would affirm it. I have asked for a single precept or example in the New Testament or the Old Testament that would prove it. I have never seen one produced that was claimed to teach it. I can produce scores of examples and precepts from the Old Testament and the New Testament showing that a misunderstanding on the part of man as to when, in the path of obedience, a blessing was promised, or even of what the blessing was, did not prevent God bestowing the blessingwhen the point was reached. To deny the blessing would be given in this instance because the person mistook the point at which the blessing was bestowed is to set at defiance the teachings of God through the Old Testament and the New Testament, which were written for our example and admonition. God is pleased with the faith that does what he tells to be done without waiting to know when and how God will bless.”

Another Statement (pp. 52-53):  “Christ was baptized ‘to fulfill all righteousness,’ or to obey all the commands of God to make men righteous. (Matt. 3:15.) It is difficult to improve on the examples of Christ. All blessings and all the promises of God connected with the service of God ought to be proclaimed to encourage men to trust in and obey God. But when man does so trust God as to do what he commands, God accepts that service from the humblest of mortals, and man should throw no stumbling-blocks in the way of these little ones of God. There is no greater hindrance to the cause of God at this day than magnifying things not taught by God into questions that create strife among the people of God and divert their minds from the great work of saving men and women from death.”

My Comment:  Lipcomb consistently stresses (1) the example of Jesus and (2) the faith that saves.  If Jesus was baptized to obey God, then following that example is sufficient, and the faith that is required for baptism is a faith in Jesus and not a faith in the promise or blessing of baptism.  Anyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ and obeys God in baptism through that faith receives the blessings God promised in connection with baptism whether they know it or not (not only the remission of sins, but the gift of the Holy Spirit as well) and even if they had a mistaken notion of what God had promised.  God’s promises do not depend upon a perfectionistic understanding of what God has promised but rather are received through faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the Living God.  God gives his grace (blessings) through faith and not through perfectionistic understanding.

Hebrews: Sermon, Bible Class and Small Group Resource

In the Fall of 2002, Rubel Shelly and John York preached through Hebrews at the Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, Tennessee. They entitled their series “Strength for the Journey.”  At the same time I provided resource teaching material for the Bible classses and some small groups used that material as well. 

Rubel’s sermons are available here and John’s are available here.  Rubel and John identified the text and provided a summary of their homiletic point.  I then constructed a teaching resource based on their chosen text and summary. So, I followed their division of the text into chucks. 

Each lesson was divided into (1) Teaching Materials and (2) Teaching Options.  Under the teaching materials, I provided (a) exegetical notes and (b) pointed out what I thought was the theological substance of the passage.

I have uploaded the 106 pages of single space material to my Classes page.  I hope they are helpful to some.

Outline of Lessons 

1. Outline of Hebrews
2. Introducing Hebrews
3. God Must Really Love Us (Hebrews 1:1-4)
4. Fascinated by Angels (Hebrews 1:5-2:18)
5. In Awe of Moses (Hebrews 3:1-19)
6. Awed by Joshua (Hebrews 4:1-13)
7. Our Compassionate High Priest (Hebrews 4:14-5:10)
8. We are At Risk! (Hebrews 5:11-6:20)
9. Jesus: Eternal High Priest of the Melchizedekan Order (Hebrews 7:1-28)
10. Looking to Jesus: A Better Covenant (Hebrews 8:1-13)
11. Looking to Jesus: Ministry in the Heavenly Tabernacle (Hebrews 9:1-10)
12. Looking to Jesus: The Perfect Sacrifice, Part I (Hebrews 9:11-28)
13. Looking to Jesus: The Perfect Sacrifice, Part II (Hebrews 10:1-18)
14. So? (Hebrews 10:19-39)
15. Take Heart From Others’ Stories (Hebrews 11:1-40)
16. Eyes on Jesus! (Hebrews 12:1-13)
17. Why Even Think of Turning Back? (Hebrews 12:14-29)
18. A Final “Word of Exhortation” (Hebrews 13:1-25)

 

Leadership: A Teaching/Discussion Resource

Leadership Series
Cordova Community Church, Cordova, TN (1998)

This material was presented in the form of 30 minutes of teaching followed by 30 minutes of discussion within small groups.

The new church plant was moving toward appointing their first shepherds. We probably moved too quickly as I think about it now, but this is the material we studied together. As with anything over ten years old, I would probably phrase things differently, emphasize different things, import some ideas that have become more significant to me (e.g., missional, eschatology, etc.), and rethink the way I handled gender in this series (e.g., I would definitely add Romans 16 into this discussion mix [some of that material is available in the series Women Serving God]and offer more alternatives for understanding 1 Timothy 2 [also available in that series). Nevertheless, it was a healthy study at the time and, for the most part, still is. Anyone who makes use of this, of course, will have to make their own judgments about what is helpful now and what is not…as even I would today.   

I have uploaded the nearly fifty pages of notes and discussion questions onto my Classes page for those who are interested.

The series had a theological and christocentric starting point.  Shepherds should shepherd as God shepherds; they should imitate the Good Shepherd in his humility, service and loving care. It moved through some of the classic texts on elders and ultimately ended discussing the relationship of evangelists (“located preachers”) and elders. 

Below is a list of the lessons:

1. Our Model: The Humiliation of God (Philippians 2:1-11).
2. The Divine Shepherd (Psalm 23)
3. God and His Shepherds (Ezekiel 34:1-22)
4. Jesus as the Good Shepherd (John 10:1-18)
5. Servant Leadership (Mark 10:32-45)
6. Jesus and His Shepherds (1 Peter 5:1-4)
7. Priorities in Leadership (Acts 6:1-7)
8. Giving Elders Perspective (Acts 20:25-35)
9. Gender and Leadership (1 Timothy 2:1-2, 8-15)
10. Respecting Leaders (1 Thessalonians 5:12-15)
11. Qualities of Leadership I (1 Timothy 3:1-7)
12. Following Leaders (Hebrews 13:7-8, 17, 24)
13. Qualities of Leadership II (Titus 1:5-9)
14. Elders as Caregivers (James 5:13-20)
15. Leaders as Equippers (Ephesians 4:7-16)
16. Evangelists (1 Timothy 4:6-16)
17. Elders and Evangelists (1 Timothy 5:17-22)

The Eschatology of James A. Harding

One of the more significant differences between the Tennessee and Texas Traditions is eschatology.

I use “eschatology” in the broad sense of the term. It is not simply about millennialism (though the Tennessee Tradition was generally premillennial). Rather, it involves how one understands the kingdom of God, how the kingdom relates to “worldly kingdoms” (civil governments), the dynamic nature of God’s actions in the world, and the nature of the new heavens and new earth (renewed earth theology).

James A. Harding strongly emphasized the eschatological nature of the Christian faith. At the 1999 Christian Scholar’s Conference, I presented a paper entitled “The Eschatological Structure of James A. Harding’s Theology” which I have now uploaded to my Academic page.

After a brief biography, the paper describes Harding’s understanding of spiritual conflict in God’s creation, civil government (which he shares with David Lipscomb) and millennialism. I conclude by stressing how his pneumatology fits the eschatological structure of his theology. The personal indwelling of the Spirit in the Christian is a central feature of Harding’s eschatological structure. It was a core value for him.

Of course, all of this was foreign to the Texas Tradition–no personal indwelling, no renewed earth eschatology, patriotic nationalism rather than sole allegiance to the kingdom of God, amillennialism (if any sense of millennialism at all), emphasis on the church rather than the kingdom, etc.  Here Tennessee and Texas were total opposites.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VII

Shaped by Gathering

That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers, saying, “I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise.”  Hebrews 2:11b-12 (quoting Psalm 22:22)

Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside. He taught in their synagogues, and everyone praised him. He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. And he stood up to read. Luke 4:14-16

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. John 5:1

Jesus habitually attended weekly Sabbath synagogue meetings (Mark 1:21; 6:2; Luke 4:16; 6:6; 13:10). The synagogue functioned as a community center throughout the week, but on the Sabbath it was a place of prayer, Scripture reading and teaching. Jesus participated in the weekly communal life of the people of God.

Jesus celebrated the mighty acts of God at the festivals in Jerusalem (John 2:13, 23; 5:1; 7:14; 10:22; 11:55). Jesus joined other believers for the priestly rituals of sacrifice, praise and prayer in the temple. He ate the Passover lamb, prayed in the temple, and discussed the kingdom of God with the people and their leaders. Jesus participated in the communal life of Israel.

In community—both at the local synagogue and at the national temple—Jesus communed with his brothers and sisters through word (teaching), table (sacrificial meals), prayer, and praise. In the temple he stood with his brothers and sisters to hear the reading of the Torah. He listened to the praises of the Levitical choir that reverberated through the temple courts. He watched the sacrificial rituals and ate with his community at God’s table. In the synagogue he repeated the benedictions, said the prayers and listed to the reading of Scripture. He was both student and teacher at the synagogue. Jesus entered the presence of God at the temple with thousands and prayed with tens and hundreds in the synagogue. Jesus worshipped the Father with his brothers and sisters.

This communal life rehearsed the mighty acts of God in the history of Israel. As a participant, Jesus was shaped by this hearing and rehearing of God’s redemptive work in history. Again and again Jesus renewed his mission, remembered his identity, and communed with fellow-believers as he stood for prayer and praise in the both the temple and synagogue.

This communal life was no mere addendum to his mission nor was it incidental to his faith. It was an intricate part of his spirituality. Participation in the larger community is an anticipation of the community that surrounds the throne of God. Indeed, it is more than an anticipation, it is a foretaste—an actual participation—in that heavenly assembly. Our earthly assemblies are participations in the heavenly reality; to gather here is to assemble there. To praise God in the midst of the congregation here is to stand before the face of God there.

Assembling before the face of God is not the by-product of God’s salvation or our solitude with him, it is actually the goal of God’s creative and redemptive work. God celebrates his victory over sin and death by gathering his people around him. When we assemble, we celebrate that victory with God.

This is the experience of Jesus himself. As he hung on the cross, he felt forsaken as the darkness enveloped him. God himself mourned as Jesus lamented, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” But embedded in the lament is also a hope, an expectation. Jesus hoped in God’s redemption; he knew God would deliver him. Jesus lament is the first verse of Psalm 22, and that lament also cries out for rescue and salvation (22:21). Jesus expects to again stand in the midst of the congregation of God’s people and praise the Father. He will declare the name of God to his brothers and sisters as he testifies about God’s redemption (22:22). In the assembly Jesus will celebrate his deliverance and the victory over sin and death.

This is one of the reasons I love to assemble with the saints. As part of a community, I remember that I am not alone.  Worshipping as community, Iam reminded of the story. And especially when I have a difficult week–whether with grief, or resentment, or anger, or tragic circumstances, or job hassles, or family strife–intentionally coming before the throne with others encourages me, empowers me, and ultimately transforms me.  The move from Friday to Sunday, the move from hurt to praise, the move from loneliness to community is what I experience when I assemble with my brothers and sisters; it is where I, like Jesus, join the communal anthem of praise and testify to the mighy works of God in the past, my present experience of them, and the coming of God’s kingdom.

The preacher of Hebrews encourages his hearers that Jesus is honored to call us his brothers and sisters and even now stands in the midst of the assembly to declare the praise of God. As we assemble and sing God’s praises, Jesus sings with us. He stands at the center of the assembly to declare the victory and praise the Father. When we assemble, we gather around him and follow him in celebration and praise. Wherever two or three are gathered together, Jesus is present with them (Matthew 18:20).

Questions for Discussion:

1. What did you find interesting about the habits of Jesus in terms of gathering with his larger community?
2. Why do you think this was important to Jesus? How did it shape him as a human being?
3. How does the use of Psalm 22 on the lips of Jesus and in Hebrews 2 give you a vision for what assembling (gathering) means?
4. What is your experience of assembly? What does it mean to you?
5. What is the function of the assembly for the people of God today?

Harding on Rebaptism: “Rank Sectarianism”

James A. Harding was nothing if not passionate. His rhetoric in print could rattle chains and in homilies evoke tears, especially in his own eyes. Below is a good example as Harding lowers a firm and severe judgment against the growing position of rebaptism among Churches of Christ. I have highlighted a few lines which stress how he understood that rebaptism as practiced by the Texas Tradition of the Firm Foundation was heretical, sectarian and presumptuous. As you can sense, this was no “minor” disagreement. Unfortunately, I do not know the identity of the “Brother Editor” who penned the letter to Harding.

Harding wrote:

A brother, who is also an editor, in a private letter, writes to us as follows:

“I like The Way and hope it will succeed, for the warfare that it is waging is a holy one. We cannot have too many papers, if they are edited by close students of the word of God, who will make them reflect the spirit of the Master with the teachings of him and his apostles. From the attention you give to rebaptists, I conclude that you must have plenty of them in your country. I cannot but regard some of their notions as dangerous heresies. For instance, to require a confession of faith in a person, is the foundation of all creeds. The Nicene creed was formulated so that no one holding Aryan views could confess it, and rebaptists wish a confession that no one holding that baptism is because of the remission can make. But what a catalogue of confessions we would have to require if we attempted to provide in this way against other errors that are, indeed, just as dangerous! Universalists, soul sleepers, mystics, etc., would all have to be provided against, and we would need to require a confession that no one holding these heresies can make. [In other words, we would need a creed! JMH]

“I am constrained to believe, though I have never yet expressed myself publicly on this phase of the subject, that the only question that we have a right to ask any baptized person who applies to us for membership in the church is the one that Paul asked in Acts 19:3: ‘Into what then were ye baptized?’ In other words: By whose authority were you baptized? Where you baptized into the baptism authorized by John, or the one authorized by Christ? So to-day I believe we may ask: Were you baptized because the Baptist Church, Methodist Church, or some other church commanded it, or were you baptized understanding that it was by the authority of Christ? And no man nor angel can show authority for asking more. The premises by which we would prove that we may ask more would prove too much, because they would require us to aim a blow in our confessions at every error in Christendom; and in order that we might be able to do the thing in good form, a creed would be indispensable. The rebaptism agitation is plainly a step back to sectarianism, though all unmeant, of course, by its advocates.”

Thus far speaks our brother editor, and he is undoubtedly correct. To demand that a man shall understand that baptism is in order to forgiveness of sins as a prerequisite to baptism, and to stop with that, is the perfection of inconsistency; and, worse still, it is the adoption of the principle that caused all the creeds in Christendom; it is rank sectarianism. As we have repeatedly shown in these columns, the very word (“eis”) that connects baptism with remission connects it also with another and a greater blessing—greater inasmuch as the whole is greater than any of its parts. For example, we are not only baptized eis remission, but (which is a much greater thing) we are baptized “eis the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”—“into Christ.” All the spiritual blessings (of which remission of sins is one only) are found in Christ, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Baptism is the marriage ceremony in which we are united to Christ, in which we receive the family name, the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, the name “God,” so that we are henceforth called “the sons of God;” then, having been thus brought into the divine family, we begin to receive the promises of God, the remission of sins, the gift of the Holy Spirit; the daily protection, guidance, and blessing of God; the constant readiness of God to hear and answer our prayers, and so on. Paul exhorts the Colossians to give thanks unto the Father, “who made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love; in whom we have our redemption, the forgiveness of our sins.” In baptism, he who believes with his whole heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, is made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light; he is delivered out of the power of darkness, and is translated into the kingdom of the Son of God’s love, in whom he receives the forgiveness of his sins: “For how many soever be the promises of God, in him is the yea: wherefore also through him is the Amen, unto the glory of God through us.” (2 Cor. 1:20.)

How any man can fail to see that it is inconsistent, unreasonable, and unscriptural to demand that the candidate for baptism must understand that baptism is for (eis) the remission of sins, and not also demand that he must understand that he is baptized into (eis) the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holy spirit, when the fact has been explained to him that the relationship in the two cases is expressed by the same word, “eis” (into), is one of the things hard for me to understand. I doubt if anything but the stupefying power of prejudice and party passion, of sectarian zeal, could also blind a man. I could as easily believe in infant membership, or sprinkling for baptism; and I believe that the prejudice which blinds the reimmerser, in this case, is as dense and as bitterly sectarian as that which beclouds the mind of the sprinkler or the baptizer of babies.

All that Christ demands of a man as a prerequisite to baptism is believe with the heart (intellect, affections, and will) that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. He who demands more than this demands too much. He is more particular than God; he presumes to require of him who would enter into the divine family more than God himself requires. He exalts himself above God by assuming that he can complete that which God, for some cause, left imperfect. He is too wise, too good. To such a one Solomon wisely says: “Be not righteous overmuch; neither make thyself overwise: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?”

Of the man who has not been immersed, but who desires to be, we have the right to ask: Do you believe with your heart that God raised Jesus from the dead, and do you confess him as your Lord? (See Rom. 10:9, 10.) And of the man who has been immersed, and who desires to work and worship in fellowship with us, we have a right to ask: Did you believe with your heart that God raised Jesus from the dead, and did you confess him as your Lord? Who cannot see that the same state of mind and heart that prepares a man for baptism at my hands prepares him to receive the institution at the hands of any other?

The trouble with those people whom Paul immersed again at Ephesus (Acts 19:1-7) was, they did not believe that God had raised Jesus from the dead, nor had they confessed him as their Lord. They had only been baptized into John’s baptism for (into) the remission of sins. They had been baptized into John instead of into Jesus. But the baptism of John had ceased on the earth, and that of Jesus had been commanded. So Paul said unto them: “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people, that they should believe on him who should come after him, that is, on Jesus.” And when they heard this, “they were baptized into the name of the Lord Jesus.” This is the only case of rebaptism in the New Testament. These people were baptized, in the first place, “for [eis] the remission of sins;” but they did not believe in the resurrection of Jesus, nor were they baptized into him. When we find people who have been immersed; but who did not believe in the resurrection of Jesus, and who did not take him as their Lord, we ought to instruct them in the way of the Lord more perfectly; and when they do so believe and confess, we ought to reimmerse them. But no man has a right to reimmerse another who was baptized believing in Jesus as the resurrected Son of God and confessing him as his Lord. He who does it is “righteous overmuch;” he has made himself “overwise;” and he is in danger of destruction. Solomon says to him, “Why shouldest thou destroy thyself?” and Paul exhorts us to learn “not to go beyond the things which are written.” It is as dangerous to add to as it is to take from the word of God; and every division that has arisen among the people of God, so far as I remember, began in adding to, rather than in taking from, the requirements of Christ.

James A. Harding, “What a Brother Editor Thinks, With Some Comments Thereon,” The Way 2 (July 1900) 98 (emphases are mine, JMH).

JMH Comments:

1. Harding is a stickler for Alexander Campbell’s fundamental insight that all that is required for immersion is a trust in Christ, that is, to believe that he is the Christ, the Son of God (this confession–involving the affections and will as well intellect–includes repentance). 
2. Harding recognizes that a biblical baptismal theology is fundamentally about entering into a relationship with the Father, Son and Spirit rather than exclusively focused on the remission of sins as the design of baptism. That relationship is a “greater blessing” than the remission of sins itself because it is more inclusive of all the benefits God gives to his people through baptism. And clearly understanding the meaning of being baptized “into” the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit is not something any one fully understands at their baptism. Instead of understanding, believers trustingly obey and the Father gives what he promised even when we do not understand what we are receiving.
3. Harding recognizes that “rebaptists” are fundamentally sectarian in several ways.  (a) They add to the requirements of the Lord for salvation and thus bind something that God did not bind which places them in the position of exalting themselves above God.  (b) They divide the body of Christ by presuming that some are not part of the body when they are.  (c) They substitute a creed for the confession. (d) Their zeal to identify themselves as distinct from the Baptists has blinded them to their own factionalism.
4. The disciples in Acts 19 were actually baptized for the remission of sins under John’s baptismal commission. They were rebaptized because they did not understand the confession of Jesus as Lord and giver of the Holy Spirit. If rebaptists are consistent, according to Harding, then anyone who did not understand that God gives his Spirit through baptism (as a promise attached to baptism) should also be rebaptized.  Baptism is as much for the giving of the Spirit as it is the remission of sins. Indeed, Harding would stress that the giving of the Spirit–entering into personal relationship with God through the Holy Spirit–is more fundamental and a greater blessing than the remission of sins itself.

Old JMH Articles: Five From the 1970s

This is quite daring, I must admit. Or, it might be rather idiotic. But in my quest to place my published writings on this webpage, I now turn to the 1970s. 

It is rather chilling and sometimes quite illuminating to actually read what I wrote thirty years ago (wow! I really am that old). It is chilling because I find myself cringing at my wording, sometimes my views and often at my insensitivity. It is illuminating because I see my own development and I also see the first inklings or seeds of thought that will develop with time. 

I submitted articles to a wide variety of papers in the 1970s.  Three are represented below and I will share others with you as I digitize them.  Once I have completed the task, I will take some time to reflect on my early rush to print and use myself as a case study on theological development. When the below articles were written I was 20-22 years old (my birthday is July 15, 1957).  Consequently, I will give myself a break for my weaknesses, immaturity and mistakes (including bad grammar….but that one has not changed much).

“Are We Born Sinners?,” Firm Foundation 95.10 (7 March 1978) 150, 155.

This article originated from an independent study with Rubel Shelly at Freed-Hardeman University on Calvinism. Since I was planning to attend a Calvinist seminary in the Fall of 1977, I wanted to study it and Rubel accomodated me.  This piece reflects the debater mentality I had at the time as I formulated my arguments in syllogistic form. But the major problem with the article is that I keep talking about “total depravity” when really my article is about “original guilt,” that is, are we born guilty of Adam’s sin.  I still reject original guilt, but I am unfair here with my use of the phrase “total depravity” and it is a superficial understanding of it.  I still like the argument from Ezekiel 18, however, and the distinction between “bear the sins of another” as a matter of consequence rather than guilt–sometimes it refers to consequences, sometimes it refers to guilt, and sometimes it refers to both.  It depends on the context.

“Creational Law,” Bible Herald 26.18 (1 September 1978) 283.

This article was a byproduct of my book with Bruce L. Morton entitled Woman’s Role in the Church (1978, noted in the article).  It was my attempt at recognizing a creational ethic–an ethic rooted in creation.  The article roots the permanency of marriage, male spiritual leadership and heterosexuality in creation.  Unfortunately, this is an article where my insensitivity and dogmatism shine brightly.  For example, instead of writing about male spiritual leadership I write about “female subordination” (I cringe even now as I type those two words together).  The article is, of course, much too simplistic. Yet, at the same time, I continue to believe there is such a thing as a creational ethic and such an ethic is normative as reflective of God’s intent for human beings to live as his imagers. 

“The Authority of Paul: Its Authenticity,” Firm Foundation 95.43 (24 October 24 1978) 676, 682.

This article arose out of discussions with some people close to me who tended to dismiss Paul, and it also was a byproduct of my contributions to book on the role of women.  I focus on the apostolic authority of Paul and the binding nature of his writings.  Here again I am much too simplistic. While I would still, of course, recognize Paul’s authority as an apostle and recognize that he exercises that authority through writing as well as word, the article has little or no sensititivity to the occasional and cultural horizon’s of Paul’s writings.  My use of 2 Corinthians 10-13 in this article, however, is a seed for my more developed understanding of Paul’s self-understanding as a prophet of the new covenant analogous to Jeremiah’s function as a prophet.

 ”Unto You Young Men: Treatise on Tongues,” World Evangelist 7.6 (1 January 1979) 17.

This article is a byproduct of my first book A Teenager Speaks on Spiritual Gifts (1977) which was written when I was 14-15 years old and published by Ira Y. Rice, Jr. Basil Overton, who was a good friend of my father’s, invited me to contribute something for the column “Unto You Young Men.”  So, I adapted something from the book. I argue–in good debating style once again–that the tongue speakers in Corinth understood their own speech. It was not “unknown” to them; they understood what they were praying and were edified by it.  Consequently, when contemporary tongue speakers claim they can neither understand nor control what they are saying, they betray the reality that they do not themselves have the same gift that the Corinthians had. Whether the argument remains effective, I will leave for you to decide.  On another day I will comment on my own development on this point which is not necessarily a denial of the claim that I am making in the article itself.  However, my insensitivity to those who experience tongue-speaking as edifying in their own lives is all too evident in the article.

“Baptism as Putting on Christ,” Firm Foundation 96.37 (11 September 1979) 582.

This article is a brief summary of a research paper I completed under Dr. Moises Silva at Westminster Theological Seminary when I took his course on Galatians (the second week of the class we had an exam to test our translation of Galatians!). It was a great class, and I–as a good Stone-Campbell traditionalist and polemicist–wrote my paper on Galatians 3:26-27.    It was a kind of “turning-point” paper for me because it opened some theological doors for me.  I began to see baptism as about more than the “remission of sins.” Rather, it participates in the instrumentality of faith for justification and sanctification.  “Putting on Christ” is a metaphor for both forensic and ethical aspects of salvation.  When I digitized this piece for presentation here, I was surprised to see how strongly I stressed the imputation of righteousness and how I had already adopted the Reformed language of “means” for baptismal theology (see my last paragraph).

Over the next few weeks I will be working on completing my “published”  articles for the website.  I have several more in the 1970s and 1980s, and then I hope to soon complete formatting my dissertation so that I might offer it here as well.

Whether this is of any benefit or not only you can judge for yourself.   Blessings, JMH

My “Contending for the Faith” Articles–More 1970s

Yes, it is true. I wrote articles for Contending for the Faith, edited by Ira Y. Rice, Jr., in the late 1970s.

Ira Y. Rice, Jr. was a good friend of my father Mark N. Hicks.

Ira would stay in our home, it seemed, at least once a year. He would either hold a meeting or at least speak on a Sunday evening or Wednesday evening when he visited. Sometimes he was raising money for Far East missions as he encouraged missions and evangelism, and at other times he was warning the church about the inroads of liberalism within the brotherhood. I rememberd him fondly because he would always leave a dollar in my shoes when he visited.

Ira published my first book A Teenager Speaks on Spiritual Gifts (1977). That is a story I will tell on another occasion perhaps but here I will only say that on one of his visits my father showed him the manuscript. I had written it for my Bible study group at the High School when I was 14-15. Ira asked if he could publish it–and what was a sixteen year old to say? Well, yes, of course! 

My relationship continued with Ira in the late 1970s. I invited him to hold a meeting with the NE Philadelphia Church of Christ (Philadelphia, PA) in Fall of 1978 (I think that was the date). We spent quite a bit of time together those few days, and I remember he warned me about attending Westminster Theological Seminary. I attended Westminster from 1977-1979 when I was 20-21 years old.

As I think back my camaraderie with Rice was a mixture of naivete, influence-seeking, and shared convictions at many levels. I was naive about the politics of the church. I sought a measure of influence and power within the “brotherhood”–and Rice was a clear power broker as well as a family friend. And I did share some basic theological viewpoints with him. The two articles below certainly make that clear.

Ultimately as my perspectives changed–though they changed rather slowly–we parted ways. When I began teaching at Harding University Graduate School of Religion in 1991, our fellowship was fully broken as he regarded the Graduate School as a troubler in Israel. One would only need to scan issues of Contending for the Faith to see his animosity toward the institution because he believed it was a threat to the church as he understood it.

Ira was passionate. He promoted missions in many local churches across the country. He advocated the desegregation of our educational institutions when it was anathema to many, rebuked Foy E. Wallace, Jr.’s racism (Rice was the young preacher who slept in the same bed with R. N. Hogan), and he wanted concrete congregational unity between white and black churches. In terms of racial progress, he was one of the few on the progressive edge. This is one of the dimensions that he admired about where my father preached for years in Alexandria, Virginia–it was a congregation of Koreans, African-Americans, Hispanics and Anglo-Saxons.

Ira certainly had his faults and sins as we all do. I cannot nor will I judge the man but neither will I sanction all that he did or said.  I may disagree with him theologically and with some of his strategies, but I can still appreciate the righteousness of some of his causes.

The two articles below indicate that at one time, however, I shared some of his most cherished convictions:  (1) the authority of elders and (2) the sanctification of the believer by the Spirit through the word alone.

“The Lordship of Elders,” Contending for the Faith 10.3 (March 1979) 9-10.

I originally submitted this piece to the Firm Foundation as a response to an editorial by Reuel Lemmons but he declined to publish it because there had been too many articles on the subject at the time. So, Ira published it. The article is negative in tone and intends to demonstrate that 1 Peter 5:1-3 does not undermine the idea that elders have “positional” (official) authority, that is, they have ultimate authority to make decisions about expedients for a congregation. The stress on “positional authority” is an idea that lingers from my book on women’s role in 1978 where it is argued that men have “positional authority” over women (I’m inwardly cringing as I type). Nevertheless, there are still some good exegetical points in the piece–”lording it over” is a form of tyranny.  Unfortunately, I did not have the wisdom or experience to see that tyranny is often expressed under the guise of “positional authority” over expedients.

“The Doctrine of Sanctification,” Contending for the Faith 9.11 (November 1978) 1, 3-6.

This is an unusally lengthy piece for Contending for the Faith. It was partly the result of a research paper at Westminster Theological Seminary but I turned it toward specific issues among Churches of Christ. After surveying Calvinists, Wesleyan and Pentecostal versions of sanctification, I offer my own “biblical” version. My understanding of sanctification, however, only involves the mediate work of the Holy Spirit through the word.  I deny the personal indwelling of the Holy Spirit, deny the “enabling” work of the Spirit in the life of the believer, and deny any direct work of the Spirit on the heart of the believer. Rather, since sanctification is through the word, the indwelling of the Spirit is also through the word.

As I read it again, I was struck with how much my “logic” jumps from one thought to another, from one text to another.  I draw conclusions from and string texts together in ways that are quite troubling to me now.  My hermeneutical models and practices were still quite emeshed in traditional proof-texting.

Also, I now recognize that my analysis of Wesleyanism in particular was quite superficial and at times just plain wrong (e.g., indwelling Spirit only comes through second work of grace in perfectionism….NOT!).  What I did have right, I think, is how the Pentecostal Holiness movement substituted the experience of Holy Spirit Baptism for Wesley’s Holy Spirit experience that enabled his version of Christian perfection.  While some of the historical details are correct, the conclusions I draw and the projections I place upon Calvinists, Wesleyans and Pentecostals are prejudiced by my objective in the piece.

There is more to come from the 1970s. I just have to find the time to digitize them.  And I know all my friends are waiting impatiently for them. 

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VIII

Enlisting Other Apprentices

After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth. And he said to him, “Follow me.” And leaving everything, he rose and followed him. Luke 5:27-28

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23

Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple…So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:25-27, 33

And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” Mark 1:17

He also told them this parable: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher.” Luke 6:40

Jesus, God’s apprentice in human life, apprenticed others. He mentored Peter, James, John and other disciples. As he followed God by imitating and imaging God in a truly human life, so Jesus called others to follow him.

“Follow me,” Jesus says. To follow him is to deny ourselves. To deny ourselves is to take up our cross and die to ourselves. To die to ourselves is to open ourselves to becoming like Jesus who is our life, our mentor for a new life. To become like Jesus is to give ourselves to others through mentoring others in this new life.

Our life in Jesus means imitating Jesus by entering into his life. We follow Jesus into the water and are baptized. We follow Jesus into the wilderness and seek solitude with God. We follow Jesus into intimacy with others and seek out friends with whom we can reveal our true selves. We follow Jesus by taking up his mission in the world. We follow Jesus by apprenticing others just as he apprenticed his own disciples.

The mission of Jesus depends on apprenticing others, mentoring others in the faith. We do not become disciples of Jesus in solitude or alone. We become disciples through community and apprenticeship. Others took us under their wing. They taught us, modeled life for us, invited us to walk with them and mentored us. The faith is embraced by others through disciples become like Jesus and apprenticing others in the Way.

“Fully trained” means fully equipped or qualified. When disciples complete their training, they are models of their teacher. When one completes an apprenticeship, they pursue their assigned tasks fully equipped to become like their teacher. They are equipped to be mentors as well. They tutor others whom they apprentice in the life of faith.

The call to discipleship—the invitation to participate in the life of God through Jesus—involves discipling others. Following Jesus entails inviting others to follow him as well.

Apprentices become practitioners, and practitioners become mentors.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Who has mentored you in the faith? Who was your first mentor? What qualities did they have? Who is your mentor now?
2. What does it mean to be “fully trained” in order to be like Jesus as a mentor?’
3. Whom do you mentor now? Do you feel qualified to mentor? Why or why not? If not, what do you lack to be a mentor?
4. How can the church encourage mentorship? How can it equip others for mentoring and encourage apprentices?

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts I

My interest has recently been rekindled in thinking about “breaking bread” in several ways.  Recently, I have received several emails asking questions, seeking more information and wanting deeper reflection on the exegetical as well as theological dimensions of what Luke describes as “breaking bread.” 

More specifically, in recent months I have read Justin Rogers’ piece in the 2008 Freed-Hardeman Lectureship book (pp. 418-426; get a pdf file of all the published lectureships from 1953-2009 here for $25).  Justin is currently a Ph.D. student at Hebrew Union College and serves the “Church of Christ that meets at Loveland Heights, Ohio” as Youth Minister. I do not know Justin but would enjoy getting to know him. His work is a substantial piece; it is a credible piece and deserves attention.  I shall give it some. 

What intrigued–and, to be honest, perlexed–me is a statement that “Hicks assumes that the breaking of bread is the Lord’s Supper without laboring to prove his case. Throughout the work, he seems to be more interested in a theological rather than a textual point of view” (p. 421).   While I do not recognize myself in that statement since I want to think theologically on the basis of exegesis and not without it, I will not quibble here about it other than to leave it to readers of my Come to the Table to assess whether Justin is correct or not. To the extent that he is (which I honestly don’t think is very much ), I will remedy this in a few posts in this series.

In this initial post I will summarize his argument and conclusions as fairly as I am able.

He correctly notes that describing a meal by “breaking bread” is rather novel in the first century as it only occurs three times in the Hebrew Bible (Isaiah 58:7; Jeremiah 16:7; Lamentations 4:4). It is a Hebraic expression as evidenced by its absence in Greek and Latin texts. Yet, as Rogers notes, Luke and other NT authors (Matthew, Mark, and Paul) used this peculiar phrase rather than the more normal “eat.” Indeed, I might add, Luke uses “eat bread” on several occasions (e.g., Luke 14:1). So it raises the interesting question of why Luke (in particular) uses “break” at times and “eat” at other times. Does he have something special or unique in mind when he uses “break bread”? I think so…but I digress.

Justin outlines three positions (p. 419): (1) Breaking bread is always a common meal; (2) Breaking bread is always the Lord’s Supper; and (3) Breaking bread may mean a common meal at times and the Lord’s Supper at other times. I would add a fourth possibility (4) Breaking bread is the Lord’s meal (it is both food–a meal–and embodies the special meaning of proclaiming the gospel; it is the Lord’s Supper as a meal with festive food). Justin recognizes this as a position at the bottom of page 420.

Concerning common meal (1), Justin notes that many read Acts 2:46 and the feedings in the Gospel (Matthew 14:19; 15:36; Mark 6:41; 8:6, 19; Luke 9:16) this way as well as the post-resurrection meal in Luke 24:35. But he responds that the “breaking bread” is certainly sometimes something more or different than a mere common meal as 1 Corinthians 10:16 evidences (there it is the bread by which we commune with the body of Christ). He does not think the evidence of the feedings is germane to the Lord’s Supper because “they occur before the crucifixion, and thus prior to the institution of the Lord’s Supper” (p. 420). [That is a piece of dispensational hermeneutics which I think is flawed.]

Concerning the identification (2), Justin does not think we can say “breaking bread” is always the Lord’s Supper, that is, the Supper as bread and wine, not as a meal. One of the primary reasons, it seems, is that 1 Corinthians 11 is “serious and somber” in mood while Acts 2:46 is “rather joyous and jubilant” (p. 421). This reflects, as Justin notes, the distinction Lietzmann made between the “Jerusalem” type of supper and the “Pauline” type of supper. [Oscar Cullmann, I believe, effectively countered this absolute distinction in his Essays on the Lord's Supper, but that is for another time.]

But Justin’s denial of “always” for (2)  is rooted in further details. First, the absence of wine in the phrase “breaking bread” indicates that it was not probably part of the practice of these meals due to its expense [but it was part of the Passover where Jesus broke bread]. Thus, the daily breaking of bread is probably not the Lord’s Supper which needs wine. Second, if “breaking bread” was the technical term for the Lord’s Supper, “why did thanksgiving (eucharistia) become the primary technical term for the Supper in the early second century?” (p. 422). [Primary, yes, but certainly not the only technical phrase used to describe it and "breaking bread" was one that was used.] Third, why would starving sailors “celebrate the Lord’s Supper” when they had not eaten for fourteen days in Acts 27:33-38? [Perhaps because it was a meal.]

Concerning the “breaking of bread as Both Common Meal and the Lord’s Supper” (3), sometimes breaking bread is the Lord’s Supper and sometimes it is a common meal; only context can determine. Here Justin describes his own perspective by looking at each text in Acts. Acts 2:42 is “ambiguous, and any reference to the Lord’s Supper must be imposed on it” (p. 422) since the definitive description “the bread” is not determinative as illustrated by the article in Luke 24:35 also. [This is an important point often overlooked by those who wish to make the article in 2:42 the critical point, and many of those advocates would ignore the article in Acts 20:11 as well and think it a common meal rather than the Lord's Supper.]  Acts 2:46 is “also ambiguous” since “food” does not necessarily entail a meal (e.g., Justin Martyr refers to the Eucharistic bread as “food”). So, both Acts 2 texts are ambiguous and do “not leave us with enough evidence to draw a firm conclusion” (p. 423). [I find this a courageous conclusion in a FHU lectureship book, and I admire Justin's willingess to go where the evidence leads him.]

Acts 20:7, however, is often regarded as the Lord’s Supper “because the text specifically mentions the ‘first day of the week’” but we also know early Christians ate the Agape meal on Sundays too (p. 423). Even the custom of gathering on the first day of the week to eat a meal was an established custom for a common meal, according to Justin, as seen in Luke 24:41-43; John 20:19, 26. So, perhaps the church at Troas come together to simply “eat a common meal with their beloved Paul” (p. 424). Justin, however, does think Acts 20:7 is the Lord’s Supper eaten on Sunday but a “firm conclusion is questionable” (p. 425). [Again, an amazingly courageous and honest statement.]

So, his conclusion is that breaking bread is not always the Lord’s Supper and was not a “technical term for the Supper” (contra my book). The prhase sometimes describes the Lord’s Supper and sometimes a meal, but never both at the same time. “Ultimately,” he writes, “to achieve clarity, we must sumon the voices of the early second century fathers, who observed the Lord’s Supper on Sunday, and referrred to the meal as the Eucharist” (p. 425).

Consequently, it is most likely that Acts 20:7, 11 refer to the Lord’s Supper but “to prove from the Bible alone that this is the case is difficult. Any Eucharsitic reading of the phrase ‘breaking bread’ must be considered theoretical” (p. 425, emphases mine). History must decide. “The uniform practice of celebrating the Supper on Sunday alone was likely a tradition with the direct stamp of apostolic approval. It is thus entirely consistent with our evidence to conclude that at least Acts 20:7, 11 is an example of the Lord’s Supper being described as ‘the breaking of bread’” (p. 426).

In appreciation, I do honor Justin’s attention to the sources–both historical and biblical. It is evident that he has read significantly in the literature. His open investigation is welcome and he is not boxed in by traditional interpretation (as his reading of Acts 2:42 and 2:46 illustrate). So, I truly appreciate the article.

However, I do think it flawed. I will offer details in coming posts (I don’t know how many at this time). But permit me to introduce some broad perspectives at this point.

1. At one level, I do not think he sufficiently accounts for the narratival context of Luke’s language. Reading Luke as a narrative whole with a plot thread about “breaking bread” is more holistic and contextual than the atmoistic dissection of specific texts. (I will say more about this in my next post).
2. At another level, his reliance on the second century (with an astounding statement–though it may be true–that the “Bible alone” is not sufficient to establish with certainty a Sunday only practice of the Lord’s Supper) is flawed, that is, the second century was not “Sunday alone” and the early second century was meal-based. (But more on that later).
3. At another level, his basic assumption seems to be–ruled out presuppositionally it appears to me, but I may be wrong–that “breaking of bread” could never refer to the Lord’s Supper as a meal with bread, wine and food because the Lord’s Supper is only bread and wine. This presupposition seems to lurk underneath his argument about the meaning of specific texts (e.g., the comment about Acts 27 assumes that breaking bread could not be the Lord’s Supper because they were hungry and needed a meal).

Nevertheless, I welcome the dialogue and I appreciate his work. It is thorough in many ways–as much as space would permit in a crowded lectureship book–and it surveys some of the ground quite nicely. It deserves engagement which I am happy to do in a few posts to come.

Thanks for your work, brother Rogers. It is a welcome addition to the discussion.

Old JMH Articles: 1970s Gospel Advocate

 With these below and my previous posts (1970s articles and Contending for the Faith articles), I collected my twelve articles that were published from 1977-1979 when I was 20-22 years old.   In a future post I will reflect on my theological journey through those years (maybe ).

“Holy Spirit Baptism in 1 Corinthians 12:13?” Gospel Advocate 119 (October 27, 1977) 679-80.

 I set up a false dilemma in this article: either believe the Pentecotal version of Holy Spirit Baptism (a post-conversion experience including speaking in tongues) or accept that 1 Corinthians 12:13 is submission to water baptism as taught by the Holy Spirit without any direct connection to the Spirit. This article clearly indicates that I stilled lived in the world of “word only” and had a fundamental adversion to any direct work of the Spirit. I failed to see that the water and Spirit could both be elements in one baptism and that the experience of the Spirit is not merely cognitive (“through the word”).

“Equal, But Subordinate,” Gospel Advocate 120 (June 29, 1978) 405, 410.

This is a polemical piece directed against a statement made by Norman Parks who stated subordination entailed inferiority.  In response I parallel the relationship between the Father and the Son to the relationship of male and female based on 1 Corinthians 11:3. While the Father and Son are equal in essence (both divinitas), the Son is “subordinate” to the Father in terms of subsistence (filiation; he is a Son) and operation (submits to the Father’s direction in redemptive history). Likewise, so I argue, while male and female are equal in essence (both humanitas), women are “subordinate” to men in their function and role in the family and church (but not world?, I would ask now).  The parallel is too simplistically drawn and does not take account of incarnational Christology.

“Did He Understand?” Gospel Advocate 120 (November 16, 1978) 727.

This article is the same as the one published in the World Evangelist 7.6 (1 January 1979) 17.  The link takes you to the World Evangelist printing.  I argue–in good debating style–that the tongue speakers in Corinth understood their own speech. It was not “unknown” to them; they understood what they were praying and were edified by it.  Consequently, when contemporary tongue speakers claim they can neither understand nor control what they are saying, they betray the reality that they do not themselves have the same gift that the Corinthians had. Whether the argument remains effective, I will leave for you to decide.  On another day I will comment on my own development on this point which is not necessarily a denial of the claim that I am making in the article itself.  However, my insensitivity to those who experience tongue-speaking as edifying in their own lives is all too evident in the article.

“Good, Better, Best,” Gospel Advocate 121 (March 29, 1979) 196.

This is the article that I like the best of all that I wrote in the 1970s though it still has its flaws. It reflects that I was already thinking eschatologically though it did not necessarily affect the structure of my theology as yet.  While life here is abundant in Christ (“good”), to die is gain because to be with Christ is “better” than the present. Yet, the “best” life is the resurrected life. The article is a theology of “body” (soma)–present physical body, the disembodied intermediate state, and the furture resurrection body.  As I read it today, I fear that I underplay present life where God locates us and values us, and I fear that the article may depend too much on “living in the future” rather than being the body of Christ in the present.

“We Do Not Well!” Gospel Advocate 121 (October 18, 1979) 644, 648.

This article arose from one of my homilies. It is probably a good example of how I preached in the late 1970s (but hopefully too typical ). I took a text, and then used the text to scold the congregation about a point that is not really the point of the text. The use of the second greatest commandment is interesting though forced, but the tone and “superior” attitude I see in myself is distasteful and disturbing. The topic is evangelism based on 2 Kings 7:9.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts II: Narratival Context

My first post in this series summarized and lightly critiqued a piece by Justin Rogers at the FHU lectureship in 2008. Here I turn my attention to the flow of Luke’s narrative which offers us the “big picture.” With Justin I recognize some level of ambiguity, especially in terms of the specific texts themselves. However, I believe that a narrative approach illuminates Luke’s plot in a way that reduces that ambiguity. If we suspend the presuppositions that the Lord’s Supper is only bread and wine, only on Sunday and closed to everyone but believers, I think the narrative speaks with a fairly clear voice.

While each occasion of “breaking bread” must be considered in the context of its specific pericope, the larger–and perhaps more formative as it should shape how we read each speicific text–context is Luke’s whole two-volume narrative.  This is my starting point. What is the narrative context, plot and meaning of “breaking of bread” in the Luke-Acts narrative? In other words, what is the narrative’s big picture?

Of course, there is a reciprocal relationship between a specific pericope and the larger narrative. One will contextualize the other. At the same time, the narrative develops its plot and chooses its words in order to connect the whole with the part. Consequently, as we read something late in the narrative we should we aware that the author may have alerted us to its meaning and function by something earlier in the narrative.  Or, another way of putting that, the narrative plot developed in the previous narrative is a lens through which we read the remaing narrative. Or, more specifically, can it be that the Gospel of Luke is the lens through which we read the history in Acts?  I think so. 

General Observations

Breaking bread is a rather rare Hebraic expression. It is not found in ancient Greek and Latin texts and it only appears  three times (Isaiah 58:7; Jeremiah 16:7; Lamentations 4:4).  It probably derives from the first ritual act of a meal–the act of blessing or thanksgiving (analogous to “saying grace” but with some concrete act regarding the food).  Consequently, “breaking bread” is a part for the whole; it is a reference to the whole meal by noting the first act of the meal itself.

Luke distinguishes between “eat bread” (Luke 7:33; 14:1, 15) and “break bread.”  Why does Luke use this different language? It may be stylistic, but it may also reflect some theological intentionality. That is, Luke intends to convey something with “breaking bread” that is more Christological, more Messianic. This is apparent, it seems to me, when “breaking bread” is only used in redemptive contexts–they are meals pregnant with soteriological meaning.

Luke uses “bread” as a metaphor for “food” (cf. Luke 4:3; 9:3; 11:3, 11; 15:17). To “break bread,” then, for Luke is to eat a meal. The only time Luke uses “bread” in Acts is in the phrase ”breaking bread.” In Acts he focuses on this meal that the new community of disciples ate together which, in the narrative plot of Luke-Acts, is rooted in the Messianic table of Jesus.

The Breaking Bread Texts

The fourfold formula occurs in three of the six pericopes in Luke’s narrative–all of them in his Gospel:  (1) he took or taking (a from of lambano), (2)  he blessed (eulogeo) or gave thanks (eucharisteo), (3) he broke (katakleo, klao, klasis), and (4) gave (didomi). The fourfold expression is repeated in liturgical literature in the second and third centuries as part of the words of institution and liturgically re-enacted.

Below are the “breaking bread” texts in the literal translation of the 1901 ASV:

• Luke 9:16 – “And he took (labon) the five loaves and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed (eulogesen) them, and brake (kateklasen); and gave (edidou) to the disciples to set before the multitude.”
• Luke 22:19 – “And he took (labon) bread, and when he had given thanks (eucharistesas), he brake (eklasen) it, and gave (edoken) to them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.”
• Luke 24:30 –  ”And it came to pass, when he had sat down with them to meat, he took (labon) the bread and blessed (eulogesen); and breaking (klasas) it he gave (epedidou) to them.”
• Luke 24:35 – “And they rehearsed the things that happened in the way, and how he was known of them in the breaking (klasei) of the bread.”
• Acts 2:42 – “And they continued stedfastly in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking (klasei) of [the] bread and the prayers.”
• Acts 2:46 – ” And day by day, continuing stedfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking (klontes) bread at home, they took (metelambanon) their food (trophes) with gladness and singleness of heart,”
• Acts 20:7 – “And upon the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break (klasai)  [the] bread, Paul discoursed with them, intending to depart on the morrow; and prolonged his speech until midnight.”
• Acts 20:11 – “And when he was gone up, and had broken (klasas) the bread, and eaten (geusamenos), and had talked with them a long while, even till break of day, so he departed.”
• Acts 27:35-38 – “And when he had said this, and had taken (labon) bread, he gave thanks (eucharistesen) to God in the presence of all; and he brake (klasas) it, and began to eat (esthiein). Then were they all of good cheer, and themselves also took (proseabonto) food (trophes). And we were in all in the ship two hundred threescore and sixteen souls. And when they had eaten enough (trophes), they lightened the ship, throwing out the wheat into the sea.”

I think it is significant that the fourfold formula appears in the Gospel but does not appear in Acts. I suggest that the Acts usage of “breaking bread” depends on the Gospel. Since Luke has already narrated the theological meaning of “breaking bread” through the feeding in the wilderness, the Passover meal and the post-resurrection meals, there is no need to repeat that in Acts.  It is assumed.

When we encounter “breaking bread” in Acts 2:42 and throughout the Acts narrative, Luke intends us to use theological lens he gave us in his Gospel for understanding what that is.  It does not appear in Acts ex nihilo; rather, it appears out of the matrix of what Luke did with that language in the significant Messianic contexts of Luke 9, 22, and 24.

It is analogous to reading the triology Lord of the Rings.  While the first volume The Fellowship of the Ring gives lots of attention to the Hobbits’ Shire, the second volume–Two Towers–does not.  Why? It is assumed that the reader of the second volume already understands the significance of the Shire from the first volume. Consequently, Tolkien can use “Shire” in the second volume without explanation.

I think this is what Luke does.  He narrates the theological significance of “breaking bread” in his Gospel, but only uses shorthand in Acts. He simply refers to the “breaking of bread” with the confidence that the reader should understand its meaning from his Gospel.

The Plot Line

So, what is the narrative plot line regarding “breaking bread”? The below chart pictures the flow itself as the Gospel and Acts are hinged by the significant theological statement that Jesus is revealed in the Breaking of the Bread (Luke 24:35). This is the theological meaning of breaking bread. In this meal the risen Christ is recognized, revealed, made known, seen or experienced.

• Luke 9:  A Messianic Event–Feeding Israel in the Wilderness
  • Luke 22: A Messianic Event–The Passover Fulfilled
    • Luke 24: A Messianic Event–A Resurrection Meal

Luke 24:35–Hinge Text: Jesus is Revealed in the Breaking of the Bread

• Acts 2: Messianic Community Devoted to the Breaking of Bread
  • Acts 20: Messianic Community Gathered to Break Bread
    • Acts 27: Messianic Community Breaks Bread with Others for Hope

The Gospel narrates the meaning in terms of Jesus’ Messianic function in Luke 9. He is the Christ; he feeds his people manna in the wilderness. He serves his people and redeems their hunger, which is symbolic of much more than mere physical hunger. The Gospel narrates the Passover meal in which Jesus announces the coming kingdom–the next time he eats and drinks with them at Passover it will be in the kingdom of God. The “breaking of bread” is the experience of Passover in the kingdom of God.  The Gospel narrates the post-resurrection meals with the disciples. They eat and drink with the risen Christ.  Significantly, Jesus is the host of each of these meals; he breaks the bread and gives thanks. These are the only times he actually hosts in the Gospel.

Acts continues the story but with abbreviated language.  The new Messianic community devotes itself to breaking bread, that is, eating with the risen Christ in community. Acts 2 pictures a community daily gathering to break bread. Acts 20 is the experience of the risen Christ through the rising of Eutyches. When the disciples came together to break bread on the first day of the week, they experienced resurrection.  Acts 27 is a parable or symbolic of the mission of Christ to include the Gentiles as the sailors and soldiers are invited to share in the breaking of bread as an assurance of their salvation from death in the coming shipwreck.

 The hinge between the Gospel and Acts is Luke 24:35.  It announces what “breaking bread” does–it reveals the living Christ; it is an experience of the living Christ. In each of the pericopes–Luke 9, 22, 24; Acts 2, 20, 27–God gives life both in the present and with hope for the future.

Reflections

First, every occasion for “breaking bread” was hopeful and redemptive; God was present in a redemptive way.

• Luke 9: the Messiah feeds his hungry people in the wilderness.
• Luke 22: the Messiah  announces the coming of the kingdom with eating and drinking at the Passover, anticipating eating and drinking with them in the future kindom.
• Luke 24: the resurrected Messiah breaks bread and eats with his disciples as he commissions them to take up his mission.
• Acts 2: the newly baptized community is devoted to the breaking of bread as they eat together every day with joy and praise
• Acts 20: the community gathered to break bread and celebrated the resurrection of Jesus in the presence of the resurrected Eutyches.
• Acts 27: sailors, soldiers and prisoners break bread in the hope of salvation from death in the coming shipwreck.

Second, every occasion involves food or a meal.

• Luke 9: after the breaking of bread, it is a meal of bread and fish.
• Luke 22: after the breaking of bread, it is a Passover meal.
• Luke 24: they sat down to eat a meal which began with the breaking of bread
• Act 2: breaking bread involved eating food (trophes).
• Acts 20: breaking bread involved eating (literally, tasting) food.
• Acts 27: breaking bread involved eathing foor (trophes).

It seems to me, at least, that we should presume that Luke uses his language consistently, that is, with the same meaning, unless he gives us some clear reason to think otherwise. Having set up the meaning of “breaking bread” in his Gospel, he assumes it in the Acts of the Apostles.  The presumption is that he uses the language with the same meaning throughout.  Only the specific and narrow context of the Acts passages could contravene the narrative’s presumption.  Consequently, we must look closely at each text in coming posts. In future posts I will take up the specific texts and their contexts.  More to come….

Children at the Table

Given a couple of recent comments on my previous post by Terrell Lee and Johnny Melton, I have interrupted my series on “Breaking Bread” to offer the below piece. This brief–very brief–statement is something I wrote for a children’s minister who requested a theological rationale for children participating in communion. The following is not a full argument or statement of the case, but is suggestive of the themes that shape the inclusion of children at the table. In Come to the Table I suggested but did not emphasize this point. I did not want that point to distract from the main thrust of the book, that is, to revision the Lord’s Supper as table rather than altar.

I recognize that this is a controversial question and my position is a minority one in the history of Christianity except that the Orthodox Church has always included children and some Reformed streams have practiced it as well. I never make this a focus of my teaching on the Lord’s Supper and I do not push the question in any way. But, when asked, I respond with my opinion as I think appropriate.  It is not a “pressing topic” for me, but I do believe parents should not be hindered or rebuked when they invite their children to eat and drink with them at the table.

Here is the piece I have shared with children’s ministers when requested.

 

Children at the Table

The Lord’s Supper is a table event; a meal which the community of faith shares. The community invites all to share the meal with them as a witness to the truth and meaning of the gospel. All are invited; none but the rebellious are barred.

The Supper was originally experienced in the context of a meal—it was a Supper. Neither guests nor children would have been excluded from that meal. It was for everyone as witness to the grace of God, which is for everyone.

Children, in particular, are invited to the table because they belong to the kingdom. They are kingdom people. They are on the journey of faith, and the Supper will shape the growth and development of that faith. The Supper testifies to the faithfulness and love of God, and when children eat, they experience that faithfulness and love at the table.

The table, then, is a learning event for children. They hear the story of the gospel and participate in the elements, which bear witness to the gospel. They experience the gospel through eating and drinking. This prepares their heart for discipleship, encourages the development of their faith, and assures them of God’s love on their journey.

Baptism is where our children commit themselves to the way of the cross as disciples of Jesus. Baptism is an individual act of faith-commitment that the community witnesses and celebrates. The table is where children learn about Jesus and experience his love. The table is family time; it is a communal event. As part of the family—as persons on the journey of faith—they should sit at the table with the rest of the community.

It is generally unwise to send children to bed without their supper, and it is potentially a hindrance to their faith to exclude them from the table in the family of God.

Breaking Bread in Luke Acts III: Acts 2:41-47

Acts 2:41-47 has long been a focus of discussion in the history of the church, especially in the Anabaptist as well Bristish dissenter traditions. It is particularly important among “restorationist” streams for obvious reasons.

My interest in this post is focused on the meaning of “breaking of bread” in this narrative description of the early Christian community in Jerusalem. I will first offer some summary arguments for my own understanding of the text and then respond to common objections to that understanding.

Essentially, I believe that Luke has no formal or theological distinction between meal and what Paul calls the Lord’s Supper or Lord’s Table. For Luke (and Paul too, I think) the meal is the Lord’s Supper and the Lord’s Supper is the meal. “Breaking Bread” is his name for this, and this is what he is assuming by the language in Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:46 which are referencing the same reality–a communal meal with the risen Christ.

Text (ASV Adjusted to Emphasize the Imperfect Tense with Italics)

“They then that received his word were baptized: and there were added unto them in that day about three thousand souls. And they [were continuing] stedfastly in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the prayers. And fear [was coming] upon every soul: and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles. And all that believed were together, and [were having] all things common; and they [were selling] their possessions and goods, and [were parting] them to all, according as any man [was having] need. And day by day, continuing stedfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread at home, they [were taking] their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people. And the Lord [was adding] to them day by day those that were saved.”

The Meaning of Breaking Bread in Acts 2

Argument 1: Luke says they continued in the breaking of bread (2:42), and then he says they broke bread (2:46). The unity of the text (Acts 2:42-47) is sustained by the repeated use of the imperfect tense (10x). The disciples were constantly devoted to the acts in Acts 2:42. Verbs in the imperfect tense are then repeated throughout 2:42-47 as a way of rooting those actions in the statement of Acts 2:42. Acts 2:42 says they were devoted to “X” and Acts 2:43-47 says they did “X.”  They were devoted to breaking bread (Acts 2:42) and they did it (Acts 2:46). The unity of the text is stressed by the use of the imperfect verbs to describe the nascent Christian community in Jerusalem.

Argument 2: The language of “breaking bread” is dependent upon the Gospel of Luke. At the very least, it is the language that takes us back to Luke 22 and Luke 24. Readers of Acts would have recognized the intratextual and narratival meaning “breaking bread” as eating in the presence of the living Christ who is the host. “Breaking bread” in Acts is, at least, a continuation of the post-resurrection meals with Jesus in Luke 24 and the meal promised by Jesus in Luke 22.

Argument 3: The narrative reading of Acts 2 itself counts against distinguishing them. It is rather strange to use the same words to describe two different actions within the space of five verses in a single paragraph (especially when these verses are themselves summary descriptions) when we are talking about the same people, in the same tradition (Christian), in the same city, during the same time, continuing the same actions to which the community was devoted. The prima facie meaning is the identification of the two references to breaking bread in Acts 2:42 and 2:46. There would need to be a significant and obvious distinction within the paragraph itself to overturn the compelling unity of the paragraph which identifies them.

Argument 4: The repetition of breaking bread in Acts 2:46 from Acts 2:42 parallels the repetition of all aspects of Acts 2:42 in the space of these five verses. The “fellowship” (koinonia) of Acts 2:42 is the same as holding all things in “common” (koina) in 2:44. The teaching of the apostles of Acts 2:42 is what the disciples gathered in the temple heard (cf. Acts 5:42) and their leadership is confirmed or illustrated by their miracles (Acts 2:43). Prayers, of course, were also offered in the temple (Acts 3:1ff) and probably part of “praising God” in 2:47. Breaking bread in Acts 2:46, then, is naturally connected with Acts 2:42 as are other parts of Acts 2:42 in Acts 2:43-47.

Objections to the Above

Objection One: Since breaking bread in Acts 2:46 includes the consumption of food (trophes), it most likely refers to a common meal rather than the Lord’s Supper.

This assumes that “eating food” cannot refer to the Lord’s Supper, that is, it assumes the Lord’s Supper is not a meal. I think this argument imports a presupposition rather than letting the text speak for itself. It seems to me that the opposite is true, that is, the Lord’s Supper is a “supper” (a meal) and thus entails the consumption of food (trophes). The phrase “breaking bread” refers to the first act of a meal–the act that inaugurates the meal. Thus, even without the term food (trophes) “breaking bread” is the act that introduces the eating of food.

Objection 2: “Breaking bread” in Acts 2:42 uses the article with bread; it is the breaking of “the bread.” This may indicate that it is special bread or bread for a special purpose such as in the Lord’s Supper. Since the article is missing in Acts 2:46, Luke seems to introduce a distinction between the two. Without the article, “bread” refers to a common meal and not the Lord’s Supper.

Actually, this more a matter of Luke’s style and grammar than theological distinction. Acts 20:7 is breaking bread without the article, but in Acts 20:11 “breaking bread” has the article. I submit that they both refer to the same thing and not two different things. They came together to break bread and they did. Interestingly some believe that 20:11 (with the article) refers to a common meal while Acts 20:7 refers to the Lord’s Supper (without the article) while at the same time suggesting that Acts 2:46 (without the article) is a common meal while Acts 2:42 (with the article) is the Lord’s Supper. In other words, “the bread” in Acts 20 is a common meal but “the bread” in Acts 2 is the Lord’s Supper but “bread” (without the article) in Acts 2 is a common meal while “bread” (without the article) in Acts 20 is the Lord’s Supper. There is no consistent way to read whether “breaking bread” is a common meal or the Lord’s Supper based on the use of the article with bread. Further, both uses of “breading bread” in Luke 24:30, 35 refer to the breaking of “the bread.” Clearly this was not “special bread” but the beginning of a meal–but a meal with Jesus and thus “breaking bread” for Luke. The article does not make a theological or conceptual distinction but rather serves a grammatical or stylistic function.

Objection 3: Whereas Acts 2:42 appears to be a list of activities in a religious service or a liturgical description, Acts 2:46 describes what takes place in a home that does not appear to be liturgical in character.

Though Acts 2:42 has often be interpreted liturgically–and it may indeed be applied that way, it does not function liturgically in the context. Rather, Acts 2:42 is a summary that is fleshed out in Acts 2:43-47. For example, we learn that fellowship (koinonia) in Acts 2:42 includes shared resources as the community had everything in common (koina). Their sharing of resources was not only in a liturgy but part of their lifestyle. Further, Acts 2:46 describes a community that assembles in the temple and gathers in homes “praising God.” Home was the place of liturgical action as well as the temple for early Christians.

Objection 4:  “Daily” modifes only the temple assemblies and not the home gatherings in Acts 2:46.

This is quite dubious grammatically. “Daily” (kath’ hermeran) stands at the head of the sentence in Acts 2:46 so that it is in the most natural place to modify both participles (“continuing in the temple” and “breaking bread”). If “daily” was understood as only modifying “continuing,” then the more natural construction would be (I will use English wording but in Greek word order): “continuing te (a particle which has a joining function) daily together in the temple, breaking te at home bread.” If “daily” refered only to the temple, it would come after the te and not at the head of the whole sentence. The NRSV makes this clear: “day by day continuing to meet in the temple courts, breaking bread from house to house.”

Further, the te…te structure has the significance of “both…and.” The point is that “daily, both continuing together in the temple and breaking bread at home, they were eating food with joy and unity.”  They celebrated the new age by daily gathering in the temple and homes.  They heard the apostles teach and prayed the prayers in the temple, but they broke bread in their homes. In this way they devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and the fellowship, the breaking of the bread and the prayers. For early Jerusalem church pictured here this was a daily teaching (temple) and fellowship (home), and the latter included the breaking of bread.

Objection 5: If Acts 2:46 refers to a daily breaking of bread and the breaking of bread is the Lord’s Supper, then this contradicts Luke’s broader context where disciples met for the purpose of breaking bread on the first day of the week in Acts 20:7. It appears that they were not breaking bread daily in Troas because Paul waited there seven days to break bread with the disciples. If another day was acceptable other than the first day of the week, then Paul could have called a special Thursday (or any other day) meeting for the purpose of breaking bread.

The assumption is that Paul stayed in Troas in order to wait to eat with the disciples. He may have stayed seven days because the boat did not leave till then. But this is speculative. I don’t have a problem with saying that the Troas disciples met only on the first day of the week to break bread but we must recognize that the “only” is an inference and not explicitly stated in the text. Daily breaking of bread was not a requirement but one way of eating as often as one desired. Weekly breaking bread was also quite acceptable  (perhaps even the normal practice across the churches) and Paul accomodated to the practice of the church at Troas. Indeed, we don’t know whether there were other meetings. Luke is concerned about this particular meeting because it includes a resurrection story. It is a concrete experience of the meaning of the supper itself–to eat with the resurrected one.

Objection 6: Acts 2:46 does not mention wine. We may presume that daily meals in Jersualem did not use wine which was only used on festive occasions due to its expense. Consequently, it is unreasonable to assume that that the daily breaking of bread in Acts 2:46 refers to the Lord’s Supper where bread and wine are both present because the expense would have been excessive.

I would suggest an alternative reading. Many of these new believers in Acts 2 were pilgrims who had come to celebrate Pentecost. This celebration included eating fellowship offerings together throughout the week which would have included wine since it was a festive gathering (Leviticus 23:15-21). The experience of “daily” meals–festive meals of thanksgiving through the breaking of bread–was part of the festive atmosphere. The pilgrims understood that Pentecost was the experience of the gracious outpouring of God’s Spirit, the renewal of Israel, and they celebrated by eating “daily” in their homes in small groups. I would suggest that this was not a perpetual ordinance in the Jerusalem church. Rather, it lasted perhaps as long as the Pentecost festival lasted or as long as the pilgrims were in town. Whatever the case may be, the “daily” eating together fits the festive context of Pentecost. How long it lasted is, of course, unknown, but it such daily festive meals make sense in the context of Pentecost.

Objection 7: Neither Acts 2:42 or 2:46 are references to the Lord’s Supper because it only refers to the breaking of bread. There is no mention of wine which is necessary for the Lord’s Supper.

I have occasionally read this objection in scholarly literature but I always thought it was rather strange. If “breaking bread” refers to the initiating act of a meal, then it is a metaphor for the whole meal. Luke does not have to tell us everything they ate or drank in order to use this phrase for a meal. The phrase itself means “the meal.” The specific absence of wine is not significant, especially in the light of the phrase’s narrative function. A meal includes its drink whether specified or not.

Conclusion

This is a rather brief account of some specific hermeneutical and exegetical details.  But I hope it is sufficient to exegetically ground my conclusion that the breaking of bread in Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:46 is both a meal and the Lord’s Supper. The two are one in the same for Luke.  Breaking bread is a meal in honor of and eating with the risen Christ.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts V: Acts 27

Acts 27:35 is the last use of “breaking bread” in Acts.There is a broad consensus in the history of interpretation that this text cannot refer to the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper. The reasons have generally been two-fold.  (1) The meal involves the consumption of “food” (trophes) and therefore it cannot be the Lord’s Supper because the Lord’s Supper is not a meal.  (2) Paul invites unbelievers to participate in this meal and therefore it cannot be the Lord’s Supper because it is exclusively for baptized believers.

Both of those reasons are imported into the Luke-Acts narrative. They are presuppositions that limit the meaning of Luke’s text.  (1) is problematic because Luke has already used the language of eating a meal and food with prior references to “breaking bread” (cf. Acts 2:46 and 20:11). Extending the breaking bread language back into the narrative of Luke’s Gospel, it is clearly a meal every time it is used there. In fact, we might argue that the fact that Acts 27 is a meal context is not only consistent with Luke’s usage but exactly his point–it is a redemptive meal, and part of why we should identify it with Lord’s Supper in Luke-Acts.

(2) is a more substantial reason but it is still imported into the context. In fact, the first breaking of bread in Luke’s narrative (Luke 9:16) is the feeding of thousands–a number that probably included disciples, skeptics and seekers. At bottom, however, it seems to me that the text–read on Luke’s on narrative terms–should reshape that presupposition if indeed the language supports a Eucharistic reading. So, in the final analysis it is about what the text says within the context of Luke’s narrative.

Text:  Acts 27:21-26, 30-36 (ESV)

Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss. Yet now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. But we must run aground on some island”….And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the ship’s boat into the sea under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the ship’s boat and let it go. As day was about to dawn, Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, “Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food. For it will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.” And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat. Then they all were encouraged and ate some food themselves. 

This “breaking bread” story is the most difficult of Luke’s narrative for construing  as a religious or Christological meal. One cannot be absolutely certain about its meaning, but it is likely, given the language used, that the first Christian readers would have used the Lord’s Supper as a frame of reference for understanding this meal on the ship and that the narrative use of “breaking bread” has led us to this point. Paul used the meal as a means of encouragement and assurance. Eating represented hope: all would be saved, so all ate. If this is a eucharsitic breaking of bread, it teaches the church that the Supper is about hope and inclusivism, that is, that all are invited to share in the salvation of God, even pagan Roman soldiers. All are invited to the table to hear and taste the mercy of God.

That is my basic understading of the text. Below are the arguments that, to me, suggest this meaning. In Come to the Table, I did not deal with this text except through an extended footnote because I thought it would be distracting and I thought I could make my case in the book however one interpreted this text. Acts 2 and Acts 20 within their own contexts mean what they mean irrespective of how we understand Acts 27. Now, however, I offer here a fuller account of why I think this text contributes to our understanding of “breaking bread” in Luke-Acts.

Redemptive Significance of the Meal. The language surrounding the text is filled with soteriological imagery: not a soul will be lost, v.22; “do not be afraid,” v.24; God’s graciousness, v.24; faith in God, v.25; salvation, v.31; brought safely through, v.44/28:1; everyone was encouraged, v.36. Nothing is ordinary about this meal, especially in the light of Luke’s portrayal of Paul on this journey. It is a meal promising salvation; a meal of hope and encouragement. The meal is a concrete witness to the coming salvation of God. I think that sounds familiar in terms of the Lord’s Supper.

Gospel and Acts Travelogue. The parallel structures of Luke and Acts: turning the face toward a destination, trials, imprisonment, climatic events, etc. give this meal a parallel with the Last Supper in Luke 22  Luke intentionally parallels the events of Jesus’ life at the end of Luke and with the events of Paul’s life at the end of Acts (Cf. M. D. Goulder, Type and History in Acts [London: S.P.C.K., 1964] and C. Talbert, Literary Patterns, Theological Themes and the Genre of Luke-Acts [Missoula: Scholars Press, 1974]). Just as Jesus journeyed to Jerusalem (Luke 9-19), so Paul is travelling to Rome (Acts 19). Just as Jesus was arrested in Jerusalem (Luke 22), so was Paul (Acts 21). Just as Jesus had two trials (Luke 22-23), so did Paul (Acts 24-25). Just as Jesus ate a meal with his companions before facing the darkness of Friday (Luke 22), so Paul ate a meal with his companions before facing the darkness of the shipwreck (Acts 27).  This meal on the ship is Paul’s “Last Supper” within the narrative. Describing that meal, Luke uses what the early church recognized as a eucharistic formula. Early Christians would not have missed the association since they heard that language in their communities; it was the language of Jesus’ “Last Supper.”

Jew-Gentile Table Fellowship. The story also fits Luke’s emphasis on Jew-Gentile table fellowship as the symbol of the new Christian community (cf. Philip Francis Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts: The Social and Political Motivations of Lucan Theology [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987], 102ff). The “table” here in Acts 27 is a continuation and, in some ways, a climatic representation of the goal of the kingdom of God to invite all to sit at the table–Jew or Gentile, slave or soldier, prisoner or free. It is a continuation of the function of the table in the ministry of Jesus.  In particular, it is the inclusion of the Gentiles at the table (reminding us of the Cornelius narratives in Acts 10-11).

Eucharistic Language. The text has the most eucharistic language in Acts; it is the text that most linguistically parallels Luke 22:19 and Luke 24:30. Only here does “give thanks,” ”take” and “break bread” occur in Acts in a way that parallels Luke 22:19 and Luke 24:30. The text has three of the four features of the fourfold formula of take, break bread, give thanks and give (distribution is implied; the Western text of Acts adds “giving also to us”). Why does Luke recall this specific language from earlier in his narrative if not to connect the reader with those events? Luke uses the very language that would give Eucharistic significance to the meal.  He could have avoided that if he desired. Instead, he is quite intentional about connecting us back to his Gospel.

Summary. The narrative flow, the redemptive setting, the use of climatic themes, and the eucharistic language convince me that this is, in fact, an occasion when Paul invited unbelieving Gentiles to experience the grace of God through a meal in light of God’s redemptive act for them on the next day. It was a witness to God’s salvation–not only in the shipwreck, but in Christ. It was a promissory meal; a proleptic experience of the coming day of salvation. The meal was an invitation to trust in God’s saving work. That is, in fact, part of the dynamic and meaning of the Lord’s Supper itself.

I think C. K. Barrett nails the point quite well when we writes (“Paul Shipwrecked,” in Scripture: Meaning and Method, ed. Barry P. Thompson [North Yorkshire: Hull University Press, 1987], 60): “It seems unthinkable that Luke should have forgotten that he had written at significant points in his gospel the words that he uses here, and very improbable that the words were not used, and were not known by him to be used, by the church of which he was a member at its regular meeting for Supper.”

Perhaps, at the very least, as Bonz suggests, the language could be seen as “another example of Luke’s propensity to suggest a theme without insisting upon it” (Marianne Palmer Bonz,The Past as Legacy: Luke-Acts and Ancient Epic [Fortress, 2000] 179, n.28).

Resource Note:  Others who have argued this position include Clayton Raymond Bowen, ” The Emmaus Disciples and the Purposes of Luke,” Biblical World 35 (April 1910) 234-245;  J. Dupont, “The Meal at Emmaus,” in The Eucharist in the New Testament, ed. J. Delorme, P. Benoit, and M. E. Boismard and trans. by E. M. Stewart (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), 105-21; Geoffrey Wainwright, Eucharist and Eschatology (London: Epworth Press, 1971), 130-31; Susan Marie Praeder, “Sea Voyages in Ancient Literature and the Theology of Luke-Acts,” CBQ 46 (1984) 683-706; R. D. Richardson, “The Place of Luke in the Eucharistic Tradition,” Studia Evangelica, TU 73 (Berlin: Akadamie-Verlag, 1959), 671-72; P. H. Menoud, “Les Actes des Apôtres et l’Eucharistie,” Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses 33 (1953), 21-36; Bo Reicke, “Die Mahlzeit mit Paulus auf den Wellen des Mittelmeers, Acta 27:33-38,” Theologische Zeitschrift 4 (1948), 401-10; and P. W. Walaskay, ‘And So We Came to Rome’: The Political Perspective of St. Luke (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). The eary third century author Tertullian apparently interpreted it in this manner when he used the Latin technical phrase eucharistiam fecit (“celebrate the eucharist”) in On Prayer, 24. One could also suggest that the Western text’s addition “giving also to us” is an interpolation intended to clarify that only Christians (“us”) ate this meal in the light of Paul’s eucharistic prayer. Thus, an early understanding of this text in the second and third centuries was Eucharistic. Other supporters include the commentaries by Barrett, Belser, Blass, Chance, Olshausen, Ehrhardt, Ewald and Schneider among others.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts IV: Acts 20:7-12

On the first day of the week, when we met to break bread, Paul was holding a discussion with them; since he intended to leave the next day, he continued speaking until midnight. There were many lamps in the room upstairs where we were meeting. A young man named Eutychus, who was sitting in the window, began to sink off into a deep sleep while Paul talked still longer. Overcome by sleep, he feel to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead. But Paul went down, and bending over him took him in his arms, and said, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” Then Paul went upstairs, and after he had broken [the] bread and eaten, he continued to converse with them until dawn; then he left. Meanwhile they had taken the boy away alive and were not a little comforted.

The intentional character of “breaking bread” is obvious. The church gathered in order to break bread. This was its explicit purpose for assembling. Paul’s sermon was an addendum or special circumstance. But Luke does not tell this story simply to note another Pauline sermon or to describe a Christian assembly. Rather, Luke tells this story because it combines several elements which illuminate the connection between breaking bread, the first day of the week and resurrection. Luke tells this story because on this particular first day of the week when the disciples were gathered to break bread the church experienced firsthand a resurrection from the dead.

The combination of these factors connects this story with Luke 24 which should inform our reading of Acts 20. The parallels between Acts 20 and Luke 24 (reflected in the below chart) indicate that Luke wants us to read Acts 20 in the light of Luke 24, and consequently in the light of Luke 22–the Last Supper. Both Acts 20 and Luke 24 record the combination of three significant and complementary ideas: breaking bread, first day of the week and resurrection.

Topic	Luke 24	Acts 20
Gathering of Disciples	24:33	20:7
Breaking of Bread	24:30,35	20:7,11
Eating Together	24:42-43	20:11
First Day of the Week	24:1,13	20:7
Teaching the Word (logos)	24:44	20:7
Conversation (omileo)	24:14-15	20:11
A Rising from the Dead	24:5,46	20:10,12
Fear	24:37-38	20:11
The Living One (zota)	24:5	20:12

The Greek text of Acts 20:7, despite some translations which read “Saturday evening,” clearly identifies the day of meeting as the “first day of the week.” While sabbath after sabbath Paul had been in the synagogues speaking to Jews (cf. Acts 13:14, 44; 17:2; 18:4), when he encounters a Christian group, they are meeting on the first day of the week. It is uncertain whether this assumes a Jewish reckoning of time (sunset to sunset, so that Acts 20 = Saturday evening) or a Roman reckoning (sunrise to sunrise, so that Acts 20 = Sunday evening). Given the Gentile character of Troas, it was probably a Sunday evening. Either way, they met on the first day of the week rather than on the sabbath and this is in stark contrast with synagogue meetings in Acts.

The “first day of the week” connects this text theologically with Luke 24. This is no mere temporal indicator or incidental reference. Rather, seen in the light of Luke 24, it is a theological marker. There is theological significance to the “first day of the week” as the day of resurrection and the birthday of the church (Pentecost; cf. Leviticus 23:15-21, 33-36). It is the first day of the new creation. The first day of the week is rooted in the saving act of God in the gospel. The day has redemptive-historical significance as its explicit notation in each of the Gospel stories stresses (Matthew 28:1; Mark 16:1-2; Luke 24:1; John 20:1). Jesus as the “first fruit” (1 Corinthians 15:20-23) was raised seven weeks before Pentecost just as the first fruits of the harvest were offered to God before the rest of the harvest was gathered and celebrated at Pentecost (Lev. 23:9-14). The Spirit was poured out and the new community inaugurated on the first day of the week in celebration of the “first fruit” seven weeks prior.

On the first day of the week, Jesus first appeared to his disciples, broke bread with them and ate in their presence while showing himself to be alive (Luke 24:13,30,33,46), and one week later did the same thing (John 20:19,26). The first day of the week, then, as resurrection day and as the day that Jesus ate with his disciples became designated as the day when disciples would gather weekly to break bread together. While the Jerusalem church did this daily (at least for a while, perhaps only during the Pentecost festival), Troas appears to have embraced a weekly practice. Luke’s language reflects a common way of expressing the Sunday gathering since the language of “gathering,” “breaking bread,” and “first day of the week” are commonly linked in early literature (cf. 1 Corinthians 11:20; 16:1; Didache 14:1; Ignatius, Ephesians 20:2).

The weekly observance became standard in the late first and mid-second centuries as indicated by the Didache (14:1) and Justin Martyr (First Apology, 46-47). However, Ignatius (died ca. 115) exhorted the Ephesians to celebrate the Eucharist “more frequently” (Ephesians 13:1), which presumably means more than just Sunday. While there is no evidence of a daily Eucharist in the second century, there is evidence that it was not restricted to Sunday alone. For example, Easter was celebrated in the Asia Minor throughout the second century on Nissan 14 even if it fell on a day other than Sunday (the Quatrodeciman controversy). Towards the end of the second century it is apparent that the Eucharist was celebrated on the anniversaries of martyrs and at other times as well (Tertullian, On the Crown 3:3-4). By the third century there is a daily celebration in Carthage, North Africa (cf. Cyprian, The Lord’s Prayer 18).

The “first day of the week” in Acts 20 is no incidental reference. On the contrary, it reflects the intentional linkage of Acts 20 with Luke 24 in the light of the resurrection story that Acts 20 describes. Both Luke 24 and Acts 20 describe a situation of death which gives birth to life. Jesus emerges from the tomb “alive” and Eutyches goes home “alive,” though they were both dead. The resurrection of Eutyches is a concrete experience of victory for the church at Troas. When they gathered to break bread with the risen Eutyches, they ate with a visible example of the kind of hope they celebrated in the light of the resurrection of Jesus. That Supper was a celebration of hope and life as we imagine the Troas assembly sitting across the table from Eutyches as they broke bread together. The congregation was greatly “comforted,” which is what the contemporary church should experience as it breaks bread together in the presence of the living Christ.

Unfortunately, some read this text as if there were two different breakings of the bread. But the text does not say that they broke the bread in Acts 20:7, but only that they came together to break bread. They did not break the bread until after Paul’s homily and Eutyches’ resurrection. When they return to the third floor, then they broke bread and ate. While the text uses the singular “he broke bread and ate,” the singular is a synecdoche where a part stands for the whole. Does Luke really want us to think that Paul broke bread by himself, that he ate alone?  I think not. Rather, Paul is the focus of the text–preaching, healing, etc., and consequently he is the lead character in the breaking of bread.  But he does not break bread alone or eat alone in the midst of a meeting of the disciples, does he?

Further, Luke says Paul “broke bread and ate.” While some note that the verb geuomai (“ate”) literally means “taste” and therefore could refer to only bread and wine as in a contemporary Lord’s Supper, Luke uses the verb in the sense of “eat.” This is clear by his usage elsewhere. He only uses the verb concerning food in Luke 14:24 (eating a supper), Acts 10:11 (Peter is hungry and wants to eat), Acts 23:14 (zealots vow not to eat till they kill Paul) and here. The verb, then, is only used in Acts for meals and it has the metaphorical meaning of enjoying food. To “taste” is to experience the goodness of food and enjoy it.  Just as people “taste death” (experience death; Luke 9:27), so Paul (and by synecdoche the whole gathering) experienced–tasted–the food.

It is because of Luke’s usage of “taste” here and throughout his narrative that some want to see two different breakings of bread in this text:  20:7 is the Lord’s Supper and 20:11 is a “common meal.” This is strained and unnecessary. It is strained because it forces Luke to use the same words to describe two different things in the same paragraph without any indication in the language to highlight the difference.  It is unnecessary because it is based on a presupposition–imported into the context–that the Lord’s Supper cannot be a meal (even though it is called the Lord’s Supper).

Further, the argument that the same proponents would use to distinguish the “breaking of bread” in Acts 2 gets turned on its head here. Whereas it is the breaking of the bread in Acts 2:42 and thus the Lord’s  Supper (according to the argument), Acts 2:46 is simply the breaking of bread (without the article) and is thus a common meal.  But in Acts 20:7 Luke says they came together to break bread (without the article) but in Acts 20:11 is the breaking of the bread. Why does the bread in Acts 2:42 necessitate the Lord’s Supper in distinction from Acts 2:46 but it does not in Acts 20:11 in distinction from Acts 20:7?  Actually, it is more simple to see breaking bread as the same in all instances and this entails eating food together in a meal.

The unity of breaking bread and eating is the same as Acts 2:46, and describes the meal which characterized the Lord’s Supper. Breaking bread is a meal where the disciples eat together in the presence of the living Christ and, in this case, in the presence of the resurrected Eutyches.

The coordination of the first day of the week, breaking bread and resurrection gives theological substance to the weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper as a meal as it bears witness to the living presence of Christ within the community. Given that early Christians met every first day of the week (1 Corinthians 16:1), and that they gathered to eat the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:20; Acts 20:7), there are good historical reasons for believing that Christians met every first day of the week in order to eat the Lord’s Supper. More importantly, there are good theological reasons for believing this given the intersection of the first day of the week, resurrection and breaking bread. The first day of the week is the day of remembrance, the day of our deliverance, because it is the day on which God raised Jesus from the dead and created his new community, the church. The same reason the church gathers every first day of the week is the same reason it should eat the Lord’s Supper every first day of the week. Whatever reason one might offer for not eating every Sunday, the same reason could be given for not meeting. Whatever reason one might offer for meeting every Sunday, the same reason could be given for eating. It is a day of worship and a day of celebration because of what God has done in the gospel, and the gospel is proclaimed in the Lord’s Supper. If the Lord’s Supper is a celebration of the resurrection, why omit the very ordinance God has given us to celebrate it when we gather on the first day of the week to celebrate the resurrection? If gathering every first day of the week to celebrate our redemption through the gospel is appropriate, why is not the use of God’s gift of the Lord’s Supper equally appropriate? The church as a whole should return to the early Christian practice of breaking bread every Sunday.

New Testament Hymns

The early church, even as its Scripture was being written, expaned the Hebrew Psalter to include their own faith-hymns. Some (like Luke’s Canticles) are squarely rooted in the Hebrew traditions though with a Christological application and others reflect the new situation of the people of God in the church as the story of Israel is extended through Jesus (many of the hymns Paul utilizes).

Whatever their origin, they reflect a usage in the church that gives evidence of deep theology in their praise of God and mutual edification.  This is a list for your own reference in the future. Remember, however, some are disputed (are they really hymns chanted by the early church?) but all of the below have their advocates and rationale. I don’t think it improbable that what the church sang helped shape what the church wrote because what they sang is what they professed in their assemblies.

NON-PSALTER HYMNS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT*

A. Luke’s Canticles

1. Luke 1:46-55, Hymn to God in third person, “My soul glorifies.”
2. Luke 1:68-79, Hymn to God, “Praise be to the Lord.”
3. Luke 2:14, Hymn to God, “Glory to God.”
4. Luke 2:29-32, Hymn to God, “Sovereign Lord.”

B. Christological Hymns.

1. 1 Timothy 3:16
2. Philippians 2:6-11
3. Colossians 1:15-20
3. John 1:14-18
4. 1 Peter 1:18-21
5. 1 Peter 2:21-25
6. 1 Peter 3:18-21
7. Hebrews 1:3

C. Confessional Hymns

1. 1 Timothy 6:11-16
2. 2 Timothy 2:11-13

D. Sacramental Hymns

1. Ephesians 5:14
2. Titus 3:4-7

E. Meditative Hymns

1. Ephesians 1:3-14
2. Romans 8:31-39
3. 1 Corinthians 13

F. Hymns of the Apocalypse

1. 4:8, Hymn to God, “Holy, holy, holy.”
2. 4:11, Hymn to God, “You are worthy, our Lord and God.”
3. 5:9-10, Hymn to Christ, “You are worthy.”
4. 5:12, Hymn to Christ, “Worthy is the Lamb.”
5. 5:13, Hymn to God and Christ, “Praise.”
6. 7:10, Hymn to God and Christ, “Salvation belongs to…”
7. 7:12, Hymn to God, “Praise.”
8. 7:15-17, Hymn about God’s Promises.
9. 11:15, Hymn about God’s Victory.
10. 11:17-18, Hymn to God, “We give thanks.”
11. 12:10-12, Hymn about God’s Victory and Satan’s Woes.
12. 15:3-4, The Song of the Lamb to God, “Great.”
13. 16:5-7, Hymn to God, “Your are just.”
14. 18:2-3, Hymn about the fall of Babylon.
15. 18:4-8, Hymn of Invitation, “Come out of her, my people.”
16. 18:10,16-17,19-20,21-24, Hymns of Woe on Babylon.
17. 19:1-8, Hallelujah Hymns (5 of them).

*I put this list together many years ago. I do not have notes of how I did it or what resources I used.  If you discover this is too much like another list or see dependance, please let me know so I can give credit.

When God Tests the Wealthy

In light of the Occupy Movement and the interests of the wealthy, I thought I wold share a piece that bears God’s interest in testing the wealthy with wealth.

1 Chronicles 29:1-20

The testing motif fills the story line of Scripture. Abraham is tested (Genesis 22:1). Israel is tested (Deuteronomy 8:1-5). Job is tested (Job 23:1-12). Jesus is tested (Matthew 4:1-11). Paul is tested (1 Thessalonians 2:4). Believers are tested (Judges 2:22; 3:4; Psalm 17:3; 66:10; Isaiah 48:10; Zechariah 13:9; 2 Corinthians 8:8; James 1:12). The world is tested (Revelation 3:10). Believers pray for testing (Psalm 26:2; 139:23). As God seeks hearts, God tests them.

Testing the Wealthy

In 1 Chronicles 28-29, David gathers Israel for a liturgical coronation of Solomon as king. David called Israel together in a holy assembly (cf. 1 Chronicles 13:5; 15:3). David calls this gathering an “assembly of the Lord” (1 Chronicles 28:8) and invites the whole assembly to “praise the Lord your God” (1 Chronicles 29:20; cf. 29:1, 10). Israel assembles to praise God on the occasion of Solomon’s coronation. David construes part of this praise as the responsibility to share their wealth.

In 1 Chronicles 28, David reminded the leaders of Israel of God’s gracious election of Israel and God’s dynastic promise to David which is now focused in Solomon as temple-builder (1 Chronicles 28:2-7). He then charged Solomon and the leaders to seek God just as he seeks them (1 Chronicles 28:8-10). David then laid out both his plans and his preparations for the building of the temple (1 Chronicles 28:11-21). Just as God gave Moses a “pattern” for the building of the temple (Exodus 25:9, 40), so God gave David a “pattern” for the temple (1 Chronicles 28:11-12, 18-19).

In 1 Chronicles 29, David seeks to solidify support for his temple plans among the people. Consequently, David gathered Israel as a holy convocation, a religious celebration. His purpose is engender support for the new temple–both in terms of recognizing it as a divine work and sharing personal wealth for its construction. Just as Moses sought free-will offerings for the support of the tabernacle (Exodus 25, 35-36), so David seeks free-will offerings for the support of the temple. The people respond generously to David’s plea for support.

The Response (1 Chronicles 29:6-9).

Rather than commanding the people to set aside personal resources for the temple, David seeks to persuade them. Japhet summarizes the rhetorical quality of this appeal with five items[1]: (a) the task is too enormous for any single person; (b) Solomon “is young and inexperienced;” (c) David models generosity; (d) David details some of the “necessary items;” and (e) David’s final question is “pregnant with expectation.” This persuasive appeal is a model for leaders. The task before them is communal, necessary, a matter of dedication to God and modeled by leaders.

The beginning and end of the appeal are important. The beginning appeal is a communal one. The task is great and Solomon needs help. Even though Solomon is God’s “chosen one,” he is still “young and inexperienced.” Even God’s elect servants need community. The community must help build God’s “palatial structure.” The designation of the temple as a palace (cf. 1 Chronicles 29:19) reflects royal interests. This is the only time in the Hebrew canon where the temple is so described. Williamson believes that Chronicles intentionally reminds its readers that though Solomon is king, “the kingdom ultimately belongs to God.”[2] God lives in his palace.

The final appeal is inspirational in character: “Now, who is willing to consecrate himself today to the LORD?” The verb “consecrate” is literally “to fill the hand” which is technically “associated with the induction of a priest into his office” (cf. Exodus 28:41; 29:29; 32:29).[3] The dedication of gifts to the Lord is a priestly act on the part of Israel. As Johnstone comments, “By their free-willing offerings, the leadership and, by extension, the whole community, are dedicating themselves, as it were, by ordination as the priestly people of God. Holiness, as sacramentally focused on the Temple, is the realized ideal for the community as a whole.”[4] The act of sacrificial giving is a priestly act; it is a sacrifice to the Lord (cf. Hebrews 13:16). Thus, “it is not simply the gift that is consecrated to God but the giver. As one bids the gift farewell, one takes on a new role before God, a role of consecration to the service of God.”[5]

Sandwiched between these two appeals are David’s gifts to the temple which arise out of two resources: his official capacity (1 Chronicles 29:2) and his personal piety (1 Chronicles 29:3-4). David provides effective leadership by modeling the piety of giving. The Hebrew term behind “personal treasures” is only used elsewhere for Israel as God’s own treasured possession (Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 7:6; 14:2; 26:18; Psalm 135:4; Malachi 3:17). As David models for Israel, God has already modeled for David. David gives to God as God has given to Israel.

The leaders of Israel responded generously. The term “gave willingly” is used 7x in 1 Chronicles 29 (5, 6, 9[2], 14, 17[2]), and it describes Israel’s response to Moses in Exodus 25:21, 29. The people saw their gifts of their leaders and “rejoiced” just as David did (where the Hebrew reads: “he rejoiced with great rejoicing;” 1 Chronicles 29:9). The joy was rooted in the spiritual significance and generosity of the gifts. They were an expression of the leaders wholehearted devotion “to the Lord” (1 Chronicles 28:9; 29:9). This was not about a building per se. Rather, it was an act of priestly dedication fitting for a holy nation that God intended to be a “kingdom of priests” (Exodus 19:5).

McConville comments that “people are closest to God-likeness in self-giving, and the nearer they approach God-likeness the more genuinely and rightly they become capable of rejoicing.” Thus, this self-giving was a reflection of Old Testament joy rather than grudging duty. The Old Testament’s “presentation of man’s relationship with God is above all in terms of joy” and wholehearted devotion that rejects “the path of self-gratification.”[6] God loves a cheerful giver (2 Corinthians 9:7).

David Blesses the Lord (1 Chronicles 29:10-20)

This is one of the most paradigmatic prayers in Scripture. It is “one of the best examples of prayer-forms” in the Bible[7] and “probably the best known passage in the Book of Chronicles.”[8] The prayer is steeped in theological significance for both David and the Chronicler.[9] It acknowledges that the kingdom belongs to God, and that the whole earth belongs to the Lord. It thanks God for the grace he has demonstrated to Israel and his dynamic activity in the world for the sake of his people. It appeals to God’s heart to move in the hearts of Israel. The prayer assumes a dynamic, active God who yearns for his people and supplies their every need. This confidence evokes praise, but it also evokes a confidence that enables generosity. Paul makes a similar appeal to the Corinthians in a didactic context (1 Corinthians 9:6-15). David does it in a liturgical prayer (notice the seven direct addresses to God). Even though this prayer speaks to God, but it also teaches God’s people.

David’s prayer is a blessing. While the NIV reads “David praised the Lord” (1 Chronicles 29:10), the Hebrew reads David “blessed” the Lord. To “bless” God is certainly to praise him and perhaps they are rough equivalents. However, Dawes has argued that blessing God “is about acknowledging him, giving him due honor,” an honor that belongs to no other.[10] It affirms that he is the only true God (cf. Psalm 134:1-3; 135:19-21) and usually responds to some mighty act of divine revelation (cf. Exodus 18:10; Deuteronomy 8:10).

The blessing links the present experience of Israel to the past and secures the future. The eternal God is the Lord who was with “Israel” (Jacob), and is now with David, and will always be with the children of Israel. The assurance that David draws from the eternal God as the God of his “father Israel” is the same assurance the postexilic community can draw. The Lord is the God of Israel yesterday, today and forever (cf. Hebrews 13:8).

The first stanza of the blessing (1 Chronicles 29:11a) reflects Israel’s worship language. Braun points out the following parallels: (1) “greatness” (Psalms 71:21; 145:3, 6); (2) “power” (Psalms 89:14; 90:10; 106:2, 8; 145:11, 12; 150:2); (3) “glory” (Psalms 71:8; 78:61; 89:18; 96:6); “splendor” (Psalms 8:1; 21:5; 45:3; 96:6; 104:1; 111:3; 145:5) and “in heaven and earth” (Psalms 115:15; 121:2; 123:1; 124:8; 134:3; 135:6).[11] This doxological language ascribes to God what rightly belongs to him as the sovereign Creator. He fills the earth and all majesty belongs to him. This praise language heaps up terms to exalt the one who has eminence in the earth.

The second stanza (1 Chronicles 29:11b-12) locates the reign of God in Israel’s situation. While the Lord reigns over all the earth and everything belongs to him, on this occasion God has demonstrated his reign in Israel. The references to “wealth and honor” refer to the occasion of dedicatory gifts to the temple and enthronement of Solomon. The God of Israel is the real king of Israel. The “kingdom” belongs to him. He is “head over all” and the “ruler” (Psalms 22:29; 59:14; 66:7; 89:10) of all things. “Strength and power” are associated with his reign and he decides whom he will exalt. God alone (“in your hands”) is able to glorify Israel, its king and people. Thus, the reign of God over Israel is manifested in the election of Solomon and the wealth that flows to the temple. In his sovereignty God has gifted Israel with wealth.

The heart of the prayer is David’s reflection on Israel’s situation before this sovereign God (1 Chronicles 29:13-17). It is a thanksgiving that acknowledges that God is actively testing Israel with this gift of wealth. God’s gifts to Israel enable their gifts to him. This thanksgiving and praise is offered on the particular occasion of Israel’s monetary support of the temple.

The contrast between 1 Chronicles 29:13 and 1 Chronicles 29:14 is important. The verbs “thanks” and “praise” are participles which suggest the ongoing nature of the action, that is, “Here we are thanking and praising [you]….but—and the word is strongly emphasized—what is our status before God?”[12] It is a contrast between the greatness of God and the frailty of humanity.

1 Chronicles 29:14-17 supports the thanksgiving of 1 Chronicles 29:13. The first part emphasizes human dependence (1 Chronicles 29:14-16) while the second stresses human integrity (1 Chronicles 29:17). Thanksgiving comes from the recognition that “everything comes” from God’s “hand” (1 Chronicles 29:14, 16). The metaphor of God’s “hand” serves as the binding concept for 1 Chronicles 29:14-16 and links it with 1 Chronicles 29:12. With the realization that God has given this wealth for the building of the temple comes the concomitant praise and thanksgiving. The generosity of the people is dependent upon the generosity of God. Israel is dependent upon God for their wealth: “Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this?” Generosity does not flow from pride, but from humility. It flows from dependency, not self-sufficiency.

This humility and dependency are metaphorically expressed in 1 Chronicles 29:16. Just as “father Israel” in 1 Chronicles 29:10 recalled Israel’s patriarchal heritage, so also the language of “aliens and strangers” (Genesis 23:4; also 17:8; 21:23). This was the plight of Israel’s “forefathers,” and Israel continues its pilgrimage. This seems a bit out of place, however, now that Israel has territorial integrity. How can Israel still be an alien and stranger? It does not refer to the move from nomadic tribes to established king. Rather, Israel still sojourns among the nations as God’s people. It is a spiritual pilgrimage “in your sight,” that is, literally, “before your face.” Israel has always had a sojourner status before God and the allusion to the brevity of life confirms this.[13]

This has tremendous theological significance. First, it is a recognition “that Israel’s privilege to worship Yahweh is not based on right, but on grace.”[14] Israel’s presence in the land, the kingdom of David, the gifts to the temple and everything that Israel has is a demonstration of God’s graciousness. Israel has no claim other than the promise of God. They are “aliens and strangers.” Second, the postexilic community, who felt like “aliens and strangers” in their own land, gained confidence from this graciousness. Their status before God does not depend on temple, king, or land, but upon God’s grace. Third, Christians are also “aliens and strangers” (1 Peter 2:11) in the world, just as Abraham (Hebrews 11:9) and Israel were. As Estes concludes, “Thus, the sojourning of the previous generation of Israel begins to be viewed also as a paradigm for the life of the believer on the earth.”[15] What the Chronicler anticipated by his reflection on his own present community, the New Testament applies to Christians living as exiles in the fallen world (1 Peter).

While 1 Chronicles 29:14-16 stresses human dependency and divine graciousness, 1 Chronicles 29:17 stresses human “integrity.” Integrity is a proper response to divine testing. God is engaged with humanity through testing or probing their integrity. Job is such an occasion of divine testing (Job 1-2; 23:10), but also Abraham (Genesis 22:1), Israel (Deuteronomy 8:2-5), righteous hearts (Jeremiah 11:20; 20:12; cf. Proverbs 17:3), and Hezekiah (2 Chronicles 32:31). The Psalmists pray for it and recognize it in their lives (Psalm 7:9; 11:5; 17:3; 26:2; 66:10; 139:23). God is active and “seeking” a people for himself through testing. God is pleased when his people reciprocate.

David recognizes this occasion as a test, and he rejoices that people’s response demonstrates their faith and integrity. The Hebrew term behind “integrity,” used in two different forms in 1 Chronicles 29:17, means equity or justice (Psalms 9:8; 58:1; 75:2; 96:10; 98:9; 99:4). “Integrity” is an appropriate translation in some contexts (Deuteronomy 9:5; 1 Kings 9:4) but it mainly refers to doing what is right (thus, “uprightness” in the NRSV). The proper response to God’s testing is to do what is right. This “integrity” manifested itself by a willing, joyful gift “with honest intent.” The Chronicler intends this as a model of obedient, grateful response to God’s graciousness. As the narrative unfolds, Chronicles will note thatkKings did what was “right” or they did not do what was “right.” That theological evaluation utilizes the same word that appears in 2 Chronicles 29:17. God is pleased “with honest intent” (or rightfulness), and thus he is pleased with Kings that do what is “right” in his eyes (cf. 2 Chronicles 14:2; 20:32; 24:2; 25:2; 26:4; 27:2; 28:1; 29:2, 34; 31:20; 34:2).

The Chronicler teaches his community how to graciously respond to God’s grace. 2 Corinthians 8 and 9 is another example of such teaching. The theology is the same though the circumstances are different. Paul tests the integrity and sincerity of the Corinthians’ love by exhorting them to give to the poor saints in Jerusalem (2 Corinthians 8:8). His appeal is based upon the grace that God had demonstrated in Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 8:9). Paul uses the term “grace” more in 2 Corinthians 8 and 9 than in any other section of his writings (8:1, 4, 6, 7, 9, 16, 19; 9:8, 14, 15). The Corinthians ought to “grace” the poor because God has “graced” them so that “grace” (thanks) might return to God.

David prays for the hearts of his people and son. His petition calls for God’s gracious activity in heart. Integrity and uprightness do not simply flow out of human self-resolve. Rather, God works good things in the hearts of his people. God moves in the hearts of people (1 Samuel 10:9; 1 Kings 18:37; Ezra 6:22; Proverbs 21:1) as they move their hearts toward him (Deuteronomy 30:17; 1 Kings 11:9; Jeremiah 5:23; 17:5). He seeks them as they seek him. He enables them as they yearn for him. David’s prayer for his people and his son is a model for all believers as they pray for their churches and their children. The prayer assumes human responsibility, but it also seeks divine activity. Both are complementary and necessary values in God’s relationship with his people.

David’s petition draws on the covenantal promise of God to “Abraham, Isaac and Israel.” The children of Jacob are the children of promise; they are the people of God. David claims this relationship and asks God to “keep this desire in” their “hearts” and “keep their hearts loyal” to him. The heart is the crucial area of relationship with God. God seeks committed, “loyal” hearts which yearn for relationship with him. The “desire” refers to the willing, joyful generosity of 1 Chronicles 27:17. David prays that God will prepare their hearts just as he himself has prepared for the temple (1 Chronicles 29:19, “provided”).

Conclusion

God gives wealth, and God uses that wealth to test the hearts of his people. Will his people consume their wealth and use it for their own purposes, or will his people share their wealth and scatter it according to divine interests (for the sake of the kingdom and the poor; cf. Psalm 112:9 which is quoted in 2 Corinthians 9:9). Wealth tests the integrity of human hearts. What the people of God do with their wealth demonstrates the character of their heart and the nature of their commitment to the kingdom of God.

Endnotes:

[1] Sara Japhet, 1 & II Chronicles: A  Commentary, OTL (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1993), 503.

[2] H. G. M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, NCB (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 184.

[3] Roddy L. Braun, 1 Chronicles, WBC (Waco, TX: Word, 1986), 278.

[4] William Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, JSOTSup 253 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 1:285.

[5] Leslie C. Allen, 1, 2 Chronicles, CC (Waco, TX: Word, 1987), 189.

[6] J. G. McConville, I & II Chronicles, DSB (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984), 103.

[7] Peter R. Ackroyd, I & II Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, TBC (London:  SCM Press, 1973), 93.

[8] Allen, 191.

[9] Martin J. Selman, 1 Chronicles: An Initroduction and Commentary, Tyndale (Downers Grove, IL:  InterVarsity Press, 1994), 255-7.

[10] Stephen B. Dawes, “’Bless the Lord’: An Invitation to Affirm the Living God,” Expository Times 106 (1995), 295.

[11] Braun, 284.

[12] Ackroyd, 94.

[13] Daniel J. Estes, “Metaphorical Sojourning in 1 Chronicles 29:15,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 53 (1991), 49.

[13] Ibid., 47.

[14] Ibid., 49.

Missional Table

One formerly unchurched person recently told me about his first experience with the Lord’s supper. He had grown up in the inner city where a gang was his family. Befriended by “good Samaritans” in a time of need, he attended “church” for the first time and sat on the second row with his new friend.

As you might imagine, he was perplexed by the “Lord’s supper.” He supposed that it was a snack of some kind. So he grabbed a whole piece of bread and casually ate it as he passed the plate. When the juice came, he drank several cups while holding the tray (much to the shock and consternation of the server) all the while thinking how minimal the refreshment was. When the contribution basket came to him, he refused to pay for such megar food and drink.

Humorous, yes—but sad as well. As an one unquainted with “church,” the supper—both in terms of its form and meaning—was totally alien to him. While we might be amazed at his total unfamiliarity with Christian rituals, the fault may lie more with the Christian tradition than him. Christianity has so ritualized the Lord’s Table that it has no functional or meaningful connection with tables in life. While we may still call it a “table,” its “tableness” has been lost. The Lord’s Supper has become the Lord’s snack. It is little wonder that the unchurch can see no significance in the practice other than some meaningless and isolated ritual.

The response of the “Church Growth” movement, epitomzed by Willow Creek’s removal of the supper from Sunday services in the 1990s, was to reduce the role of the Supper in worshipping assemblies. The unchurched simply cannot connect with the Lord’s Supper—and not only the unchurched, but many churched as well. The problem is not the supper or the unchurched, the problem is the supper’s present form and discontinuity with the table of Jesus in Scripture.

The Table in the Ministry of Jesus

The table ministry of Jesus is often ignored in framing our understanding of the Lord’s Supper. For some it seems too removed from the Last Supper and for others the Lord’s Supper is a highly formalized ritual unlike the tables of Jesus’ ministry. However, in the Gospel of Luke the Last Supper is linked with the other tables in the narrative by language and content. The Last Supper is one meal among many (Luke 22), but it is also the paradigmatic meal for understanding the rest of the meals. It is a climactic meal in a series of meals during the ministry of Jesus which is continued in post-resurrection meals with the disciples. Instead of the Last Supper standing aloof from these other meals, it gives fuller meaning to them. The Last Supper interprets and gives substance to the other meals as they are understood in the theological light of that Last Supper.

Luke is a narrator. He tells stories rather than writing didactic prose. Through the stories he inculcates the values which he wants his community to embrace. Each meal story reveals something about Jesus and his mission. In Luke 5:27-32 Jesus sits at table with sinners as a physican among the sick. In Luke 7:36-50 Jesus receives a sinful woman at the table of a Pharisee and declares her sins forgiven. In Luke 9:10-17 Jesus shows hospitality to 5000 people as he first calls his disciples to mission (“give them something to eat”) and then models before them his messianic mission. The disciples are called to service. The table has a missional dimension; it reflects the mission of God to commune with his people at table. In Luke 10:38-42 Jesus accepts women as his disciples. In Luke 11:37-54 Jesus condemns the Pharisees because they sit at table only in form, not in spirit. In Luke 14:1-24 Jesus notes that their table does not look like the kingdom of God, but it looks like themselves. In Luke 19:1-10 Jesus invites himself to table with the tax collector Zacchaeus and declares that salvation had come to his house. Luke 24 welcomes a stranger to the table in Emmaus (Luke 24:30-35) and commissions the disciples to bear witness to gospel among all nations (Luke 24:45-49). Just as the disciples offered hospitality to a stranger on the way, so the table is a place where the church welcomes strangers (aliens or “others”). The table has a missionary quality, especially in light of the fact that the disciples receive their call to missions at a table.

The table is a place where Jesus receives sinners and confronts the righteous. The table is the place where Jesus extends grace to seekers, but condemns the self-righteous. Jesus is willing to eat with “others” in order to invite them into the kingdom, but he points out the discontinuity between our tables of social, ethnic, gender, economic, religious status and the table in the kingdom of God. The last (sinners, poor, and humbled–the “others”) will be first in the kingdom of God, but the first (self-righetous, rich and proud–the “churched”) will be last and excluded from the kingdom of God (Luke 13:26-30).

The meal stories have theological meaning for Luke’s community, and they are stories that shaped meals in the early church. The table during Jesus’ ministry should shape the table in the church because the table of Jesus is the table of the kingdom. The table of Jesus’ ministry continues in the church when his disciples gather at table. Jesus’ table etiquette is kingdom etiquette, and Lord’s supper is the Lord’s kingdom table.

The table announces the presence of the kingdom. It announces that “today” salvation has come to the world as God communes with his people at table. Jesus came to seek and to save the lost, and also to eat (commune, to be) with them. The Jubilee motif, articulated in Luke 4:16-19, not only invests the table with great joy, but it also calls the disciples of Jesus to embrace all those who are invited to his table. The table is inclusive and intentionally includes the poor, blind and oppressed; it intentionally reaches out to the “others”. The table reaches across all socio-economic, racial and gender barriers as it unites lost humanity at one table. Jesus modeled the invitation of all to the table as he welcomed Pharisee and tax collector, rich and poor, male and female. This inclusiveness testifies to the socio-ethical character of the table as a uniting moment in the kingdom of God.

The Table in the Church

The table in the contemporary church looks more like the “in-crowd” than it does the redeemed community of Revelation 7 or the ministry of Jesus. It is a gathering of the righteous, rather than a missional invitation to “others”. It is where the community gathers to take pride in its place at the kingdom table rather than a table which serves the poor, the weak, and the sinful. The table in the church looks more like a ritualized, formal Pharisaic table than it does the table of the messianic banquet. It is little wonder that the table in the church is not only misunderstood, but even despised by the unchurched and outsiders because the church’s table has become an “insider” phenomenon. The church’s table is intimidating, meaningless or irrelevant rather than inviting and comforting to the outsider.

That an unchurched person who visits some assemblies would have no idea of what is going on during the communion—in terms of both form and meaning—is an indictment that our language (“table”) does not fit our practice (when there is no table). That an unchurched person could misinterpret the communion bread and juice for a snack says more about the divorce of the supper from the preached Word and the divorce of the meal from our table language than it does about the naiveté of the unchurched. We call it a table, but it has no visible/communal table function, form or meaning.

The supper is a concrete proclamation of the Word, but it is exactly its concrete character (bread and wine—and as a meal!) which must be explained and applied. The supper needs to be joined with a preached Word from God so that not only the “alien” (the welcomed stranger among us) will appreciate its significance, but that the church will remember the work of God in Jesus Christ for them. The gospel should be proclaimed when the supper is served and the supper must proclaim the gospel as it embodies its meaning.

Jesus invited all to the table and sat with all. If the table embodies the gospel and bears witness to the gospel, then it should reflect the universal intent of the gospel. Just as our preaching invites all to faith, so the table should invite all to eat. The table, just as the ministry of the Word, offers grace and testifies that Jesus died for all. The table is a place where “others” can not only hear but experience the gracious message of the gospel through eating with the community of faith. All are invited to eat with Jesus. The community of faith receives ”strangers” at its table. The table of the Lord should epitomize gospel hospitality.

In the same way, the church as a community invites all who would seek God to the table. It invites the sinner, the unchurched and the weak family member to the table to hear the gospel of grace. It invites all (except the rebellious, cf. 1 Corinthians 5) to learn the gospel through eating and drinking.

When the Lord’s Supper is conceived as a meal at a table, then the exclusion of seekers is incongruous with the genius of the meal. If the Lord’s Supper is a meal, then it would be a counter-testimony to exclude “others.” It would deny food to the hungry, both spiritually and physically.

As the embodiment of the gospel and reflective of the essential nature of the church, the table is missional. It is a shared meal that bears witness to the universal grace of the gospel. Just as the gospel invites all to come to Jesus, so all are invited to the table to hear about Jesus and experience the community of grace.

[Modified version of a piece originally published in New Wineskins (Sep/Oct 2002).]

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts VI: General Observations

The previous posts in this series (listed in the Serial Index under “Biblical Texts”) have focused on exegetical detail within the framework of Luke’s two volume narrative (Luke and Acts). This final post in the series will serve as a summary of what I consider some of the more significant theological ideas embedded in Luke’s narrative concerning “breaking bread.” I trust that my exegesis (both in Come to the Table and the previous posts) grounds my theological summary. 

The church continues the ministry of Jesus. The early church did what Jesus did; they followed Jesus into the world teaching what he taught and doing what he did (Acts 1:1-3). Part of this ministry was “table fellowship,” and more specifically the “breaking of bread.” Jesus sat at table with saint and sinner, insider and outsider. He broke bread with thousands (Luke 9), with the twelve which included Judas the betrayer (Luke 22) and with a wider range of disciples in post-resurrection meals (Luke 24; Acts 1).  The continue continued this practice–they broke bread as a community and with outsiders. The church continues to break bread on the ground of what Jesus did, not on the ground of what the church did.  We imitate the church as it imitated Jesus. Looking beyond the few “breaking bread” texts in the Gospel of Luke, the church finds its model for table in the table ministry of Jesus itself.

The church eats a meal of redemptive hope.  Every “breaking of bread” in Luke-Acts is a redemptive and eschatological in character. Luke 9 is the eschatological presence of the Messianic Son of Man who feeds his people–the curse of hunger is reversed in that moment and the promise of a future aswell as the fulfillment of the past (the prophet like Moses has arrived!) is embedded in that moment. Luke 22 anticipates the coming kingdom of God and at that table Jesus announces it will come as a fulfillment of the Passover.  Luke 24 declares that the future has arrived in the presence through the resurrection of Jesus. Acts 2 inaugurates a communal reality upon which the risen Christ has poured his Spirit. Acts 20 declares the hope and comfort of the resurrection through the resuscitation of Eutyches who is a symbol of the resurrection hope proclaimed in Jesus who was raised on the first day of the week and broke bread with his disciples. Acts 27 is the assurance of hope through breaking bread and eating; it is the promise of salvation. Eating the meal (breaking bread) is a promissory act–God pledges the future to us. 

The church eats in the presence of Jesus.  While the meal promises the future, it also is an experience of eschatological presence of the living Christ.  When the church breaks break, they sit at the table of the Lord who is both the nourishment and the host of the meal.  He is both lamb and host; indeed, he is servant at the table as well. When Luke uses “breaking bread” in his Gospel, Jesus is always the living host. This is particularly significant in Luke 24. Jesus promised he would break bread with his disciples again in the kingdom of God and in Luke 24 he breaks bread with them. The church eats a post-resurrection meal with Jesus through the breaking of bread. Eating in the presence of the living Christ is not a funerary act or a sad memorial of his death, but a vibrant declaration of the gospel (good news) that Christ died and rose again for the sake of the world. But more than a declaration–it is, indeed, an experience of the living Christ himself. Thus, joy and celebration encircles the table rather than mourning and sadness. Why would anyone eat a post-resurrection meal with Jesus in sadness?

The church invites “others” to share the meal. When the early church follows Jesus into the world, it is for the sake of the world. Their table is not exclusive but inclusive. Their table is inviting and includes “others” at the table. Just as Jesus willingly and intentionally sat at table with “others” (Luke 5), so the church intentionally sets a table that welcomes all. There is no reason to presume that the “breaking of bread” in Acts 2 or Acts 20 only included disciples. As communal meals, just as the communal meals of Israel, the inclusion of “outsiders” (“aliens” in the Hebrew Scriptures) is consistent with the purpose and meaning of the table itself and demonstrated by Jesus himself. He sets the table etiquette of his kingdom table and he practiced it as the presence of the kingdom in the world. The table is not simply communal but also missional (more on that in the next post).

One Year at WordPress: The Most Viewed Posts/Series

My earlier attempts at blogging, before this past twelve months, were rather meager though I did post a considerable amount of material at my first site begun in September 2000.

 I appreciate how the blog has been received by old friends and new ones. Thank you for your patronage. I hope our dialogue can continue and grow over the coming years.

I initially decided to blog as part of my own therapy. Consequently, many of the early posts were about grief, suffering and recovery. I also wanted to post a complete record of my published writings (not yet complete), some lectures and even some academic classes (the Hermeneutics series is essentially that). So my blog is definitely on the “heavy” side of things, and intentionally so.

Consequently, I did not intend my blog to be a place to track my personal or family activities. It was, in essence, an adventure in substantial posts based on my years of teaching and reflection. But, as with anything, it has become a mixture though still heavily weighted to serious historical, theological and exegetical concerns. That, of course, means it has rather lengthy posts which I understand is anathema to authentic blogging.    But, then again, I never intended my blog to be a kind of daily family update, or pearl of wisdom (though would be a more difficult challenge than I am ready for), or even a detailed account of my journey through life. 

Instead, I have generally followed a couple of paths: (1) journeying through my cycles of grief and recovery with some theological content and (2) a resource for historical, biblical and theological studies.  The latter means it functions more as an encyclopedia than a “blog” in the common vernacular.  The former means it is an invitation to journey with me as we all share the experience of pain and hurt in a broken world.

I changed my theme apperance at some point because I wanted a framework which included a “search” feature so that visitors may search my posts for key words, phrases or texts. I hope some have found it useful. I know I have. I sometimes have to research my own posts to remember what I believe.  :-)  Yes, I am over 50.

To mark this first year, I have identified the top seven posts/series over the past year based on visits (comments considered as well). Here they are in case you missed them–ranked from seven to one.

7. Stone-Campbell Hermeneutics Series (#1 was the most popular). This surveyed the more significant influences and developments of heremenutics within Churches of Christ in the 19th and 20th centuries.

6.  A Reflection on Psalm 84 for those Grieving Loss: even the Valley of Weeping has springs of refreshment but this does not dispel the need to weep.

5.   I Will Change Your Name, a homily on Isaiah 62:1-5. Through spiritual recovery God changes names, particularly the names we have given ourselves or others gave us.

4.   K. C. Moser and Churches of Christ.  The theologian of grace for Churches of Christ in the 1930s-1960s, Moser’s impact on Churches of Christ is beyond estimating.

3.   “Meeting God at the Shack” Series (#5 was the most popular). This was my ”pastoral” assessment of The Shack wherein I reflected on my own “shack” and my personal journey of recovery.

2.   “Theological Reflections on the Shack” Series (#4 was the most popular). This was my fundamentally positive “theological” assessment of The Shack.

1.   Divorced People–How Do They Feel?  How do you think they feel?  They hate divorce more than anyone except–perhaps–God.

St. Petersburg Courses

In December 2006 and again in December 2007 I taught at the Institute for Theology and Christian Ministry in St. Petersburg, Russia.  (Yes, it was cold…and dark except for only six or so hours a day.)

In 2006 I taught “Medieval and Reformation Church History” and in 2007 I taught “Systematic Theology.” The “Systematic Theology” course is my response to a list of 38 questions developed by the administration, staff, students and myself. So, it is not very systematic, but it covers the ground most important to Russian believers.

Both of these courses are available on DVD or MP3 for $25 each and both courses contain 40 hours of lectures. Other courses from such luminaries as John Willis, Tom Olbricht, Paul Watson, Richard Oster and James Thompson among many others are also available. One could actually get the knowledge base for an M.Div. by listening to these CDs. [Update: Unfortunately, it appears that the English materials are no longer available on the website as of 05/21/2009.]

The Institute is doing a wonderful work of training leaders for Russia and other former soviet states. It would be a wonderful place for someone to study theology, learn the Russian language and also obtain a cooperative M.A. from the University of St. Petersburg. Any potential missional disciples interested in Russia?

Medieval and Reformation Church History Course

I have uploaded the powerpoints for the “Medieval and Reformation Church History” course below. Warning: thye are large files.  These will help you follow the lectures if you listen to the audio but they make sense, for the most part, without the audio.

Medieval Catholicism and Orthodoxy (498 total slides)

1. Foundations of Medieval Christianity
2. Early Medieval Period
3. Missions, Theology and Liturgy
4. The Great Schism, 800-1204
5. The Collapse of Christian Europe

Reformation (361 total slides)

1. Late Medieval Context and Lutheran Reformation
2. Swiss Reformation and Unity Efforts: Zwingli, Bucer and Early Calvin
3. The Radical Reformation
4. The French and English Reformations
5. Catholic Counter-Reformation and Religious Wars

Systematic Theology Course

Below are the questions that I covered in the “Systematic Theology” (more like an Advanced Catechism) course in St. Petersburg. I have uploaded my all-too-brief summary answers to the questions for those interested (36 single-spaced pages). The summaries were guides for the Russian translators as they read the Russian exam papers. These answers briefly summarize what I said in class on each question. The audios, of course, are much more expansive than what is contained in these short summaries.

Creation and Fall

1. Why Did God Create?
2. What is the Importance of Creation and Humanity’s Role in It?
3. What is the Origin of Evil?
4. Why does God Permit Suffering?

Story and Redemption

5. What is the Role of Lament among Believers?
6. What is the Relationship between Scripture and Tradition?
7. What is the Kingdom of God?
8. What is the Meaning of the Lord’s Prayer?

Christology

9. What is the Economic Trinity?
10. Is Jesus God?
11. What is the Relationship of the Human and Divine Natures in Jesus?
12. What is the Meaning of Atonement?

Trinitarianism

13. What is Baptism in the Spirit?
14. What are the Gifts of the Spirit?
15. How Important is Trinitarianism for Christian Unity?
16. What is the Nature of Salvation?

Faith, Baptism and Discipleship

17. Why is Baptism by Immersion Important?
18. What is the Relationship of Faith and Baptism?
19. What is the Relationship between Faith, Works and Assurance?
20. What is Discipleship?

Christian Worship

21. What is the Nature of Christian Assembly?
22. What is the Significance of the Lord’s Day?
23. What is the Meaning of the Lord’s Supper?
24. How is Christ Present in the Supper?

Church

25. Is it Necessary to Tithe?
26. What is the Role of Fasting and Confession in the Christian Community?
27. What is Church?
28. Upon what Must the Church Unite?

Ecumenical Questions

29. How Do We Relate to Those Outside the Unity of the Faith?
30. How Do We Relate to Other Religions?
31. What are the Strong Points of Orthodox Theology?
32. What are the Weak Points of Orthodox Theology?

Piety and the Saints

33. Are Icons Idolatrous?
34. Where are the Dead?
35. What Should We Teach about Mary and the Saints?

Eschatology

36. How Do I Interpret Revelation?
37. What is Hell?
38. What is the New Heaven and the New Earth?

Stone-Campbell Theodicies: Nineteenth Century

 ”Theodicy in Early Stone-Campbell Perspectives,” in Restoring the First-Century Church in the Twenty-First Century, ed. by Warren Lewis and Hans Rollmann (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2005), 287-310.

In honor of Don Haymes, I penned an article concerning the various “theodices” that were prominent in the 19th century Stone-Campbell Movement. It was interesting to me that there is no “Theodicy” heading in the Stone-Campbell Encyclopedia though there is some discussion of the idea under the article entitled “Providence.”

Essentially, they were all theologically Arminian with an Augustinian understanding of the Fall. What I mean is this, they all located the origin of moral evil in the free agency of creatures (whether human or angelic). That is the Arminian part. At the same time, they all located natural evil in the “Fall” of humanity–either a punishment or consquence of sin within the cosmos. That is the Augustinian part. One can see both of these in Alexander Campbell and Robert Richardson and both affirmed a kind of “meticulous providence” over the world.

However, the North/South conflict and the cultural/theological developments of the late 19th century shaped theodicy in different ways within the movement.

On the one hand, the North embraced a more rational, scientific approach to theodicy. Emphasizing the embedded order within the cosmos, natural law regulated natural evil. Nature functioned independently–by divine design–of God’s specific will or intent. God did not and does not intervene within the cosmos except for redemptive-historical purposes (e.g., Exodus, Incarnation, Resurrection). This created a kind of Deism within northern thinking that denied any kind of “special” or “meticulous” providence (though all did not deny it and some continued the tradition of Campbell and Richardson). Among Churches of Christ, this is the tradition of Daniel Sommer or the Indiana Tradition.

On the other hand, the South (particularly in the deep south of TN, MS and AL, etc.) believed the cosmos was engaged in a radical spiritual conflict. It was the kingdom of God versus the kingdom of Satan (e.g., Lipscomb and Harding). This is essentially the Tennessee Tradition. God was involved in his world directing nations and individuals toward his ends, including the idea that God punished the South because of slavery. God is meticulously involved in his world and engaged in this cosmic conflict. Humanity is free to choose which side it will serve, but God will win in the end and even now sovereignly conducts the world according to his goals and interests. Lipscomb’s response to the overwhelming experience of evil in the Civil War was to acknowledge God’s sovereignty. Lipscomb does not “defend” or “justify” God. Rather, he submits and trusts. He recognized that God punished the South for slavery but also that the North was equally wicked for its vengeance, violence and materialism.

Some in the South rebelled against this construal, particularly in Texas (Texas Tradition). They embraced a Newtonian natural law understanding of natural evil and advocated a practical Deism. This is evidenced, in particular, in the “word only” theory of the Holy Spirit. God is self-constrained by natural law and Scripture for his own action in the world. This response to life is to protect God from involvement in the specific events of the world. God does not get his hands dirty in the daily functions of life, but regulates the world through laws (laws of nature and laws in Scripture). The loss of “Spirituality” (the work of the Spirit in the lives of people) in the Texas Tradition gravitated naturally toward a practical Deism.

In the context of opposing a deistic understanding of prayer, James A. Harding asked: “Does the Holy Spirit do anything now except what the Word does? Do we get any help, of any kind or in any way, from God except what we get by studying the Bible?… Does God answer our prayers by saying, ‘Study the Bible…’?” (“Questions and Answers,” The Way 4/16 [17 July 1902]: 123.)

Theodicy is too often encumbered by metaphysical assumptions, too driven by hermeneutical harmonization, and too distant from the affirmations and particularities of the text. Theodicy must arise out of the story we have been given, and perhaps it is not so much “theodicy” as “kergyma” that is our task. I find myself much more in line with Lipscomb/Harding than the Northern Disciples and the Southern Texans.

Maximum Grandparenting

Last night (Friday) and this morning (Saturday) I sat under the feet of Leon B. Sanderson–the son of L. O. Sanderson and Associate Minister at the White Station Church of Christ in Memphis Tennesse–who conducted a seminar on Maximum Grandparenting at the Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, Tennessee. I enjoyed every aspect of this learning experience–from Leon’s lectures to the discussions at my table. I would recommend the seminar for any congregation with grandparents who want guidance and encouragement.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for Leon who was named Alumnus of the Year of the Harding Graduate School of Religion this month. Leon is a godly man whose wisdom and experience is rich with Scripture and authenic relationships. While Leon was a student of mine in a few classes at the Graduate School, he has taught me much more with his life-long interest in people. Now I have also experienced his kindness, wisdom and insight into grandparenting.

He reminded us that grandparents may fill the role of “remembering” within a family. They remember the story of the family, but they also remember the story of God. They are the intergenerational witness to the mighty acts of God and connect the coming generations with the faith of their fathers and mothers. They remember and tell the story.

Psalm 71:18 — So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.

Psalm 78:1-7 — Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth! I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments.

The goal of grandparenting is to participate in God’s maturing and forming of the next generation. They do this without lectures or shaming but with living and story-telling. They are God’s light to the path of the next generation.

Thanks, Leon, for a wonderful experience.  I needed that reminder as I am the grandparent of one….so far.

Palm Sunday: Psalm 118

The last of the Passover Psalms, Psalm 118, is the one which the crowd that lined the streets of Jerusalem shouted to welcome Jesus (Matthew 21:9): “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They blessed the one who came to declare the name of the Lord, the one who came in the service of Yahweh, and they cried for salvation (“Hosanna” means “save us”).

The Text

Psalm 118 is a thanksgiving song offered by one who had come to the temple to sacrifice a thank offering for his salvation. The text begins and ends with the great liturgical refrain of Israel’s temple worship:  “Give thanks toYahweh, for he is good; his love endures forever.” But the substance is an individual thanksgiving (“I”) whose refrain is the Lord has “become my salvation” (14, 21). Once lost in lament and hopelessness, God became his strength and refuge–the Lord became his song!

To see the meaning of this Psalm it is important to follow the flow of the song. Beginning and ending with a call to hanksgiving, the middle of the Psalm is the individual’s thanksgiving followed by the community’s affirmation.

     Liturgical Refrain (1)
               Communal Praise (2-4)
                         Individual Thanksgiving Song (5-21)
                                   Lament and Triumph (5-7)
                                  The Lord is My Strength (8-14)
                                  I Will Give Thanks (15-21)
                         Communal Response to Thanksgiving (22-27)
                Individual Praise (28)
     Liturgical Refrain (29)

As the worshipper entered the gates, Israel’s chorus declared: “His love endures forever.” And the worshipper sings his song. It is a story of lament and deliverance.  He sang of his anguish and seeming defeat; he thought he was going to die and he was ready to give up. Surrounded by enemies he discovered he could trust no one. He felt abandoned and chastened; lost and disciplined. He sensed failure and experienced hopelessness.

But the Lord was with him. He disciplined him but at the same time helped him. The right hand of Yahweh redeemed him from the pit; he lived and did not die. It is better to trust in the Lord because ultimately people and princes will disappoint. God alone is his salvation.

The community resounded with shouts of joy and victory. They welcomed the delivered one into their midst. They recognized that the rejected one–lost in abandonment and pain–is actually the chosen one, chosen by God. This one, though once lost in anguish, has now come to declare the praise of the Lord. Blessed is anyone who comes to exalt the name of Yahweh! The community joined the procession to the altar to give thanks with this worshipper and to offer their own prayer to the Redeemer of Israel:  “Yahweh, hosanna,” that is, “Lord, save us!”

Together they, the community and the worshipper, declare: “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  Together they recognize that God has made a new day today, a day of salvation, deliverance and redemption. Today is the day of salvation. It is a time to rejoice and shout for joy. The worshipper who has come to the altar with his thanksgiving sacrifice testifies: “You are my God, and I will exalt you.”

The Worshipping Assembly

This Psalm is not simply about a particular individual in the past who sang his own thanksgiving song in the temple. Nor is it simply Messianic as if it was only and wholly about Jesus. It is about the God who continues to act in the lives of his people to save them from their troubles.

This worshipper’s thanksgiving song has become part of the communal praise book. Now it has become the community’s song. It is a scenario that can be replayed and renewed within the community. Others can take these words and sing them as their song of thanksgiving. Further, individuals even now still experience the redemptive hand of God in their lives.

Worshippers can re-enact this moment with their own songs. The public assembly of God’s people should be a place where people can bring their songs. They enter the gates to declare the mighty acts of God in their own lives, to declare how God has delivered them from their various pits to again join in the assembly’s chorus: “His love endures forever.” And the assembly hears the new songs with thanksgiving, praise and a renewed cry of “Hosanna” for the community.

Perhaps this is what Paul was talking about when he suggested that if anyone has a “psalm,” let them sing it (1 Corinthians 14:26). Let us hear the individual thanksgiving songs and let the congregation say “Amen!”  This, indeed, is to my mind what Jesus of Nazreth himself sings in the congregation: “I will declare your name to my brothers; in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises” (Hebrews 2:12).

And the songs continue. Anyone who has ever heard Dennis Jernigan‘s testimony sings “I Will Thank You” with renewed energy and gratitude. We need to hear the songs that we might join the anathem of praise and rejoice in the day of salvation, and–moreover–that we might renew our own cry of “Hosanna” in the midst of God’s people.

My Experience

For me assembly is communal lament and thanksgiving. I come to hear again the chorus of God’s love for his people. I come to hear again the stories of redemption through Jesus. And I come to hear the ongoing work of God among us–to hear the stories of praise and thanksgiving.  I come to hope again, to see again. I come for renewal.

And I also bring my story to the table. I bring my lament and deliverance. Nobody in their right mind would want to hear me sing it, but my heart remembers it and I speak it.  I do sing it with the congregation as we raise our voices together in song.

With the church I sing my lament. I remember my past losses, my lament. I bring my failures, my sense of abandonment and my sin to the assembly and hear again the love of God for me. I sense the “new song” in my heart every time I join with the chorus of praise and my heart is renewed with hope, joy and salvation.

That, my friends, is why I “go to church.”  I go to hear the stories of God’s saving acts among his people as well as to hear the story of God’s redemptive work through Jesus. I go to hope again. I go to declare again. I go to experience again the thanksgiving song and to forget–if only for a moment, an eschatological moment–the dark nights of my soul.

One day–when the eschatological moment finds its fulfillment in the new heaven and new earth–there will be no more night and all will be made new. There the mighty chorus of all God’s people will sing “Salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb!”

Come, Lord Jesus.

Palm Sunday: Mark 11:11

This past Palm Sunday Dean Barham, the pulpit minister of the Woodmont Hills Family of God, challenged me to reflect more deeply about the function of Passion Week.

Using Mark 11:1-11 for his text, he recounted the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. What caught my attention in particular was his comment on Mark 11:11. While Jesus entered Jerusalem as the Messianic savior, when he visited the temple he just “looked around at everything” and went home. Dean raised an intriguing question:  what did Jesus see?

As we know, Jesus became a “testy guest” (to use Dean’s phrase) in Jerusalem that week. He questioned the authorities, scandalized the teachers, debated the Pharisees, announced the destruction of the temple, and ”cleaned house” (another Deanism). In effect, he inspected the fruit of Jerusalem and found it wanting. Just as he ecountered the barren fig tree on his way into Jerusalem and cursed it, so also Jerusalem–despite its regal temple and courtyards, despite its air of religiousity, despite its learning in Scriptures–lacked God’s heart. They knew the Scriptures, but they did not know what “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” meant. There was no fruit, no mercy. Their temple was a “den of robbers”–a hiding place for sinners–rather than a place for prayer and devotion to God for the nations.

Only a few bright spots emerged in that final week. A widow gave all she had though others were only making a show of their wealth as they gave out of their abundance. Mary showed her devotion to Jesus by anointing his head with expensive oil. On the whole, however, Jerusalem–just like its temple–needed cleansing.

It gives me pause to mediate. When Jesus enters my heart, what does he see?

As I walk through Passion Week over the next few days, I will read the Compline Prayers for Holy Week and Easter as well as follow the Divine Hours of the week. These thoughts will guide my meditation as I search out my own heart.  Is my heart more like the squabbling and squawking teachers of the law or is it more like the selflessness of the widow and the devotion of the one who anointed Jesus?

Children, Church and Baptism

I recently posted a brief statement on “Children at the Table” in which I suggested that the practice of sharing table communion with our children might be a good idea.

One question this raises, among others, is the relationship of children to the kingdom of God. For our paedo-baptist friends, it is obvious. Children are baptized into the community of faith based on the promise of God to the children of the covenant and through the faith of their parents. For those who do not practice infant baptism the question is rather different. Both traditions, however, struggle with the problem of “accountability,” that is, when does a child own their faith as their own (thus “confirmation” or other rituals in paedo-baptist traditions).

Within Churches of Christ we have historically held that children are “safe” (without sin) until they reach the “age of accountability” at which time they own their sin and become sinners (guilty). At that point, as I generally understood the theology, they are not only unsafe but also outside the grace of God. They do not belong to the kingdom. Consequently, children (ranging from ages 9-13 generally) are instructed about baptism, their sin, and their need for Jesus. As a result, Churches of Christ usually reap a baptismal harvest from among their children between the ages of 9-13 (I myself was 11 when I was baptized by my father).

This approach assumes that children move from “safe” to “lost” and then are “saved” when they are baptized. The tricky point, however, is how to identify the exact moment, time and circumstance when they move from “safe” to “lost.” Existentially this is an important question. If one’s child dies at the age of ten unbaptized is the child “safe” or “lost”? What if the child is thirteen or fifteen? It is a harsh question but a living one.

I would hope that we might all have the grace and mercy to say the  deceased child now experiences the embrace of the loving Father covered in the mercy of Jesus. But on what theological or biblical grounds do we say that  if we believe that children within the church move from “safe” to “lost” at some point which we cannot identify.

When I baptized my daughter at the age of eleven, I can say with absolute certainty that if she had died the night before I would have ”preached her into heaven” (as the saying goes). Existentially, in my mind at least, my daughter was not baptized to move her from “lost” to “saved.”

So what do we do with this theological impasse? I suppose one could argue that my love for my daughter blinded me to her “lostness.” I suppose one could suggest that she was not ready for baptism if she was not “lost” and perhaps she was baptized too early. But I question the theological underpinnings of the notion that our children move from “safe” to “lost” to “saved” (once baptized).

My daughter always believed in Jesus. There was never a time when she did not believe. She always believed according to her capacity to believe. Her faith developed through various levels of faith and discipleship but her faith was present throughout. From her first singings of “Jesus loves me” to her confession of faith at her baptism–faith was a constant in her life.

What do I do with that? I believe that through faith she was not merely “safe” but “saved,” that is, living in communion and relationship with God as her faith developed and her discipleship matured. As our children grow up in faith and live within a faith community, they enjoy a relationship with God through family, community and their own childlike faith.

Their growth in faith is marked throughout their family and communal life. Some faith communities have rituals to mark the various moments of faith, even something as simple as reciting the Lord’s prayer or as dramatic as a “graduation into the Youth Group.” The most dramatic, biblical and initiatory ritual is baptism.

When our children who have been nurtured in faith and have expressed their faith in a multitude of ways come to baptism, I do not believe they come as “lost” people. Rather, they come as children of the church, children of the faith community. They come already belonging to the kingdom of God–they are not “lost” nor “safe” but already in communion with God.

They come to baptism to declare their faith. They come to publically embrace their discipleship. They come to become full participants in the life of the faith community through owning their own faith and committing themselves to following Jesus to the cross. They follow Jesus into the water in order to follow him to the cross.

Baptism for our children is a climatic act of faith. It dramatically initiates them into a life of discipleship.

I think the baptism of Jesus is a model for this. Jesus did not come to his baptism as one who was “lost.” He came to his baptism to declare his discipleship–a follower of the Father who intended to do the will of the Father, even to cross. His baptism began his public ministry, his public life as a disciple. But he had been a disciple long before his baptism. He had been nurtured in faith by Joseph and Mary, he had been taught at the synagogue, he had celebrated Israel’s redemption at the Passover, etc.  In effect, he had matured as a disciple through his first thirty years and owned his mission at his baptism in obedience to the Father.

Our children do something similar. They have been nurtured by family and community. They have walked a path of faith and discipleship throughout their years. And when they come to their baptism, they do not come as “lost” little people. They come as believers–people who have lived in relationship with God since their birth–ready to own their discipleship, declare their allegiance to the Father, and commit to the way of the cross as followers of Jesus.

That view of baptism is a bit higher than just moving from “lost” to “saved.” To convince a child they have done bad things and they need forgiveness is much simpler task than to wait for them to own their discipleship and commit to the way of the cross.

Perhaps if we thought that our children lived in communion with God through faith we would not rush them to the water as soon as they become aware of some distinctions about good and evil. Perhaps if we thought our children were saved by God’s grace through faith we could patiently wait for the moment when they are fourteen or sixteen or even eighteen for them to declare their discipleship and take up the mission of Jesus.

I am not suggesting a particular age for baptism. I don’t know what that should be; everyone must decide for themselves. But what I am suggesting is that to pressure our children into baptism in order to soothe our own worries and fears about their salvation is rooted in a misguided theology.

While I do not know if David Lipscomb would agree with what I have written above, I do know that he believed that a child was sufficiently prepared for baptism if she believed that she was acting in obedience to the Father whether she believed she had sin or not. In conclusion, I offer a few selections from David Lipscomb which I think share the principle I applied to this discussion. I offer them for not only historical perspective, but for careful reflection as well.

It is not an accident that those whose hearts and lives were most deeply steeped in sin, like the slayers of Jesus Christ and Saul seeking the death of all Christians, were told how to be freed from sin; while nothing of this is said to Timothy, trained and nurtured in the religion of the Bible to understand and obey its teachings, or Cornelius and Nicodemus, seeking to know the will of God, or Jesus Christ, willing to die to honor his Father’s will. Each was taught as his condition required, and God was well pleased with obedience of all classes. [1]

The spirit in which one should come to Christ is that of a little child, knowing but little, but trusting in God, and glad in his ignorance and helplessness to follow God and do what God desires him to do, and because God desires it. “Ye are my friends, if ye do the things I command you.” A better motive to do than because God commanded it never moved a man. [2]

When one reared in the training and instruction of the Lord like Timothy desires to enter Christ, his case is divine inspiration to guide him. The little girl’s wish to be baptized because Jesus wanted her to be, is as much the direction of the Spirit of God as for the murderers of the Lord to “be baptized into the remission of sins.” Those desirous to learn and do the will of God while children cannot be oppressed with a heavy weight of guilt, but find direction into the body of Christ, where all evils are banished and all blessings abound. Were one as faithful as the Son of God to be found, it would only be necessary that he be baptized to fulfill the will of God. [3]

[1] David Lipscomb, “What Must a Man Know to Fit Him to Enter Christ?” Gospel Advocate 55 (27 November 1913) 1156.

[2] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 October 1910) 1109.

[3] David Lipscomb, “A Summary. No. 2,” Gospel Advocate 56 (1 January 1914) 11.

A Ten-Word Faith Statement for My Grandchildren?

As part of the the Maximum Grandparenting seminar, Leon Sanderson challenged us to think of a ten-word summary that we would like to leave as a legacy for our grandchildren. It might be something we would constantly repeat in their ears or it may simply summarize what it is that we want to communicate to them in various ways.

What would be your ten-word summary? What are the key words that come to your mind? Ten words is arbitrary but it does force focus, brevity and accentuation.

Many suggestions were offered but most focused on words like trust, faith, love, hope, and gratitude among others. I devised my own.  I kinda like it, but I know my emphases may change with future experiences. It is meaningful to me as stated, but I know it may sound stiff to others or even vaccuous. Neverthless, at this moment–right now–these words are what I lean upon in my faith journey….and I would hope that I could pass it on to my grandchildren as well as my children–perhaps not in these exact words but hopefully the ideas and its passion.  Here it is:

“Trust God’s love for you and gratefully enjoy God’s presence.”

Trust–or faith–is so difficult.  Our experiences seemingly teach us to doubt and fear. Broken promises, failed relationships, painful moments with those we supposed loved us, abandonment and emotional distance create a vaccum of trust. We tend to project these onto God and thus learning to trust God’s love for us becomes difficult.

Indeed, we know ourselves too well–or perhaps not well enough.  We sense that we are unworthy of love, so filled with junk that we are unlovable.  Our brokenness teaches us to doubt whether anyone could really love us. We believe that if another really and fully knew us they would not truly love us.

Discovering God’s love, experiencing it, feeling it and trusting it are foundational for healthy, holy and whole living. Here is where we discern our identity:  we are lovable because we are loved.  When we feel loved by God, our lives become centered in his estimation of us. This is where we find our worth and value. God’s love gives to us and enables us to love others.

Joy–to enjoy–is the intent of creation. God created us to enjoy him as he enjoys us. God delights in his people just as he delighted in his own Son. The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism asks what the primary goal of humanity is and the answer is “to glorify God and enjoy him forever.”  The glory of God is to enjoy his creation and we glorify him when we enjoy him. This is what God intended for life–joy, pleasure, delight, and he gives it to us if we would but trust his love.

We enjoy God’s presence in solitude. God comes to us in our inner world; he meets us in silence, meditation and prayer. There we listen to him, “feel after him,” and rest in his peace.  To clear our heads–silence the multiple voices that distract us–is to give God the space to assure us through presence.

We enjoy God’s presence in relationships. God created us in community as a community. Our relationships mirror his own Triune relationship. Through connecting and listening to others, we connect with God who is present in holy and godly relationships. The church–the beloved community of God–is not incidental to spiritual life but a means by which God encounters us through others. When we are loved by the community we also feel the love of God.

We enjoy God’s presence in assembly. The assembly is a present experience of a future reality; it is a proleptic experience, an eschatological event. Assembled and gathered to God, we transcend time and space to join with the whole host of heaven and earth around God’s throne. Gathering with the community is no addendum to spiritual life but a means by which God promises us the future.

Gratitude–thanksgiving–is our response to God’s gracious presence. The joy of divine presence generates gratitude and it is also an act of faith in the middle of a broken world filled with hurting lives. Given God’s presence, we act in faith–we trust God’s love and declare, as an act of faith, our thanksgiving for the presence we sense.

I end every day with some statement of gratitude. At times it seems that I can only think of something minor (though it is still quite major to many, e.g., I have running water and sewage). At other times I sense the magnitude of the divine gifts to me.

But gratitude is ultimately not about the stuff and comforts of my American lifestyle. It is the praise of the God who loved me when I thought I was unlovable. It is the praise of the God who communes with me even when I feel so unworthy. I gratefully enjoy God’s presence.

A ten-word summary? Impracticable? Insufficient? Probably. But the exercise forced me to think about what I really believe is important. It focused what I really want my legacy of faith to be.  Trust, love, joy, gratitude–these are the words that matter to me and they have not always been the focus of my journey.

Thanks, Leon. You challenged me to focus again and reminded me of what is truly important.

Do you have a suggestion for a ten-word summary? Share it with us.

 

 

David Lipscomb (1912)

As I continue to study and think about the Texas, Tennessee and Indiana Traditions within Churches of Christ in the first decades of the 20th century, I have  been reading through the Gospel Advocate in those early years of the last century.  I thought I would provide a sampling of what has interested me in the editorials of David Lipscomb in his 81st year of life.  Here are few “gems.”

Opposing the Rebaptists of Texas.  Lipscomb is still very much concerned about the sectarianism of the rebaptist position. He wrote several articles at the beginning of 1912 on the question. In one he thought the rebaptist position begat extremes among the Baptists and that Baptists and disciples had much more in common than different in their understanding of baptism. When a Baptist was accused by a Rebaptist of denying certain truths about baptism, Lipscomb thought it “imaginary” (remember that Lipscomb was a former Baptist himself).

None such ever occurred or will occur. Especially is this true in places and communities where the Bapitst have not had to struggle with the misrepresentations of our rebaptist friends. One extreme begets another, and the rebaptist extreme leads to this Baptist extreme. The two extremes lead to restrictions of both parties.[1]

Rebaptists believed that one had to have a precise understanding that baptism was the moment of salvation (“for the remission of sins”) as a condition for the validity of the baptism. Lipscomb opposed this. One of the common arguments made by Rebaptists was that just as one had to understand the design of the Lord’s Supper to authentically participate, so one had to understand the design of baptism to experience authentic baptism.  Lipscomb addressed this point in a poignant way that drew the argument into the larger world of how God deals with humanity in their weaknesses.

The example [the disciples at the Last Supper, JMH]  is not very flattering to humanity, but one that very strongly commends to us the love and condescension of God. It invites us to love and humility, condescension and helpfulness, to the poverty and needs of humanity. Let us look in kindness and pity on human mistakes and infirmities and bless and help as we need help and blessing. The forbearing, humble, helpful spirit that leads us to help the weak, forbear with the ignorant, and lend an uplifting and helping hand to every child of mortality is as much a part, and a vital part, of the religion of Jesus as the belief of any proposition or truth connected with that religion. Man is much more intolerant and ready to condemn and repel the children of men from the helps and privileges of gospel truth than God is. Let one take the mental and moral condition of those who partook of the first Supper under the direction of Jesus and compare them with the intelligence and standing of those they reject and repel [those immersed to obey God, JMH], and he must feel the inconsistency. Our mission and work is to bury and hide shortcoming and imperfections in faith and life, and, while teaching the will of God as he gave it, to encourage the weakest and most feeble to walk in his ways as he has given it and as far as they understand it. The work of Jesus in the ordination of the Supper is often as much violated and set as naught as the rights of those who believe baptism is for the remission of sins. Let us cherish and walk in the spirit of Christ. Both Baptists and many disciples are sinful in their exclusiveness in religion.[2]

The Sermon on the Mount. In a couple of series on the “religion of Jesus,” Lipscomb concentrates on the Sermon on the Mount. According to Lipscomb, ”our present and eternal peace depend upon doing what God commands in this Sermon.”[3] There were many interesting observations in his articles. But I thought this one particularly noteworthy as it contrasted with what the Texas and Indian Traditions stressed–and a growing number in the regions of Tennessee.

The mission of Jesus into the world was to bring the world back under the dominion or rule of God, into his kingdom, under his rule or authority. This was the end or purpose of the mission of Jesus….So they were to pray, ‘Thy kingdom come,”—that his rule or dominion on earth be established. Many looking at this from its bearing on the teachings of this age conclude this prayer now should not be made. Those persons confuse the opening or establishment of the kingdom with its dominion, rule, or completion of its work of bringing the whole world under the authority and rule of God. The establishiment of the kingdom of God in the world and the completion or end of that work are two wholly different things or ends. So long as the world or any part of the human family are not in the kingdom of God and not in obedience to his law this petition may and should be humbly made for God to aid and bless the children of God in subjecting the world to him….When God’s will is done on earth as it is done in heaven, it will change the earth of woe and suffering into a heaven of bliss and joy.[4]

Hermeneutics–The Function of the Gospels.  One of the more surpsing but invigorating articles by Lipscomb was his discussion of the role of the Gospels, Acts and Epistles in New Testament theology. While many divide the New Testament at Acts 2 and derive their ecclesiology from Acts and the Epistles, Lipscomb insisted on the centrality of the ministry and teachings of Jesus in the Gospels. Hold on to your hat for this one.

To object to what Jesus psoke and made known before his death is to attack the genuiness and validity of any will from him. Jesus himself said: ‘The law and the prophets were until John: from that time the gospel of the kingdom of God is preached, and every man entereth violently into it.” (John [sic; but he means Luke, JMH] 16:16.) Those who fix the reign or law of Jesus Christ after the death of Christ need to study the teachings of Jesus.

All that Jesus Christ spoke or gave to the world consitituted a portion of the will of Jesus that went into effect after his death…The laws of Jesus Christ are given in the sayings and teachings of Christ recorded in the four biographies of Christ. [Yes, you read that correctly, JMH]

The law is given in the personal teachings of Jesus. The Acts of Apostles and the Epistles are the applications by inspired teachers of the king to the churches and the applications of the Bible to the facts of life as they arise in the world [occasionality? JMH]. These applications and exemplifications of the truths of the Bible to the workings of the world greatly help in the study of the Bible by the common people. But there is not a truth or a thought in the application of these parables that is not in the teaching of Jesus…Jesus is the lawgiver. The whole law of God to the world is taught by him. The Acts of the Apostles and Epistles explain what the teachings mean, but they do not add to or detract from them. A change or modification in the teachings of Jesus would be treason against him and God.[5]

That is just a taste.  More to come at another time.

References

[1] David Lipscomb, “Difference between Baptists and Disciples,” Gospel Advocate 54 (4 January 1912) 17

[2] David Lipscomb, “Jesus Christ and the Rebaptists,” Gospel Advocate 54 (11 January 1912) 45, 49.

[3] David Lipscomb, “The Religion of Christ Made Easy. No. 4,” Gospel Advocate 54 (28 March 1912) 401.

[4] David Lipscomb, “The Religion of Christ Made Easy,” Gospel Advocate 54 (7 March 1912) 305.

[5] David Lipscomb, “When Was the Will of Christ Made?” Gospel Advocate 54 (2 May 1912) 554.

David Lipscomb (1912)–More Gems

The octogenarian David Lipscomb, knowing his last years were upon him, intentionally broached subjects and pressed points that he hoped would shape the future of the church. Here are few examples.

Debates Need to End. Lipscomb thought that debates between “Baptists and disciples” needed to change or cease. They needed to stress the commonalities more than the differences. He believed much more united them than divided them.

It has been a growing thought in my mind for some years that the end or purpose of debates among professing Christians should be changed. Now they debate to see how much and how far they differ. Each tries to make the faith of the other look as bad as possible. That is not a kind and fraternal way of treating each other. Doctor Loftin and Brother [F. W.] Smith have been discussing the differences between the disciples and the Baptists. In doing this they were compelled to observe the points of agreement. Without the knowledge of either of them, I propose that they discuss and show the points of agreement between them. They both believe in the Bible as the word of God; in God, the Father; in Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Savior of the world; in the Hooly Spirit, who came to the world to guide men in the paths of salvation. They both believe in faith, repentance and baptism into Christ….The controversy is as to the point at which, in his mind, God forgives the sins of one coming to him. Does man’s knowledge of the point at which God forgives sin hinder or help God in forgiving when the sinner comes to the place in the path of obedience? [1]

General Booth and the Salvation Army. Lipscomb’s preference for the poor is on full display as he comments on the death of William Booth (1829-1912), the founder of the Salvation Army.

But he was not a man to be laughed out of his work. His work was a much-needed, but neglected, work. It was a God-approved work. God has instructed his children to preach to the poor. They were not, are not, doing it. When the world saw Booth, a man of faith and energy and life, engage in the work, they responded promptly to his call and helped forward his work. He has moved the whole religious world on this point of preaching to the poor. That was a needed work. It is a work, an effort in a direction to which all should respond. All should magnify the work of preaching to the poor and helping the needy by all speaking well of, and encouraging in a right way, the work ordained by God. The work of helping and preaching to the poor should be exalted and magnified by the children of God leading in and exalting that work, by Christians doing it in God’s appointed ways and through the provisions he has made. [2]

Humble Obedience. In his continuing war against rebaptism, Lipscomb constantly stressed the nature of true obedience. It was not a matter of perfect or precise understanding but about trust (faith). This piece goes to the heart of his argument against rebaptism. Saving obedience is not about precision, perfection or even fully accurate understanding. It is about the mercy of God.

The letters to the churches show much weakness and many mistakes and wrongs among Christians in the early ages of the church; but not once do we find a person rejected or required to do his work over again for weakness of faith or misunderstanding requirements. To do this is something new under the sun, and is of man, not of God. I had rather go before God realizing my weakness and liability to sin, trusting him for mercy and pardon, than to go relying upon my good understanding and obedience to the perfect will of God. I hope and trust to be saved, not by the fullness and correctness of my understanding of God’s will, but by his love and mercy to all who want to serve him. [3]

“Poor in Spirit” the Key to Unity. This comment is from 1911 but it dovetails with the previous point. Again in conversation with Rebaptists, he stressed that their sectarianism is destroying not only the unity of God’s people but undermining the priority of faith.

The first prerequisite for entrance into the kingdom of God is, one should feel ‘poor in spirit.’ He must feel his own lack of spiritual power or resources before he can come to God in an acceptable spirit, in a spirit that God will accept. The spirit that feels its poverty, its helplessnesses, its need of guidance and strength, is the one that God looks on with pity and compassion and is willing to lift up and guide.”

We have pleaded for the union of Christians. Our work has been felt. Are we fit to still lead on in this work? While emphasizing truths connected with this union, have not we become sectarian ourselves? Many have espoused a common sectarianism with the churches around us [the Disciples of Christ, JMH]. Are not many others moving into a sectarianism in opposition to others [the Rebaptists, JMH]? Let us be humble and faithful, looking to God for help and guidance, and not be self-sufficient.

‘For remission,’ or ‘into the remission of sins,’ occupying its God-given place among other blessings leading to obedience, is a wholesome doctrine, full of comfort and blessing; but, taking out of it place and exalted above other blessings and favors promised by God, it becomes a party ensign and hinders rather than helps forward the union of God’s people and the salvation of the world. God makes all of his truths helpful in leading men forward in the work of salvation, yet he demands that his requirements should all be treated alike, each occupying the place assigned it by God himself. To exalt one promise or one duty above another is to mutilate and subvert the plan of salvation and hinder rather than help to save man. Faith in Jesus Christ as the great, leading, far-reaching principle that molds the life and leads to and helps every act of service, God has placed before and above all other services of man. The acts of obedience that grow out of faith, as fruits of faith, come in to complete and finish the character and life of the believer, and to fit it for a home with God. [4]

Overemphasis on Baptism? What does it mean to preach the Word? Lipscomb saw among his contemporaries some dangerous tendencies and he called them back to the fundamentals of Christianity—the Sermon on the Mount. Once again, for Lipscomb, the gospel is not simply the death and resurrection of Jesus, it is the good news of the kingdom breaking into the world to transform lives as into the image of Christ.

Every spiritual system as a standard of excellence to which it proposes to bring man….The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5, 6, 7) gives the theory and rules of life to attain that standard. The principles laid down in the Sremon on the Mount, lived up to as Jesus did, would produce the life he lived….That Sermon is the perfection and consummation of the gospel of God to the world. To teach and preach these truths and principles to man is to bring the gospel in its fullness to man

There is no virtue in believing, repenting, and being baptized unto the remission of sins, and then doing nothing to left up and help men as Jesus labored to help them. Nothing short of the full life of Christ as an example and help to man is the gospel. How few of us realize this truth! When we preach faith, repentance, and baptism, we satisfy ourselves and teach others that we have preached the gospel, and those who act on these teaching think that they have obeyed the gospel. Hence the immense number who come into the church and imagine their salvation is secure and do nothing more. Young men often come to the Bible School and want to get up sermons that will enable them to debate with the sects. To qualify a young man to debate with the sects is nine times out of ten to make him a sectarian. Having truth does not hinder sectarianism. A man may hold the truth, not in the love of it; he may hold it to build up his party, not to honor God and save sinners. Sectarianism is sinful whether it is based on the truth or not. Training young preachers to debate is not to educate them in the needed Bible teaching. Often it is hurtful to a young man’s usefulness and his after life to make a debater of him. The debating spirit is often not the Christian spirit. The spirit that suffers and stands steadfast unto the end is the one that God [5]

The more I read Lipscomb the more I appreciate his heart for the poor, the humility of his spirit, his earnest desire to obey God in every thing, and his hatred of sectarianism. 

Footnotes

[1] David Lipscomb, “A New Discussion Proposed,” Gospel Advocate 54 (19 Dec 1912) 1377.

[2] David Lipscomb, “General Booth,” Gospel Advocate 54 (19 Sept 1912) 1049

[3] David Lipscomb, “God is Best Pleased with the Humblest and Most Obedient Trust in Him,” Gospel Advocate 54 (30 May 1912) 671.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Religious People Hard to Move,” Gospel Advocate 53 (2 March 1911) 268-69.

[5] David Lipscomb, “’Preach the Word,’ Gospel Advocate 53 (25 May 1911) 587, 590.

Holy Saturday: In the Grave He Lay

Good Friday and then Easter!

But a day is missing in that story. To move from Friday to Sunday one must walk through Saturday.

Saturday, however, is a lonely day. Death has won. Hope is lost. Jesus of Nazareth lies in a tomb. His disciples are afraid, hiding and deeply depressed. Everything they had invested in for the past three years seems pointless now.  They are leaderless, hopeless and aimless.

Holy Saturday is the day we sit by the grave. It is the day to feel the gloom of the grave, to face the reality of death itself. It is a day to weep, fast and mourn. The late second century church (e.g., Irenaeus) fasted from all food on this day because it was a day of mourning. They did not break the fast till Easter morning.

Those of us who have spent time at graves–in my case the grave of a parent, wife and child–understand this grief, the despair of the grave. I have spent much of my life running away from graves, and have rarely spent much time thinking about Holy Saturday.

It is much easier to skip from Friday to Easter than to dwell on Holy Saturday. It is like, as happened in my life, skipping grief as much as possible. It is easier to run from grief, escape it rather than face it.

Holy Saturday reminds me to grieve, to lament. It reminds me to rail against death, the enemy of both God and humanity. It reminds to protest death and renew my hatred for it. It reminds to feel again and sit with the disciples in their despair.

Indeed, to sit with the disciples in their despair is to sit with humanity in the face of death. When we sit at the grave we recognize our powerlessness. We cannot reverse death; we cannot defeat this enemy. Holy Saturday creates a yearning for Easter. We need Easter for without it we are dead.

Today (Friday) we remember the death, tomorrow we sit at the grave, but on Sunday we are renewed by the hope of the resurrection. 

Jesus walked that path and we follow him.  We, too, will have our Friday, one day we will be entombed in a grave, and–by the grace and mercy of God–on that great day we will rise again to walk with Jesus upon the new heaven and new earth.

That is the meaning of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter.

Evangelical Crucicentrism: A Post-Easter Reflection

David Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain (1989), 3, identifies biblicism (sola scriptura), conversionism (“born again”), activism (missions, historic social engagement such as abolition, temperance, abortion, etc.) and crucicentrism as marks of historic British Evangelicalism.

Each of these resonates with me as an important dimension of American Evangelicalism and, more particularly, as part of the story of Churches of Christ in the 20th century with the exception of activism. Our “conversionism” had a different definition than Evangelicalism as we stressed conversion through the “five steps of salvation.”

But tonight, on this Easter evening, crucicentrism–the focus on the cross as the atoning work of Christ as the redemptive act of God–is my concern. Bebbington’s identification is spot on, I think, and I see it in my own tradition.

For example, how many Evangelical songs focus on the cross but how few focus on the resurrection? I can count on one hand the repetorie of resurrection songs available to the church on Easter (and that is about the only time we sang them) but I would have to use my toes and several hundred people to count the number of “Cross” songs available and regularly sung throughout the year.

Another example is resurrection sermons within historic Evangelicalism and among Churches of Christ were mostly–if not wholly–apologetic in character. Oh, of course, there was the theological nod to our future resurrection and present hope, but the focus was usually upon the evidential value of the resurrection rather than its theological meaning. It was as if the ministry and life of Jesus proved he was the Son of God by miracles and sinless life and the resurrection was the capstone demonstration of such.

I recognize that the resurrection declares Jesus’ sonship (e.g., Romans 1:4), but it does this in more pregnant ways than simply validating or verifying a truth claim. For example, as Moltmann and Pannenberg have taught me, the resurrection is itself an eschatological event within history; it is an act of God that comes from the future. The resurrection participates in the future; it is the future present within history. Resurrection is theological promise and present hope.

Moreover, resurrection–as recent discussions of the new heaven and new earth reflect–is an affirmation of creation itself. The body has a future; creation has a future. Jesus, as a raised human, is the new humanity–embodied, material, and the inaugurator a renewed creation.  And much more could be said about the theological meaning of the resurrection, including ethics.

Resurrection is also a redemptive event; not just the Cross. Incarnation is a redemptive event, not just the cross. The Ministry of Jesus is a redemptive event, not just the Cross.

Crucicentrism, in my opinion, actually distorts the fullness of the gospel, the good news.  The good news of the kingdom, which Jesus himself preached, is broader and fuller than the Cross itself. Jesus preached the gospel before he ever said a word about his death. The Cross is redemptive, atoning and salvific–no doubt in my mind, but so is the Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus as well.

Crucicentrism, it seems to me, is a heavy-handed emphasis on and exaggeration of some Pauline language. Often Paul balances cross and resurrection (e.g., Romans 4:25), but sometimes he only mentions the cross (e.g., 1 Corinthians 2:2-5). Paul’s boasting in the cross has been extracted as his central core rather than reading those texts in the context of the specific occasions of his preaching (e.g., the focus on “Christ crucified” in 1 Corinthians 2 stresses the weakeness in which God came just as Paul himself came in weakness to Corinth).

When we read the Gospels Jesus’ death as a theological event receives little emphasis except as it is narrated (which is huge, of course). When we read the preaching in Acts, the resurrection is stressed rather than the death and little theological meaning is attached to the death in those sermons (which contrasts with standard Evangelical preaching on the Cross).

My point is not that we should never talk about the Cross or explore its meaning.  God forbid!  My point is that crucicentrism does not give sufficient attention to the Christ Event as a whole. It does not recognize the equal importance of Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension. Crucicentrism tends to relegate Incarnation and Ministry to necessary conditions for the Cross and Resurrection and Ascension as rewards of Christ’s obedient death, and thus the Cross stays at the center (crucicentrism). But I think that underplays the theological meaning of Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension. It is not the Cross that is at the center, but Christ–the whole Christ.

The Gospel is Good Friday through Holy Saturday into Easter Sunday.  But the Gospel is also Christmas and Pentecost. The Gospel is also Epiphany (with the Eastern emphasis, not the reductionistic Western one). The Gospel is the story of Jesus Christ come into the world to redeem the world through his Incarnation, Ministry, Death, Resurrection and Ascension.

David Lipscomb (1911)

Continuing my reading of Lipscomb in the first decades of the 20th century, I have lifted a few more what I regard as illuminating comments by the 80 year old editor of the Gospel Advocate.

Publish Both Sides for Free Discussion. Lipscomb believed that fair, thorough and open discussion of a biblical issue was the best course to follow. Truth would reign in such a situation and evil would be vanquished. Consequently the Gospel Advocate under his editorship published both sides of a discussion (part of the Tennessee Tradition of open discussion).  However, not everyone followed this policy such as Joe S. Warlick of The Gospel Guide (Texas Tradition paper) and Daniel Sommer of the Octographic Review (Indiana Tradition). When B. C. Goodpasture excluded NI (non-institutional) writers from the Gospel Advocate in the 1950s, this was one of the premier articles referenced by the excluded (cf. Fanning Yater Tant, “I Would Cease to Read It,” Gospel Guardian 6.12 [29 July 1954] 5).

This good has come from holing the Gospel Advocate open to discuss the evils of introducing into the church things not required by God. Evil has seemed to grow out of this by the failure to treat the subject as God directs. If these evils are not discussed, we disobey God and leave evil to run riot in the churches. Evil will grow up in the churches, and the failure to expose it is to invite the evil…I said: ‘I do not read [Joe S.] Warlick’s paper, because he will not publish both sides of a question.’…Brother [Daniel] Sommer, of the Octographic Review, adopted this policy some years ago, the only example of it I had ever known among disciples. I ceased to read his paper, and we get along so peaceably. The Guide adopts the same plan. I treat both alike…I would like to see all of us get along pleasantly and harmoniously in obeying the commands of God. But if the Gospel Advocate were to adopt this policy of criticizing others and refusing to let them reply, I would cease to read it. [1]

Women and Public Speaking.  If there is any question where Lipscomb reveals his enculturation, it is on the question of women in the church and society.  When he was asked about the practice of some Sommer churches in the north that permitted women to lead prayer, read Scripture and exhort the assembly, his response is quite strict. He extends the prophibition against public speaking to outside the assembly of the church.  To his credit, however, he did publish a response from Silena Moore Holman who was not only an elder’s wife but the president of the Tennessee chapter of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Movement. This is a woman with whom Lipscomb had significant disagreements–she was a public speaker and politically involved. Nevertheless, he published both sides.

Again, there is no law prohbiting women’s speaking under the Jewish law. So the failure to authorize them to speak under that law amounted to a prohibition to speak. The same rule holds good now. While the language in 1 Cor. 14 certainly embraces the Lord’s-day meeting, it is difficult to say that it is confined to it.

All the reasons given and the facts stated condemn woman’s leadership in other places as well as in the church on Lord’s day…All public teaching and speaking on any subject at any place puts woman out of place, out of her God-given work. She is by nature and disposition suited to a quiet, retiring service. She may use these conditions to teach and develop her abilities and work as a teacher and instructor of all.

God forbids woman to take a leading public part in teaching people at any time; but she may in a quiet, modest way teach the Bible to men, women and children, at home or a place of meeting. God has appointed but one regular, necessary meeting on the Lord’s day, where certain worship is to be performed. He allows other meetings for worship as his children may approve. But woman is not permitted to take a leading part in any of them. She may instruct in a modest way where men fail to do it. All meetings of the church are church meetings. Some are for specific purposes; others to teach, encourage, and help each other. Women ought to be modest at all of them. Men should be active to lead, and all things will work well. [2]

Women Baptizing? In response to a question from a reader, Lipscomb opposed this as a public leadership role. It did not suit the role of woman in both society and church to have such a public face. In his response Lipscomb reveals his prejudice against immigrant Catholics who are proliferating in “northern lands” because progressive women seek careers and public leadership rather than bearing and raising children.

God never called woman to such public works….there is no intimation that they will be saved from it, or blessed in seeking to do man’s work as a leader and guide of man….Some Southern women are following in the steps of these [progressive women, JMH] and are becoming public speakers and business managers, and they are failing to bear children, and in a generation or two the Catholics will take the lead here. [3]

Or, in another place, when he is concerned about how men are retreating from leadership in the church, he wrote:

 There are two causes that lead men to cease to attend the church and take part in the teaching and worship of the church. The first is, the women are forward to take part in the service, and especially to lead and teach….The Bible, taken as a whole, in all its works and institutions, makes woman a home keeper and imposes on her the work of bearing and rearing children. To this work, if not perverted, her tates and inclinations will lead her. Let us all faithfully and truly work as God has appointed, and he will abundantly bless.” [4]

The Work of Jesus is the Work of the Church.  Lipscomb has a consistent emphasis on the relationship of the church to the poor and weak. Here is a succinct but profound statement of his position that one can see in almost every other editorial by Lipscomb in these last years.  I wonder why he sense a deep need to emphasize it–cultural shifts in the church, or at his age he simply emphasized what he thought was most important. In any event, here is a good example:

 How many professed Christians are there that give time and labor to help the poor and needy, the sick and destitute in the world? Are professed Christians more apt to do good in helping others as Christ did than those not Christians? The work of the Christian is to do the work of Jesus. The spiritual body of Christ, the church, should continue the work he did in the fleshly body. So being trained to the same work, we may be fitted to dwell with him in his home. If we cannot and do not the work of Jesus, it is because we are none of his. [5]

In my opinion, Lipscomb is batting .500 for his views in this post.  I’m grateful that both he and I are saved by grace through faith rather by a knowledge that bats 1.000 (or, what batting average is required if it is not by grace?).

Footnotes:

[1] David Lipscomb, “Difficulties and Differences Among Christians,” Gospel Advocate 53 (12 January 1911) 44-45

[2] David Lipscomb, “Information Wanted on the ‘Woman Question’,” Gospel Advocate 53 (19 January 1911), 78-79.

[3] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 53 (26 October 1911), 1222.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Stopping the Leak,” Gospel Advocate 53 (14 December 1911) 1454-5.

[5] David Lipscomb, “Can We Too Rigidly Follow God’s Law,” Gospel Advocate 53 (9 March 1911) 303.

David Lipscomb (1910)

Towards the end of 1909 David Lipscomb fell seriously ill and was unable to write for the Gospel Advocate. When he returned to writing in 1910 he had much to say as he approached his 80th year of life.

What is Most Important To Him.  In the first issue of 1910, Lipscomb summarized his primary interest in continuing his writing.  Here we get a glimpse of this man’s heart. Notice that for Lipscomb God’s actions are for the “race and world”–salvation belongs to humanity but also to creation!

But to God as the Creator, Preserver, Sympathizer with man, one soul is much. Else God had never clothed himself in human form and Jesus had never died. Christ’s mission, death, and sorrow for man were God in sympathy with and suffering for his creature, proclaiming his goodness, mercy, and love to a lost and sorrowful world. And all he aks of us now to repay his love and condescension to this race and world in ruin is to trust and follow him and show we appreciate his wisdom and love by trusting and obeying him. We must let him lead us….We have tried to understand the true relationship of man to God and have sought to so serve God and to teach others so to do. Our remaining days on earth cannot be many; our writings for the future must be few; our desire is that they shall be with increasing zeal in the way we have traveled, that God may bless us and we may lead others in the way of salvation.[1]

On Civil Government. When Lipscomb received an affirmation for his book entitled Civil Government, he offered the following comment on the book itself and the importance of the question it addresses. In the light of the last election and April 15th’s “tea parties” perhaps it is an opportune moment to hear Uncle Dave once again.

Were I to rewrite the book, I would change some of the arguments. I would modify the positions on some scriptures. A few points I would explain a little differently, and some passages that were left out altogether I would introduce. I would do this, not because I have abated my faith in the truth of the position one particle, but to make it conform in all respects to the truth. As a sample, one of the scriptures condemning Christians looking to the political government to settle difficulties and troubles is 1 Cor. 6:1-1; yet, as I remember, this passage is not noticed in the book. There is an application of the allusions to some of the political kingdoms of this world that I think not correct. But I have not abated or lost confidence in the least in the truthfulness of the position. I do not believe the church can ever be clean and holy with its members commingling in the political affairs of the world. It is probably that I have done wrong in failing to press the truth as I should have done. The difficulty of holding men up to the position, the readiness of those who professed to believe the truthfulness of the position to fly into an excitement and politically fury and do bitter denunciation because some election or some political movement did not suit them, all has had a tendency to discourage me, and I ceased to press it. I would rejoice to see brethren take hold of the subject and press it as a great issue on which the welfare of the church and of Christians depend. Christians will never be loyal and true to God while engaging in political strifes. [2]

The Making of Sectarians. He claims the disciples of Christ have tended to either join the sects (and thus become sectarian or one denomination among others as in the Disciples of Christ or Christian Church) or to exalt a particular text of Scripture (and thus create a new sect as in the case of the Rebaptists). In light of the latter, Lipscomb calls for preaching the whole of Scripture rather than focusing on a few texts (“textuary” preaching) which ultimately amounts to proof-texting. The kind of “text” preaching he dismisses here is not preaching from Scripture’s narrative (e.g., teaching a chapter of Scripture and plowing through a book) but focusing on a text to make a polemical point without hearing the flow of Scripture itself. Preaching and teaching is about conveying what the Bible says rather than “skinning the sects” (a favorite description of militant preaching in the Texas Tradition).

The preachers and teachers claim to know the gospel, but the knowledge is very much confined to the people to ‘be baptized for the remission of sins.’ Many at the protracted meeting are moved to this obedience; when this was done, they claimed they were saved, attended meetings no more, and ,of course, drifted into sin and rebellion against God—became practical infidels….There was and is ground for the charge of Mr. Ditzler that a “Campbellite’s Bible could be told, because it is worn and soiled at the second chapter of Acts and a few other passages, but not soiled in the other places”….When a man exalts one passage above of scripture above any other, he is in danger of become sectarian. The war against sectarians itself become sectarian. Man is weak and frail and liable to become a partisan or sectarian. Two parties of sects or sectarians spring up among those making war on sects or parties in religion. One, as the original fervor for the discovered truth cooled, fell in with the parties and sought to become one with the popular religious parties—a party among parties—and so to affiliate with the religious parties of the day and country. The other party magnified the truth discovered above all other truths and became a sect or party in behalf of this truth above all other parties and sects. The man who exalts and magnifies ‘for remission’ above other inducements and incentives to obedience laid down in the Scriptures makes himself a sectarian against or in opposition to sectarians. Into one of these two parties or sects the disciples have strong tendencies to go. But all sects or parties in religion are sinful. They exist in the providence of Gold to test and prove the faith of Christians and to show the fidelity of Christians to God and his word. …The textuary preaching is liable to lead into one-sided ideas of God’s will and should be carefully guarded….Our teaching from texts leads to the exaltation of our own theories and the ignoring of other scriptures. [3]

The Nashville Bible school has been in existence nineteen years. During these years the teachers have never taught a lesson showing what or how to preach, nor to defend a system or theory of doctrine. The come to the Bible in the spirit of learners, to learn and know what the Bible teaches….The majority of young preachers—and old ones, too—had rather be fixed up with a sermon or a series of sermons ‘to skin the sects’ than to be taught the great truths of the Bible. I favor no compromise of truth, but ‘skinning’ the sects and fighting them is well-calculated to make sectarians of us. Compromising with them makes us fellow-sects with them. [4]

 Women Teaching Men in Sunday Bible Classes? Yes!.  While Lipscomb opposed women teaching in “public” and in the assembly of the church, he thought they should be teaching at all other times. This included teaching Sunday Bible classes with men present.  He did not think that women who taught a Bible class with men were violating God’s limitations.

Philip’s daughters prophesied at home to Paul and his company. (Acts 21:8, 9.) Men and women are so universally addressed together as one and the same that it is rejecting the word of God to say women are not as much commanded to teach the Bible as men are. The only difference is, they are not permitted to teach at certain times and in cetain manners. Women may teach and be taught at home, at the houses of strangers, as they travel through the country, at the meeting for preaching; they may take an ignorant preacher to themslves and teach him ‘the way of the Lord more accurately.’…At the Sunday school the woman does not usurp the place of a man in teaching all present. Only a few who wish to be taught or to teach attend. The woman does not teach before all who are present. She takes her class, old or young, to themselves and teaches them. I never saw it otherwise. In this course they obey the command given to teach the word of God to the people and to avoid the things prohibited to women as teachers and leaders of the men….Suppose a number of men, women, or children, or all combined, were willing to study the bible, and a woman was the best teacher they could find, and they were to meet at her house to get her help, and she was to teach them in studying the Bible; would she do wrong in helping them?…Suppose it was more convenient to meet at the meetinghouse and study the Bible at an hour not used for the regular church meetings, would this be sin? What makes it a sin to meet at the meetinghouse to study the word of God? [5]

Imperfect Obedience. Lipscomb stressed obedience to God’s requirements about as much as anyone could. Obedience was a core value for him and specifically doing exactly what God required, nothing more and nothing less. Nevertheless, he recognized that human beings understand God’s requirements imperfectly, obey imperfectly and that God is is merciful. I have assembled below a few examples below.

When asked about assurance….: “We must strive to walk in the steps of Jesus and so grow into the likeness of God. But with our best efforts to serve God, we will often fall short of doing his will. We are human. And never a day passes that a man can say: “This day I have done my whole duty.” We fall short; we make wrong steps; we are frail and imperfect. When we have done the best we can, we must be saved by the mercy and love of God. His grace is sufficient for us, but we never reach the point that we do not need his grace to save us….It was a blessing thing for humanity hat Jesus gave the example of the two men that went up into the temple to pray,’ and the assurance that the publican, who stood afar off, and ‘would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be though merciful to me a sinner,” “went down to his house justified rather than the other”—the self-righteous, self-sufficient Pharisee, who felt that he possessed all the virtues. God’s grace is revealed to our faith as sufficient to have all who continually strive to serve God, to do his will despite the weaknesses and frailties of humanity that cause men to fall short of a perfect obedience. What God requires is to be like Jesus in having no will of our own, but a constant, earnest desire to do just what God requires.” [6]

When asked whether a formal confession was necessary before baptism…: When a man openly confesses Christ by putting him on before the world, to rebaptize him because he had not confessed Christ is to make a mockery of the service. It shows a low idea and conception of God. It represents God as anxious to condemn a man and watching for an opportunity or excuse to condemn him. I have never known a man or a woman to be baptized that did not in that act declare faith in Jesus as the Christ. The apostles tell us of only one case that required rebaptism. Then they were not baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. To be rebaptized on light grounds brings reproach on the Bible. [7]

When asked about rebaptism….: Imperfect beings never perfectly understand anything. Imperfect beings never do anything perfectly. This is a contradiction. The spirit in which one should come to Christ is that of a little child, knowing but little, but trusting in God, and glad in his ignorance and helplessness to follow God and do what God desires him to do, and because God desires it. “Ye are my friends, if ye do the things I command you.” A better motive to do than because God commanded it never moved a man. [8]

God saves through imperfect obedience? For some that is heresy; for some it opens too many doors.  For me, I don’t see any other option and I am grateful for God’s mercy and grace.

Footnotes:

[1] David Lipscomb, “Another Year,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 January 1910) 13.

[2] David Lipscomb, “The Christian’s Relation to Worldly Government,” Gospel Advocate 52 (10 March 1910) 294.

[3] David Lipscomb, “The Rule of Faith,” Gospel Advocate 52 (9 June 1910) 688.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Bible Schools,” Gospel Advocate 52 (16 June 1910) 712-3.

[5] David Lipscomb, “Should Women Teach?” Gospel Advocate 52 (25 August 1910) 968-9.

[6] David Lipscomb, “Assurance of Pardon,” Gospel Advocate 52 (27 October 1910) 1184-5.

[7] David Lipscomb, “The Confession,” Gospel Advocate 52 (1 December 1910) 1337.

[8] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 October 1910) 1109.

Patternism, Division and Grace

Patternism does not entail division as long as it does not subvert grace and it graciously treats another believer with mercy. Rather, it is the attitudes, agendas and acidity of the people involved that generate division. Patternism itself is not to blame and neither is “restorationism’s” search for a pattern. When people are treated with gracious humility, patternism can be a fruitful discussion rather than an occasion of division. This is what Alexander Campbell intended from the beginning (though Campbell himself was not always the most humble of types ).

Ecclesiological Perfectionism Rejected.

Alexander Campbell certainly contended for an “ancient order” within the New Testament which he believed should be restored. Indeed, his good Presbyterian upbringing predisposed him to the idea of “order” and he continued to promote the notion of “church order” throughout his life (see his 1835 Millennial Harbinger Extra on Church Order).

However, as I pointed out in an earlier post, Campbell never intended his “ancient order” to function as the marks of a true church with the result that every other church which did not measure up to the “order” for which he contended was apostate. He explicitly denied that his conception of the “ancient order” should be used as a test of fellowship. He did, however, hope that it would be a platform for unity and strongly argued his case on the points at issue in hopes that others would adopt the “ancient order.”

So, Why the Divide?

That is a complicated and multi-faceted question. My interest in this post is very specific while I recognize the larger sociological, hermeneutical, sectional and theological differences that were involved in the division between Churches of Christ and the Disciples of Christ symbolically recognized in 1906 by the United States religious census.

I want to narrow my concern to David Lipscomb in particular. Reading through Lipscomb’s editorials in the 20th century, I was fascinated that Lipscomb consistently refers to the weaknesses and frailities of human beings in their seeking God. He applies this at many levels, but one application is ecclesiological.

Lipscomb was willing to forebear with congregation after congregation that disagreed with him on the missionary society and instrumental music. He spent most of his life in forebearance. He was one of the last to adopt a separatistic stance toward the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). It was, in many ways, a thirty-plus year trek. He recognized it by 1897, declared it so in 1907, and lamented it for the rest of his life.

At one level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because some prominent Disciples embraced higher criticism, doubts about the deity of Jesus, etc. (e.g., the seeds and fruits of modernism). This was significant as it evidenced, in Lipscomb’s mind, a different spirit and attitude toward Scripture itself. It was not merely a different understanding of how to apply Scripture but more importantly a denial of Scripture as the word of God.

At another level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because the “innovations” disrupted the harmony of the church as a whole, split many congregations, and evidenced a lack of love for the minority, usually the weak and powerless, within a congregation. In other words, his problem with the innovators was more basic than the innovation itself. He could bear with the innovation in love–and could even preach in congregations that used it–but he could not bear with the unloving actions of the innovators toward the powerless. The strife they created and how they treated the powerless were more fatal than the innovation itself because it evidenced a spirit of arrogance, power and willfulness.

The situation of the Woodland Street Christian Church is illustrative. Lipscomb and E. G. Sewell planted this congregation and Lipscomb himself paid over $1000 for the bricking of the building in 1876. Sewell preached regularly for the church till 1882 and continued as one of its elders until 1890. By 1887 it was the center of Society activity in Nashville–organizing, convening, governing and hosting the State society convention and then the General Convention from 1889-1892. Lipscomb, Sewell, McQuiddy and others all experienced such boldness as a personal affront. Sometime before 1890 the instrument was introduced into the congregation. By 1899 Lispcomb had named Woodland Street as the most digressive of the churches in Tennessee. In October 1890, Sewell and the McQuiddys pulled out of Woodland and established the Tenth Street church in Nashville. (Some of this story is told in Chris Cotten’s paper delivered at the Disciples of Christ Historical Society in 2008.)

The hurt, strife and utter disbelief that Christians could treat each other in such a way fueled Lipscomb’s loss of patience with the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). Ultimately, the emotional baggage was as significant as the theological, and the emotional hurt validated the perception that the Disciples of Christ (considered as a whole) acted in selfish, presumptive and unloving ways. Lipscomb had no patience for an arrogant, unloving spirit that abused the powerless. This is the real problem among the Disciples of Christ as he perceived it. As mistakes and failures of interpetation, innovations could be tolerated. But when they became the source of division and revealed the arrogance of the powerful (or majority), then the innovations were symptoms of a deeper problem.

Unlike Leroy Garrett who says that Lipscomb changed his mind about whether innovations should divide (The Stone-Campbell Movement, p. 401), I think it is better to say that Lipscomb came to believe that innovations were used to divide churches and it is this arrogant and power-seeking spirit that generated Lipscomb’s new attidue in the 1890s.

Grace in Sanctification.

Lipscomb had great patience and grace for the weak and struggling as long as they displayed an earnest desire to serve God and be obedient in everything they knew and could. He would even bear with the innovators as long as they were not divisive. One cannot read his editorials toward the close of his life without getting a deep sense of his love for the weak, his patience with their frailities, and his genuine desire to bear with them as they matured and grew in Christ.

Lipscomb often drew extended lessons from Jesus’ relationship with his disciples–both before and after his ministry among them. In the quotation offered below he focused on the experience of Jesus with his disciples at the Last Supper. Hear his call for mercy, patience and humility. It is, in my opinion, a stirring call for mutual forebearance–in this case between Rebaptists and disciples, and between Baptists and disciples (Lipscomb, “Jesus Christ and the Rebaptists,” Gospel Advocate 54 [11 January 1912] 45, 49).

This was a heroic band of worshipers to introduce the Lord’s Supper and the salvation of the world, was it not, especially when the leading one, Peter, is instructed, when he is convertred, to strengthen the rest…This shows the forebearance of Jesus with the sinner in his weakness and infirmity and his disposition to bear with and help the weak and needy. How many Christians now would be willing to bear with and partake of the Supper with a band they believed would be so offended (led into sin) that in a few hours all would forsake Jesus and deny they knew him? Christians ought to study the life and teachings of Jesus and from these learn meekness and forbearance with the tempted and tried. We ought to be meek and gentle as Jesus as. We ought to be longsuffering with the frail and erring and should strive to exercise forebearance and helpfulness toward those who go wrong. Jesus is our Savior and our Redeemer and seeks to help and save the lost.

The sin of Judas was from a lack of moral principle, a true regard for truth and justice. From this sin there seemed to be no recovery….The other disciples were honest and sincere, but failed through fear and the weakness of humanity. They recovered as soon as the threatening danger passed. But the human weakness remained, and Jesus dealt with the decision, but kindness and gentleness, of the Son of God and Savior of men. He drew the declaration of Peter’s love and devotion from him three times, as often as he had denied him, ending with the admonition to teach his brethren when he was converted…..

The example is not very flattering to humanity, but one that very strongly commends to us the love and condescension of God. It invites us to love and humility, condescension and helpfulness, to the poverty and needs of humanity. Let us look with kindness and pity on human mistakes and infirmities and bless and help as we need help and blessing. The forbearing, humble, helpful spirit that leads us to help the weak, forbear with the ignorant, and lend an uplifting and helping hand to every child of mortality is as much a part, and a vital part, of the religion of Jesus as the belief of any proposition or truth connected with that religion. Man is much more intolerant and ready to condemn and repel the children of men from the helps and privileges of gospel truth than God is. Let one take the mental and moral condition of those who partook of the first Supper under the direction of Jesus and compare them with the intelligence and standing of those they reject and repel, and he must feel the inconsistency. Our mission and work is to bury and hide shortcoming and imperfections in faith and life, and, while teaching the will of God as he gave it, to encourage the weakest and most feeble to walk in his ways as he has given it and as far as they understand it. The work of Jesus in the ordination of the Supper is often as much violated and set as naught as the rights of those who believe baptism is for the remission of sins. Let us cherish and walk in the spirit of Christ. Both Baptists and many disciples are sinful in their exclusiveness in religion.

Where Are We Today?

To use the terminology in vogue at Graceconversation.com, “progressives” and “conservatives” need a spirit of love, humility and selflessness in our dialogue at the congregational, institutional and virtual levels.

It seems to me that if we apply the theological notion of “grace in sanctification” toward each other, it would enable us to treat each other out of a disposition of weakness and humility. When we recognize that we are all engaged in the process of sanctification, that we are all imperfect, and that none of us has arrived theologically or ethically, then we can dialogue in a spirit of discovery and mutual understanding rather than condemnation and alienation. When we approach each other within the framework of sanctification, we may further the dialogue by hearing each other in order to learn rather than critique, to understand rather than condemn, and to appreciate rather than ridicule. When we season our words with grace rather than sarcasm we open the door to mutual understanding and mutual appreciation.

It very well may be that God is more concerned about how we dialogue and treat each other than he is with exactly where we differ. I do think God is concerned about both, but how we relate to others is what will image or fall short of God’s own relating to us with mercy and grace. Jesus’ patience with his own imperfect disciples and his anger toward the arrogant should give us all pause in our discussions. Whom are we more like? Humble disciples or arrogant religionists?

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” Matthew 5:7

“Mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:13b

“To the merciful you show yourself merciful.” Psalm 18:25

Children and the Kingdom of God

What disciple of Jesus would ever want to hinder children from coming to Jesus? I doubt if anyone would want to do that though the disciples, in the circumstance described in the Synoptic Gospels, did. Perhaps they were protecting a fatigued Jesus from the onslaught of the chaos of playful children….maybe that is what they thought. Who really knows? When Jesus rebuked them they must have cowered in their own embarrassment. I know I would have.

“Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” Luke 18:15-17 (cf. Mark 10:13-15; Matthew 19:13-14)

In line with my previous post, I want to suggest that something profoundly relevant to the contemporary church is uttered in this saying of Jesus. He is not talking about baptizing children [his ministry did not baptize children] nor is it simply a pithy morality saying about childlike humility. Rather, it says something about the status of children in the faith community.

Jesus invites children to come to him because (gar) the kingdom of God belongs to them.

I think we need to stew on that sentence for a while and let it sink deep into our theological souls. What does it mean to say that the kingdom of God belongs to children? What does it mean to invite children to experience Jesus because (not “so that”!) the kingdom of God belongs to them?

It seems to me that Jesus recognizes that children are the sons and daughters of God, that is, they belong to the kingdom of God. Jesus touches them, holds them and shares his love with them because children live and breathe the air of the kingdom of God.

Unfortunately many use this text to theologize and moralize about how adults should not hinder their children’s path to Jesus. While there is certainly nothing wrong about that point–and the disciples did hinder children–I don’t think this is the theological substance of the text itself. The reason adults should not hinder children is because children already belong to the kingdom of God and adults need to become like children themselves in order to participate in God’s kingdom.

The theological point is that children are kingdom people too! They do not stand outside the kingdom of God as if they are “heathens” seeking admittance or “sinners” needing conversion. To the contrary, they already belong to the kingdom. Jesus embraces them, loves them and enjoys them.

I think this speaks volumes regarding a “theology of children” within the contemporary church, especially among churches that only practice adult baptism. Just like these parents, we lead our children to Jesus so that they fall in love with him just as he loves (and has already loved) them. But our children do not come to Jesus as outsiders. Our children are not “potential disciples” or “conversion prospects,” but rather they belong to the kingdom. I regard them as “maturing disciples” (see Greg Taylor and I discuss this in Down in the River to Pray, pp. 210-215). They are not “non-members of church,” but members of the kingdom.

Consequently, we invite our children to participate in the faith community as members of the kingdom. We lead them to Jesus in age appropriate ways, and we lead them to the table where they, too, may eat with Jesus. We do not treat them as “non-members,” but as disciples in training for adulthood, as catechumens who already belong to the kingdom of God.

Ultimately, we lead them to Jesus so that they may follow him and become his disciple as they own their own faith. When they are ready to commit to the way of the cross–to take up their own cross and follow Jesus–then they will follow him into the water that they might also take up his mission as their own. Following Jesus into the water they own their own faith and affirm their kingdom allegiance.

Arminius–Review of a Recent Book

Given some recent comments, I thought I would share my review of a recent book that will soon appear in Restoration Quarterly. The author, Keith Stanglin, is a friend and former student (indeed, he was my Graduate Assistant for several years) at Harding University Graduate School of Religion. He now teaches at Harding University in Searcy, AR, after receiving his Ph.D. in historical theology at Calvin Theological Seminary (2006). Those interested in the Calvinism/Arminianism discussion might be interested to see his syllabus on that topic which has a significant number of helpful reading assignments and bibliography.

Keith D. Stanglin. Arminius on the Assurance of Salvation: The Context, Roots, and Shape of the Leiden Debate, 1603-1609. Brill’s Series in Church History, Volume 27. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2007. 285 pages.  Price? Don’t ask. 

2009 is the 400th anniversary of the death of Jacobus Arminius. While many have identified themselves as “Arminian” since his death, few have pursued scholarly and technical examinations of Arminius’ context and theology. Keith Stanglin’s thorough and substantive analysis is a welcome reprieve from cursory and superficial conversations about “Arminianism.” Indeed, this is the first monograph wholly focused on Arminius’ soteriology with special reference to its epistemology (how do I know I am saved?).

Based on his dissertation at Calvin Theological Seminary, Stanglin—who is Assistant Professor of Historical Theology at Harding University—makes several significant contributions to the study of Arminius. He contextualizes Arminius’ theology in the framework of Reformed theology and the debates that consumed his Leiden professorship from 1603-1609. This contextualization includes a comparison with the soteriology of Arminius’ contemporaries (e.g., William Perkins, Franciscus Gomarus). Further, he utilizes Arminius’ full Latin corpus, including unpublished Leiden disputations, as the basis for his analysis. This enables Stanglin to interpret Arminius’ soteriology in the specific context of his Leiden controversies. This has a significant impact on how one reads and understands this oft misunderstood Dutch theologian.

Stanglin argues that Arminius, despite his detractors, proposed a doctrine of assurance that was suited to the pastoral needs of believers. Arminius’ understanding of election is conceived in such a way that it preserves the love of God as the fundamental ground of the believer’s assurance. On this basis he rejected both unconditional election and irresistible grace, which are the primary soteriological differences between Arminius and Gomarus. Since faith is a “resistible gift, then defection from faith also may happen by free choice” (p. 141). According to Stanglin, apostasy was possible in Arminius’ soteriology.

Given the possibility of apostasy, what does assurance mean to Arminius? This is the major burden of the book and Stanglin rigorously explores Arminius’ “epistemology of salvation” (pp. 143-235). Assurance, for Arminius, is fiducia (a trusting tranquility that rests in God’s love for us) that avoids the twin pitfalls of desperatio (despair) and securitas (from sine cura, meaning, without care or careless; a kind of presumption). Arminius’ pastoral experience in Amsterdam from 1588-1603 alerted him to these dangers. He witnessed some despair as they suffered from the plague but also saw others arrogantly presume their election. While his contemporaries agreed with his concern about disperatio, Arminius “was a lonely voice in the struggle against securitas” (p. 152).

Stanglin demonstrates that securitas was usually understood as a negative quality arising from pride (e.g., Augustine and Luther). While Calvin used securitas and fiducia interchangeably (loosening the securitas from its historic moorings), he hinged securitas on the attitude of “godly fear” and distinguished between “simple security” and “carnal security” (pp. 163-4). Stanglin argues that early Reformed Orthodoxy (e.g., Gomarus) equated fiducia and securitas while Arminius wanted to preserve the historic caution against securitas as the fruit of pride. This did not undermine certainty (certitudo) but it did exclude presumption (praesumptio). Unfortunately, for Arminius, his assault on presumption took place at the moment when securitas had become a “new normal” for the Reformed understanding of assurance (p. 175). While characterizing securitas negatively, Arminius did affirm that fiducia yields assurance and certainty.

Interestingly, it is precisely because Arminius wants to avoid despair and presumption that he opposes unconditional election. On the one hand, Reformed soteriology may produce despair because ultimately authentic faith is practically indistinguishable from “temporary” faith (p. 183) and the despair this creates is “focused” on the believers’ inability to discern whether they are included in “God’s immutable decree” (p. 187). On the other hand, Reformed soteriology may produce an unhealthy security that leads to presumption due to a lack of godly fear about salvation. Unconditional election provides no functional deliverance from these two hazards.

Precisely because he rejects unconditional election Arminius affirms that fides yields fiducia which yields certitudo. The evidence or testimony that yields this conclusion is both objective—which is primary—and subjective. The subjective includes faith, testimony of the Spirit, good works, and the struggle between the flesh and the Spirit, which does not differ from his Reformed contemporaries (p. 204). The difference comes in the objective. For the Reformed the objective is God’s eternal decree. For Arminius it is the love of God.

Significantly, Stanglin argues, “Arminus views God’s love of humanity as something more than mere means (uti) towards the goal of his own glory (which is Reformed supralapsarianism, JMH), but as approaching enjoyment (frui), the beatitude of the creature as the end that God enjoys” (p. 220). In other words, the goal of God’s love is not his own glory as if God is egocentric but rather enjoying the communion of his creation. This is the fundamental ground of assurance—all believers know they are beloved. This belovedness, which Reformed believers cannot know absolutely since they cannot see into the divine decree, yields a present certainty without despair or presumption.

Stanglin has effectively and persuasively argued that assurance was not only significant for Arminius but it was his “principal” soteriological concern (p. 243). It was because the Reformed doctrine of predestination could not provide a “healthy doctrine of assurance” that Arminius dissented from the Reformed Orthodoxy of his colleagues. Assurance, then, was “both the point of departure and the conclusive goal of his system” (p. 244).

This is a significant book. It is one of only a few critical and substantial treatments of Arminius available. We can only hope that it will encourage others to follow Stanglin’s lead.

Theology in Outline (SBD 1)

Next week I will begin teaching a three week Maymester class at Lipscomb University.  The undergradaute course is entitled “Systematic  Biblical Doctrine.”  I don’t much like the title–as I will explain later, but it is a course where I introduce students to a narrative reading of theology for the sake of the church.  Over the next few weeks I hope to share on my blog something of what I share with them which is a primer course in Christian theology. 

Below is the basic outline I use in both my undergraduate and graduate systematic theology courses. I constantly debate with myself whether I should embed the hermeneutical and methodological assumptions into the narrative itself or address them as prolegomena.  I think I prefer speaking of them within the story; for example, discussing the nature/function of Scripture as part of the story of Israel and Church. But there is value in laying out my assumptions at the beginning and orienting students to the journey we will take together.

The outline includes some “focus” texts, narrates theology in the light of redemptive history (Creation to Eschaton–my six “Cs”), and summarizes key moments within the story by brief declarative statements.  My intent in the course is to unpack those statements as part of the narrative of God’s active, redemptive and loving pursuit of humanity and his creation. We are called to participate in that pursuit–both in response to God’s own initiative and as partners with God in his work.

Here is the brief outline.  I hope it whets your appetite for a bit of theology over the next three weeks. 

 

Participating in God’s Story:
A Narrative Reading of Theology for the Church

Living within the Story: Hermeneutical and Methodological Assumptions.

Texts: Titus; Acts 17; Romans 1; 2 Timothy 3:13-4:2; 2 Peter 1:20-21; Ephesians 3:1-6

1. The task of theology is to guide the people of God in their journey as divine imagers who mirror God’s own life and community.

2. The resources of theological reflection are Scripture (the norming norm), creation (general revelation and history) and experience (communal [tradition] and personal [existential]).

I. Creation: The Beginning of God’s Story with Us.

Texts: Genesis 1-2; Psalms 8, 104; Isaiah 44:24-28; 45:18-19; John 17:20-26

3. The divine community seeks communion with the created community and rejoices over creation.

4. God partners with humanity as divine representatives within the shalom-filled creation.

II. Crisis: The Emergence of a Rival Story

Texts: Genesis 3-11; Psalm 10; Romans 1:18-3:20

5. Humanity degenerates through a series of crises.

III. Covenant: God’s Redemptive Pursuit in the Story.

Texts: Genesis 12; Deuteronomy 4-6; Psalms 105-107; Isaiah 42:5-9;  Hosea 1-3, 11; Nehemiah 9; Matthew 23:37-39; Romans 9-11

6. God acts for the nations by creating Israel through which the holy love and redemptive intent of God are revealed.

7. God acts among the nations to shape Israel into a redemptive community that images God as a light to the nations.

IV. Christ: The Presence of the Future within the Story.

Texts: Isaiah 9:1-8; John 1:1-18; Matthew 4:12-25; Luke 4:14-30; Mark 10:35-45; Luke 24; 1 Corinthians 15:20-28, 44-49; Ephesians 1:3-14.

8. God, the Logos, becomes incarnate in order to bring light into the darkness as the Father’s Elect One.

9. The ministry of Jesus is the inbreaking of the future by the already present kingdom of God that culminates in his eschatological death and resurrection.

V. Church: A Spirit-Filled Community as Ongoing Story.

Texts: Acts 2:14-47; Galatians 3:26-4:7; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31; 1 Peter 3:8-4:11; Romans 6-8.

10. God, through the ascended reigning Christ, pours out the Spirit upon the believing community (church) for communion, transformation and empowerment.

11. The church is a community of redeemed humanity (salvation as past experience–Baptism).

12. The church is a community of transformed humanity (salvation as present experience–Table ).

13. The Spirit is at work to redeem and transform all creation through the church (missional ministry).

VI. Consummation: The End as New Beginning for the Story.

Texts: Isaiah 65:17-25; Romans 8:18-27; Revelation 21-22

14. God has always moved his story toward a cosmic goal (salvation as future experience).

Calvinists, Arminians and Assurance

In my previous post I summarized the conclusions of Keith Stanglin in his recent book Arminius on the Assurance of Salvation: The Context, Roots, and Shape of the Leiden Debate, 1603-1609. In this post, I want to offer an extended theological comment on the nature of assurance for Calvinists and Arminians. I will indulge this for one post before I move on to more personal concerns next week with the anniversary of my first wife’s death on the horizon (April 30). Your comments–even disagreements (surely there will be none, however )–are welcome.

My basic opinion is that in practice Calvinists and Arminians experience assurance by the same means. At one level they both claim the same objective grounds–the promise, love, mercy and grace of God (that is, that Christ died for us) and they claim the same basic subjective evidences–faith, fruit of sanctification, religious experience, etc (that is, the work of the Spirit in the believer).  The epistemology of present assurance (how do I know I am saved?) is answered with the same kinds of words, expressions and evidences. At root, both Calvinists and Arminians are assured by grace through faith.

It seems to me that this is an arena in which Calvinists and Arminians can acknowledge common ground. It is in the theory that they differ–and theories that often operate at inferential levels rather than with the plain statements of Scripture. I would rather we speak of assurance through faith than drawing out inferences to “make sense” of that assurance in the light of our theories. But, alas, our historical situation does not permit–so it seems–a unity at the pragmatic level of faith but we feel the incessant need to debate the theories as well. Nevertheless, this is where I tend to concentrate my thought and practice.

But–to speak of theories –my further opinion is that Arminians have a better theological ground for assurance than Calvinists. Or, perhaps to put it another way, Calvinists–in my opinion–obscure their assurance with a speculative doctrine of election that entails a postulate of “temporary faith” (Jean Calvin, Institutes 3.2.11; comment on Matthew 13:20 in his Harmony of the Evangelists). This notion salvages the Reformed doctrine of election from shipwreck on the rocks of those who lose their faith (a reality that we know from both Scripture and experience). It seems necessary to Calvinists–given the doctrine of election–to postulate that those who lose their faith never had authentic faith in the first place.  And, in fact, there are some people who apparently never really did have faith (cf. 1 John 2), but that does not mean that everyone who loses faith never had authentic faith unless we are protecting, as in Reformed theology, a particular understanding of the doctrine of election or seeking to harmonize that reality with a particular interpretation of a text.

That is fine as far as a logical move to seek harmony among various texts of Scripture. But the problem becomes how is one sure whether they have “temporary faith” or have “authentic faith”? Those who have temporary faith believe they have authentic faith–they can’t see a difference. For example, I remember a conversation with a friend at Westminster about a mutual friend who had lost their faith. My friend thought it was an example of “temporary faith” (or temporary loss that would later appear again in perseverance) but it puzzled me that our mutual friend when he believed really thought he did believe. By all appearances and, according to his own confession (unless he was dishonest), he fully embraced the gospel in heart and soul.

How can those who have authentic faith know their faith is authentic when those who have temporary faith think they have authentic faith? It is in this context that the doctrine of election is controlling how we think about assurance and faith. It introduces a reason for doubt in the minds of believers. And this is not a doubt about the subjective evidences of their faith, but a theological doubt  rooted in a theological theory that undercuts the objective ground of assurance itself. Because, if they have “temporary faith,” then God does not really love them, that is, he has not chosen (elected) them.

It seems to me better ground to say that God loves all, seeks the salvation of all, and that no one should doubt that Christ died for them and that God desires their salvation. Faith is trusting the love of God in Christ and knowing, by God’s own declaration, that Christ died for all and that God has salvific intent for me. I don’t have to know whether I am one of the elect to trust the word of God that Christ died for me, but rather through faith in God’s work for me in Christ I know that I am one of the elect. And I don’t have to wonder whether I am one of those who will eventually “go out” because I never really was one of the faithful. Instead, through faith I know I am one for whom Christ died and there is no necessity to entertain a theological doubt about “temporary faith.”

Now I believe Calvinists can mitigate this idea of “temporary faith” with Calvin’s own notion that the assurance of salvation is the assurance of election. But this places the mode of assurance in the same frame as Arminians themselves. We know our election through our present faith in Christ and not the reverse. Consequently, it seems to me that however one views election it does not have a telling effect on one’s assurance unless one places the doubt of “temporary faith” in the mind of the believer in order to protect a doctrine of election.

Assurance is faith in Christ; united with Christ we are assured our of salvation and we are united to him through faith. Here Calvinist and Arminian can stand on common ground with common faith: we are both saved by grace through faith. Even though I think Arminianism holds a better theory of assurance than Calvinism, I readily acknowledge that both access assurance by the same means: trust in the work of God for us and bearing the fruit of the Spirit’s work in our lives.

But I am an Arminian–as much as I can use categories of myself (in my opinion one who says they are neither or they transcend the discussion doesn’t really understand Arminianism or Calvinism–but that is just my opinion ). Consequently, according to my “theory,” I believe my present faith assures me because I know Christ died for me whereas the present faith of Calvinists logically wonders whether their experience of faith is actually temporary faith which contains no assurance that Christ died for them.  So, in that sense, I know that Christ died for me and through present faith I experience his love, but Calvinists are potentially uncertain whether Christ died for them because ultimately they do not know whether their faith is temporary or not until it perseveres to the end. Only in the perseverance of faith are Calvinists assured. And only through present faith and its perseverance are Arminians assured.  The two stand, pragmatically, on the same ground–we are saved by grace through faith.

Providence, Death and Grief

On April 30, 1980, Sheila Pettit Hicks, my wife of two years, eleven months, and eight days, died twenty days after recovering from back surgery. A blood clot stopped her heart while she slept at her parent’s home in Ellijay, GA.  This week is the 29th anniversary of that horrendous moment in my life. It shifted my life in unimaginable ways for me. Sometimes I still wonder about what would have been.

Less than a year after the event, when I was twenty-three, I wrote two articles for the Gospel Advocate in reflection on my experience. My articles are rather detached, highly theological, filled with suspect language (e.g., “proper” or “properly”) and a bit presumptuous. I have provided the text below of the two articles.  In the next few days I will comment on them in light of my present perspectives.

“Divine Providence and Human Lives (1),” Gospel Advocate 123.8 (April 16, 1981), 239, 244.

Divine providence is a difficult and seemingly elusive subject. Yet it is one which has loomed very important in my life this past year. On April 30, 1980 my wife of almost three years died at the age of 25. Since that time I have pondered the question of God’s control over human lives and the role he plays in our lives (deaths). My reaction to Sheila’s death was not to question whether or not God existed (as some agnostic might), but to question why God would permit such a thing. I want to share with you some of my thoughts concerning the role of providence in our lives. This article will set forth the broad outlines of providence and a second will illustrate how a proper understanding of providence helps the bereaved to overcome their grief.

The subject of providence has been complicated by two factors. First, some confuse the difference between miracles and providence. Both are acts of God, but they are effected through different means. A miracle suspends or supercedes the “laws of nature” while providence is God’s working through nature. The parting of the Red Sea was a miracle while our daily provision of food is providence, but both equally the work of God. Second, some either give no place to God in their affairs (as the Deists of the 18th century) or are idly expecting God to make all their choices for them. God does not wind up the world like a clock and sit back to watch it run down nor does he force choices upon the wills of men. Somewhere between these two extremes lies the Biblical concept of providence.

We may properly divide providence into three areas. First, God continually sustains the created natural order. Psalm 104 praises God for his work in nature. The Psalmist proclaims that rain (v. 13), the growth of grass (v. 14), food for the lions (v. 21) and the breath of animals (v. 29) are acts of God. If God removed his sustaining hand, all of nature would collapse. (Cf. Psalm 148:8; Colossians 1:17; Hebrews 1:3.) Second, God controls the nations of the world for his purposes. (Proverbs 21:1; Isaiah 10:5-19.) Daniel attributes the rise and fall of Kings to God himself. (Daniel 2:21; 4:25.) Thus, we are to pray for peace among nations and for our leaders because God can answer those petitions. (1 Timothy 2:1, 2.) He can answer such prayers because he is in providential control of the nations. (In the book of Revelation God answers prayers of the saints with the destruction of Rome, 8:3-5; 9:13.) Third, God oversees the lives of individuals (Proverbs 20:24.), especially the lives of the righteous. What God does in nature and among the nations affects both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45), but God has a special care for his own people (Psalm 37:25). It is this last aspect upon which I wish to concentrate. The basic affirmation of divine providence is simply this: God is in control!

How does God providentially direct the steps of the righteous? To answer this question it is important to draw a distinction between the choices and the circumstances of life. Every day we are presented with a limited number of choices. It is the circumstances of our life which present to us the options of choice. This distinction is important because God does not force us to make this or that choice, but he does constantly control the circumstances of our life (that is, the choices that we do have). If God were not in control of our options from which we can choose, then the promise of 1 Corinthians 10:13 carries no weight. God so controls our life circumstances that he does not permit Satan to tempt us beyond our ability. God does, however, permit us to be tempted with what we are able to hear much like Adam in the garden.

It disturbs me to hear Christians talk of the “accidental” or “chance” circumstances of their lives. Supposedly these are areas of “luck” over which God has little or no control. If this is true, prayer is in great peril. Perhaps when we receive what we think is a negative answer to a prayer, it is really no answer at all since the answer to the prayer lies beyond God’s ability or control. This is patently false. Prayer presupposes that God is in control of the circumstances of our life and that he can answer “yes” even though in his wisdom he may answer “no” occasionally. Sheila and I prayed that her surgery would be successful, but it was not. Am I to think that her death fell outside of the control of God, that it was the result of chance? Certainly not, since if it were true, this would render all prayer for the sick ineffective. (Contrast James 5:14-18.) In fact, herein lies the answer to grief: accept God’s providential control and wisdom.

Certainly, therefore, God works in our lives by controlling the circumstances of our choices. Are we, then, to attribute everything in our lives (even death itself) to the causative working of God? To answer this question we must make another distinction. Theologians have historically recognized two aspects of the working out of God’s will. One is passive, called the permissive will and the other is active, called the causative will. In the former, God merely permits (he does not directly cause) certain circumstances. For instance, God permitted Job to suffer the death of his children, servants and livestock (Job 1:13-22) though he was not tempted beyond what he could bear. God also permitted the Romans to kill Christians though he did not directly cause the death of those saints. (Revelation 13:7, 15). However, there are some things which God does providentially cause in a direct manner (not miraculously, however). God restored Job’s possessions to him (Job 42:12) and he avenged the blood of the Christian martyrs (Revelation 19:2). Thus, whatever circumstances face us in life (whether death, temptation, illness, etc.) it must be the result of God’s permissive or causative will. It must be either since everything falls under God’s providence. But we are in no position, at least in this life, to judge whether each circumstance is the result of God’s permissive or causative will.

Our lives should be built on the assurance that God is in control of everything having a bearing on the circumstances of our lives. We can take comfort, hope and joy in the fact that God knows what he is doing and is able to do it. Herein lies our help in times of need, trial and temptation. In another article, I will attempt to apply this concept of divine providence to those situations we often consider “evil.”

“Divine Providence and Human Lives (II),” Gospel Advocate 123.9 (May 7, 1981), 261, 277.

The basic affirmation of divine providence is this: God is in control! This means that no matter what happens in the circumstances of our life (not those which result directly from human choices), we must always see the hand of God in what is done. Whatever happens, God is always at work either permissively or causatively. This is easy to acknowledge (though we often fail to) when our life is filled with pleasant events. James 1:17 teaches that “every good gift and every perfect gift is form above.” Solomon points out that God sheds special blessings on the righteous whereas he does the opposite for the wicked. (Proverbs 10:3-16, 27-30; cf. Psalm 16:1-6.) Thus, we ought always to be thankful for the many divine blessings we have.

However, when trouble befalls us, it is more difficult (seemingly impossible) to see the hand of God in our lives. Yet, Proverbs 16:33 reads: “The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.” Another version renders that last phrase this way: “But its every decision is from the Lord.” Whether the lot turns up blessing or trouble, the lot is the result of God’s working. God has either permitted or caused this trouble in our lives. Why did he do it? Perhaps we may be able to answer that question in retrospect or maybe we will never be able to answer it in this life, but more important than speculating on the reason for God’s act is how we are going to cope with this trouble. For weeks after the death of my wife, I continually asked “Why?” It was futile to even attempt to answer that question at that time. (I cannot even answer it now nor do I expect to be able to answer it any time soon.) Instead, I learned to deal with my pain rather than speculating about the “whys” and “wherefores.” In particular, three principles of providence helped me to deal with my wife’s passing (and these principles, I think, are helpful in all kinds of turbulent times).

First, we must trust God’s providential control. Psalm 13 is one that is now close to my heart. The first four verses sustain a continual questioning of God, “How long will thou forget me, O Lord?…How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?” Certainly as we all experience times of trial we question God and even complain to him. It seems that we have a thousand questions but no answers. David had that same sort of feeling, but his answer was to trust God. Psalm 13:5, 6 reads: “But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.” Faith puts an end to the questions of doubt. We recognize the providence and control of God and we trust his will. Do we really trust his wisdom in these matters? We may not have the answers, but we know that the Lord does as he is in control of the universe. We must learn to trust him and that is no easy thing to learn in the midst of a personal crisis. Those who wish to help, impress us with the all-embracing nature of God’s control and his continual loving care for us.
Second, we must maintain a proper perspective throughout the crisis. The writer of Hebrews was expecting his readers to undergo some severe trials of faith very soon. Thus, in Hebrews 12 he instructs them concerning how to cope with these persecutions and trials. They were to treat their troubles as God’s fatherly discipline. The writer compares earthly chastenings with God’s heavenly discipline (vv. 10-11).

For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievious: nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.

A good summary of this section is “pain for our own good.” Though it hurts to suffer the death of a loved one, God can (and does) use that experience for our profit. Through pain we come to understand, appreciate and obtain peace. Thus, every crisis ought to be seen from the perspective of discipline. This does not mean that God is punishing us (as if God was punishing me through Sheilas’s death), but simply that God refines and matures us through fire (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:13-15).

If we can see our way through the pain and hurt, there is actually a divine compliment in every trial. With every such circumstance God is saying in effect: “I know you can bear this burden and I will use it to strengthen you.” It is not so much a test of faith (though it is that), but an opportunity to strengthen our faith. Sheila was the first of her immediate family to die. Perhaps she died first because she would not have been able to bear the death of the others. Though that is speculation, it is certain that Gold knew I could (and her family could) bear the burden since he permitted it to happen, and God does not permit us to be tempted above our ability. (1 Corinthians 1o:13.) Since we are often tempted to think that God has forgotten us in our times of trial (Psalm 13:1-4), we must maintain our perspective—which is no easy task, and one with which we need help—and then we will not see God’s absence in our trouble, but his presence through discipline.

Third, we must remember the promises of God and that God is faithful to his promises. Proverbs 16:4 says that “The Lord had made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil.” Thus, God is able to work things out for our profit. This is the promise of Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that have God, to them who are called according to his purpose.” Further, “if God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:31b-33). The promise is not that nothing bad will ever happen to the righteous, but that whatever happens, God will work it for good. (How could God make such a promise if he is not in total control of our life circumstances?) We know he will since he even gave up his Son for us. If he would do that, then certainly he would do whatever else he could for us. God is on our side. He is working for us, not against us. It seems that the natural tendency in every trial is to think that God is somehow opposing us. But God is working for the righteous in every trial. God is able to take the most despairing of situations and turn them into something good. He is able and he has promised, and God keeps his promises. (Hebrews 6:11-19; 10:23.)

God’s providence renders every sorrow, every illness, and every burden bearable. We recognize his total control and rejoice in his promises. We trust him. With this thought I mind, I wish to end this article with a poem that we found in a book Sheila had been reading the night she went home. We found it her own hand-writing (but nowhere in the book). We think it is her own composition, but we are not sure. In any even, it gave her comfort in recovering from her surgery and it gave me comfort in dealing with her passing. It truly magnifies the providence of God in his sustaining work.

It is in times of calamity,
         in days and nights of sorrow and trouble
               that the presence,
                    the sufficiency
                         and the sympathy of God
  grow very sure and very wonderful.

Then we find out that the grace of God is sufficient,
        for all our needs,
              for every problem and
                   for every difficulty,
  for every broken heart and for every human sorrow.

Comment on “Providence, Death and Grief”

Yesterday I posted two articles by my hand from the 1981 Gospel Advocate. These were my first atttempts, at the age of twenty-three, to write (even publicly speak of) the loss of my wife in 1980.

Reading them again after so long–I don’t think I have read them or perhaps even thought of them in over ten years at least–was an enlightening but also painful experience. As I have thought about the personal, theological and spiritual shifts in my life during my twenties, I was not surprised to see some dimensions of my soul appear in these articles. My comments below are intersubjective and do not intend to address anyone who holds the views articulated in the articles; I am reflecting only on my own experience.

The articles have a distasteful air of triumphalism as I read them today. There are hints of arrogance which I see in the words “proper” or “properly.” I write as if I have it figured out; at least it appears that way to me, knowing my own journey and heart at the time. There is a presumptuousness that understanding providence enbales one to overcome grief.

As I look back on my twenty-three old soul, I give myself lots of grace. It was a soul burdened with grief, reeking with anger against God, and spiritually sick with rebellious feelings. But you didn’t hear that in the article, did you? Well, of course not. It could not be spoken; I would not have spoken it. It would not have been printed. I did not speak it to anyone. I was too ashamed of my feelings, too afraid of judgment by others, and too sick to truly know myself.

I was too much of the hero…playing the hero…to speak such things. I knew what I thought others expected of me, and what I expected from myself. I was supposed to be the hero. It had been my role for some time, and I did not know what to do with my feelings of anger and grief other than feel guilty about them. So, I stuffed them, put on my “theological” face and wrote two relatively detached articles about providence and human life.

I still substantially agree with the articles. I have a high view of sovereignty and trust is a way to healing. I don’t like the distinction between miracle and providence so much anymore, but would rather speak of God’s constant activity. 1 Corinthians 10:13 does not provide the comfort that it once did (or seemingly did in this article)–not sure what is going on with that (it does not “ring” true in my experience). I do believe that God is in control; and he lovingly rules his world for the sake of his people and his creation. While the idea of “divine compliment” seems appropriate, I don’t think of it so much as a “compliment” anymore. Perhaps it is a means by which God garners witnesses in his world to his love, grace and care, but “compliment” is not a healthy word for me now.

The articles leave the impression that I have won. I have overcome. I trust. And everything has settled down. But that is far from the truth. My life was a mess at that moment. I was pursuing my Ph.D. at Westminster, living alone in a one-room studio in Ambler, PA, and making some terrible personal choices. Those choices were the outworkings of my anger and rebellion. Even now shame and guilt surge forward when I think about it even though I know those moments are long forgiven and erased from the heart of God.

What the articles lack–and what I lacked in my life at that time–was a deep sense of lament. I had not learned to lament. I did not know what faithful lament was. I did not know I could be angry with God, even complain and question and doubt, and yet at the same time remain faithful and beloved. I did not learn that (as much as I could “learn” it then) till the summer of 1981 when a friend turned my attention to the Psalms and then Job.

My approach to Job in these articles is about faith and the divine compliment. I had not processed the material between Job 1-2 and Job 42; it was not part of my world. I only “theologized” about sovereignty, the trial of Job, the faith of Job (“Blessed be the name of the Lord”) and God’s “reward.” The laments, bitterness, complaint and horror of Job’s experience had not yet connected with my own. Job 3-41 was terra incognita.

My articles in 1981 are heroic and triumphalistic. They contain much that I still believe, but they are only true if balanced with Psalmist and Jobian laments. They are only true if we excise the arrogance and presumption. They are only true if we remove the detachment and place those truths in the world of lamenters–those who deely feel the injustice of life and the seeming abandonment by their God. Job and Psalms became my Bible after I discovered their laments.

But I give myself a break here (though I find that difficult to do at times). I did not know the laments; I had not experienced the laments of Scripture. I had not learned to pray Scripture. I did not know how to grieve, and in some ways I have only learned to truly grieve in the last year (if even now). I only knew how to project my heroism; and I played it well. I give myself credit for that.  :-)

So, as Don commented yesterday, we need the combination of learning (theology) and suffering. I only see theology in these articles, but I knew the suffering was present in my heart. Now I–and at points in the past I have to some degree–intend to “do” theology with the honesty of a suffering heart. That is part of what I have done on this blog in the past year.

That is what is lacking in those articles. I did not know how to do that then; I did not know what to do with it. The articles are good as far as they go, but they are too detached to resonate with hearts that are angry, grieving and abandoned.  Those articles did not tell the full story of my heart in 1981.

They need a significant dose of biblical lament. We all need that and let us not deny it to those who feel lament; let us give the hurting full opportunity to speak their hurt even if our ears burn and our theologies are offended.

Fearless and Free During Economic Storms I

Note: This is the first of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham who is the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here.

 “His Righteousness Endures Forever”: Two Hymns

Psalms 111 & 112

 

Vers	Psalm 111	Psalm 112
1          2             3        4        5           6         7         8       9         10	Praise the LORD.   I will extol the LORD with all my heart in the council of the upright and in the  assembly.      Great are the works of the LORD; they are pondered by all who delight in them.        Glorious and majestic are his deeds, and his righteousness endures forever.    He has caused his wonders to be remembered; the LORD is gracious and compassionate.        He provides food for those who fear him; he remembers his covenant forever.     He has shown his people the power of his works, giving them the lands of other nations.    The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy.    They are steadfast for ever and ever, done in faithfulness and uprightness.   He provided redemption for his people; he ordained his covenant forever—holy and awesome is his name.      The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding.  To him belongs eternal praise.	Praise the LORD.    Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands.    His children will be mighty in the land; the generation of the upright will be  blessed.      Wealth and riches are in his house, and his righteousness endures forever.    Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and  righteous man.     Good will come to him who is generous and lends freely, who conducts his affairs with justice.      Surely he will never be shaken;  a righteous man will be remembered  forever.      He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD.   His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.    He has scattered abroad his gifts to the poor, his righteousness endures forever; his horn will be lifted high in honor.    The wicked man will see and be vexed, he will gnash his teeth and waste away; the longings of the wicked will come to nothing.

 

 

God created humanity as his representatives (“image of God”) to partner with him in caring for the earth, in co-creating the future with him, and sharing the joys of life. We are called to “mirror” God in our lives. Psalm 112 “mirrors” Psalm 111 and offers insight into how we are to become like God, particularly in the use of our resources and wealth in relation to “others” (creation, poor, community, etc.). We are called to partner with God in the use of our resources to pursue the righteous task that God has given us as his “imagers.” The blessed believer has “no fear of bad news” and is secure in trusting God.

 

Questions Based on Psalms 111 & 112 

 

1.  Noting that the subject of Psalm 111 is God and the subject of Psalm 112 is the blessed believer, what parallels can you see between the way God is extolled in Psalm 111 and the life of the blessed believer is celebrated in Psalm 112?

 

God is  ________________________      

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

2.  What is the relationship between Psalm 111 and 112?  Why do you suppose they appear back-to-back in Israel’s hymnbook?  What does the Psalmist want to teach by putting these two together?  What is the relationship between praising God and the blessedness of his people?

 

3.  Does the “blessedness” of the believer scandalize you in any way? What is the blessed person’s relationship to wealth and poverty? What does the blessed person fear or not fear? How does this relationship give the believer freedom to become like God?

 

4.  Paul quotes Psalm 112 in 2 Corinthians 9:8-11 as part of his attempt to persuade the Corinthians to contribute to his fund for the poor saints in Jerusalem.

 

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.  As it is written:  “He has scattered abroad his gifts to the poor;  his righteousness endures forever.”  Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.  You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

 

What is Paul’s application of this Psalm to the Corinthian church?  How does this inform our use of wealth in our context?  Where is the theme of generosity in both Psalm 111 and 112?

 

Bent and Broken but Better For It?

Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but–I hope–into a better shape.

Estella to Pip, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, chap. 59

But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I shall come out like gold.

Job to Eliphaz, Job 23:10

Estella, “bent and broken” by an abusive marriage, is transformed into something “better.” Now she hopes for the love she once rebuffed and Pip sees her as part of his own redemption. Their suffering prepared them for each other. [Interestingly, the first ending to Great Expectations is not so happy.]

Job began his response to Eliphaz with a declaration that “Today also my complaint is bitter” and God’s “hand is heavy despite my groaning” (Job 23:1). But he knows his suffering is a test of some sort–a bitter one, but one which he will endure though he also protests it.

Estella and Pip can stand on the other side of suffering and value it though they did not enjoy it. Job can sit in the midst of his suffering and recognize it as a refining process though painful and seemingly unjust.

But it takes time to get there, if we ever do. Even Job, in his first response to Eliphaz, protested that “his days have no meaning” in the light of God’s testing (Job 7:16, 18). He boldly declared that he would “speak in the anguish of [his] spirit” and “complain in the bitterness of [his] soul” (Job 7:11).

Yet, somewhere in the process, Job saw something more in his experience than mere injustice. He seems to have always thought it was unfair (cf. Job 27:2) but he did come to see that there was more involved than just that. It had a purpose. Whatever meaning he saw, however, did not deter him from protesting (cf. Job 30).

But all sufferers do not come to terms with some kind of “meaning” in their suffering and neither does their suffering always end up “rosy.”  Sometimes sufferers die in the darkness unaware that their suffering has any meaning whatsover….if, in fact, it does.

Does Sheila’s death have meaning? Does Joshua’s? I think they do, but I am at a loss to tell exactly what it is. Did their losses test and refine me? Surely they did. Did I learn something through the fire? Yes, of course.  Am I better for having been “bent and broken”? Yes, today I am.

Was it worth it?  Honestly, No!  It is difficult to value my “betterment” (even transformation!) as more important than their lives. Here is where my protest arises–my complaint that is sometimes bitter and sometimes angry.

But I recognize that I do not see the whole picture. I don’t know all that God is doing; I could not begin to imagine his mysterious and hidden ways.  All I can do is sit where I sit at the bottom of the bowl, experience my little world, feel my feelings and trust that God knows what he is doing….trust that there is meaning in my suffering….that somehow, someway it is–in God’s grand wisdom–worth it.

Trust. That is the key word.  Trust enables acceptance and dispels fear…but it is a process and it takes time, sometimes lots of time. God is patient. I am his beloved. Let us be patient with each other.

Yesterday–A Testimony

Yesterday I drove to Ellijay, Georgia–the city of my wife’s birth, upbringing, marriage, death and burial. She died around 2:00am on April 30, 1980 while convalescing in her parent’s home from back surgery twenty days before.

Yesterday I drove to her graveside alone. I had not been there alone in some years, perhaps decades. It was time for me to sit with her, pray, reflect, and meditate.

When I arrived, I sat my portable chair near her grave.  Praying, I began journaling as my counselor suggested.  Journaling is often difficult for me, but this time I wrote for almost two hours.

The cemetery is a small one; it is nestled in a small depression with a country white Methodist church building rising above it. The church sits on Highway 52 which rides a blue ridge in north Georgia.  One road makes a short circle within the graveyard–so short that you have to keep your hand turning the wheels as the car moves among the gravestones. The graves are well-kept. It is a serene atmosphere as the cemetery is surrounded by trees and one large fir tree rises near the center.  All of this in sight of the surrounding ridges of the north Georgia mountains. It is a calm, peaceful setting.

Sheila was the first to be buried outside of the circle but today she is accompanied by aunts and uncles on her north and south side.  As yet she has no immediate family lying beside her.

When I sat down, the clouds were ominous. They were dark and brooding.  I anticipated rain and the forecast called for it. I wondered whether I would have to sit in the car and journal.  As I began journaling I wrote that the dark clouds were a metaphor for how I felt sitting next to her. Sadness filled my soul and tears flowed.

As I was writing and thinking about that metaphor–feeling my way through it, the sky changed. The clouds were still there, but a hole had opened up among them. The hole was situated directly above the cemetery and the sun lit Sheila’s grave. It was as if the whole cemetery was engulfed by the blue sky and its bright sun.  At the same time I felt a gentle, cool breeze flowing over me–a calm wind, a peaceful breath.

“God,” I wrote, “is this for me?”

The dark clouds began moving to the northeast, but the blue sky stayed directly over head. The sun was so bright at times that I could barely write. I needed sunglasses but had none. There were still plenty of clouds, but not over Sheila’s grave. The bright sunlight continued unabated.

“God,” I wrote, “are you telling me something?”

As I was driving down Highway 52 to turn into the parking lot of the Methodist church, I noticed how dark the clouds were and I thought to myself “how fitting.” It was how I always anticipated coming here–sad, depressing, upsetting. Consequently, I tended to avoid the grave.

“God,” I wrote, “are you telling me my life has been dark too long? that it is time to see the light?”

The trees whistled with a pleasant wind. The sun dispelled the darkness. The warmth of the sun and refreshing breeze renewed me. The sun’s warmth sent my heart to God’s love and the breeze felt like the breath (Spirit) of God. My father was blowing fresh grace on me–a fresh joy in that painful place with such painful memories.

“God,” I wrote, “you are here now–you are with me. There is peace. The dark clouds are moving away.”

I know not whether you believe in such experiences. But that was mine yesterday. It was as real to me as typing this sentence.  I’ve had them before and this one was simply amazing, wondrous and beautiful.

Is my grieving over?  I doubt it. But I think it reached a new stage yesterday. It was a moment of grace and joy when all I expected was fear and sadness.

“Is this God’s grace?” I wrote with tear-filled eyes.  Yes, indeed, it was.  Thank you, God.

I then visited with Sheila’s parents for a couple of hours. They are godly, good folk. They still love me and I love them.

Theology? Doctrine? Whatever…. (SBD 2)

A few introductory comments on the definition and function of theology……

Systematic Biblical Doctrine

That’s the title of the course I will teach this Maymester at the undergraduate level for Lipscomb University. I don’t particularly like it. Here’s why.

“Doctrine” rings hollow at best for most students (especially at the undergraduate level) and creates hostile suspicion for many. The word has a polemical ring in many ears such that it conjures up images of dueling antagonists engaged in heated debate where the loser goes to Hell. “Doctrinal error,” as the saying goes, “places one in danger of judgment,” right?

“Systematic” sounds, well, too systematic. It sounds like we are going to put the Bible into its “proper” order–an order that we impose through a preconcevived “system” (an order perhaps borrowed from some philosophical construct, cultural model or a previous scholasticism). This prioritizes “system” over text; it postulates an “order” to which the text must conform. This is onto-theology so that theology is shaped by a prior commitment to an ontology. Theology then becomes a form of philosophical anthropology, which means it is not theology at all but “anthropology in a loud voice” (so Barth’s critique of classic liberalism). It will override the text.

So, “Systematic Biblical Doctrine” sounds like a code word for imposing my system upon the biblical text in order to draw boundaries that define the “right” group. Consequently, I don’t like it. It is not what I think theology should do.

Rather, I proceed with a more narrative approach where theology is the exploration of the biblical plot–to trace the redemptive-historical work of God through Creation, Fall, Israel, Christ and Church into the Eschaton. It follows the plot line. Theology tells the story and seeks to absorb the contemporary world into the plot of the story.

Is there something systematic about theology? Well, of course. There is an order. But, it seems to me, that order is best understood as redemptive-historical plot, or drama, or story, or narrative. The order is not that of a “system” or a philosophical/metaphysical grid, but the order of a narrative plot in which we live or a drama that we perform.

The Function of Doctrine (Theology)

What image does “doctrine” evoke in your mind? Answers would probably range from meaningless discussions of unfruitful minutia of rationalistic projections by ivory-tower theologians to exciting visions of polemical engagements over distinctive points of doctrine. Both of these exercises could be called “doctrinal,” but both leave a bad taste in the mouth of contemporary Christians who are impatient with the impractical musings of theologians and fed up with the backbiting, abusive and sectarian character of heated exchanges.

Many are searching for something more significant. They yearn for pragmatic value instead of the perplexity of intellectual gymnastics and the haughtiness of intramural Christian squabbles. Students, like many church members, are skittish, suspicious and usually disheartened by any “doctrinal” discussion.

Homiletics illustrates the problem. Preaching, it is said, ought to be life-oriented, faith-building and practical. Doctrinal preaching is out of style and ineffective. Topical preaching is generally snubbed because, in part, it is usually doctrinal preaching, and it is much easier to sneak one’s doctrinal position into a series of texts in topical preaching than when expounding a particular text. Preaching is thought more effective if it is framed psychologically or in story or in exposition, but never “doctrinal”.

This rejection of doctrinal preaching is due in large measure to a reaction to a fundamentalist emphasis on polemics. There preaching generally focuses on peripheral issues which are unconnected with life. This is largely driven by a demand for “distinctive” preaching. What can you preach that a Baptist cannot? Or, what can a Baptist fundamentalist preacher say that distinguishes him from a Methodist? Thus, doctrinal preaching degenerates into battles over the Bible and skirmishes over distinctives or theological systems. A steady diet of such preaching does not strike at the heart of the central aspects of Christianity. As a result, controversy is highlighted without the illumination of Christianity’s center, the weightier matters.

On the other hand, sermons shaped by inductive storytelling or pop psychology have the tendency to offer secular advice in religious clothing. They remain superficial and fail to probe the deeper resources of meaning and application within the Christian faith (that is, they fail to be “doctrinal”). While this perspective is driven by the nausea of the popular culture with doctrinal preaching, without doctrine there is no substance. Without reflection on the Christian faith, there is no grounding in the story of God. This kind of preaching may produce a relatively healthy secular psychology, but it will foster a weak and immature faith; a faith easily tempted and seduced by the forces of humanism, materialism and pluralism in our culture. It will be a faith that adopts the values of its culture rather than challenging them.

Ellen T. Charry has argued that the function of Christian Doctrine is aretegenic, that is, it is “conducive to virtue” or it generates a virtuous life (By the Renewing of Your Minds [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977], p. 19). The purpose of Christian doctrine is character formation, spiritual formation. Theology should give the people of God an identity (a sense of calling and status) and equip them with normative ideas and values that shape them into the image of Christ. The function of Christian doctrine is practical—to build a community which images God. Thus, the goal is neither polemical victory (to glory in being “right” on every issue) nor theological ingenuity (to glory in a “new” idea). It is pragmatic. Christian doctrine should serve God’s intent to seek a people that share his values and holiness in communion with him.

Theology is neither metaphysical speculation nor polemical exchange, but the applied story of God toward the goal of character formation—to be formed into the image of Christ. As Paul told Titus, if we will teach Christian doctrine (stress the theology of Titus 3:3-7), then the Christian community will be full of good works (Titus 3:8). This is the kind of “teaching” that is “good and profitable.” A community is shaped by its doctrine; it will become what its doctrine is. Teachers and preachers pay heed. Doctrine must be aretegenic if it is to be biblical.

What theology does Paul have in mind? He summarizes it in Titus 3:3-7. If Titus would have a vibrant community of faith, he should stress this: (1) the triune work of God—the Father who loved us through Jesus the Son and renewed us through the Holy Spirit; (2) our utter fallenness and thus the need for redemption; (3) the divine initiative for our salvation, the motive that moved the divine initiative, and the divine work which accomplished it; (4) the nature and means of our salvation as our redemption is not only forgiveness by the grace of Jesus Christ but transformation by the power of the Spiorit; and (5) the creation of a community of believers with eschatological hope.

Stress these things, Paul told Titus, and the people of God will be dedicated to good works (transformed living in service to others). They will avoid foolish controversies and quarrels about the law (polemics will not be their focus). They will be God’s people who image Christ in a fallen world; they will be a people who live according to the age to come rather than fashioned by this present evil age.

Significance of Doctrine

My call in this class is to a renewed appreciation for the fact that doctrine is at the heart of our faith–our faith involves theological (worldview, metanarrative) commitments and our ethics are pregnant with theological meaning and grounding. Our communal reflection and teaching must reflect these theological or doctrinal commitments or our people will have no grounding or understanding of the deep roots of their faith. We must develop within our people the ability to “do theology,” to think critically about their faith in relation to their life, so that their lives might reflect the commitments of their faith.

This kind of reflection is necessary if we are to perform the story, that is, live within the story of God. If we do not provide that heart and push for that reflection, then another “heart” will drive our lives and decisions. Instead of participating in God’s drama, believers will, by default, adopt the cultural mores which subtly shape them. Without reflection on the narrative of God’s story competing narratives will shape us. Without critical reflection on our faith, we naturally adopt a faith (worldview, metanarrative) which is comfortable and suitable to the age in which we live. Critical reflection demands that we retune our ears instead of having them scratched by contemporary culture.

More specifically, I offer this definition of “Christian Doctrine”: “Christian doctrine is pouring God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ into our human experience so that we might embody the life of Jesus in the present.”  I attempt to do this comprehensively (whole of Scripture–both Hebrew and Greek–applied to the whole of life), coherently (seeking the integrative and consistent character of God’s story throughout redemptive history but without straggling the diversity of that story by some strait-jacket harmonizing technique), contextually (we are situated, concrete humans living in specific cultural contexts) and Christologically (the culmination of God’s revelation through creation and Israel is Jesus the Christ, the eschatological Son of Man breaking into the present from the future). This is faith seeking understanding. Theology asks how our faith relates to our human experience; and in particular, how should we live in the light of what God has done in Jesus.

Theology, then, is intended to be critical; it is self-reflection. It is a search for understanding–to understand the story of God in Israel and, ultimately, in Christ. This critical reflection is necessary to ensure that our praxis is faithful to God’s narrative. Theology is the self-conscious effort to interpret reality through the lens of God’s self-revelation in Christ given to us in Scripture.

Christian Doctrine as Story

Theology is a narrative enterprise as it seeks to tell the story of God, explains its meaning and apply its principles to the contemporary world. Theology is fundamentally a secondary language in which the church speaks, but a necessary one. The power of its language (including its propositions) is drawn from the power of the story as it is given to us in Scripture. Scripture is the first order; it is the norm. Theology is second order; it attempts to provide a coherent and practical model of the first for a contemporary audience by way of application. It is presumptive to think that our model is an exact duplicate of the first. Our model does not bear the perfections of the first. Our model does not have the first-hand character of the first as a witness to the story. Our model is a retelling of the story; the first is the story.

In other words, as Stan Grenz notes, our model is not a replica, but an analogue. A replica would be a miniaturization of a reality in its exact dimensions, but an analogue simulates the structural relationships of the reality modeled. It speaks analogously–we are pilgrim thinkers that are ever trying to model our theology after God’s own narrative telling. Our theology does not equal Scripture, but it models it. This is the ongoing process of sanctification, as we seek to bring our thoughts in captivity to God’s thoughts.

This means that theology is always a human construct–fallible, subject to adjustment, and always stands under Scripture. This means that theology is reflection on faith; it is not to be equated with faith. Theology draws out the meaning of our experience of faith; but it is not a substitute for faith. It informs and guides our faith as we live it out in our specific contexts, but faith is itself the foundation for theology.

Theology is not absolute truth. God is the absolute Truth. We can apprehend truths about him as he has revealed them in Scripture. But as we attempt to narrate, understand and apply those truths, we do so as situated, fallible, finite human beings. We cannot absolutize our system–only God is Absolute. There is only one God and we are not “him.”

Fearless and Free During Economic Storms II

Note: This is the second of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham, the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here. The first small group study lesson is here.

Free From Greed, Free to Share
1 Timothy 6:2b-19

Free From Greed

There are those who love money so much that they think “godliness is a means to financial gain,” but “godliness with contentment is great gain.” Greed distorts what is really important; it perverts the pursuit of godliness into a financial adventure. The love of money corrupts everything it touches.

The love of money—the idolatry of money—is expressed in a desire to “get rich” which is the flip side of a lack of contentment. “Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income” (Ecclesiastes 5:10).

The pursuit of wealth without contentment results in “many griefs” because that agenda is a “trap” that leads to “ruin and destruction.” It blinds and ensnares us. Wealth without contentment is sinking sand whereas generosity is a “firm foundation.”

Free to Share

The freedom to share is nurtured by the development of a character that pursues “righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness.” Formed by these virtues disciples are “generous and willing to share.”

The pursuit of wealth without sharing is arrogance and trusts wealth rather than God. Stinginess, the inability to share, indicates stunted spiritual growth; it is ungodliness—to be unlike God himself.

The wealthy are commanded “to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.” To “do good” is a Jewish expression for benevolence as in, for example, James 4:17: “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” The heart of the wealthy is tested by whether it shares or not, whether it can be generous like God.

Godliness the Key

Godliness—living as God’s partner in the present age—frees us from greed so that we are free to share. This freedom is the “treasure” that offers a “firm foundation for the coming age.” This “treasure” enables us to “take hold of the life that is truly life.”

Contentment, character and charitableness are intimately woven together in the freedom of godliness. Dissatisfaction, arrogance and miserliness are intimately woven together in the snare of greed.

Greed enslaves but godliness liberates, and when godliness liberates, we become generous people just as God himself is generous with us in providing “us with everything for our enjoyment.”

Questions for Discussion

1. What are some of the characteristics of those who use godliness for “financial gain”? What are some of the characteristics of a godly person? What does this text say about who God is?
2. Given 1 Timothy 6:17-19, what “sermon” would you share with the “rich”? Do you sense a measure of discomfort with that sermon? Why?
3. Why is the pursuit of wealth a snare? What makes it a snare? Is there a pursuit of wealth that is not a snare? Why do you think so? Why are human beings so susceptible to this snare?
4. How do we know whether we are “loving money” or not? What “tests” or “questions” can we apply to ourselves to discern this in our character?
5. What does contentment mean? What does it look like in our lives?
6. As wealthy Americans, do we find ourselves defensive when it comes to how we use our wealth? If so, why?

The Mother Of Jesus Praises The Lord

The Magnificat
“My Soul Magnifies the Lord”

Luke 1:46-55

This song has been used by the church, almost daily, since the late fourth century. It has been sung, prayed and preached for centuries. In the text of Luke, it is one of three songs. The other two are by Elizabeth (1:42-45) and Zechariah (1:68-79). Mary’s song rests between them and is thereby highlighted.

For those interested in a rather detailed exegesis of the Magnificat, see the piece by Curtis A. Jahn. The appendix of the article has a wonderful chart which connects the language of the Magnificat with praise texts in the Hebrew Bible.

Mary praises God for his gracious kindness toward her (Luke 1:46-49).

Mary magnifies (exalts) the Lord and rejoices (delights) in God her Savior. This comes from deep within her—her soul, her spirit. Her praise and delight are rooted in God’s “look” toward her; he has been “mindful” of her. Mary was lovingly and affectionately chosen despite her humble, impoverished status. She was no daughter of a king, but she will now be the mother of one.

Hearing Elizabeth’s “blessing” pronouncement, Mary prophetically accepts that every generation will called her “blessed.” But her blessedness is not due to something within her. Her blessedness is the Lord’s doing. She is blessed by what the Lord does, and as a result she receives the title “blessed” when previously she was “humble.” Mary then ends this stanza the way it began–the name of God “holy” (transcendent, awesome, amazing, beyond our imagination; cf. Psalm 99) just as she began her song “magnifying” (making God great) the Lord.

Questions to Consider: What is the root of Mary’s praise? How does she see herself before and after God’s mighty act for her? How does this model our own acceptance of God’s mighty acts for us?

Mary recognizes that that God’s mercy extends beyond her (Luke 1:50-53).

Mary begins the second stanza with a praise and testimony to God’s mercy. Just as generations will call her blessed because of God’s mercy, in the same way that mercy will envelope generations to come as they trust (revered) God as Mary trusted God. Mercy is what God demonstrates by his actions in verses 51-53.

What God did in exalting Mary to a blessed state is nothing new; it is the pattern of God’s redemptive work throughout history (for example, Mary uses language reminiscent of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2). This is what God does in history: he performs mighty deeds for the humble and hungry as he topples the arrogant, powerful and wealthy.

God reverses the established order of this broken world. He brings good news to the poor and oppressed; this is the gospel. God does the unexpected—and salvation itself is unexpected. It is divine grace.

Questions to Consider: What do you learn about God from reading these few lines? How is his mercy manifested? How does his mercy continue throughout the generations and in your life?

Mary testifies that God keeps his promise of mercy to Israel (Luke 1:54-55).

The motherhood of Mary is the fulfillment God’s promise to the patriarchs, the fathers of Israel. God, literally, has “taken hold of” or “embraced his servant Israel.” God has loved his people by keeping his promise through the birth of Jesus.

This is itself an act of mercy. God has remembered his mercy. The mercy that overthrows the arrogant and powerful is the mercy he now extends “to Abraham and his descendents forever.” This mercy God will continually extend and display throughout the generations to come.

Questions to Consider: What experience in your own life comes to mind when you think about God “remembering mercy”? Where in your life have you felt the embrace of God’s love for you? Last week I posted a testimony about a recent experience of God’s mercy in my life.

Note: I have previously posted about the Magnificat but this one is designed for small group discussion.

A sermon based on this text is available at the Sycamore View Church of Christ website.  Look for my lesson under May 10, 2009.

Creation: A Divine Piece of Work (SBD 3)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The divine community enjoys communion with the created community as God rejoices over and rests within the creation that reveals the glory of God.

A Triune, Sovereign and Gracious Act

The Triune community creates the human community and places them within the creation. The Father is the fountainhead and origin of creation. The cosmos originated with the Father, but it came into being through the agency of the Son (1 Corinthians 8:6) as the wisdom and principle of creation (Proverbs 8). The Spirit is the dynamic breath of God who gives and preserves life within the creation. The Father created through the Son by the power of the Spirit.

The act of creation testifies to the “infinite qualitative difference” between the Creator and the creation; creation ratifies God’s transcendence and sovereignty. Psalm 33, for example, moves from creation to sovereignty with theological ease. God created what was intended; nothing frustrated the divine purpose.

The sovereign act of creation testifies to God’s aseity. This means that God is God before and without the creation. God is not dependent upon anything outside of the divine life itself. The divine community is sufficient in itself; it is full and rich without anything or anyone else. Besides God there is nothing else before God created. This excludes any kind of metaphysical dualism, panentheism or pantheism.

The act of creation testifies to the love of God; it was a gracious, free act. God was not compelled by some inner necessity to create as if some hole had to be filled in the divine life or for that God created so that God might become fully God. God was not lonely; the Triune God has lived in eternal communion. Rather, God freely chose to create. That gracious act was one of self-giving–not by compulsion or grudgingly.

To Enjoy and Develop

The divine community created a human community within the creation. Why did God create? The root answer is not power or ego, but love. While sovereign power enabled creation, love moved it. While God created for glory, God experiences this glory as the divine community delights in the creation and the fulfillment of God’s telos. The glory of God is not ego-driven but moved by love for the other. God is glorified through communion with the creation.

This movement is rooted in God’s own ontology. God subsits in the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit; God is being-in-relation. This mutual indwelling of the divine life is the fullness of divine communion. God created to share this communion—this mutual indwelling—with others. The act of creation was other-centered; the divine community chose others rather than the satus quo of its own communion.

The prayer of Jesus in John 17:20-26 glories in the love the Father has for the Son, but the goal of this love, though mutual, is not self-focused. On the contrary, the telos of God’s self-revelation is to share the mutual love between the Father and Son with the creation. God draws humanity into the orbit of the Triune love so that we might participate and share in the divine communion which existed before the world began.

This is God’s joy. As the story constantly reveals, God delights in the communion of those created by his power for the sake of love. Moreover, God delights in the creation itself. Psalm 104 describes God’s care and joy for the creation (inclusive of animals as well as the stars). God rejoices over the works of creation and the earth is full of God’s faithful love.

God did not create the cosmos in order to annihilate it, but created it to live within it—to dwell within the creation. Scripture often describes the creation with architectural imagery—the creation is a divine temple in which God lives even though it cannot contain the fullness of divine presence. The earth was created as the temple of the Lord in which God would dwell in peace, joy and community. This is a significant theological trajectory in Scripture.

When God had finished six days of creating, God rested within it. The creation became God’s “resting place” (Isaiah 66:1). The creation—filled with shalom—is the divine sanctuary in which God rested. The divine Sabbath rest is not merely about cessation from work but about enjoying what was created. The Sabbath rest—both divine and human Sabbaths—are the experience of communion, joy and peace. God not only rests from creating but also rests within and with the creation. God invites the creation—both human and animal—to share the divine rest.

The creation is good but not perfect. The goodness of creation means that that it fits what God intended–it is shalom-filled, serves the divine purpose and there is no inherent evil within in (Genesis 1). But this is not a Platonic perfection that resists change. On the contrary, God created something that would grow and develop, that would mature, adapt and change. The creation was intended to develop into the fullness of the future—to become all it could be. The creation is only the starting point; it was not the goal. The creation, under God’s sovereign care and in partnership with humanity, would emerge, grow and develop till the divine telos was reached. God created something dynamic rather than static.

To Reveal

The heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19:1). What God created and how God sovereignly rules the creation proclaims the glory of the divine community.

Creation is God’s own self-disclosure but it is not full disclosure. The creation cannot enclose the fullness of God’s own life but it does testify to it. Creation is an act of revelation. Some call this “general revelation” because it is generally available to all humanity while others call it a “natural knowledge” of God because this knowledge comes through the natural constitution of things.

As creatures living in a creation generated and indwelt by a Creator there is an innate awareness of a presence that transcends us; ther is an awareness of the infinite within our finitude. A divine presence—as if fingerprints on the creation—is immanent within the created reality. This is not so much a “natural theology” as a “creation theology.” God is manifest within the creation (Romans 1:19-20). Humans have a pre-reflective (Rahner) or immediate (Van Til) knowledge of God; this intuitive knowledge of God is the sense of divinity (Calvin’s sensus divinitas) within every human being. It is an openness to transcendence (Pannenberg). God created a world in which humans would know the divine, where they would seek beyond themselves for something to ground their existence and give meaning to it. The divine is revealed rather than obscured.

This revelatory work of God is not simply a past act of creation. Rather, God is immanently at work in the world to seek a people and acts within creation and history to evoke a response. Paul’s sermon in Acts 17:22-31 describes God as the creator and ongoing giver of life as well as the founder and ruler of nations. The divine purpose creates an environment in which humans will seek, grope after and find God. Human existence and history have a divine telos. The one in whom we live and move and have our being is the one who reveals life through creation and history.

God has left a witness not only in creation but in history as well. Consequently, we listen for God’s work in history as part of his witness to us. This entails a certain amount of openness to how other religions speak the truth about God in the feeble, fallible manner of human reason, experience and culture. Since there is an immediate awareness of God within the creation and God is active in human history, an openness to a history of divine disclosure within the history of religions is appropriate despite the degenerative dimensions of the human condition that distort God’s revelation.

Further, the goodness of creation entails a certain openness to the human sciences of anthropology, psychology and sociology as avenues of insight into the human psyche and an openness to science as a divine gift for understanding and caring for the creation. This divine presence within human nature, religions, disciplines and history is called “common grace” by Reformed theologians because it recognizes these as moments of revelatory grace whereby God leaves a witness within the creation.

But that witness is not left only to creation and history as a process of divine providence and sovereign care. More particularly, God entered history in the person of Jesus, the crucified and raised one, as a witness of and means to the divine telos. He is the good news of God. This divine revelation is specific, historic, and personal—sometimes called “special revelation.” This revelation in Jesus is the exegesis of God whereby God gives us an interpretative lens through which to see the divine telos more clearly, more decisively and more personally. God has a “Word” (Logos)  for humanity that transcends the creation even as it given within the creation as a part of the creation. Paul, in Acts 17:30-31, appealed to the resurrection of Jesus as evidence of God’s enagament with the creation.

So What?

The ground of worship is creation (Psalm 148:5; Revelation 4:11). We worship the Creator because the one who created is infinitely and qualitatively different from us. Creation evokes doxology because of the goodness and grace—not merely the power—revealed by God’s act. We worship because we are part of the creation rather than the Creator ourselves. The doctrine of creation defends against all forms of idolatry—nothing or no one can stand in the place of the Creator.

Since God is ontologically communal, being-in-relation, his creative act is relational in character. God creates to be-in-relation rather than simply to put omnipotence on display. God desires worship not because of some egocentricity but because of the desire to be-in-relation as God experiences mutual joy with the worshippers in the moment of worship. God intends to commune with his creation rather than subjugate it as tyrant or annihilate it as destroyer.

The creation is a divine dwelling-place; it is God’s sanctuary. The creation, of course, is not God, but the creation is valued, loved and enjoyed by God. The divine intent is to dwell among humanity within the creation. This entails a deep ecological theology whereby human beings value, love and enjoy the creation just as God does. It also entails a strong sense of immanence—not panentheism or pantheism—whereby God reveals himself through the birds, the trees, the sunlight and other “messengers” (Psalm 104) of creation. God conveys his presence through the sacrament of creation itself.

Matter—the created reality—flows from the hand of God. Materiality is good, not evil. It is not an inherently inferior mode of being for creatures. In fact, it is the creaturely mode of being itself. God created matter, enfleshed our spirits, incarnated himself in matter (flesh), and intends to redeem matter (resurrection of the body and the renewal of creation). God intended the created world—the material world—to be inhabited (Isaiah 45:18) and filled. His purpose has not changed.

The goodness of creation has significant implications for ethics. As creatures who are created to represent and imitate the Creator, what God created expresses the divine intent and norms human behavior. The ethical value of creation is not only about ecology, but also about sexuality, family, stewardship (divine ownership and human management of resources), work and rest, and vocation among many other concerns.

Conclusion

Creation is not only the first act of divine revelation; it is the beginning of the story. As far as the narrative of Scripture is concerned, creation is where our story begins. It identifies us, defines us and invites us to participate in God’s story as all creation moves toward the divine telos. Our first identity is creaturehood and our mode of being is creatureliness. We are not God; the Creator is.

God and Creation: Power in the Service of Love (SBD 4)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

Though neither bounded nor contained by the creation, the Triune God of Light and Love lives in relationship with and acts within the creation.

The transcendence of God is often where we begin talking about God. “This is the earthly way of thinking of a Lord,” Eberhard Jüngel notes, “first he has all power, and then perhaps he can be merciful–but then again, perhaps not” (God as the Mystery of the World, 21). When transcendence is our starting point, power or sovereignty dominate our image of God, and this tends to construe “the glory of God” as some kind of egocentricity. One potential result is that the will of God becomes a function of power (or arbitrariness) rather than relationality.

The Christian doctrine of God, as Barth said, is the Trinity. When this is our starting point (or even when we start with the paradigmatic redemptive events in Israel’s history or in Christology), the emphasis falls on relationality (communion) rather than power. It encompasses transcendence, but power serves love rather than love as an addendum to or a coordinate with power. If love served power or if power were the fundamental identity of God, then there would have never been an incarnation where the powerful became powerless.

The powerful (transcendent) God acts in love for the sake of communion or relationship. God, as Barth says, “loves in freedom” and acts with power to demonstrate or manifest that love. This is the fundamental essence of God: the transcendent God who freely loves in holiness by immanently communing with the creation.

The Faithful Holy Lover

God is “holy love” (Grenz). 1 John is structured around the two themes that “God is light” (1 John 1:5) and “God is love” (1 John 4:8). John’s two simple, but profound, declarative statements about God summarize his theology and are defined by his Christology. “God is light” is understood in the light of the righteous purity of Jesus (1 John 2:1-2; 3:2-6) and “God is love” is understood in the light of the atonement of Christ (1 John 4:8-9). Moreover, this light and love is experience by God in Triune communion and communicated to humanity through the indwelling Spirit (1 John 4:13-14). God is also community, a community of holy love, who lives in communion with humanity.

Israel experienced God as holy lover. God marries Israel in righteousness and justice (holy), in lovingkindness and compassion (love), and in faithfulness (Hosea 2:19-20). This is parallel to John’s imagery of holiness, love and community. The Holy Lover pursues Israel, marries her again and loves her despite her brokenness.

Psalm 99, a praise of divine holiness, provides a doxological rubric for thinking about God as the “Holy Lover.” The Psalm thrice declares that God “is holy” (vv. 3b, 5c, 9c). The first stanza focuses on divine transcendence, the second stanza focuses on divine justice, and the third on relationality. God answers Israel when they call, speaks to them and forgives them. God lives in community with Israel—responding, speaking, disciplining, forgiving and communing.

The third stanza cites one of the great confessions of Israel which is found in Exodus 34:6-7. “”The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation.” This is another way of describing the faithful, holy love of God. Though Yahweh punishes sin to the third or fourth generation, the love of God extends to “thousands.”

To affirm divine relationality is to affirm that God is Spirit—the living, loving communal vitality of being present to and communing with the covenant community. To say that God is Spirit is not so much about immateriality as it is life and relationality. This vitality embraces the covenant community, fills them with presence, and empowers them for communion and transformation. The points of the divine triangle may read love, holiness and faithfulness but its center is Life (Spirit).

To say God is holy is to say that God is loving and to say that God is loving is to say that God is holy, and to say either is to say that God is faithfully loving and holy in relation to Triune community and to the creation. God is the faithful holy lover and this is revealed through covenant relationship with Israel, through relationship with the Incarnate Son, and through relationship with the church. It is revealed through God’s acts and presence within history. We know and experience God through divine acts and not by access to transcendence.

Transcendent But Immanent

Yahweh is the God who is, was and is to come; Yahweh is the “I AM”—Being itself, the ontological ground of the cosmos. Our existence arises out of, is dependent upon and shares in God’s own life. God is both Barth’s “Wholly Other” and Tillich’s “Ground of Being.” God is both transcendent and immanent in relation to the creation.

Transcendence means that the finite cannot contain the infinite. Neither the creation nor human words can contain the fullness of God’s reality. There is an “infinite qualitative difference” between God and the creation such that nothing can be identified with God. Any such identification is tantamount to idolatry.

Though providence is a future installment, here it is important to note that divine transcendence does not mean that God is disinterested, uninvolved or disconnected from the creation. Rather, God is dynamically present within and with the creation. “We live and move and have our being” in the Creator (Acts 17:28). Immanence means that God is fully invested, present and active within the creation.

Balancing transcendence and immanence is a difficult theological task but it is important. If God is too distant, we experience God as apathetic and uncaring. If God is too close, we identify ourselves as God. The finite cannot contain the infinite, but the infinite is not absent from the finite.

The balance between transcendence and immanence is doxologically portrayed in Psalm 139. Divine knowledge transcends us (omniscience) but also extends to every corner of creation. Divine presence transcends us (omnipresence) but also fills every space within the creation. Divine transcendence generates wonder, awe and astonishment. Divine immanence generates confidence, belovedness and comfort. Though God is incomprehensible because of transcendence, God is experienced through immanent presence.

Transcendence means that the mode of divine existence is beyond our grasp. Immanence means that God is mysteriously present in all things. The only faithful human response is doxological. We cannot exhaust the depths of how and what God knows (we cannot explain the “omnis”) nor can we intellectually manage the boundaries of divine presence as if to remove the divine mystery from the creation. We can only praise the God who far exceeds the imagination of our finitude both transcendently and immanently.

The One Who Is

Ultimately, theology is doxology because whatever we say about God can only approximate who God really is. Nothing we say about God is univocal, that is, nothing we say about God is exactly and fully how God thinks about God. On the other hand, our talk of God is not simply equivocal either, that is, our language about God says something true accommodated to finite modes of experience. What we theologize, then, is neither fully God’s own knowledge nor mere human imagination. Rather, our God-language is analogical—it only approximates yet nevertheless authentically communicates something true about God. Consequently, we speak of God not as God really is in God’s own life but as God appears to us in faithful, holy love.

Theology, then, is relational for whatever is known about God is secondary to knowing God. Our doxology expresses relationship. We confess God as love because God has loved us. We confess God as holy because God has acted in righteousness and justice. We confess God as communal because God has come to us as Father, Son and Spirit. We praise God as omnipotent because God is creator. We praise God as omniscient because God unfolds history, knowing the beginning from the end. We praise God as omnipresent because wherever we go God is there.

As both doxological and relational, our knowledge of God is rooted in the history of God’s relationship with Israel and Jesus. We know God is love because God has loved us in Jesus. We know God is holy because God has atoned for our sins. We know God is communal because the Father loved the Son. Our knowledge of God comes through knowing God or else our knowledge of God is an impoverished intellectual cognition.

Theology is authentic only when we speak of God doxologically as we are in relationship with God. Psalm 99 and Psalm 139 illustrate this approach to “theology proper.” They are doxological reflections on God’s encounter with humanity where God is experienced as both transcendent and immanent, experienced as faithful, holy and loving.

So What?

This is the community into which humanity is invited, and thus we are called to practice a faithful holy love in community. As creatures created in the image of God and as participants in the divine community, the human community ought to mirror this faithful, holy love….in marriage, in family, in society, in ecclesia.

Divine transcendence and immanence are a bulwark against idolatry and human arrogance. Transcendence means that nothing within creation can be identified as God but immanence means that nothing within creation is devoid of divine mystery. Anything that substitutes for God is idolatry and any thought that defines or binds God is human arrogance.

At the same time divine transcendence is the ground of faith’s confidence since we confess that God is able and divine immanence is the ground of faith’s comfort since we confess that God is always present. The transcendent but immanent God appears to us through redemptive history and is experienced by ineffable presence. God is not unknown but neither is God comprehended nor confined by human knowledge. God is known and experienced through covenant relationship.

Human knowledge of God cannot be univocal with God’s own knowledge since transcendence means that we do not see the world with God’s own eyes. Human knowledge is not equivocal because God has entered history to communicate and commune. Consequently, we speak of God with humility as we recognize that nothing we say is absolutely equivalent with God’s own mind. But at the same time when we think God’s thoughts after him (Van Til) through analogous language we apprehend something true of God. We are, therefore, neither epistemological agnostics nor epistemological rationalists. Rather, we are little children who learn about their Father in ways accommodated to our limited, finite, fallible capacity.

This invigorates the journey to know God. It is a journey that is new every morning as we experience the divine but whose end seems even further away as we recognize our limited capacity to comprehend the one we are coming to know. It is an eternal journey—renewed every morning and filled with the wonder of what we do not yet know.

Two Stories: Humanity’s Foolish Detour (SBD 5)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

God partners with humanity as divine representatives within the shalom-filled creation, but humanity–and creation with it–degenerates through a series of crises.

Created and crowned with glory and honor as royal creatures within the creation, humanity chose a different route to the divine nature than God intended. While God invited humanity to share divine communion and gave them the status of divine imagers within the creation, humanity wanted more. We wanted to be God and consequently we created our own story within the creation.

Rejecting God’s offer to share the “divine nature” with the Creator (2 Peter 1:4), we pursued our own agenda to embrace the divine and created our own gods (ranging from idols of stone and wood to the contemporary gods of money, power and sex).

The Divine Image

Fundamentally, the “image of God” (Genesis 1:26-31) is “godlikeness.” This is unique to humanity among God’s creatures (Genesis 5:1-2; 9:6) which affirms the dignity and worth all humans. But it also limits humanity because the image is not the thing in itself. It is, in some respects, unlike the original. We are not God, but we are the image of God.

But what is this “image”? There are, generally, three primary ways of understanding it.

1. Substantive — The image is identified as some definite characteristic or quality within the makeup of the human (e.g., rationality, personality, morality, spirituality, etc.). The locus of the image is within human nature; it is a quality, substance or capacity resident in our nature or even inherent in our ontology.

2. Relational – The image is identified with the quality of experiencing relationships (e.g., relationship with God, male/female relationships, social relationships, etc.). The image is displayed as humanity lives in particular relationships. That relationship is the image. It mirrors God’s communion and God’s own relational ontology.

3. Functional (Dynamic) — The image consists in something that humanity does; the function it performs (e.g., stewardship, partnership with God, “dominion” over the earth, etc.). The image is not something present in the makeup of human nature nor is it the experience of relationship. Humanity is God’s representative on earth as a vice-regent and shares the divine mission regarding the creation. This is humanity’s honor and glory (Psalm 8).

I understand the “image of God” broadly, inclusive of all of the above. Humanity is substantively invested with gifts that enable us to live in relationship with others and to serve the function God has invested in it. The image of God is not one thing but the reality that we are divine icons who resemble and represent God within the creation. Understood in this way, the idea is pervasively present within the story of Scripture from “be holy for I am holy” to “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” to “imitate me as I imitate Christ.” We mirror God in substance, relationality and function.

Humanity is forbidden to make “images” (idols) of God. Those images have no “breath” in them (Habakkuk 2:19; Jeremiah 10:14; 51:17). God has no humanly made image, because God has already made the image he desired, that is, humanity as male and female. God does not need an image because we are the image of God.

The image of God, however, is fully revealed in Jesus who “is the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15; 2 Corinthians 4:4; Hebrews 1:3). He becomes the fountainhead of a new humanity. Whereas the old humanity in Adam bears his likeness with an earthy natural body characterized by dust, the new humanity in Christ bears his likeness with a heavenly spiritual body energized by the Spirit (Genesis 5:2; Philippians 3:21; 1 Corinthians 15:42-49). Our original human identity is restored and renewed in Christ.

Ontologically, humans have always retained their identity as images of God (divine representatives) and thus were entitled to dignity and respect (James 3:9). But the human detour through sin and death transformed that image from full color to a dark negative which needed renewal in the image of God (Ephesians 4:24; Colossians 3:10). The process of re-colorification begins with our spiritual renewal and ends with our eschatological glorification in the resurrection of the body (Romans 8:29-30).

Human Vocation

Humans were not only designed to represent God within the creation, they were designed to commune with God, to enjoy God. They were intended to share the divine nature through the divine image which stamped their nature, role and function. This is the human vocation, our human identity, that is, to live in communion with and partner with God in the management, development and care of the creation. Communion with God entails a divine vocation.

The mission of God (missio Dei) is to dynamically mature and develop the creation into the fullness of the divine intent. The human vocation is to share the divine task within creation. Humans are co-rulers and co-creators. They partner with God for the sake of the divine mission. God has invested in humanity a glory and a responsibility as divine representatives in the world.

The good creation was not complete at creation but only beginning. The creation would, according to the divine intent, emerge and grow into a maturity fitted for the eschatological dwelling place of the Triune God. Humans, too, would mature as diverse cultures emerged and technologies developed. God glories in both natural and human diversity. Humans who live near the Arctic Circle live differently and develop a different culture than those who live near the equator. Since God determined that the whole earth be inhabited (Isaiah 45:18-19), God intended this diversity, values it, and rejoices in it.

This involves every aspect of human life. The arts (music, literature, art) are expressions of human creativity as we image God and enjoy what is created. Technology manages resources, medicine serves wholeness, and social structures shape community. These are part of the human vocation, our partnership with God, as co-rulers and co-creatures within the creation.

A Rival Story Emerges

The human story took a detour. What were intended as expressions of the divine task given to humanity became modes of reversing the divine intent. Technology polluted the earth, social structures oppressed the weak, and the arts fostered human self-centeredness.

This detour is described in Genesis 3-11. God invested humanity with the freedom to choose between the “tree of life” and the “tree of knowledge of good and evil.” It was a choice between life and death, between partnering with God and autonomy. The episode in the garden of God’s temple (creation) symbolizes the plotline within God’s story of the fundamental choice human beings have between humility and pride (Psalm 138:6; Proverbs 18:12; James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5), between covenant with God or independence (cf. Deuteronomy 30:19; Joshua 24:15; John 7:17; Matthew 23:37).

The detour is not simply about the “fall” in the Garden but about the emergence of a rival story throughout Genesis 3-11. Evil grows in the story and fills the earth to such a point God destroys it through the Noahic flood. But even that cleansing did not deter humans from their own agenda. The story climaxes in the building of the Tower of Babel where the agenda of God’s creation is turned on its head. While God’s self-deliberation resulted in the creation of humanity (“let us create…”) in Genesis 1, the human self-deliberation resulted in the erection of a tribute to human arrogance and the desire to reach the heavens, that is, to become like God (“let us build….”). Humanity wanted to build their own city as a testimony to their autonomy. From Genesis 3 to Genesis 11 humanity degenerated into a broken, fallen and depraved image of God.

This degenerative process structurally uprooted God’s creative intent. The relationship between God and humanity was severed (e.g., expelled from the Garden), the relationship between male and female was distorted (e.g., husbands would now “rule” their wives), social relationships were deformed into relationships of power, abuse and violence (e.g., Cain and its aftermath), and the relationship between humanity and the cosmos became hostile (e.g., death). This degeneration was the “vandalism of Shalom” (Plantinga). It perverted the goodness of creation and stripped humanity of any power to defeat the enemy they had embraced.

The creation, however, was not without grace. Adam and Eve lived to bear children. Seth introduced a new line of humanity distinct from Cain. Enoch walked with God in the midst of a broken universe. Noah found grace in God’s eyes. And God would call Abraham in Genesis 12. God continued to pursue humanity and he did not forsake his purpose.

Sin

Though the word is rarely used in Genesis 3-11, sin emerges as a power within humanity as if it were an alien force. The dynamic of that power is larger than humanity itself and looking from the end of the God’s drama we see that power was demonic and Satanic. It became part of the “elements of the cosmos” itself. This does not mean that the creation became evil but that the creation was subjugated to the reign of evil powers.

Human choice, permitted by God’s will, gave that power to the chaotic and demonic elements within the cosmos. Humanity listened to the wrong voice. They chose sin and sin became a power within the human psyche; it became “second nature” to humanity. It is our “sinful nature” or sarx. The human condition degenerated into depravity and God gave humanity over to its desire (Romans 1:18-32). Sin reigned as a power within humanity and humanity was powerless to dethrone it (Romans 7).

Theologians have debated for centuries what the essence of sin is. The suggestions are wide-ranging, including disobedience, rebellion, pride, anxiety, law-breaking, idolatry and unbelief. Many of these metaphors are legal in character, others are introspective. But I tend to think that sin’s fundamental problem is relational.

The essence of sin, as Grenz argues, is the failure to image God. We were created as the glory of God, that is, to image God, and we have fallen short of that glory (Romans 3:23). We have missed the mark. We have failed to represent God in the world. Instead, through rebellious pride, we have asserted our own agenda. Sin is anything that fails to mirror God’s vocation, character and intent in the world. This includes individual but also social actions and structures which depress or subvert the divine agenda. Sin is not only personal but social; sin is not merely an individual act but a structural reality and dominating power in the world.

So What?

Every human person has intrinsic value and dignity. Our status as divine imagers is both our identity and vocation, and this gives worth to every human life. This is the root of a healthy self-esteem as well as the ground of a human rights ethic.

God intended change; he intended his creation to emerge, evolve and develop. Nature evolved, human society developed, and cultures emerged. The richness and diversity of the creation in all its biological forms is a testimony to God’s manifold wisdom. Just as God, humanity enjoys this diversity and learns about itself through the diverse expressions of human culture.

The human adventure is a fundamental conflict between two stories. One story humbly participates in the divine agenda but the other story arrogantly creates its own agenda. It is a contrast between humility and pride. Human conceit empowered evil in the world and rooted it in the fabric of the cosmos. The kingdom of God became the kingdom of Satan but intends to reverse that sad fact.

The human predicament is mixed. The divine image is present but blackened. The human vocation is intact but distorted. Humans are powerless to renew, restore or redeem the broken creation without divine grace. But God is present in the creation to redeem—present in Seth, Enoch, Noah…and ultimately Abraham. God has not forsaken his purposes and his intent will not be frustrated.

Fearless and Free During Economic Storms III

Note: This is the second of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham, the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here. The first small group study lesson is here and the full series is available on my Serial page.

Let Go, and Use It: The Parable of the Unjust Steward
Luke 16:1-15

Although the NIV leaves out the word, the text begins with an “also” as if this parable is an addendum to the parables Jesus told in Luke 15 (the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost boy). Those parables were directed, at least in part, toward the Pharisees (Luke 15:12). Interestingly—and confirming this point—Jesus’ application of this parable is directed toward the Pharisees as well (16:14-15).\

While the Pharisees scoffed at the parable and many believers have wondered about the propriety of the parable (it uses a dishonest servant as a model!), Jesus is very clear and decisive about the point of the story (16:9): “I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.” The NIV actually softens the language here a bit—the text reads “unrighteous wealth” rather than merely “worldly wealth.”

Money is viewed in this text as “unrighteous” and as a god that competes with the Lordship of God.
At one level Jesus advises his disciples (“people of light”) to use their money shrewdly (wisely, intelligently) as this dishonest servant did. As disciples we neither waste nor hoard money. Rather, we see money as a resource for eternal benefit; we see it as a way to further the kingdom of God. In particular, the children of light use their money to serve the kingdom of light which has eternal consequences for others as well as ourselves.

At another level Jesus critiques the idolatrous nature of loving money. The Pharisees loved money and served it. When we love money we bow before it and it controls us. Instead, we are called to serve God without our money—and to serve him shrewdly (wisely).

James A. Harding (1848-1922), co-founder of Lipscomb University, constantly emphasized these two principles. For example, he applied them to whoever operates their “business, whatever that may be, solely for the advancement of God’s kingdom; if [everyone] should consider [themselves] as being in the world simply and solely for that purpose, what a wonderful change we would have in the world!”[1] “I believe,” Harding wrote, “that Christians should use their surplus promptly for the poor, the sick and the kingdom of God.”[2]

The wise manager of their money, Jesus seems to say, will shrewdly devote to the interests of the kingdom of God rather than hoard it as a lover of money or waste it through self-indulgence. Even “unrighteous wealth” may serve the kingdom and the disciples of Jesus do not use it for the sake of the kingdom of light they may find themselves worshipping mammon rather than serving their master.

The deceitfulness of this mammon means that we often find ourselves in a self-justifying and defensive mode. Jesus reorients us to the use of money, a shrewd and wise use, for the sake of the kingdom of God as a way to invest in God’s eternal kingdom project. Here is where discipleship lies when the choice is between mammon and the master.

Questions:

1. What was it about the Pharisees that moved them to scoff at the parable and its meaning?
2. What is that Jesus commends about “shrewdness”? What would contrast with “shrewdness” in the use of money?
3. What do you think about the sentiments of James A. Harding? In what ways do they resonate with you or not?
4. What is the propriety of using “unrighteous wealth” for making “friends”? Does something about that run against your values?
5. What are some “shrewd” or “wise” ways to use money for the benefit of the kingdom of God?

References

[1] James A. Harding, “The Contradictory Theories,” The Way 3 (4 April 1901) 4.

[2] James A. Harding, “Reflections Suggested by My Trip to Odessa, MO,” Christian Leader & the Way 22.8 (25 February 1908) 8.

Election: Before We Called God Answered (SBD 6)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

God elects us in Christ through faith and we know our election in Christ through faith.

As of Genesis 11 the human condition was filled with violence, power (Empire), and immorality. The seeming hopelessness of Genesis 11—though grace is present in scattering humanity rather than destroying it at the Tower of Babel—leaves us wondering whether humanity can ever escape the degenerative spiral of their own sinfulness.

But God’s intent is redemptive. The divine purpose in creation will not be frustrated. God pursues humanity in grace in order to dwell among a people who love and trust God. Grace initiates this pursuit, empowers faith and will complete the divine purpose. Before we called God answered (Isaiah 65:24). That is the doctrine of election.

The Call of Abraham

God called Abraham into a covenantal relationship. God blessed Abraham that all the nations might be blessed. Abraham did not initiate this relationship, but God chose Abraham as the means by which God would bless humanity. God decided to redeem humanity through the seed of Abraham.

There was nothing in Abraham that demanded that God choose him. God chooses whom God desires to accomplish the divine purpose. Divine election is by God’s own pleasure and will. God chooses whom God desires. No one makes a claim on God. “Who has ever given to God that God should repay him?” (Romans 11:35 quoting Job 41:11).

Abraham believed the promise of God (Genesis 15:6) and through faith received the promise (Galatians 3:6-9; Hebrews 11:8-19). God enacted the covenant of circumcision as the seal for Abraham’s faith guaranteeing the promise which he received through faith (Romans 4:9-12).

God kept his promise to Abraham when God chose Israel as a treasured possession. God redeemed them from Egyptian bondage. God did not love them because they were a numerous people, a great people or a righteous nation since they were few, stubborn and wicked. Rather, God chose them because God loved them (Deuteronomy 7:6-10; 9:4-6).

The covenant relationship, initiated by God’s love, is experienced in Israel through faith. The just shall live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4). Branches are broken off Israel because of unbelief but others stand by faith (Romans 11:20). Israel will be saved by faith as they pursue righteousness by faith (Romans 9:30-32; 10:4, 10-12).

God has determined to choose the elect through faith and it is through faith that the chosen know their election. God may have mercy on whom God desires and God has decided to have mercy on humanity through faith.

Jesus, the Elect One

In fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham, God has redeemed a people through Abraham’s seed. Jesus the Christ is the Elect One. The Father elects or chooses us in and through Christ. Consequently, Christ is the foundation of all election.

The doxology of Ephesians 1 teaches that the Father elects us in Christ through the power of the Spirit. The Father was moved by love (1:4), grace (1:6, 7), and God’s own good pleasure and will (1:5, 9). Divine action is highlighted: God blessed (1:3), chose (1:4, 11), predestined (1:5, 11), lavished grace (1:8), revealed (1:9), purposed (1:9), included (1:13) and marked (1:13) us. Divine purpose is stressed: to sanctify (1:4), to adopt (1:5), to redeem (1:7), to reorder (1:10), and to purpose toward the goal (1:11).

The Father’s movement, however, was Christocentric. The Father elects in and through Christ (1:3-5, 7, 9, 11-13) and toward the goal of reordering everything under the headship of Christ (1:10).

We are the object of this election. The Father elects those who are in Christ. Just as Christ is the first object of election, so those in Christ are the second object of election. We are elect through Christ’s own election and we are included when we hear and believe the gospel (1:13-14). The divinely appointed means of election is faith since by grace we are saved through faith (Ephesians 2:8).

God has determined to elect us in Christ Jesus and we know our election in Christ through faith.

Election: Arminianism vs. Calvinism?

Despite whatever differences exist between Arminianism and Calvinism—two historic ways of thinking about divine election (see the Serial Index for posts on these theological systems), they share some significant common ground on the doctrine of election.

Divine Initiative. Whatever the doctrine of election means, it at least insists that God took the initiative in the redemption. God made the first move. We love because God first loved. We believe because God first acted. This initiative involves not merely the first act (as if God acted first and then passively sits back to see how we respond) but that God continuously acts in unrelentingly pursuit of a people. God’s love pursues us, engages us and moves us. This excludes all boasting since election means that God has removed all grounds for human merit and has located the ground of salvation in his gracious and loving acts.

Christocentrism. Christ is the Elect One (Ephesians 1). Both Calvin and Arminius emphasized this point, and it has been powerfully renewed in the 20th century by Karl Barth. Election is Christocentric since Christ is God’s Elect One. We are elect because we are in Christ. Whatever else we may say about election, we should not lose sight of this foundational soteriological insight: God has chosen us in Christ because Christ has been chosen. We are only elect through Christ. His election is logically, ontologically and epistemologically prior to our own.

Economic Revelation. We only know that God has acted decisively in Jesus as the Elect One because God is revealed in history and God’s actions are interpreted in Scripture. We only know our election in Christ because God has revealed the Elect One (2 Timothy 1:8-11). Debates about the “secret” will of God are unprofitable exactly because that will is “secret.” We know our election through the revelation of God in Christ. God has revealed the divine election through Christ and we have no other access to it. Consequently, we ought to think about election within the salvation history (economy) of God’s story, that is, within the revealed history of God in Israel and Christ. Thinking about the election of God in terms of the “eternal” mind of God is speculative, but thinking about divine election in the light of Jesus Christ is rooted in God’s historical revelation. We perceive our own election only through the revelation of that election in Christ. When we step outside of or seek to go beyond this historic revelation, we enter worlds, which our minds have created rather than what God has revealed. Election and assurance are economically tied to Christ.

Means of Faith. Faith is the means of both justification and sanctification. When we make justification dependent upon sanctification, then we begin a never-ending journey since we will never be sure whether our sanctification is sufficient (in terms of its depth, amount, comprehensiveness and quality). When we sever the relationship between justification and sanctification, we become antinomian and discredit the role of sanctification as evidence of justification. The way to avoid legalism on the one hand and antinomianism on the other is to see faith as the principle that unites justification and sanctification. We are justified by faith and we are sanctified by faith. Faith is the means by which we are accounted righteous before God and faith is the means by which the Spirit transforms us. Faith is both the means of salvation and the means of assurance. We are elect, then, through faith in Christ. Faith functions as an instrument, not as a meritorious act. It is the means by which we come to know our own election.

So What?

Priority of God’s Act. God acted before we acted. Salvation, then, originates wholly out of grace and God’s movement toward us. The fundamental presupposition of election is God’s initiative. Confidence is rooted in this claim. It is not that we must win God’s favor or prove ourselves to him. Rather, God lovingly embraces us and seeks us. The picture of God is not the ogre or the tyrant, but the loving father.

Undeserved Salvation. Election emphasizes that nothing in us moved God to act for our sakes in Christ. Rather, God acted when we were unworthy. God loved us even when we were yet sinners. No human act merits or deserves God’s electing grace. Boasting is excluded on all counts. It was God who decided to save and not we who put God in our debt through our virtue or holiness.

Focus on Christology. Karl Barth is correct to focus the doctrine of election in Jesus Christ. He is the Elect One, and it is through him that we find hope and assurance. The doctrine of election, then, should not be about some eternal order of decrees or speculation concerning the hidden will of God. Rather it is the exposition of God’s choice of Jesus to save the world and God’s movement toward us in him. Election is a Christological teaching.

Election and Assurance. While some Augustinians (Calvinists) in the history of theology have focused the question in terms of “Am I elect?,” most have recognized that this is not the proper question. No one can see into the hidden will of God to discover in the abstract whether they are elect of not. Calvin believed that whoever tries this “Am I elect?” question “plunges headlong into an immense abyss, involves himself in numberless inextricable snares, and buries himself in the thickest darkness…Therefore, as we dread shipwreck, we must avoid this rock, which is fatal to everyone who strikes upon it” (Institutes 3.24.4). Assurance of election is rooted Christologically—I am elect when I trust in Christ as the Elect One. Election “from below” is mediated through faith in Christ. Here Augustinians and Arminians can agree. “If Pighius asks how I know I am elect, I answer that Christ is more than a thousand testimonies to me” (Institutes 3.24.4). It is only in Christ that we are elect and pleasing to God. He is the author of election and mediates election—the critical question is “do we trust Christ?” According to Calvin, Christ is the mirror of our election such that when we look in faith toward Jesus we see the reflection of our election in him.

Israel and Scripture: Lighting the Way for the Nations (SBD 7)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

God called Israel to guide the nations and entrusted her with the oracles of God.

When God called Abraham he intended to create a nation that would bless all nations. Rather than destroying humanity at the Tower of Babel, God chose to begin anew with a new Adam. God chose Abraham through whom God created Israel and thus ultimately chose Jesus, the second Adam of the human race.

Israel as the Image of God

Israel existed as a remnant among the nations. “You only have I chosen of all the families of the earth” (Amos 3:2). The prospects for humanity looked bleak at the end of Genesis 11 but God elected Israel as a nation among the peoples of the earth in which to reveal divine mercy and glory. With Israel God created anew, just as with Noah and just as in the beginning with adam.

God invested in Israel as a showcase of wisdom and understanding, a display of divine glory and righteousness. The Torah was a witness to the nations, and if Israel lived by its guidance the nations would praise them: “Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people” (Deuteronomy 4:6).

Israel was designed as the new image of God in the world, a communal testimony to God’s intent for the whole of creation. Israel was supposed to be what adam was in the beginning. They were intended as a people who represent God in the world and a people among whom God could live in community.

Israel did not exist as an end in itself but was a servant to the nations. The “Great Commission of the Old Testament” underscores that Israel had a missional purpose—the nation was a “light for the Gentiles” and appointed to “bring [God’s] salvation to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). Israel existed to bless other nations—not simply as the means to the Messiah, but as a witness to the holy love of God for the world.

Yet Israel hardened its heart (e.g., 1 Samuel 6:6). Instead of participating in God’s mission, Israel fell and progressively repeated the cycle of creation and fall throughout its history (e.g., Judges). Humanity, even among blessed Israel, was caught in the ruling power of evil.

Divine Gifts to Israel

Despite Israel’s failure to image God as a nation, they nevertheless experience the merciful presence of God in their midst. God gave Israel gifts which were not present among other nations in the world. That does not mean that God disinterested or neglectful of other nations (e.g., Jonah) but that God had chosen Israel as a special vessel of his mercy to the nations with unique graces to encourage their mission.

Paul summarizes these gifts in Romans 9:4-5. The list is worth quoting: “They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises. To them belong the patriarchs, and from their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.”

The gifts embody the redemptive and covenantal presence of God within Israel. They are adopted children of the Creator God and they experience the glory presence of the God who dwells among them. They are the covenant people of God (e.g., Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davidic) and the Torah guides them in that relationship. They know the joy of temple worship with its Levitical liturgy that embodies the presence of God among the people and they live in hope under the promises of God (especially the promise of the Messiah). These are the people of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They are God’s covenant people, an elect, holy nation, created to image God in the world.

Paul concludes his gift list with a Christological doxology. The Messiah has now come through Israel. The Messiah is a participant in these gifts, but he is more. God’s anointed one is also praised as God. The God who entered into covenant with Israel and dwelt among them has come in Jesus to redeem the people from their sins and to open the gates for the Gentiles to also experience the gifts of God. Those who were once strangers to the covenant are now included (Ephesians 2:11-12).

The Development of Scripture

Though Paul does not mention this gift in Romans 9, he had earlier noted that Israel was entrusted with “the very words of God” (Romans 3:2, NIV). They were the keepers of the record of God’s mighty acts among the nations and in Israel.

Scripture does not “drop out of the sky.” On the contrary, the collection of holy writings called “Scripture” (writings) grows and develops over time within the course of Israel’s history. Scripture is produced as part of the process of redemptive (salvation) history and intimately connected to their status as a covenant nation.

God used covenantal messengers (including editors during the inscripturation process) to guide Israel in their life as the covenant people of God (cf. Jeremiah 7:25-26; Nehemiah 9:29-30). The Torah provided the foundational covenant history (e.g., Exodus) and covenantal instruction (e.g., Deuteronomy). Prophets called people to faithful obedience to the covenant, warned Israel of its failures, and encouraged Israel with hopeful promises (Hosea 4:1-3; Micah 6:1-8; Isaiah 40). Prophets, among others, recorded covenantal histories that bore witness to the history of God’s relationship with Israel (e.g., 1 Chronicles 29:29; 2 Chronicles 33:19). The singers and sages of Israel provided liturgy and wisdom for life in Israel (Psalms, Proverbs).

The canon of holy writings emerged throughout the history of Israel as a way of grounding Israel in its past, guiding it in the present, and providing hope for the future. They are bound up with Israel’s history and Israel’s status as the covenant people of God. The Scriptures are God’s unique gift to Israel and through Israel to the nations.

These are the “holy Scriptures” which Paul commended to Timothy as “able to” make him “wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.” These are the texts that Paul describes as “breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:12-17; ESV).

The Function of Scripture

Scripture, in general, serves a covenantal function which is expressed through diverse genres and occasions. Scripture essentially administers the divine covenant with God’s people and is thus normative for how God’s people live in covenant with God in the different cultures and situations in which the people Scripture addresses lived.

Scripture bears witness to, interprets and applies the saving work of God in Israel and, climatically, in Jesus to the people of God. It narrates the redemptive work of God in Christ, interprets that work for us, and applies its meaning and significance to its original hearers. Though Scripture was written to those who received it in the past, it was also written for believers in coming centuries.

The nature of Scripture is covenantal. As covenant people, we are guided by the covenant witness of Scripture. Scripture is neither simply a love letter nor is it a legal constitution for the postivistic construction of “rules”–it is a covenant. As covenant, it has both regulatory and relational functions. It bears witness to God’s acts of redemptive love and calls us into relationship with him. It instructs and guides the people of God how to live in communion with him; it tells us how to live out our identity as the images (representative) of God in the world. The authors of Scripture, God’s covenantal messengers, interpret the meaning of God’s saving work and apply it to the lives of their original readers.

This witness, as we have it now in the whole of the prophetic and apostolic witness, is rooted in the saving acts of God that inaugurates a new creation—one that is already, but not yet. Jesus himself is the witness to God’s saving work and the embodiment of the covenantal principles that shape all service to God. Jesus, as incarnate God, is the image of God, the true Israel, the true human. He is the fundamental pattern for our life before God.

Scripture—from the Hebrew Scriptures to the Gospels to the Epistles—bears witness to Jesus as our pattern. He is the mediator of the covenant by which we draw near to and live in communion with God.

God acted in Christ to redeem the world and created a new community (which is actually a restoration of Israel as Luke-Acts emphasizes). This new community was led by God’s covenantal messengers (the apostles). They instructed the early church in the covenant, both orally and in written form. These teachings, as norms, were rooted in God’s covenantal acts in Christ. The norm (or canon) is God’s work in Jesus; the world newly created through the cross of Jesus (Galatians 6:14-16). The church is left with the apostolic writings, the covenantal writings of the apostles, which bear witness to this act of God in Jesus. They constitute covenant documents, added to the covenantal witness of the Hebrew Scriptures, which guide the church. They contain both the record of God’s covenantal acts and the covenantal interpretation of those acts by the apostles (cf. Ephesians 3:1-6).

Moreover, these apostolic documents are applications of the work of God in Christ to the people of God. They witness to God’s acts, interpret them, and apply them. No other interpretation is as authoritative as that of the apostles. This is God’s witness through the apostles. The early church recognized the foundational, unrepeatable and fixed nature of that witness, as it testified to the acts of God in Christ and their meaning for the new community founded on those acts. The early church found itself bound by these documents as the rule of God through apostolic witness. The contemporary church is bound by these documents just as the early church was and it is interpreted through the lens of the canon (rule) that is Jesus himself.

Scripture, both Hebrew and Greek, is the practical application of theology in specific situations. Through its application we see the theology. Now, as ministers of the covenant, we take the same theology and apply it to our present situations. Consequently, what we really do is not so much apply Scripture but apply the theology that Scripture teaches. Thus, the task of “restoration”  is not the reproduction of the historic practice of the early church but the reapplication of its theology in a new context—our context. Our task is embody the life of Jesus in the present both as communities and individuals of faith, that is, to live within the narrative of Christian (belonging to Jesus) identity.

Scripture guides believers in knowing the story, understanding its meaning, and embodying it in the present.

So What?

The Scriptures are unique texts whose witness is divine in origin.  The witness and interpretation of Scripture is not ultimately a human one, but it is a divine interpretation of God’s own acts in history. The message of Scripture, though it comes to us in human langauge, written by humans and for humans, originates in the mind of God and is produced through God’s own breath.

The Scriptures are the “norming norm” of the Christian faith. Scripture is our normative guide for living in covenant relationship with God. As a norm, it functions authoritatively within the community of faith and provides a trustworthy message. This norm, however, is not an isolated word but a word given in the context of God’s historic acts in Christ (a Christological canon) which the church has confessed from the beginning (e.g., regula fidei). or “canon of truth”

The Scriptures communicate a true message of salvation. It is a medium of revelation, and through Scripture we learn about the work of God in Israel’s history. Scripture is a divine witness to God’s saving work, the only place where one finds God’s own interpretation of his saving acts in Israel and the only place where one finds God’s covenantal messengers applying God’s message to the people of God.

Our Triune God: The Wonder of the Story (SBD 8)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The divine ontology is Being-in-Relation—the Christian narrative describes God as one and three.

Trinitarianism has a checkered history at the practical level. In the average congregation, or ministerial gathering, or seminary classroom, the subject of the Trinity comes as bad news rather than good. Just when we have struggled to believe in God, Christians also believe that God is, in some inexplicable way, both one and three. This incomprehensible affirmation seems to have nothing to do with daily life.

It is as if Christians come to know God first, and then tack on the Trinity as an addendum. Whether God is triune or not becomes insignificant to discipleship. When it appears that the God is better understood without the doctrine of the Trinity, some regard it as superfluous, though it may be reverently acknowledged as a mystery. When it seems incompatible with divine unity it is jettisoned by others.

But the confession of a Triune God is eminently practical and theologically rooted in God’s redemptive-historical self-revelation. Trinity is the Christian doctrine of God.

Economic Trinitarianism

We cannot begin with abstract ideas of threeness and oneness in discussing the Trinity. Instead, we begin with the concrete threeness of the Christian Scriptures. The starting point for Trinitarian thinking is the narrative of God where the Father, Son and Spirit participate in revelatory events (historical acts).

Christians did not begin talking about threeness because they were fond of the number. Rather, as they experienced God in Jesus through the Holy Spirit, they spoke in terms of three. The starting point for understanding the Trinity is the economic Trinity—God’s self-revelation in the narrated history of redemption. Jesus, the Son, prayed to the Father who poured out the Spirit upon him. This economic revelation is an authentic revelation of the God’s own identity (immanent Trinity, e.g., God’s own transcendent life before the creation). In the history of redemption, the one God is revealed as, in some sense, three.

The God of Israel is one God. There is no other. Israel confessed this monotheistic faith through the Shema: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one” (Deuteronomy 4:6). Paul unpacked the Shema where the Father is the one God and the Son is the one Lord (1 Corinthians 8:6). Christians reinterpreted the Shema as the affirmation of God’s community as well as unity.

The God of Israel sent the Son into the world—born of woman (enfleshed), born under the law (an Israelite)—who prayed to the Father as “Abba.” The Son who shares the reality of the Father as theos (God; John 1:1; Romans 9:6) became flesh and dwelt within the cosmos (John 1:14). As the monogenes theos (“the only God,” John 1:18), nestled in the bosom of the Father, he is the exegesis of the Father. The Son reveals the Father since he is one with the Father. The confessed identity of the Son—distinct in person but united as theos—moved Christians to worship the Son along with the Father (Revelation 5:13).

When Jesus, the Son of God, ascended to the right hand of the Father, the Father through the Son poured out the Holy Spirit upon Israel at Pentecost (Acts 2). By this Spirit believers cry out to the Father through the Son as “Abba” (Galatians 4:6; Romans 8:15-17). The Incarnate Son was the first Paraclete, the Spirit is the “other Paraclete” whom the Son promised he would send from the Father (John 14:16). The Spirit appears as the medium of the communion of Jesus with the Father and the means by which believers participate in Christ. This is clear in terms of the resurrection and the indwelling of the Spirit in Rom. 8:11-15. The Spirit is the one through whom we have fellowship with God—the Spirit is the presence of God among us since Jesus did not leave us as orphans (John 14:18).

The Christian experience of God is a communion with the Father, Son and Spirit. The presence of the Spirit is our communion with the Father through the Son (2 Corinthians 13:14; Ephesians 2:18, 22). Consequently, the very structure of salvation within Pauline texts (as an example) is triune (three-fold). Here are a few representative texts:

1 Corinthians 12:4-6: “the same Spirit…the same Lord…the same God.”
Ephesians 2:18: “for through him [Christ] we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.”
Ephesians 4:4-6: “one Spirit…one Lord…one God and Father of us all.”
2 Corinthians 1:21-22: “God who makes both us and you to stand firm in Christ…set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts.”
Galatians 4:4-6: “God sent his Son, born of a woman…because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts.”
Titus 3:4-6: “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior….He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior.”

The three are one in their divine work to redeem humanity. The Father elects through the redemptive work of Christ as the Spirit renews God’s love in our hearts. This is a divine work from beginning (election) to end (transformation) which the Father accomplishes through his Son in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Johannine Trinitarianism

The Farewell Speech in the Gospel of John (chapters 14-16) depicts God as a three-fold (communal) unity. The four triune statements in the speech underscore the distinct personal identity of the Father, Son and Spirit but their shared communion in the unitary work of redemption and shared life (John 14:16-17; 14:26; 15:26; 16:7, 16).

The shared communion is characterized by love and mutual indwelling. This is quite explicit in the relationship between the Father and Son as each dwells in the other and they share a love for each other (John 14:10-11; 15:9; 17:21, 26). The Spirit represents and is the medium by whom the Father and Son continue their work in the redemptive story once the Son goes to the Father (John 16:28). As Jesus glorifies the Father and not himself, so the Spirit does not glorify himself but the Son (John 16:14). Precisely by not speaking of himself but bearing witness to Jesus, he shows himself to be the Spirit of truth. Distinct from the Father and the Son, he nevertheless belongs to both.

The Gospel of John pictures what some have called the “mystery of divine interpenetration” or “inness” (John 10:38; 14:10, 20; 17:21, 23). It represents an ineffable union, an intimacy transcending our finitude. Even though they are one, they are not one person. It is a unity in community—a communal oneness; it is organic and familial. The Father, Son and Spirit live in full transparency, love and mutuality.

The Triune God is the epitome of unity and diversity—united as theos they are also a community of love. They are the ground of the cosmos—God as Being-in-Relation. The cosmos is, at its root, both one and many, both one and three. Relationality is the cosmic ontology and this is rooted in the Christian doctrine of Trinity.

Iconic Trinitarianism

Andrei Rublev painted the “Holy Trinity” around 1411. He was beatified by the Russian Orthodox Church as “St. Andrei” solely for the extraordinary intensity and majesty of this icon. The image embodies the essence of Trinitarian dogma.

The icon portrays the visit of the angels to Abraham in Genesis 18 but excludes Abraham and Sarah from the picture in order to focus on the dogmatic meaning of the Trinity. The three sit around a table with a chalice as the centerpiece. The figure on the left—the Father—is arrayed in an indistinct gold (a transcendent tone), the figure in the middle—the Son—in brown (an earthy tone), and the figure on the right—the Holy Spirit—in green (the vibrancy of living earth). Each one is also dressed in blue to represent their equality—they are divine. The unity and diversity of the triune life is thus pictured in vivid colors.

Rublev depicts the theophany in an open circle with their heads gracefully inclined toward each other. The circular pattern embodies the theological idea of perichoresis—the loving dance of the Triune persons. Their faces are filled with peace and harmony while their gestures are gentle and loving. The Father and Son look at each other lovingly while the Spirit looks at the chalice as if to descend upon the cup. The chalice represents the Eucharist which is the center of Orthodox liturgy and its theology of redemption. The Eucharist is communion with the Triune God.

The open circle invites others to come to the table and experience the divine community. We are invited into the inner circle of God’s own life to sit at the table of God with God. This is salvation. As the ancient Orthodox sang (Lossky, The Meaning of Icons, 201):

“The blessed Abraham saw the Trinity,
as far as man can,
and regaled It as a good friend.”

So What?

Relationality—communal subsistence—is woven into the fabric of the cosmos itself. God is not an isolated, single monarch whose only relation is to rule. God is a community of equals (they share the divine nature) united in mutual love. The perichoretic love within the Trinity is a love willing to be vulnerable that sovereignly decides to enter into relationship with others. This is the heart of who God is as Creator and Redeemer. All forms of human love, then, are faint reflections of that Triune love internal to God’s own life.

The communion of the divine persons is a model for human community: family, church, and society. The doctrine of the Trinity provides the theological resources for communal life and relationality. We-in-the-plural images God (though it has been defaced by sin). This cautions against the individualism of modern culture as well as the individualistic soteriology of much modern theology (including Evangelicalism).

The doctrine of Trinity assures us of God’s economic presence through the incarnation and indwelling Spirit. God as Immanuel came in the flesh but now God dwells among us and within us as the Holy Spirit. The presence of the Spirit is the presence of God who links heaven and earth (2 Corinthians 13:14; Ephesians 2:18). The Father did not orphan us, that is, he has not left us without his personal presence. That presence is not mediated by some inferior being, angel or mediator but by his own Spirit in our hearts. God is still with us as the indwelling Spirit.

The triune picture of God grounds missionary theology. The divine community shares an intimate and full love for each other, but also extends that love in both creation and redemption beyond that community. In creation, the divine community shared its love with others. It invited those who are made in their image to participate in the joy of communion. In redemption, the divine community shared its love with a hostile and sinful humanity. The incarnation itself is the great missionary project and the model of all missionary activity. God himself came to a hostile world to invite it back into communion with the divine community. If the divine community is a model for the church and the church is to be one just as the Father and Son are one (John 17:20-21), then the church must ground its missional spirit in the doctrine of Trinity.

Liturgically, we praise the Father through the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit. This doxological approach keeps the economic roles of the Trinity in focus, preserving the fountainhead of the Father, recognizing the redemptive instrumentality of the Son and honoring the empowering presence of the Spirit. The Christological and pneumatological dimensions of Christian liturgy reflect the newness of God’s work in the present age. We do not worship God in the abstract but we worship the Father because he has acted in Jesus for our sakes and God is present among us by the Spirit. Liturgy, therefore, reflects the triune nature of God as the Father is praised through Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus of Nazareth: The Image of God (SBD 9)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The Word, the Son, became flesh and lived an authentic human life as the image of God.

Christology lies at the heart of Christianity because the Christian Faith believes that God is in Christ restoring the world to communion with the Triune God. Christianity is Theocentric because God reconciles the world but it is Christocentric because Christ is the means by which God accomplishes this. God through Christ redeems the creation.

Redemptive-Historical Structure

The structure of the Christian narrative is Creation, Fall, and Redemption. This structure is a cosmic drama from the Garden of Eden to the Eschaton. It is also a historical drama in the life of Israel as it repeats this cycle throughout history (e.g., Judges). But, most importantly, it is the personal history of God in Jesus.

Though the Logos, the Son of God, was present at and even the instrument of creation (John 1:1), the Son humbly became a human being who was broken by the cosmic fallenness (e.g., he died) but was exalted by the Father to his own right hand in the heavenlies (e.g, resurrection and ascension). This is the Christological story that appears throughout the Christian Scriptures. The below chart illustrates the pervasive nature of these themes.

Creation (Pre-existence)

John: The Word was God (John 1:1)
Hebrews: Through whom he made the worlds (Hebrews 1:2)
Paul: He is before all things (Colossians 1:17)
Peter: Manifested in these last times (1 Peter 1:20)
Matthew: Immanuel, God with Us (Matthew 1:28)
Luke-Acts: The Son of God (Luke 1:35)

Fallenness (Humiliation)

John: The Word became flesh (John 1:14)
Hebrews: Made lower than the angels (Hebrews 2:8-9)
Paul: Born of woman (Galatians 4:4)
Peter: Suffered for us in the Flesh (1 Peter 4:1)
Matthew: Came to Serve and Ransom his Life (Matthew 20:28)
Luke-Acts: He was numbered with the transgressors (Luke 22:37)

Redemption (Exaltation)

John: Glorified Together with God (John 17:5)
Hebrews: Heir of all Things (Hebrews 1:2)
Paul: Seated in Heavenly Places (Ephesians 1:20-21)
Peter: At the right hand of God (1 Peter 3:22)
Matthew: All Authority given to Jesus (Matthew 28:18)
Luke-Acts: God made him both Lord and Christ (Acts 2:36)

The same one through whom the cosmos was created is the same one who became flesh and lived among us. The same one who through whom God made the worlds is the same one was made a little lower than the angels. The same one who was before the creation of the world is the same one who was born of woman. The one who lived in eternal fellowship with the Father and the Spirit is the same one who joined the human race in order to commune with it as a human. The Son became human and his Sonship (relationship with the Father) was declared at his birth, baptism, death and resurrection.

The Son in the flesh shared our fallenness. He is tempted; he hungers, thirsts, experiences pain, and ultimately dies. The humiliation of Christ is his identification with us in our fallenness—from his birth through his baptism to his death he stands with the lowly, he shares the rituals and death of sinners. He was born among shepherds, he was baptized with those who confessed sin, and he died between the transgressors. He shared our fallenness without guilt and sin, but along with humanity he suffered under the curse of creation which Adamic sin brought upon the world. The Son of God experienced humiliation.

But the same one who suffered in the flesh is the same one who was raised to the right hand of the Father. The same one who ransomed his life is the same one who received all authority in heaven and on earth. The same one who was numbered with the transgressors is the same one who was appointed Lord and Christ by the Father. After he suffered, he entered into his glory—the reigning, resurrected heir of the cosmos. His resurrection and ascension revealed Jesus to be what he already is, that is, God’s Son.

The Divine-Human Identity

The unity between the pre-existent one and the incarnate one is fundamental to Christian theology. This is the mystery of the divine-human identity of Jesus of Nazareth. The same one who existed as God is the same one who humbled himself as Jesus of Nazareth. The divine Logos, with a distinct personal identity from the Father and Spirit, is the same person who assumed flesh as Jesus of Nazareth. It is one person who experiences cosmic reality through two natures—divine and human. This personal (hypostatic) unity preserves the identity of the one through whom the world was created as the same one who was humbled and then exalted to the right hand of the Father.

Philippians 2:6-8 is one of the classic texts for the exploration of this identity. It easily divides into two stanzas. The chart below represents the structure.         

Stanza A (vv. 6-7a) Incarnation	Stanza B (vv. 7b-8) Humiliation
in the form of God existing	in the likeness of humanity becoming
did not think to exploit the equality with God	and being found in appearance as a human being
emptied	humbled
taking the form of a slave	becoming obedient to death even the death of the cross

The one who existed in the form (morphe) of God took on the form (morphe) of a slave—this is the act of incarnation. The morphe in which this one (Son) existed was equal with God (the Father). Rather than exploiting this equality toward selfish advantages (NRSV), the Son “emptied himself” by taking on another morphe. The Son became a slave, subject to the humiliation and brokenness of a fallen world. Becoming human, he became obedient to the death, even the humiliating and shameful death of the cross—this is an act of self-humiliation.

1. The text affirms the pre-existent equality of the Son with the Father. The Son existed in the “form of God” so that he was equal with God the Father.
2. The text affirms the choice which the Son made in humility to become incarnate, that is, to take on the “form of a servant.” The free self-giving of the Son is emphasized—the abasement of his own interests for the sake of the interests of others.
3. The text affirms the personal unity between the one who existed in the form of God and added to himself another nature, the form of a servant. It is the same person who is both divine and human.
4. The text affirms that this condensation (humiliation) was done through taking on additional nature—the form of a servant. This is the content of the emptying. There is no hint that this one ceased to be God. It is, rather, the self-humiliation of God.

This theological understanding is the root principle of the ethical appeal in Philippians 2:3-5. The theological model of the Son’s self-humiliating act of incarnation is a call for believers to emulate this selfless service for the interests of others.

Authentic Human Identity

Stan Grenz summarized the authenticity of the human life of the Incarnate Son as truly human, true human and the new human (Created for Community, 117-123). While the categories are his, the sentiments below are my own.

The Son is truly human in that the Son authentically experienced human reality as a human with a human psyche. He experienced human existence limited by the finitude of creaturehood (e.g., bounded by time and space). He grew in knowledge and wisdom like other human beings. He experienced the brokenness of the world like other human beings. He hungered, thirsted and grew fatigued just like others. He was perfected through suffering. He wept at graves, struggled with decisions (Garden of Gethsemane) and was tempted by sin just like other human beings. His humanity knew no inherent power or knowledge that transcended the rest of humanity. The Son was fully immersed in human creatureliness. The Son fully and completely identified with humanity and empathetically experienced its suffering. This is the kenosis (emptying) of the Son–he pours himself out into fully experience human life.

The Son is true human. As the remnant of Israel, he is a true Israelite. As the remnant of humanity, he is fully the image of God authentically representing God in the world. He is what humanity was supposed to be from the beginning. Imaging God, Jesus knew no sin but fully embraced the mission of God in the world. His authentic walk with God did not arise out of a special humanity or a quality that was not available to others but arose out of his surrender to the leading of the Spirit in his life. Jesus had no advantage over other humans or otherwise his example is meaningless to us and his temptations were mock imitations of human fallenness. The difference between Jesus and others is that he surrendered while others, including myself, resist.

The Son is new human. Through death he became the fountainhead of a new humanity, a transformed and redeemed humanity. He is a new Adam, a second Adam, that leads a new humanity. We already experience this new humanity through the present gift of the indwelling Spirit but we anticipate the fullness of this new humanity in the future resurrection when body and spirit will be fully transformed into the likeness of the new human Jesus. The resurrected Jesus—in a transformed human body that has conquered death—is Life-giving Spirit to our bodies and souls which are thereby fitted for the new heaven and the new earth.

So What?

The Logos–the Son–follows humanity into their brokenness to heal them and lead them in their journey back to God.

The Son became one of us to be present within creation as a creature and unite creation to God. The Son’s union with creation through the flesh, through becoming a human being, sanctifies creation, redeems it, and communes with it. Becoming flesh, living in human skin, and being raised in a glorified but yet still human body bears witness to God’s intent to live in relationship with creation itself rather than simply relating to “spiritual” ghosts floating through the “spiritual” clouds. The incarnation is God’s testimony that–and means by which–God intends to unite creation with the divine community.

The Son became one of us in order to reveal God to us. The life of Jesus tells the story of how God would act as a human being. In Jesus we have a concrete example of who God is, how God behaves, and how God relates to people. We see God when we see Jesus. He embodies God so that we may know who God is. Jesus is the truth, God in the flesh. He is the life and the way; he is God available to the eyes, ears and touch. We know our God because we know Jesus.

The Son became one of us in order to experience and sympathize with our suffering. God within the transcendent experience does not know what it is like to be thirsty, hungry or to experience physical pain. God in Jesus, however, experienced all of these human frailties. Now God knows what it is like to be a human being. God is empathetic and sympathetic through Jesus because he shares our pain and temptations, sits on the mourner’s bench with us, and dies with us (as well as for us). God knows humiliation through Jesus; God knows the experience of fallenness. Our God fully knows us–cognitively but also existentially and experientially.

The Son became one of us in order to redeem us through the sacrifice of his own life. As the God-Human, Jesus is the mediator between God and Humanity. It his human life that was offered as an atonement for our sins, but he did so not as an act of human blood sacrifice but as an act of divine self-substitution. God became human so that God might engage the powers of evil and defeat them. God became human so that God might bear sin, take it up into the divine life and resolve the cosmic problem of mercy and justice–however that is resolved. God became human that we might have a representative at the right hand of the Father who is one of us.

Theologically, the incarnation means that there is a “personal divine absolute within history” (Lewis and Demarest, Integrative Theology, 286). The Logos actually entered history. There is not only an “Absolute beyond history, but as an Absolute in history” as well. He is the reference point for all truth from within history. He is the exegesis of God for humanity.

Fearless and Free during Economic Storms IV

Note: This is the second of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham, the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here. The first small group study lesson is here. John Mark presented the oral lesson on this topic,
“Living in Community,” Woodmont Hills Church of Christ, Nashville, TN (05/24/2009).

Living in Community

Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.       Luke 12:32-34

And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need.  Acts 2:44-45

And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.   Acts 4:33-35

I admit it; actually, I confess it–I find “sell your possessions, and give it to the needy” (Luke 12:33) a hard and difficult saying. Probably more than any other saying of Jesus—even “love your enemies”—I’m inclined to throw up my hands and say “I can’t do that.”

As an apprentice of Jesus, this deeply concerns me, challenges me, and drives me to my knees.

Selling for the Needy

Someone in that crowd to which Jesus said “sell your possessions” asked Jesus to adjudicate between himself and his brother over their inheritance. Jesus refused and pointed to their hearts–only they can act on the nature of their hearts. Life, Jesus said, “does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15).

Ok, I know that, but what does it mean? Well, it means that we don’t build bigger barns. This is the parable that Jesus told in response to this inquiry about inheritance. What do I do with the blessings God has given me? Do I build bigger barns so I can contain them, hoard them and consume them? Or, and I think this is Jesus’ stinging point, don’t build bigger barns. Instead, take your increase and give it to the poor.

Perhaps that is my starting place on my journey to obey “sell your possessions and give to the poor.” Perhaps I just need to start with the simple resolve to never build any more bigger barns and then take my increases and give them to the needy.

So, if you are troubled as I am by this saying to “sell your possessions and give to the needy,” perhaps we start by refusing to build “bigger barns.” We start with using our increase to bless the poor, and then perhaps we can begin downsizing and increasing our giving to the needy. I think God will honor that direction, but God will not honor the other option.

Communal Living

Living in community not only means sharing with the needy in the community, but also sharing the burden of being a community that serves the interests of the kingdom. When a community of disciples acts as a group to serve the world in a particular way, disciples share a common responsibility.

Being part of a community means we share responsibility for the ministries and needs of the community itself, including paying the bills. We don’t expect people outside the community to support those kingdom interests and neither should we expect the needy to fund the community. But membership in the community entails responsibility, and the use of the services, ministries and facilities of the community involves a responsibility to support the group’s efforts through funding.

Regular contributions that share the burden enable the community to continue its ministry within the church as well as to the needy and those outside of the community of faith. If we have received benefit from participation in the community, then ingratitude neglects to share with the community when we have resources to do so.

Communal living means living as a community in sharing our mutual burdens, including financial ones. This is a mark of the kingdom of God in the world—the people of God use their money for the sake of community and invite others into that community to experience the riches of God’s grace.

Questions for Discussion:

1. What attitudes or perspectives do you see in these Luke-Acts texts that empower the gracious sharing of resources by disciples of Jesus?
2. What is a contemporary equivalent to “selling our possessions” in terms of providing for the needy? What does that look like in our contemporary economic system where most think in terms of their income rather than their mortgaged property?
3. What experiences can you share with the group in terms of “selling your possessions” for the needy either as recipient or provider? In what ways have you seen disciples of Jesus live out this principle?
4. What does “living in community” as one who shares the benefits of a particular community (like Woodmont Hills) mean for regularly contributing to the needs of that community (e.g., paying for the electricity used, services rendered by staff, convenience of a building, etc.)?

Jesus of Nazareth: The Mission of God (SBD 10)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

Jesus accomplishes the divine mission to make all things new by reversing the curse.

Atonement, the at-one-ment, identifies God’s reconciling act that restores shalom between God and humanity. While there are many theories of atonement in history of theology, what follows is my four-fold classification that is partly based on a chart by Gabriel Fackre in his The Christian Story (1:133). These categories have the potential to see the whole of God’s atoning work rather than narrowly focusing on a specific dimension of that work.

Ultimately, however, the mystery of the atonement lies beyond the images and metaphors Scripture offers. The mysterious reality which lies behind the fact that “God was in Christ reconciling the world” (2 Corinthians 5:18) is beyond our finite minds. Theology, especially in this case, is ultimately doxological and the mystery generates wonder and awe for those who believe.

The Incarnation: Union of Divine and Human

While in the West with few exceptions theologians have focused on the death of Christ, the Eastern churches have stressed the incarnation as an atoning work without neglecting the passion and resurrection of Jesus. The significance of the incarnation for atonement is the union of God and humanity through the incarnation. By this act God reclaims the creation as something good and worth redeeming. God enfleshed testifies to the goodness of the flesh and that it is no barrier to God’s communion with humanity. This is one reason the Feast of Transfiguration is so significant in the East compared to the West.

Human beings, united to God through the incarnation, experience immortality and life in the resurrected and glorious (transfigured) body of Jesus. Materiality does not hinder the experience of life, even eternal life. Humans were designed—even in their materiality—for life with God. They were designed for theosis—a participation in divine communion within and despite their finitude.

The incarnation of Jesus means that God has recapitulated all of human life through the human life of Jesus from birth to death. God has renewed every aspect of human development and graced it with divine presence. Every aspect of human life has been made new again. The incarnation brings life as the eternal life of God has entered human history to enliven everyone. Life has begun again and this life has been united with the Eternal Life.

The Ministry: The Kingdom of God

The mission of Jesus is clearly articulated in Luke 4:18-19. His messianic mission is to bring “good news” (gospel) to the poor, prisoners, blind, and oppressed. It is not merely a message, but actions. God in Jesus acts to redeem. It is divine grace.

It is Jubilee! What Jubilee should have meant to Israel throughout its history breaks into the world through the ministry of Jesus. Jubilee–released prisoners, good news for the poor (e.g., debt release)–has arrived with the presence of the kingdom in the person of Jesus.

At the “big picture” level, this is the reversal of the “curse” (Revelation 21:5; the brokeness of the world). All that the curse means in the broken creation is reversed in the ministry of Jesus. It is his mission; it is why he was sent. It is what he preaches and what he does.

Luke 4:40-43 along with 4:18-19 are programmatic in Luke’s Gospel. It is the mission of Jesus to practice the kingdom of God. He heals the sick and declares the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. His ministry is the “good news of the kingdom of God,” that is, that the kingdom of God has come near and when the kingdom comes near the brokenness of the world is healed. The curse is reversed.

The “kingdom” here is not the structures and organization of an institutionalized church. Rather, the kingdom is the reign of God in the world; when God reigns the curse is overcome, when God reigns barriers are destroyed, when God reigns diseases are healed, demons bound and death destroyed, when God reigns people groups are reconciled, when God reigns the poor and oppressed get justice.

The ministry of Jesus is a proleptic enactment of the eschaton. In other words, the new heaven and new earth (where there is no curse) has broken into the fallen cosmos in a way that declares and promises the future. The ministry of Jesus is the presence of the future; the future breaks into the present as Jesus proclaims the good news of the kingdom and heals the sick. The ministry of Jesus is God’s promise of a different kind of world, a future world where there is no more curse.

The “good news” (gospel) of the “kingdom of God” is not, at this point in the ministry of Jesus, the death and resurrection of Jesus. In fact, the death and resurrection of Jesus is the means toward the end of the reality of the kingdom of God. That reality is “good news.” That God intends to redeem, renew, and restore the creation and community is good news. God inaugurates, implements and consumates the kingdom in the world through the incarnation, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus.

The Gospel of Luke calls disciples of Jesus to participate in the mission of Jesus (Luke 10:9, 18, 23b). Just as Jesus declared the message that the “kingdom of God is near” (which is the “good news of the kingdom”) and healed the sick (reversing the curse), his disciples follow him into the world to announce the nearness of the kingdom and to participate in curse reversal. Disciples proclaim the good news of the kingdom and heal the sick.

Healing the sick is but one instance of the presence of the kingdom. Doctors, nurses and medical professions are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they “heal the sick.” Environmental scientists are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they protect and preserve the environment. Educators are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they dispel ignorance and equip students for responsible living within the world. Social works are instruments of the kingdom of God even when they don’t know it as they work for social justice among the oppressed and neglected.

At bottom, disciples continue the ministry of Jesus. As instruments of the kingdom, they are a means by which God reigns in the world for peace, healing and reconciliation. Disciples participate in the mission of Jesus to reverse the curse as the kingdom of God grows and fills the earth.

The Death of Christ: Died For Our Sin

Christ died “for our sins” (Galatians 1:4) and Christ died “for us” (Romans 5:8; 2 Corinthians 5:15; Galatians 2:20; 3:13). The mystery of the atoning function of Christ’s death lies behind these two sentences. Four points, to my mind, may summarize the meaning of this confession.

First, God removed sin from people through Jesus Christ. The death of Jesus expiated sin. Sin is no longer a barrier between God and humanity. Having removed sin, God created a holy place in our hearts for the indwelling Spirit (Ephesians 2:18-22).

How did the death of Christ remove sin? Paul uses several metaphors. One is a commercial. God canceled the debt of sin. God nailed the debt to the cross. God canceled our certificate of indebtedness at the cross (Colossians 2:14-15). Another metaphor is legal. God no longer charges us with sin. The indictment has been revoked and we acquitted. God reconciles the world by not counting sin against us (2 Corinthians 5:19).

Yet, how can God declare the guilty “not guilty”? We need to say more.

Second, God identified with sinners in Jesus Christ. God came near, joined us in our fallenness, and identified with sinners. The holy God shared the shame, pain and death of this broken world. God’s first act of identification was the incarnation itself and was continually exhibited in the ministry of Jesus.

The cross, however, is the moment of God’s ultimate self-humiliation. There Jesus was “numbered among the transgressors” (Luke 22:37). There Jesus “became sin” for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). There he became a “curse” for us (Galatians 3:13). There he “bore our sins in his body” (1 Peter 2:24).

But what does it mean for Christ to identify with sinners? We need to say more.

Third, God substituted God for sinners in Jesus Christ. The cross is not fundamentally a human sacrifice. Jesus, as God in the flesh, sacrificed himself for humanity. God is the sbustitute. The Triune community itself experiences the hideousness of sin through the Godforsakenness of the crucified one. The Triune community offered its own life, community, and fellowship for the sake of reconciliation with the world they loved.

God deals with sin in Jesus Christ within the Triune community’s own life rather than externalizing that punishment. God experiences the torment of sin rather than inflicting that torment. The Lord of glory cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). The Triune community internalized the horror and punishment of sin rather than punishing humanity with eternal wrath. This is the love of God that sent the Son into the world as a “propitiation” for sin (1 John 4:10).

Why did God not just “forgive” without substitution? We need to say more.

Fourth, God satisfied God in Jesus Christ. We do not satisfy God. Only God can do it. God acts in character and with integrity (2 Timothy 2:13). God’s own faithfulness is God’s ground of action. Therefore, out of mercy and great love, God decided to justify the ungodly but in a just way. God determined to demonstrate justice in redeeming humanity while at the same time demonstrating love.

The cross is the moment of God’s self-satisfaction. God set forth Jesus Christ as the means of averting wrath (Romans 3:25-26). God’s own self-satisfaction was necessary if God was to remain both just and justifier. God’s work in Christ is a divine self-propitiation whereby the Triune community absorbs the eschatological wrath due us. God dealt with sin by taking it up into the Trinity’s own life where its power was destroyed. The Triune community sacrificed its own unbroken bliss so that broken people might join their communion and the broken cosmos receive healing.

I am not sure I can say much more.

The Resurrection of Jesus: Raised for Our Justification

Jesus was raised for “our justification” (Romans 4:25) so that we might be saved by “his life” (Romans 5:10; cf. 2 Corinthians 5:15). But first it was the justification of Jesus himself. When God raised Jesus from the dead the judgment of death (curse) was reversed and the just one vindicated. This is the “mystery of godliness” (1 Timothy 3:16). Death did not win. The resurrection of Jesus destroys death. His resurrection is our resurrection.

First, our resurrection with Jesus is the presence of God’s transforming Spirit. The life we now live is not our own–it is the resurrected life of Jesus (Romans 6:11; Galatians 2:20). We live in the power of the life-giving Spirit who has given us “new life” in Christ. The presence of the Spirit is God’s gift by which God transforms us into the image of Christ. Thus, the present experience of the transforming power of the Spirit bears fruit in us and is a foretaste of our full redemption by the power of the Spirit in the future resurrection (Romans 8:11-12).

Second, our resurrection with Jesus transforms our experience of death. Since God has defeated death, we no longer fear its hostile grip. Consequently, our experience of death is transformed from hopelessness, fear and despair into hope, expectation and anticipation. Though we no longer fear death we hate it as it defaces God’s good creation.

Third, our resurrection with Jesus in our “spiritual” bodies enables full communion with God in the eschaton. Since God has raised Christ with a “spiritual body,” we yearn for our spiritual bodies when we will experience the fullness of God’s Spirit in the new heaven and new earth. Indeed, the indwelling Spirit is our promise that we will be raised, and the power of the Spirit that now works in us to transform us into divine glory will transform our broken bodies into the glorious body of Jesus Christ (Romans 8:11; Philippians 3:21). Our present mortal, weak, and fallen bodies will be transformed into immortal, powerful, and glorious bodies. We will have “spiritual bodies,” that is, bodies energized and empowered by the full transforming presence of the Spirit of God (1 Corinthians 15:42-44).

The resurrection is God’s pledge to restore the world to its original goodness. God acted decisively to reverse the effects of Good Friday. The resurrection is God’s pledge of eschatological reversal in a new heaven and a new earth. The resurrection is new creation.

Conclusion

In Jesus Christ, God was incarnated among us to unite God with materiality, mediated the redemptive presence of the kingdom of God through ministry, suffered with us and for us, and was raised for us. Atonement is God’s work. The gospel is what God has done in Jesus Christ. We do not “do” the gospel. The gospel is God’s work of atonement whereby God reconciles us through faith. God is the actor and we are the receiver. God accomplishes redemption and we are saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8).

May 21 – A Shared Day of Pain with John and Maggy Dobbs

May 21, 2001 and May 21, 2008 have something in common. Those are the days on which our children died–my son Joshua and John & Maggy Dobbs’ son John Robert. The memories are painful and today we will each remember, commemorate and reflect.

I pray for peace for John & Maggy today, but I know it will come with great difficulty if at all. They will remember as they determine. I will remember today by going to the grave of my son, sitting in my chair and writing in my journal. It is a beautiful day today. While I usually resist visiting the grave, today I am drawn to it and see the blue skys as hopeful, life-giving and calming.

In memory of Joshua Mark Hicks and John Robert Dobbs, I am republishing a post from May 24, 2008 which expresses my own protest, pain and disillusionment after I learned of John Robert’s accident. It still rings true for me.

May the God of peace and comfort be with you all–the world is much too broken to live in it alone.

John Mark Hicks

Defending God

When a cyclone kills over 130,000 in Myanmar and an earthquake snuffs out the lives of 80,000 more in China, I have little interest in defending or justifying God.

When my son (Joshua Mark Hicks) dies of a genetic disorder after watching him slowly degenerate over ten years and I learn of the tragic death of a friend’s son (John Robert Dobbs)–both dying on the same date, May 21–I have little interest in defending or justifying God.

How could I possibly defend any of that? I suppose I could remove God from responsibility by disconnecting him from creation but I would then still have a God who decided to be a Deist. That’s no comfort–it renders God malevolent or at least disinterested. I would prefer to say God is involved and decides to permit (even cause–though I would have no way of knowing which is the case in any particular event) suffering. I would prefer to hold God responsible for the world he created and how the world proceeds.

I’m tired of defending God. Does God really need my feeble, finite, and fallible defensive arguments? Perhaps some need to hear a defense–maybe it would help, but I also know it is woefully inadequate at many levels. God does not need my defense as much as God needs to encounter people in their existential crises. My arguments will not make the difference; only God’s presence will.

I know the theodices and I have attempted them myself (see my old “rational” attempt which is on my General Articles page; I have also uploaded the companion piece on the Providence of God). A free-will theodicy does not help me with earthquakes, genetics and cyclones; it certainly does not explain why God does not answer the prayers of people with compassionate protection from such. A soul-making theodicy does not explain the quantity and quality of suffering in the world; suffering sometimes breaks souls rather than making them. There are other theodicies and combinations, but I find them all existentially inadequate (which is an academic understatement!) and rationally unsatisfying.

My theodic rationalizations have all shipwrecked on the rocks of experience in a hurting and painful world. My theodic mode of encounter with God in the midst of suffering is now protest.

Does God have a good reason for the pervasive and seemingly gratutious nature of suffering in the world? I hope God does–I even believe God does, but I don’t know what the reasons are nor do I know anyone who does. My hope is not the conclusion of a well-reasoned, solid inductive/deductive argument but is rather the desparate cry of the sufferer who trusts that the Creator has good intentions and purposes for creation.

Lament is not exactly a theodicy, but it is my response to suffering. It contains my complaint that God is not doing more (Psalm 74:11), my questions about “how long?” (Psalm 13:1), my demand to have my “Why?” questions answered (Psalm 44:24), and my disillusionment with God’s handling of the world (Job 21, 23-24). It is what I feel; it is my only “rational” response to suffering.

I realize that I am a lowly creature whose limitations should relativize my protest (as when God came to Job) though not minimize it. But, as with Job and the Psalmists, I continue to lament–I continue because I have divine permission to do so! Of all “people,” I must be honest with God, right? I recognize that my feeble laments cannot grasp the transcendent glory of the one who created the world and I realize that were God to speak God would say to me something of what he said to Job. But until God speaks….until God comforts…until God transforms the world, I will continue to speak, lament and protest.

But that response is itself insufficient. I protest, but I must also act.

As one who believes the story of Jesus, I trust that God intends to redeem, heal and renew the world. As a disciple of Jesus, I am committed to imitate his compassion for the hurting, participate in the healing, and sacrifice for redemption. I am, however, at this point an impatient disciple.

Does this mean that there are no comforting “words” for the sufferer? No, I think the story itself is a comfort; we have a story to tell but we must tell it without rationalizing or minimizing creation’s pain. We have a story to tell about God, Israel and Jesus. God loves us despite the seeming evidence to the contrary. God listens to our protests despite our anger and disillusionment. God empathizes with our suffering through the incarnation despite our sense that no one has suffered like we have. God reigns over his world despite the seeming chaos. God will defeat suffering and renew creation despite its current tragic reality. The story carries hope in its bosom and it is with hope that we grieve.

My love-hate relationship with God continues…I love (trust) him despite my unbelief. God, I believe-I trust; help my unbelief–heal my doubts. Give light to my eyes in the midst of the darkness.

May God have mercy.

The Holy Spirit: The Presence of the Coming Age (SBD 12)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The Holy Spirit, as the personal presence of God, is the active agent and earnest of our salvation.

The Spirit of God is present at the very beginning (Gen. 1:2), throughout the organic growth of the narrative, and in the climax, “The Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” (Rev. 22:17).

The Spirit and Trinity

The Spirit is characterized by divine attributes: omniscience (1 Corinthians 2:10); omnipotence (Micah 3:8); and omnipresence (Psalm 139:7-10). The Spirit participates in divine works: creation (Psalm 104:30); regeneration (John 3:5); resurrection (Rom. 8:11); and miracles (1 Corinthians 12:4-11). Just as the Father gives life (Romans 8:11), so the Spirit gives life (2 Corinthians 3:6). The Spirit is specifically identified in New Testament triune sayings (e.g., Matthew 28:19; 2 Corinthians 13:14; Ephesians 4:4-6).

Relational Ontology. The Spirit is God’s Spirit, the Spirit of God. Paul, for example, thinks of the Spirit primarily in terms of the Spirit’s relationship to God. God gives the Spirit (1 Thessalonians 4:8). But Paul also calls the Spirit the Spirit of Christ (Philippians 1:19; Romans 8:9). These genitives express relationship. Both God and Christ give identity to the Spirit–the Spirit is from God and is how Christ is present to believers in their hearts. While the Spirit of God is identical with the Spirit of Christ (which reflects Paul’s high Christology), the Spirit is not equated with the risen Lord. The Spirit and the Lord are distinct from each other (e.g., both intercede for us in Romans 8:26-27, 34). The Spirit is personally distinct from Christ though their functions are linked. The Spirit is the means by which Christ lives in us.

Some question the personality of the Spirit. There is no metaphor for the Spirit analogous to “Father” and “Son” which projects personhood. “Spirit” sounds impersonal. But the Spirit (though pneuma is grammatically neuter) is referenced in a personal gender (John 14:26; 15:26; 16:8, 13, 14, “that person”). The Spirit is “another parakletos” (John 14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). The absence of Jesus means the presence of another, one distinct from himself who has the same function. Thus, the disciples will not be left alone as if orphans. Rather, the Spirit is a personal representative of the Father and the Son.

Economic Trinity. The economic trinity is the role of the three persons in redemptive history. Each has a distinctive role: The Father elects, the Son is enfleshed, and the Spirit indwells. For example, in 1 Peter 1:2, the Father foreknows, the Son sheds blood and the Spirit sanctifies (cf. 2 Thessalonians 2:13-14). The Father plans and elects, the Son accomplishes redemption within history, and the Spirit applies that redemption in the hearts of believers.

The Spirit calls people to faith and convicts them of sin. The Spirit applies the reality of salvation to people. The Spirit works within the individual to produce the effects of salvation in their lives (“fruit of the Spirit,” Galatians 5) but also in the community as a whole. The Spirit completes the goal of glorification through the resurrection. As Gordon Fee suggests, the Spirit is the “soteriological experience of God” (Empowering Presence, 843) or the redemptive presence of God.

We may summarize the economic work of the Trinity in two sentences. First, whatever the Father does in the accomplishment of redemption, the Father does through the Son (Eph. 1:4-14). The Incarnate Son works the work of the Father in fulfillment of the mission of God. Second, whatever the Son does in the application of redemption, the Son does through the Spirit (Eph. 2:18-22). The Spirit is the means by which believers experience and encounter the Father through the Son.

Redemptive-Historical Structure: Divine Presence

Act One: Creation–Garden Presence. After six days of creating, God rested on the seventh day. This divine rest is not simple passivity. Rather, the rest is a kind of “resting in” or enjoying the creation. God delights (“it is very good”) in and dwells (walks in the Garden) with humanity in the good cosmos. The rest of God is the mutual enjoyment of God, humanity and the cosmos.

Act Two: Israel–Temple Presence. This is the place God chose to dwell in the Hebrew Scriptures. God dwells in the temple; God’s feet rest on the footstool of the Ark of the Covenant. This is a special presence which communes with Israel in relationship. Israel experienced this presence at the temple; there they entered the earthly sanctuary (dwelling-place) which was typological of the heavenly sanctuary. This is what I see in 2 Chronicles 6-7 and Leviticus 26:11-12, for example; or alluded to so often in the Psalms such as 63 or 132. This is a form of redemptive presence as God meets Israel at the temple for the sake of grace, mercy and forgiveness.

Act Three: Incarnational Presence (Logos in the flesh). This is the presence of God walking upon the earth. God dwelt among with humanity in the flesh rather than in a temple. This is what I see in Matthew 1–”God with us” (Immanuel) or in John 1 (“the Word became flesh and dwelt among us”). This is the climactic moment in that God becomes human. It is an eschatological moment in that it anticipates the future when God will fully dwell with humanity on a renewed earth (“new heavens and new earth”).

Act Four: Pneumatological Presence (Holy Spirit dwells in Christians). The Spirit dwells in the bodies of individual Christians and in the body of Christ as a community. This is another form of redemptive presence—it is the sanctifying presence of God who transforms us by divine presence. This is the presence of the Spirit on earth; our bodies are a divine sanctuary and the church community is the sanctuary of God upon the earth. Through the presence of the Spirit we commune with the Father and Son in our daily walk. Through the Spirit, Christ dwells in our hearts by faith and is always present with us. This is what I see in Matthew 28:20; 1 Corinthians 3 & 6. We are the temple of God through the Holy Spirit as God has come to dwell among us in fulfillment of the ancient promises (2 Corinthians 6:16 quoting Leviticus 26:11-12).

Act Five: Eschatological Presence (God dwells with Redeemed Humanity). This is when the new Jerusalem descends to the new earth. God–the Triune God–fully dwells with humanity upon the earth. There is no temple; there is no sanctuary. The whole earth is the dwelling-place of God. This is what I see in Rev. 21-22. The presence of the Triune God is restored to the earth but it is not merely a restoration. It is a glorification since what is mortal has now been transformed into immortality (resurrection). Act One is not repeated but consummated and a new phase of the same journey begins–a journey into the depth and riches of communion with God, with each other, and with the creation.

Ascension, Pentecost and the Pouring Out of the Spirit

The Promise. A redemptive-historical distinction is made in Luke 3:15-18 between the work of John the Baptist (baptism in water) and the work of Christ (baptism in the Spirit). The baptism of John was for the remission of sins, but it did not entail the full soteriological reality, that is, the presence of the Spirit.

The promise of the Spirit is part of the reality of the eschaton. It is the “already” of what we have “not yet” received. We receive it as partial down payment of the full eschatological reality. We participate in that reality through one baptism: water and Spirit are united to mediate that reality to us. It is the corporate experience of the people of God–we are a baptized people, in water and Spirit.

The Fulfillment. Pentecost is part the Christ Event—his ascension and reign (Acts 2:1-39). The Death-Resurrection-Ascension-Exaltation-Pouring are a single event, a whole tapestry. It is the resurrected, crucified one who ascended to the right hand of God and poured out the Spirit. The giving of the Spirit at Pentecost is the “first fruits” of the harvest.

This “pouring out” is broader than the miraculous empowerment of the apostles (cf. Titus 3:5-6). The Spirit is poured out and promised to all those who are immersed (Acts 2:38). Just as Jesus was given the Spirit as foundational to his ministry, so believers are given the Spirit as empowerment for ministry. Jesus poured out the Spirit upon all believers as part of the body of Christ. Baptism in the Spirit does not refer only to individualistic experiences of the Spirit, but to the once-for-all outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost for the church. We share in this reality when we are baptized into Christ (1 Corinthians 12:13).

The Principle. The exalted Lord is the life-giving Spirit (1 Corinthians 15:45; 2 Corinthians 3:17). There is a functional identification because Christ and the Spirit who applies the accomplished work of Christ. Christ is present through the Spirit in the lives of believers. As resurrected and ascended into heaven, he has become, in effect, “the Spirit” or “Life-giving Spirit.”

“Spiritual” refers to Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 2:10; 2 Corinthians 3:3). By virtue of his exaltation, as last Adam, the Exalted Jesus has come into such permanent and complete possession of the Spirit that the two are equated in their activity. They are one in the eschatological work of giving life to the church. This work of the Spirit (the Lord as Life-giving Spirit) is done presently through inner renewal, but will ultimately glorify us through resurrection (2 Corinthians 4:14-5:10). Thus, the presence of the Spirit is the presence of Christ (cf. John 14:12-23). The presence of the Spirit is what renders us “spiritual,” that is, guided, oriented by and living in the Spirit. The life we live is the life of the resurrected Christ through the Spirit.

The giving of the Spirit hinges on the work of Christ (John 7:39). It is a redemptive-historical event—something previously not done. It is a watershed event in the history of redemption. It is the source of life in the believer. Our life is the life of the Spirit who mediates to us the power of the resurrected and exalted life of Christ. (In the above section I am indebted to my former professor Richard Gaffin for his insights.)

The Function of the Spirit

The Spirit as Indwelling Presence. The Spirit is the one by whom we commune with God. God dwells among us through the Spirit. The presence of the Holy Spirit is the witness to our redemption and we find this redemption in the community of God where God dwells through the Spirit. We are not destitute of the personal presence of God. Just as God was personally present in the incarnation through Jesus, so God is personally present in the church through the indwelling Holy Spirit. Consequently, we are the temple of God. The Holy One dwells in our midst as an earnest of our future dwelling with God in the new heaven and the new earth.

The Spirit as Transforming Empowerment. There are three levels at which we may speak of this transformation: (1) Regeneration; (2) Sanctification; and (3) Glorification.

Regeneration is the work of the Spirit that inaugurates our salvation. It is a rebirth of our fallen nature out of the Spirit of God. Human nature is newly created—a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:7) and Spiritual power is introduced into our lives. This principle of life engages the flesh in a power struggle. Regeneration is human nature reborn according to the power of the Spirit rather than human nature born in the flesh (sarx).

Sanctification is the progressive work of the Spirit in the life of the believer (1 Peter 1:2; 1 Thessalonians 4:3-8; 2 Thessalonians 2:13). It is a process of renewal and metamorphosis. The inner person is daily renewed (2 Corinthians 4:15-16) and the Spirit strengthens the inner person (Ephesians 3:17-18) as we more and more approximate the image of Christ. The fruits of the Spirit are movements toward the image of Christ in sanctification (Galatians 5).

Glorification completes our salvation as we are resurrected by the power of the Spirit (Romans 8:11). The final glory is the resurrection (redemption) of the body. This resurrection is Christological in nature as we are conformed to the image of Christ, even in his body. This is the final transformation (Philippians 3:21). We are conformed to that image by the power of the Spirit. The Spirit will animate our resurrected bodies (1 Corinthians 15).

The Spirit as Gifter. The Spirit distributes the gifts of God. Everyone is given a “manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7). God gives gifts “through the Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:6). These gifts range from gifts of mercy, teaching, leadership, generosity (Romans 12:3-8) to wisdom, knowledge, healings, miracles, prophecy and tongues (1 Corinthians 12:8-10). Neither of these lists are exhaustive but illustrative of God’s work within the community of faith for the sake of the body and the world. The same Spirit disperses a diversity of gifts (1 Corinthians 12:11).

So What?

The Spirit of God is the presence of God throughout creation. God has not abandoned the cosmos. The Spirit who was present at creation is present in all corners of the earth even now. The Spirit—the presence in which humans live, move and their being—is working common grace throughout the creation and within history.

The Spirit of God is also a redemptive presence among the people of God through whom they commune with and experience the personal reality of God. The Spirit is the personal, existential connection between God and humanity. The personal indwelling of the Spirit is the experience of God in our hearts whereby we cry “Abba, Father.” The Father and Son come to dwell us through the presence of the Spirit.

The Holy Spirit is the power of our transformation into the image of Christ. The Spirit is present to empower, strengthen, and sanctify. The Spirit bears the fruit of love, peace and joy in our lives. The Spirit comforts us in our inner persons. The Spirit empowers forgiveness and release from resentment. The Spirit is an enabling presence for our transformation.

The Holy Spirit empowers our ministry as the Spirit gifts each of us for service in our faith communities as well as in the world. The Spirit equips for the “common good”—for communities of faith, for human society and for creation. We seek these gifts through prayer, discipleship and mentoring relationships.

Providence and Suffering: Can God Be Trusted? (SBD 11)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

Defending God is not my job. Good thing because I would be awful at it. However, my faith does seek understanding; it looks for answers even when I cannot find them. Exploring the mysteries of divine providence and human suffering is a journey into the recesses of the divine mind and most of it is inaccessible to humans. So, the real question of providence and evil is not can we explain it but can God be trusted with the answer even when that answer is inexplicable or incomprehensible to us or when our best efforts ultimately just don’t make sense. I think the answer to that question is “Yes”.

Providence—A Metaphor

Traditional Language. Providence (God’s provision for the creation as one who “sees ahead”) is traditionally encompassed under three headings: conservatio (conservation or preservation), concursus (concurrentism), and telos (governance toward an end or goal). The first and third are the least controversial in the history of theology. The first affirms that God sustains the creation by divine power. The cosmos is not self-sustaining but is dependent upon the action of God (cf. Hebrews 1:3; Isaiah 42:5). This sustenance includes God’s preservation of human meaning and purpose within the creation. The third affirms that human history and the creation are moving toward a divinely appointed goal (Isaiah 41:20; 43:10; 45:3; 46:10). God so governs history and creation—through whatever means, including natural agencies—that God orders their movements to secure the ends of the divine telos.

The most controversial is concurrentism (concursus). This affirms that divine and human actions (or nature, if a natural phenomenon) are concurrent in every event within the world. In other words, God is always working within every event, and each event is some kind of cooperative effort between God and the creation. God, therefore, is always a cause that works through or alongside other causes both human and natural. Consequently, nothing happens in the world in which God is not somehow involved and where God does not intend that something specific happen. In every event God acts alongside his creatures to accomplish specific goals, even if God’s goal is different from other actors in the drama. For example, whereas a human being may intend evil, God may, through that same event, intend good as in the case of Joseph in Egypt (Genesis 50:20; cf. Isaiah 45:1, 7, 12-13). As a result, God and human agents worked concurrently to produce the event, but with different intentions and ultimately with the divine telos accomplished.

A Game Metaphor. If we imagine that the comos is a field sport (like football or soccer), a broad typology for Providence emerges. In a Deistic theology, God is a mere spectator even though God is also owner and inventor (e.g., Langdon Gilkey). In some versions of postmodernism personalism, God is more like a coach who encourages and directs from the sidelines but does not participate in the field action (e.g., Rabbi Kushner). In more traditional models, God is an owner-player-coach who is actively participating in the game on the field.

Within the traditional framework, we can extend the game analogy to distinguish three further typologies. For some, such as Reformed theology, the game is determined by the owner’s decrees as to how each play will unfold, who will score and which players will win or lose (e.g., Ulrich Zwingli). Reformed theologians, generally, embrace concurrentism but maintain that God is the primary, determinative cause though God also uses real secondary causes (human will or nature; cf. Paul Helm). Thus, every choice that human beings make—whether good or evil–is “already predetermined” (G. I. Williamson, The Shorter Catechism, 1:26-27). To be fair, there are “harder” and “softer” versions among Reformed theologians and some of the “softer” versions are barely—yet still—distinguishable from Classic Arminianism.

For others, such as Free Will theism (or Open Theism), God serves more as an emergency substitute who occasionally intervenes but rarely (e.g., John Sanders). Free Will theists reject concurrentism as do some Arminians (e.g., Jack Cottrell) even though they do not necessarily agree with particular dimensions of Open Theism (e.g., their rejection of traditional omniscience).

“Classic Arminianism” affirms that God is always on the field, active in every play, and directing the game toward its telos (e.g., Robert E. Picirilli). This is would amount to a strong concurrentism without determinism (or compatibilism). Others, less “classic,” would only suggest that nothing happened on the field without specific divine permission even if God was not actively on the field (e.g., Jack Cottrell).

A Concurrentist Providential Theology. Arminian concurrentism suggests that God, as player, is synergistically creating the future with the creation itself. God, as owner and coach, is the ultimate reality in the universe and sovereignly directs the game toward the divine telos. God, then, acts within the creation to secure the divine telos but acts in concert with or concurrent with the created reality. The sovereign God permits players to act—indeed, gives them a moral agency out of which they freely act—but they do not act autonomously as if their freedom is absolute since their freedom is circumscribed by the divine purpose. This divine permission, which empowers other players (both human and natural), is both specific and self-limiting, but it is not impotent. The divine purpose will not be frustrated. Nevertheless, the freedom of creation is an authentic divine gift and undetermined by divine decrees.

The critical question, then, is the nature of the divine purpose or telos. Since God’s ontology is relational (Triune) and God’s identity is holy love, the divine purpose is communion with the creation in a way consistent with God’s own nature to love in freedom. The praise of God’s glory is located in communion with the good creation who loves in freedom just as God does. God sustains history, acts in history, and governs that history toward that telos. God will accomplish the divine purpose while at the same time sustaining the freedom of the creation because God values the authenticity of loving communion.

Suffering—A Problem

Whence Evil and Why? Ultimately, I don’t know. Mystery acknowledges that our finite understanding cannot fathom the purpose and meaning of divine acts or permission. This incomprehensibility does not undermine faith since “for Christians,” as Marilyn McCord Adams has written, “as for others in this life, the fact of evil is a mystery. The answer is a more wonderful mystery—God” (Rationality, Religious Belief, and Moral Commitment, 267).

The Biblical narrative itself raises the question “why?” The particularities of suffering are not answered by a poetic Psalm, a prophetic oracle, a Jesus sermon or a Pauline letter. Instead, the question “Why?” reverberates throughout the narrative on the lips of believers from Moses (Exodus 5:22) to the Psalmists (10:1; 42:9; 44:23-24; 74:1; 88:14) to Job (3:20; 7:10; 10:18; 13:24) to the prophets (Jeremiah 14:19; Lamentations 5:20) to Jesus (Matthew 27:46).

Philosophers have attempted many strategies to answer the question without much success though some perspective has been gained. For example, Free Will Theodicists claim that God created a world with the possibility of evil and has a good reason for doing so (e.g., a world of free beings is better than a world of coerced ones or no morally significant beings at all). The Free Will Defense argues that free will means that God can not guarantee the absence of evil once God decided to create beings with free will (Alvin Plantinga). But this, even if successful, does not begin to answer the “why” questions that consume so many (e.g., tornadoes, tsunamis, etc.).

The Soul-Making theodicists argue that the process of maturing human beings involves a refining fire. Suffering is a necessary condition for the maturation of human beings. It claims that there is good(s) that is worth the existence of evil (John Hick; Austin Farrar; Thomas B. Warren). But this does not explain the quantity, quality and intensity of the evil present in the cosmos, and it often assumes a Deistic understanding of how God relates to the world.

Natural Law theodicists (Bruce Reichenbach; Richard Swinburne) argue that natural law establishes cosmic parameters in which freedom can be deliberately exercised. Natural law enables predictability for choices, but that predictability entails natural “evil” as those laws function independently of human or divine choices (Bruce Reichenbach; Richard Swinburne). But this distances the Creator from the creation as if nature has autonomy and it does not explain why God does not sometimes—particularly in major catastrophes—intervene. Surely God would make some exceptions.

The Christian Metanarrative. But the Christian narrative does not leave us totally in the dark as if we were wholly blind though the light is dim due to our finitude, feebleness, fallibility and fallenness.

The story, as I read it, begins with the divine intent to share the Triune love in communion with creation and ends with the divine purpose fulfilled. This loving communion entails a freedom to love that is rooted in our relational ontology that images God’s own love. Yet, the risk of love entails the possibility of hate and thus rejection. Humans have consistently chosen to reject God’s love. This is a part of the evil in the cosmos.

God, in response, pursues us with an unrelenting love and sometimes a “tough love.” God, the Psalmist declared, does whatever God pleases (Psalm 115:3). Humans have no concept of the radical nature of evil until they see it or experience it. Human history, unfortunately, is strewn with examples and God—as the biblical narrative tells it—has unreleased the evil human heart in order to allow evil to fully reveal itself and permitted natural chaos to refine humanity.

God is willing to use “tough love” to remind humanity of their relationship to the Creator and move them toward embracing the divine purposes for human existence. Ultimately, as I once learned from Philip Yancey through his reflections on Job, God is more interested in our faith (loving communion) than in our pleasure (in the way broken humans think about happiness).

The Purposes of Suffering in the Story. One size does not fit all in the biblical narrative. There are multiple purposes for suffering; some overlap, some are distinct. Some apply to one, and sometimes none seemingly apply. These purposes certainly do not dictate how we should view our own experience of suffering though some may apply as we interpret our situations. Nevertheless, they are present in the story as lights to guide us in our reflections on suffering.

In particular, the story unveils—as I see it—these purposes (and my list is not exhaustive): (1) punishment and deterrence (Amos 3:6); (2) cosmic and/or personal testing (Job 23:10; Genesis 22:1); (3) pedagogical discipline (Hebrews 12:7) like a refining fire; (4) gifting and equipping for ministry (2 Corinthians 1:3-7); and (5) painful but redemptive experiences for the sake of others (Genesis 45:7-8; 50:20).

Living within the Story

Living within the story means seeing ourselves as part of the biblical theodrama. We are players on the field and actors in the drama, but we did not create the game or write the play. God lovingly calls us to participate in the story and see the world through the lens of divine intent, actions and goal. Living within the story is ultimately faith seeking understanding.

In relation to the problem of suffering, we will have to decide whether we trust (believe) because we have resolved our cognitive (rational) and existential (personal suffering) difficulties or whether faith is the mode in which we seek understanding. Is there reason to trust? Can God be trusted?

This is where Christology functions in my theodicy. Christology provides the ground for trusting God even in the darkness of our suffering. We have reason to trust because we hear and see the “good news of the kingdom” enacted in the ministry of Jesus. We have reason to trust because we see the love of God demonstrated in the cross of Jesus. We have reason to trust because we see the victory of God over death in the resurrection of Jesus.

The incarnation reveals both divine intent and divine love. God seeks communion with humanity by uniting God and humanity in Jesus. The love of God shines through the empathy that God shares with humanity. God’s incarnational involvement in the world to redeem, restore and heal through suffering is a testimony to God’s ultimately redemptive relationship to suffering. God will resolve the problem of suffering in a renewed and restored creation free from mourning, death and pain. This is the “eschatological verification” of God’s project (John Hick).

So What?

While the mystery of evil is disconcerting and generates questions, the denial of God seems to create more questions, problems and conundrums. To choose the mystery of God over the mystery of evil is neither dishonest nor irrational. For example, apart from God, what grounds ethics so that “evil” is something more than personal or social taste? Can we speak of “evil” without God? In other words, does naturalistic intuitionism justify/define good without recourse to some more fundamental religious intuition? The existence of objective evil means there is some ground for why evil is evil. Again, as another example, is there a religious intuition (encounter) for which the denial is more problematic than the problem of evil?

The mystery of evil emerges within the biblical narrative through the practice of lament which contains protest, complaint and questioning doubt. Lament can be a faith-filled response for people living within the story. Lament—even angry complaint against God (Job 7:11-21)—should not be discouraged. It is an expression of faith as it addresses God as the one responsible for the cosmos.

The mystery of providence means that God is at work in the creation to move the world towards the divine telos. God uses various means to accomplish this goal, including human freedom, natural events, nation states, etc. God’s actions—and human actions concurrently working to co-create the future with God—have meaning. We do not always know nor see the meaning, but the sovereignty of God gives meaning to everything within the creation.

Ultimately, we don’t know, but God does and God cares. Ultimately, we don’t understand, but God has reasons. I have reason to trust the God of Israel and Jesus. Therefore, despite my pain, hurt and suffering, I will continue to trust the Creator who loves me more than I love myself.

Further Reading

Anthologies:

Michael L. Peterson, ed., The Problem of Evil: Selected Readings (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992).

William L. Rowe, ed., God and the Problem of Evil (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishers, 2001).

Steven Davis, ed., Encountering Evil: Live Options in Theodicy (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981).

Marilyn McCord Adams, ed., The Problem of Evil (New York: Oxford University, 1991).

Classic Modern Theodicies or Defenses

John Hick, Evil and the God of Love (New York: Harper & Row, 1966).

Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (New York: Harper & Row, 1974).

Austin Farrer, Love Almighty and Ills Unlimited (Garden City, NY: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1961).

Richard Swinburne, Providence and the Problem of Evil (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

Bruce Reichenbach, Evil and a Good God (New York: Fordham University, 1982).

Taking a Sabbath from Posting

Readers,

I appreciate your continued interest in my posts. I have enjoyed posting on my course in “Systematic Biblical Doctrine.” But, unfortunately, I must pause that series for a time.

I have encountered some sickness in the family, begun to grade papers, finishing an online course as well, and preparing for a two week vacation (May 29-June 14).

Consequently, I have found it necessary to “rest” from blogging for a while. I will return sometime after June 15 and complete the systematic series. I have four more to write: (1) soteriology; (2) ecclesiology; (3) sacraments; and (4) eschatology. After that, I want to return to more historical interests within the Stone-Campbell Movement.

Until then, my friends, enjoy your vacation from John Mark Hicks–or at least your vacation from any new posts!

Recreating and Reading

My wife and I returned refreshed and renewed from our lengthy vacation. We visited family and then cruised the beautiful waters of the Caribbean. The generous folk of the Sycamore View Church of Christ had given us a travel voucher from AAA in appreciation for our ministry with the church in 2007. We finally used it, and it was truly renewing.

My favorite part of cruising, other than sharing time and places with my wife, was reading on the deck of the ship with the Atlantic in front of me, my wife beside me, and shaded sunlight beaming around us while feeling the gentle breeze of God’s creation. That setting could make even a bad book tolerable.

So, what did I read? Here is one…and I will tell you about others in future posts.

Roger Olson, Finding God in the Shack: Seeking Truth in a Story of Evil and Redemption. It is, of course, no substitute for reading The Shack, but it is a sympathetic reflection on the theological themes present in Paul Young’s modern parable. While I have already blogged at length on the novel (the first in my pastoral series is here and the first in my theological review is here), I read this book for several reasons. First, I am speaking on The Shack for three different venues in June and July (a bible class at Woodmont Hills [beginning this Sunday], a Wednesday night series at Harpeth Hills [beginning this Wednesday], and at the Lipscomb Summer Lectures on July 2-3). So, it was a way of reminding myself of some themes and hearing another perspective. Second, I respect Olson’s scholarship in historical theology (especially since he often cited my dissertation on Arminius in his recent book on Arminianism) and consequently I thought I would receive a balanced, thoughtful assessment of The Shack (which I did).

There was much I liked about the book, but I was also somewhat (mildly) disappointed.  Olson reviews The Shack positively. He does not think Young’s parable is heretical in relation to the Great Tradition of the church (the ecumenical councils), though he recognizes that many of its points would be heretical within some denominational traditions (e.g., Reformed theology)–and even Olson’s own writings have been regarded as heretical by some on some of the same points that The Shack would be condemend (e.g., human freedom).  If Olson is critical of The Shack‘s theology, it is on issues like prevenient grace, regeneration, ambiguous atonement theology and ecclesiology.   But his criticisms are rather mild.

My disappointment, however, was with the ahistorical reading of the novel, that is, there was no consideration of Young’s own purpose, background or metaphors for his journey. There was little recognition that the “shack” functions as a metaphor for the woundness of one’s life and the journey of recovery toward healing.

I understand that a novel may stand alone without an author’s background providing the hermeneutical frame for reading it, but this publication gives us hints and clear clues that we should read this novel within the frame of Young’s own life.  For example, it was written for his children so that they could understand how his vision of God had changed through his redemption as a fallen minister. The acknowledgements at the end reveal that the “shack” is a metaphor for the soul’s woundness. Indeed, in Young’s own life, the “shack” is his own murdered childhood (Missy).

If we don’t understand that, then we will misread the intent of the parable. While Olson recognizes that the novel is not a “systematic theology,” he does tend to read it through the lens of a discipleship manual or, as he put it, “trusting God, following Jesus and being transformed” (p. 123). But this misses the point, I think. The Shack is about Young’s recovery journey, about his own redemption, through an encounter with God that is telescoped into two-day dream. It is not a discipleship manual, nor an ecclesiology, nor a systematic theology. It is an expanded parable of a Jobian prodigal son who returns to discover the Father’s love. I think Olson misses the metaphor and thus the real impact of the redemptive story Young narrates, especially about Young’s own life.

Another example of this is how one perceives the ending. For some, as it was for Olson, it was “all sweetness and light” (pp. 129ff). Though recognizing the parallel with Job, the “happy ending” is off-putting because it is disconnected from the reality of Young’s own personal recovery. His children recognize their father’s “happy ending”–it is his real story. His vision (the way he thinks about God, relates to God and experiences God) changed his life and God recovered him for ministry through this novel. It is not everyone’s “ending,” but it is Young’s.

Despite this, however, Olson’s book is a light (too much so perhaps for my tastes) review of The Shack‘s theology in the light of biblical and historical concerns as well as existential realities. He reflects on the themes through Scripture but also in the light of historical theology. He recognizes the criticisms of the book–yields to a few of them (very few), but ultimately recommends the book as a way of walking through significant themes that daily challenge believers.  I would recommend Olson’s book as a healthy interaction with Young’s novel.

Soteriology: Union with Christ (SBD 13)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The Father elects, redeems and saves in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. Union with Christ is the umbrella expression for the totality of our salvation. This union involves all aspects of our salvation. The wisdom of God—Jesus Christ in whom God is reconciling the world—is our righteousness, holiness and redemption (1 Corinthians 1:30).

This union with Christ is both redemptive-historical and spiritual-mystical. Christ’s work is for us and with us as he identified with us through incarnation, ministry, death and resurrection. Through the election of the Father, we are united to Christ in his death and resurrection so that his death and resurrection become ours. At the same time our union with Christ is effected through the Spirit of God so that we constitute the living body of Christ. We are the embodiment of Jesus in the world as the divine presence resides in us through the indwelling Spirit. We participate in the reality of God’s kingdom through the Spirit of Christ who empowers us to be like Christ. United with Christ redemptively and pneumatically, we embody the presence of Jesus in the world for the sake of the world. Redeemed in Christ, we become the presence of Christ in the world.

The Scope of Salvation

Soteriology is individual, communal and cosmic.

Western and Evangelical Christianity have generally focused on the individual aspects of salvation, that is, “God saved me and Christ would have died for me even if I had been the only one who needed it.” Evangelical theology, consequently, has often stressed individual assurance, justification by faith and personal holiness. This emphasis has generally been linked to “going to heaven when I die” such that salvation has sometimes been reduced to the forgiveness of sin and going to heaven.

Surely God saves individuals—God saves indivdiual people. God saves me. God’s Spirit dwells in each of our bodies, calls each one of us to personal holiness and the personal presence of the Spirit empowers each of us. God works in and through individuals and relates to us as individuals. There is such a thing as a “personal” relationship with God—there is communion between God and individuals. Soteriology does not undermine our individuality though it does not sanction our individualism.

At the same time God saves a people and gathers a people together. God—the relational, communal reality of Father, Son and Spirit—created a community (male and female), redeems a community and will glorify a people. The Father called a people into existence named Israel and even now renews that same people by uniting Jew and Gentile into one people of God. Soteriology includes ecclesiology. The church, ultimately glorified in the kingdom, is the object of God’s saving work.

Even further, however, God not only saves individuals in community with others (ecclesiology) but also intends to redeem the whole creation. The telos of God is to reorder the cosmos under the headship of Jesus the Messiah (Ephesians 1:10) and reconcile everything in heaven and on earth to God through Christ (Colossians 1:20). God will redeem the creation itself as well as a people (Romans 8:18-26).

Ultimately, salvation is not about me, or us, or the creation. It is to the praise and glory of God the Father who elects a people in Christ to become the living presence of God in the creation by the power of the Spirit. This is the glory of God, that is, to rest with a redeemed people in a redeemed creation.

The Temporal Dimensions of Salvation

Applied soteriology is past, present and future in the lives of believers. Believers have already been saved, are in the process of being saved, and will yet be saved. This is exactly how Paul uses the terms “save” or “salvation” in his letters. Salvation is something already accomplished (Romans 8:24; Ephesians 2:5, 8; Titus 3:5)—it is something that happened in their own existential past. Salvation is also something yet to be experienced in the future (Romans 5:9-10; 13:11; 1 Thessalonians 5:8-9; 2 Timothy 2:10)—we will be saved in the future. Salvation is also a process which we currently experience; it is a refining fire and pleasing smell (2 Corinthians 2:15)—we are in the process of being saved.

This redemptive-historical soteriological structure is illustrated in Romans 6:22:

But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.

In the past God freed us from sin and enslaved us to righteousness—we have been freed (justified) from sin (Romans 6:7). Yet this saving reality continues in the present as we move toward holiness (sanctification) which is the fruit of having been set free from the guilt and power of sin. Further, our goal (end, telos) is eternal life (glorification). This single verse—and we can find this emphasis in many other places in Paul—summarizes the past-present-future soteriological structure of Pauline theology. Those who have been justified (set free) presently seek holiness (sanctification) in view of the goal of eternal life (glorification).

Systematic theologians, especially Protestant ones, have generally summarized the past, present and future dimensions of salvation with the technical terms “justification” (past), “sanctification” (present), and “glorification” (future). This language is helpful as long as the temporal qualifier remains the significant point. The language is problematic when a term is strictly identified with a particular aspect of salvation (e.g., when justification becomes the essence of soteriology) or when biblical texts are made to conform to the theological language (e.g., when “righteousness” is forced into the mold of technical meaning of justification in texts like Acts 10:35).

In fact, Paul uses the language of “justified” or “righteousness” (justification) to refer to past, present and future soteriological realities. He does not limit “justification” (righteousness) to a past forensic declaration though he often refers to justification as a past event in the life of the believer (Romans 3:24; 5:1, 9). Rather, he calls believers to “pursue righteousness” (Romans 5:13, 16, 18, 19) in the present as obedient slaves of God. And, further, we will yet be justified in the future (Romans 2:6-10, 13) as we live even now in the “hope of righteousness” (Galatians 5:5).

Paul’s soteriological language is rich with diversity as his language is not rigidly tied to temporal location. Sanctification (holiness) is also past (1 Corinthians 6:11—sometimes called definitive or positional sanctification), present (1 Thessalonians 4:3—sometimes called progressive sanctification) and future (1 Thessalonians 5:23—sometimes called entire sanctification). Glorification is both present (2 Corinthians 3:18) and future (Romans 8:17). And we could do the same with other language such as liberation, redemption or spiritual. The point is that soteriology is comprehensive—it encompasses past, present and future. To limit salvation to one temporal aspect is reductionistic.

Soteriology as Definitive and Participatory

Union with Christ is not only about the event of forgiveness but the process of participating in the life of Christ. Soteriology, then, is both declarative and participatory.

God saved through a declarative act but also saves through our participation in the life to which God calls us. We are declared “in the right” (acquitted) by a divine act of righteous imputation in what theologians have historically called “justification” (or definitive sanctification) but we also pursue and become righteous through participation in the holiness of God in what theologians have historically called “sanctification” (or progressive sanctification or impartation of righteousness).

The definitive is a divine act which we receive by faith, but we participate in the reality of the definitive act through becoming what we have been declared to be in the righteous act of God. The definitive is what some call the indicative—it declares what God has done and stresses the saving act of God. God justifies, sanctifies and glorifies. The participatory is what some call the imperative—it calls us to live out the indicative in our personal lives, community and creation. Significantly, the indicative grounds and empowers the imperative.

This relationship between the indicative and imperative is common in Paul. Since we live in the Spirit, let us keep step with the Spirit (Galatians 5:25). Since God has demonstrated mercy toward us, let us be transformed by God rather then conformed to the world (Romans 12:1-2). Let us work out our salvation with fear and trembling because it is God who is at work in us (Philippians 2:12-13).

Believers do not simply receive the declaration of God’s justifying righteousness; they also pursue righteousness in order to become the righteousness of God (that is, the embodiment of God’s faithfulness in the world).

Believers are both passive and active in their salvation. They passively receive God’s justifying declaration through a living faith as beggars with an open hand, but they also actively pursue righteousness (holiness, sanctifiction) by a faith that works through love (Galatians 5:5-6) while at the same time passively receiving the empowerment (indicative) of the Spirit that enables faithful works of love.

While I think Paul maintains this balance in clear ways, many have stressed the Pauline definitive to the virtual loss of the participatory. If Western theology (especially Evangelicalism) had focused on the Gospels rather than Paul, perhaps the stress would lie on participation rather than definitiveness (as much of the Eastern church does in their concept of theosis). The call to discipleship in the kingdom of God in the Gospels emphasizes the participatory—we actively follow Jesus.

But it is not an either/or. Rather, it is a both/and. Salvation is both definitive and participatory. We accept God’s declaration by faith and we participate in God’s transforming work by pursuing righteousness, practicing kingdom life, and following Jesus. In this way we are both “justified by faith”—declared “in the right” by God’s righteous act in Jesus, and “justified by works” (doers of the law, Romans 2:13)—experience transformation through empowered right-living. The works (our “sanctification” and conformation to the image of Christ empowered by the Spirit of God) evidence our declaration (“justification”), embody our Christ-likeness, and bear witness to the reality of God’s kingdom in the world. By faith we are “in the right” (justified) and through good works (sanctification) we become what God has declared us to be.

We are declared “in the right” because we are united with Christ. United with Christ, we participate in the life of Christ as we become partakers of the divine nature (theosis). The theological goal of sanctification—our “entire sanctification” or glorification—is conformation to the image of God in Christ. We will become fully—in body and soul—like Christ in our future sanctification (resurrection).

The Triune Ground of Salvation

Faith is the means of justification, sanctification and glorification—to use Systematic Theology’s technical terms. In justification, faith receives God’s extrinsic declaration. In sanctification, faith participates in the life of Christ through works—faith works through love (Galatians 5:6). In glorification, faith hopes in the future to come and believers—those who have persevered in faith—will experience the fullness of God’s redemption.

But lying behind the imperative to believe (trust) is the ground of the divine indicative. The Father has justified us, continues to sanctify us and will glorify us. The faithfulness of the Son grounds our justification, models our sanctification and establishes glorified humanity. The Spirit generates faith in us, transforms us and will animate our bodies in the new heaven and new earth.

We are saved (justification) by grace (ground) through faith (means) unto good works (sanctification). This is God’s telos. God intends to redeem a people who will live as divine images (representatives) within the creation for the sake of the world and rest in God’s gracious, communing shalom.

So What?

Salvation, then, is about the present and the future. It is not only about living in the new heaven and new earth, but about rescue from the powers of darkness in the present evil age. Salvation is apocalyptic, that is, it redeems a people as part of the new age while still living in the old age. It is a new order within the old order—it is the kingdom of God present in the world.

Salvation, therefore, is not only about a personal decision for Jesus (e.g., a decision to follow Jesus into the water) and forgiveness, but it is also about discipleship and apprenticeship into the ministry of Jesus as a participant in the kingdom of God.

The saving work of God not only forgives but transforms. We are not only saved from sin but saved for good works (sanctification). The saving work of God not only prepares us for the new heaven and new earth but works through kingdom people in the present for the reclamation of the whole creation (both human and cosmic) for the kingdom of God. This work by God through the people of God not only involves proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but practicing the good news of the kingdom through reversing the curse.

The saving work of God manifests itself not only in believers assured of their forgiveness but in believers who proclaim the gospel and embody the good news of Jesus through “good works” (e.g., social justice, healing, benevolence, ecology, etc.). The church is the community of God that both proclaims the good news of the kingdom and practices it.

Wright on Justification

N. T. Wright’s new book, Justification: God’s Plan & Paul’s Vision, is primarily a response to John Piper’s The Future of Justification: A Response to N. T. Wright though he engages others as well (e.g., Westerholm). For another extended review of Piper’s book, sympathetic to Wright, see Trevin Wax’s interaction with the book as well as his interview with Wright. 

Reformed theologians and scholars are disturbed by Wright’s defense of the New Perspective on Paul (NPP) and his, as they see it, rejection of the Reformation doctrine of justification by faith alone. Guy Waters, of Reformed Theological Seminary, has written a fair-minded and on point review of Wright’s new book.  If you want to read a good Reformed response to Wright, I think that is a good place to start.

I have no desire to pursue a point by point discussion in this post. Rather, I simply want to offer my thoughts on what I think is at issue in Wright’s book. I have not followed the “debate” over NPP and justification very closely in the past few years and consequently, to some extent, I am “out of the loop” on this one. But as one who has studied Refomed theology and read widely in Wright, I want to share what I think is significant about this particular contribution by N. T. Wright.

As I read Wright, his intent is to “go beyond the new perspective/old perspective divide” and appropriate from both perspectives since “both are necessary parts of what Paul is actually saying” (p. 212). The “emphases of the old and new perspectives belong…intimately together” (p. 200). Wright intends to present “Paul’s own majestic synthesis” where “old and new perspectives on Paul come together and, though tossed and tumbled about in the process, they are transformed and transcended, and together they give rise to prayer and praise” (p. 174-175). In many ways, the old and new perspectives “sit comfortably side by side” like a “parit of theological Siamese twins sharing a single heart” (p. 118).  For example, faith in Christ is both (1) our boundary marker rather than Torah works (NPP) and (2) the means of our justification before God (OPP).

I have shared this approach to the NPP and OPP for several years. I think the approaches can be complementary rather than antagonistic. But let me first point out where the NPP (as Wright presents it) would be problematic in terms of traditional Evangelical/Reformed/Lutheran theology. While there are many exegetical issues, my concern in this brief review is the theological points of contention–the soteriological questions. Here are a few:

• Centrality of Justification. Is the central soteri0logical doctrine of the Christian faith  ”justification by faith alone”? Protestants, based on Romans and Galatians, have generally thought so. But Wright thinks the emphasis on justification in Romans and Galatians is primarily about the question of Torah or faith in Jesus as boundary markers of the people of God. Justification is not so much about individual appropriation of the forgiveness of sins (though it includes that!), but the identification of the covenant people of God (pp. 75-76, 242). The overemphasis on Romans and Galatians–particularly a stress on justification–creates an imbalance within Paul’s own theology (e.g., what if Ephesians and Colossians had been the center of the Reformation movement?) as well as an imbalance in relation to the gospel of the kingdom in the Gospels (pp. 43, 176, 248). Justification–as traditionally explained– is one piece of soteriology, but it is not the whole of it.
• Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness. Are we justificed by the forensic imputation of the moral righteousness of Christ? While Wright believes in a substitutionary atonement based on the representative faithfulness of Jesus who enacted the covenant for us, he does not believe it is necessary to read Paul as grounding this in the imputation of Christ’s moral efforts to our moral account (pp. 206-207, 217, 231-233). The faithfulness of Jesus is his “faithfulness unto death, the redeeming death, the dealing-with-sin death” which is the declaration that we are “in the right” (p. 203). Our present status (justification) derives from God’s righteousness faithfully enacted by Jesus and we claim this status through faith in Jesus.
• “Works” and Salvation. In what sense are we “judged by works” on the last day?  Evangelicals, Reformed, and Lutherans have generally relativized Paul’s language in Romans 2 (and other places) such that obedience (sanctification) does not function as a criterion of judgment. While recognizing the legitimate pastoral concerns about assurance, there is–acccording to Wright–a role for works in the eschatological judgment of God through love (not merit!) empowered by the Spirit (pp. 184-189).

Without reviewing Wright’s sustained argument in the book, his positive presentation which seeks to transcend the divide on the above three points looks something like this.

• Union with Christ rather than Justification is Paul’s central soteriological theme.  Justification (our present righteous status before God) happens through incorporation rather than vice versa (pp. 142, 151).  We are justified because we are united with Christ. If union with Christ is the central point, then we can more appropriately see how salvation is both declaration (staus–the traditional theological category of “justification”) and participation (life–the traditional theological category of “sanctification”). Indeed, historic Reformed theology has stressed this point, which Wright recognizes (p. 72).
• The righteousness of God is God’s faithfulness enacted through the faithfulness of Christ that gives those who trust in Christ a righteous status before God. The “righteousness of God” does not refer to God’s gift of the righteousness of Christ (p. 233) but rather to the God’s covenant faithfulness through Christ (p. 66-67). Justification is a forensic declaration in terms of status, and God’s declares his people justified (p. 69). It is a lawcourt verdict in terms of status which arises out of God’s righteousness–his faithfulness.
• The living sign of our status is a holy life enabled by the Spirit of God. Righteousness (justification) is also a term used by Paul to talk about life (or, in traditional theological terminology, sanctification). Wright’s critics claim that he is moralistic at this point and ends up saving people by their works, but this misunderstands his point. There is no “Pauline doctrine of assurance” without a “Pauline doctrine of the Spirit,” that is, where there are no signs of holy living, “there is no sign of life” (p. 237). Together, our righteousness status through faith in Christ and the living signs of that status enacted in our life by the Spirit, anticipate the final judgment of justification on the last day (p. 239). The “verdict already announced is indeed a true anticipation of the verdict yet to be announced” (p. 225), and that final verdict “will truly reflect what people have actually done” by the power of the Spirit at work in their lives (p. 191-2).

One of Wright’s major concerns is the introduction of ecclesiology, pneumatology and eschatology into the discussion of the doctrine of justification which, he believes, is lacking in some discussions of Justification. We might say it something like this:

• The sign of present justification is “membership in God’s people” (ecclesiology) “as the advance sign of soteriology (being saved on the last day)” (p. 147). This participation in the covenant community (church) is missional–”a people based on the work of the Servant and the work of the Spirit, who now carry God’s light, truth and teaching to the waiting nations” (p. 197). The gospel of the kingdom (which is missional ecclesiology), so prominent in the Gospels, must hearld that God has created in Jesus and by the Spirit a people who celebrate their status (forgiven) through extending God’s purposes in the world (p. 248).
• The Spirit is the forgotten member of the Trinity in many versions of Justification where God forgives sins in Christ and this is the essence of soteriology. When we recognize that righteousness is also about sanctification and eschatological judgment, then we look to the role of the Spirit as the one who sanctifies us and empowers us for holy living as signs of the future eschatological judgment (pp. 236-240).
• The present status of believers in Christ as justified is the already of an eschatological not-yet. It is an inaugurated reality that is only “partially realized” (p. 101). It will be progressively realized in us by the power of the Spirit and eschatologically verified on the day of judgment.  Faith in Christ “includes a trust in the Spirt, not least, a sure trust that” God will complete his work when the Lord comes again (p. 107).

If we are going to use “Justification” as a comprehensive soteriological idea, then it needs to include all the elements of soteriology–ecclesiology, Christology, eschatology, sanctification, pneumatology.  If we are going to use “Justification” as a narrow identification of the lawcourt declaration of status on the basis of Christ’s work, then we should not speak of “Justification” as the center (or even the most important aspect) of soteriology since it is only one part of the whole.

If we conceive it “broadly” (and this is one possible angle since “righteousness” is used to describe many dimensions of soteriology, including past, present and future–but there are also other angles as well), it seems to me that something like the following might find some common ground between the NPP and the OPP as well as represent Wright’s point in his book:

God’s covenant faithfulness justifies (declares righteous) those who are in the Messiah because he faithfully surrendered to God’s purposes and thus dealt with sin and death through his own death and resurrection. By faith we are incorporated into the Messiah and thus participate in God’s covenant community entrusted with God’s mission in the world. Empowered by the Spirit, this community anticipates the final verdict on the last day through heralding and embodying that verdict in the present as instruments of God’s kingdom purpose to renew the creation.

If both NPP and OPP can find agreement in such a statement, then perhaps the theological tempest might calm a bit and the mission pursued more vigorously. We can only hope, I suppose.

Struggle for the Soul of Churches of Christ (1897-1907)

When the division between Churches of Christ and the Christian Churches was recognized by the religious census of 1906, the theological perspectives among the Churches of Christ were fairly diverse. While there was an ecclesiological consensus to separate from the Christian Churches, there was considerable diversity between the three major representative “traditions” among Churches of Christ which threatened that formal unity.

In Kingdom Come Bobby Valentine and I identified this diversity in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as (1) the Tennessee Tradition (or Nashville Bible School tradition, represented by the Gospel Advocate published in Nashville, Tennessee edited by David Lipscomb), (2) the Texas Tradition (represented by the Firm Foundation published in Austin, Texas edited by Austin McGary and others), and (3) the Sommer Tradition (represented by the Octographic Review published in Indianapolis, Indiana edited by Daniel Sommer). I continued the exploration of this typology in an essay honoring Michael Casey by looking at the decade when the Churches of Christ emerged as—to use David Lipscomb’s own 1907 language—a “distinct and separate” body from the Christian Churches and all other religious bodies. 

My essay “The Struggle for the Soul of Churches of Christ (1897-1907): Hoosiers, Volunteers, and Longhorns” was just published in And the WORD became Flesh: Studies in History, Communication and Scripture in Memory of Michael W. Casey, ed. Thomas H. Olbricht and David Fleer (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2009), 54-71. I have uploaded an expanded version of this essay to my Academic Page.

1907 is my terminus ad quem. While the 1906 census symbolizes the division, the public discussions of this official recognition took place in 1907. 1897 is my terminus ad quo. Lipscomb, who hesitanted to sever relations with the Christian Church, opened 1897 with this observation: “I am fast reaching the conclusion that there is a radical and fundamental difference between the disciples of Christ and the society folks” (“The Churches Across the Mountains,” Gospel Advocate 39 [7 January 1897] 4). Between 1897 and 1907 the Churches of Christ became a distinct identifiable religious body in the United States.

Whatever differences Hoosiers, Volunteers, and Longhorns had, they were united against a common foe–the Christian Church. While there are obvious sociological and sectional dimensions, even causes, of the division between the Churches of Christ and the Christian Church, there were also significant hermeneutical and theological grounds as well. Editors at the beginning of the 20th century thought these were the primary reasons for separation. The primary hermenutical ground was a Reformed regulative principle discerned through the command, example and necessary inference. The primary theological grounds were the rise of higher criticism and a developing ecumenicism among many in the Christian Church.

Nostalgia easily recalls an ideal unity when it never existed. Though the Firm Foundation, Octographic Review, and Gospel Advocate were heremeneutically and ecclesiologically united in a common front against the Christian Church, there was significant theological diversity among the journals. Theological differences among Churches of Christ ranged from polity issues (e.g., number, qualification, selection, ordination and authority of elders) to materialism (e.g., soul sleep), from mutual edification to located evangelists, from the corporate practice of the right hand of fellowship to the necessity of confession before baptism, from a prescribed order of worship to legitimate uses of the contribution on Sunday, from women working outside the home to female participation in the assembly, from involvement in politics to institutionalism (including Sunday Schools and Bible Colleges), from debating the relation of the kingdom to the church to whether the Sermon on the Mount applies to Christians, from war-peace questions to social involvement in temperance movements, from the nature of special providence to reality of contemporary miracles, and from biblical names for the church to eschatology (millennialism, renewed earth theology).

My essay, available on this website in an expanded form than published in the book, focused on four significant issues that illustrate the different orientations of each of the three traditions: (1) Rebaptism; (2) Indwelling of the Holy Spirit; (3) Institutionalism; and (4) Sunday School.

In general, though not exclusively, the Tennessee Tradition embraced dynamic divine action in the world as the in-breaking kingdom of God, the Indiana Tradition stressed the non-institutional character of that kingdom, and the Texas Tradition rejected any semblance of dynamic divine action other than a cognitive understanding of the Bible which iteself resulted in divisive ecclesiological debates within the Texas Tradition. As the Tennessee Tradition stressed “divine dynamics” rather than “human mechanics,” in the language of the Nashville Bible School graduate R. C. Bell, this central “apocalyptic” vision shaped how almost every theological concept was appropriated. The Texas Tradition, relatively devoid of divine dynamics, embraced human cognition and ability as the critical factor in humanity’s relationship with God, understanding the law of God aright, and practicing it with precision. Though the Indiana Tradition shared some formal characteristics with Tennessee, it stressed non-institutional ecclesiology and opposition to worldly wisdom, wealth and power as the centerpiece of its agenda. The Tennessee Tradition is more dynamic than the other two traditions, and both Indiana and Texas tended to focus on ecclesiological form and function in ways that the Tennessee tradition transcended with an eschatologically-driven kingdom vision.

The critical turn in the story of this essay is the loss of a dynamic sanctifying presence of God in the hearts of believers through the personal indwelling of the Spirit as symbolic of the broader loss of “divine dynamics” within Churches of Christ as a whole. At an earlier point in the history of the Stone-Campbell Movement, the movement had generally chosen Fanning’s Baconian rationalism over Robert Richardson’s openness to the work of the Spirit beyond the sacred page. The first decades of the 20th century were a similar turn. The Texas Tradition ultimately won the day on the nature of the indwelling Spirit among Churches of Christ. The loss of dynamic divine power in sanctification and the reduction of the Spirit’s work to an empirical epistemology of the word fostered debates over patterns and mechanics rather than an emphasis on the transforming, enabling and sanctifying life in the Spirit.

Blessings.

Baptismal Rapprochement Between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ?

Just as Zurich (“Zwinglianism”) and Geneva (“Calvinianism”) found sacramental common ground in the Consensus Tigurinus, my paper at the 2009 Christian Scholar’s Conference explored whether such a rapprochement is possible between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ who, in many ways, are the credobaptistic heirs of Zurich and Geneva. Since there is presently a renewed discussion among Southern Baptists and British Baptists concerning baptismal “sacramentalism” and there is also a new openness among Churches of Christ toward a more historic Calvinian understanding of baptism as a means of grace, there is hope for some kind of “rapprochement” between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ in the United States. With historical perspective and theological reflection Churches of Christ and Southern Baptists are potentially on the verge of a Consensus Americanus.

Generally, the Consensus united the Protestant Swiss Cantons in their sacramental theology and offered a mediating position between Zwingli and Luther which was ultimately Calvin’s own position. In particular, the sacraments, according to the Consensus, offer (praestat) what the signs symbolize (Article VIII), the reality is not separated from the sign (Article IX), and the signs are themselves instruments of divine grace (Article XIII). The Consensus bridged a gap between Zwingli and Luther by stressing the instrumentality of the signs by the power of the Spirit. The signs effect nothing by themselves (Article XII) but “they are indeed instruments by which God acts efficaciously when he pleases” while at the same time “salvation” is “ascribed” to God “alone” (Article XIII) because “it is God who alone acts by his Spirit” (Article XII).

1812 was a significant year for both Churches of Christ and American Baptists. In that same year Alexander Campbell, Adoniram Judson and Luther Rice were immersed upon their profession of faith in Jesus and embraced credobaptism as biblical theology. Their heirs, however, engaged in hostile and sometimes bitter disputes over the design of baptism. Generally speaking, conservative Stone-Campbell adherents—particularly among 20th century Churches of Christ—moved away from Campbell’s own Calvinian understanding of baptism as a “means of grace” to a positivistic watershed line between heaven and hell and conservative Baptists—particularly Southern Baptists—embraced a Zwinglian understanding of sacramental theology. However, there are signs that there are converging interests and theology among leaders within Churches of Christ and Southern Baptists.

Since 1999 a large number of monographs and journal articles have appeared in British publications that have argued for baptismal sacramentalism, that is, baptism as the “evangelical sacrament” that is a normative part of the conversion narrative and a means of grace (cf. Anthony R. Cross, “The Evangelical Sacrament: Baptisma Semper Reformandum,” Evangelical Quarterly 80.3 [2008] 195-217 which is available at Jay Guin’s website–see also his posts on Baptist Sacramentalism and the work of Stan Fowler). This movement has embraced a Calvinian sacramental theology. Indeed, the Baptist World Alliance has come to some agreement with the World Alliance of Reformed Churches on the meaning of baptism.

There are a growing number of Southern Baptists who are moving in this direction as well though they are reticent about sacramental language. Their linguistic hesitation is rooted in some of the same qualms and perceived baggage that is also current among historic and contemporary Churches of Christ. Nevertheless, there is a recognition that Southern Baptist practice has de-emphasized baptism. The most significant evidence of this shift is Broadman & Holman’s 2006 Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ, edited by Thomas R. Schreiner and Shawn D. Wright.

Churches of Christ are more open in recent years to moving back to Alexander Campbell’s own original Calvinian understanding of the instrumentality of baptism as a means of grace. Campbell’s baptismal theology articulated an instrumental understanding of baptismal grace but at the same time valued character more than ritual and mercy more than sacrifice. A living faith that exhibited a transformed character was more important than the full enjoyment of assurance in baptism. However, few in mid-twentieth century Churches of Christ believed that faith without baptism was transformative. Baptism was regarded more like a line in the sand or, to mix the metaphor, a watershed moment.

“Convergence” (Stan Fowler’s word) or “rapprochement” (Caneday’s word in Believer’s Baptism, p. 304) is possible within the paradigm shift currently evidenced among some leaders of Churches of Christ and some Southern Baptists. In a paper entitled Consensus Tigurinus and a Baptismal Rapprochement Between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ for the 2009 Christian Scholar’s Conference (which I have uploaded to my Academic page), I identified four points that are significant for this converging baptismal theology. I explored these in more detail in an earlier essay but in this new essay place them in the more specific context of discussion within the last decade. These four points are:

1. Baptism is a normative part of the New Testament conversion narrative.
2. Calvinian baptismal theology correctly identifies the soteriological significance of baptism as a means of grace.
3. Baptism serves faith and is subordinate to faith’s soteriological function as baptism participates in the instrumentality of faith.
4. Salvation, as a process of transformation into the image of Christ, gives baptism its theological importance and limits its soteriological significance.

As Southern Baptists move to recognize (1) & (2) and Churches of Christ are increasingly recognizing (3) & (4), convergence upon a biblical theology of baptismal grace is possible.  While significant differences still remain (especially as Reformed notions of regeneration and election lie in the background of some of this theological shift among Southern Baptists), I am convinced a new consensus is possible with the self-conscious adoption of something akin to a credobaptist Calvinian baptismal theology—which, in my estimation, is a biblical theology. Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ have an opportunity to live in harmony, practice a shared biblical theology of baptism and together promote the kingdom of God for the sake of the world.

Southern Baptist Rebaptism

When we think that “rebaptism” issues were only debated within Churches of Christ, perhaps we need to see things more broadly (e.g., Southern Baptists rebaptize) and historically (can you say “Donatist“?).

A blogpost entitled “Southern Baptists and Alien Immersion” was linked to my last post and it drew my interest. It illustrates that while there is potential rapprochement on baptismal theology, there is also strong and settled entrenchment on the subject.

The post quoted some results of a survey of 778 Southern Baptist pastors. 74% surveyed said their churches would not accept immersions by the Assembly of God or Free Will Baptist Churches. 87% said they would not accept immersions by Churches of Christ.

I think this is rather sad. When immersion is hinged on anything other than faith in Christ, it seems to me that it becomes an ecclesial–and consequently sectarian–power play. Baptism then serves denominational loyalty rather than serving faith in Jesus.

Alexander Campbell’s insistence that the confession of Jesus as the Christ is the only requirement for baptism seems all the more important to emphasize in our contemporary American context–not only for members of Churches of Christ but also, apparently, for pastors among Southern Baptist churches.

Whoever believes in Jesus is a candidate for baptism and whoever dismisses their baptism denies, it seems to me, the power of God’s work through faith (Colossians 2:12).

Ecclesiology: Practicing the Kingdom of God (SBD 14)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

“Church”  is not necessarily a popular word in the early 21st century. Whether it is modern individualism, or postmodern personalism/pragmatism, or Evangelical revivalism/theology that stresses personal (private) relationship, or the brokenness of much of what passes for “church” in the West, ecclesiology is often treated as a theological addendum disconnected from soteriology or a recommended but unnecessary dimension of Christian discipleship.

When ecclesiology is framed by post-Pentecost issues of form, polity and liturgy (Acts 2 through Jude), it devolves into denominational hair-splitting about who is right and who is wrong. But when ecclesiology is framed by the theodrama (the story of God in redemptive history), it participates in the history of the kingdom of God in the world. Originating from God’s creative act, typified in the history of Israel, rooted in the ministry of Jesus and anticipating the eschatological community, ecclesiology is rich with Christological and soteriological meaning.

God Creates Community

Ecclesiology lies at the heart of both the intent and goal of the divine project. The Triune God created a community to image its own communal life and participate in God’s care for and development of the cosmos. The divine project draws humanity into the communion of the Triune relationship so that humanity might be one in God and God dwell among them within the creation.

When humanity exalted itself to heavens and decided to make a name for itself, God called Abraham and choose his descendents as his people. They were the assembly (church) of God in the world. Israel was God’s people and Yahweh was their God, and Yahweh dwelt among them (Leviticus 26:11-12). Israel, the new creation of God, was to serve the nations as a light of God’s kingdom—an alternative to the way of the nations—and draw the nations to Yahweh.

When Israel chose the way of the nations rather than living as God’s people, Jesus of Nazareth appeared as the faithful remnant of Israel—the true light among the nations. God became flesh in Jesus and dwelt among humanity. His purpose was not to call individual, isolated disciples into relationship with God, but to gather a people from every language, tribe and nation who would become the one people of God.

Church is the community of believers whom God has called out of darkness into the light of the Christ’s kingdom. On the ground of God’s work in Christ and gathered by God, disciples of Jesus in various localities throughout the creation covenant together to follow Jesus into the world for the sake of the world. The community (church) of Jesus is an alternative community that invites the broken world to embrace a new way of life—the way of life for which God created humanity.

Ultimately and finally God will redeem creation and dwell with the redeemed in a new heaven and new earth. Then the dwelling of God will be with humanity and God will be their God and they will be the people of God. This eschatological community will reflect the diversity of human history (every language, tribe and nation) and the fullness of redemption as both creation and bodies are animated by the Spirit of God.

Theological Definition of the Church

The church is the reality of God’s redemptive presence in the present age. We may summarize this point through three metaphors present in the New Testament documents.

The church is the presence of Christ in the world through the Spirit. The church is the Spirit-filled people of God who represent Christ before the world. It is the body of Christ in whom the Spirit of God dwells. As the body of Christ, it is his presence in the world. Christ is present and fills the earth through the church. Just as God sent Jesus as his presence in the world, so Christ has sent us. As the body of Christ, the church follows Christ into the world and fulfills the ministry of Christ.

The church is a holy fellowship of God’s people on earth—an alternative community. The church is a community of believers—a pilgrim people seeking the fullness of the kingdom of God in the world. The church is the body of people who live together in covenant with God united by the Spirit who dwells within them as they express their love for God in community with each other. This is a community that is in the world, but not of the world; a holy people who belong to God and to each other. It is a koinonia (fellowship) and the shared reality is their communion with the Triune God which is experienced through the indwelling Spirit as they love each other.

The church is a manifestation of God’s kingdom on the earth. The church is, in its intent, heaven on the earth as it anticipates the fullness of God’s kingdom and is a present sign of God’s reign in the world. It is the place where the will of God should be done on earth as it is heaven. God reigns through the presence of his people as they live worthy of the gospel. While a manifestation of the kingdom, but the church also anticipates and prefigures the kingdom’s ultimate unveiling at the second coming of Christ when God’s people will dwell in a new heaven and a new earth. The church, therefore, anticipates and hopes in the future of God’s kingdom which Jesus will bring with him when he comes again.

The Mission of the Church

It is God’s present purpose that the church should proclaim the mystery of Christ to the powers of the world and embody that mystery as a community of faithful disciples.

The mission of the Jesus Christ is the mission of the church. Since the church is the body of Christ and represents the presence of Christ in the world, the mission of Jesus Christ is the mission of the church. The church learns its mission and role in the world from Jesus Christ. He was sent by God into the world, and now the exalted Jesus sends the church into the world. Jesus formed a community of disciples to fulfill the work of God—to continue the work he began.

The mission of Jesus was to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God. “I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent” (Luke 4:43). His ministry is the “good news of the kingdom of God,” that is, that the kingdom of God has come near and when the kingdom comes near the brokenness of the world is healed. The curse—the brokenness of creation—is reversed.

The “kingdom” is not the structures and organization of an institutionalized church. Rather, the kingdom is the reign of God in the world; when God reigns and overcomes the curse, when God reigns and destroys fallen barriers, when God reigns and overcomes diseases, demons and death, when God reigns and reconciles people groups, when God reigns and the poor and oppressed get justice.

While the “good news” (gospel) of the “kingdom of God” includes the death and resurrection of Jesus, that death and resurrection are the means toward the end of the reality of the kingdom of God. That kingdom reality is “good news.” It is the good news that God intends to redeem, renew, and restore the creation and the human community. God does this through the ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus; these are means by which God inaugurates, implements and consumates the kingdom.

The mission of Jesus was to practice the kingdom of God in the world. Just as Jesus declared the message that the “kingdom of God is near” (which is the “good news of the kingdom”) and healed the sick (reversing the curse), his disciples follow him into the world to announce the nearness of the kingdom and to participate in curse reversal. Disciples proclaim the good news of the kingdom and heal the sick (practice the kingdom of God). As instruments of the kingdom, they are a means by which God reigns in the world for peace, healing and reconciliation. Disciples participate in the mission of Jesus to reverse the curse as the kingdom of God grows and fills the earth. Disciples proclaim the reality of God in the world as they work for healing and reconciliation.

Practicing the kingdom of God is a way of talking about a communal discipleship which is a mode of living in the world for the sake of the world. Acts 2:42, for example, is one way of describing what it means to practice the kingdom of God as a community. The description reaches back into the ministry of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke and projects forward into the rest of Acts. Acts 2:42 is a practical “hinge” between Luke’s two narratives. Just as the church continued to teach and do what Jesus did concerning the kingdom of God (Acts 1:1), each of the particulars of Acts 2:42 were part of his ministry—teaching, community (fellowship), breaking bread and prayer. The church continues what Jesus began.

Practicing the kingdom of God is a mode of communal spiritual formation, a mode of communal sanctification. These are communal habits by which the people of God are formed and shaped into the image of Jesus—to be like the Jesus who ministered in the Gospel of Luke, that is, to be the body of Christ in the world.

What Jesus began to do, the church continues to do. The church is called to proclaim and pursue a healing and reconciling (including ethnic and gender reconciliation) ministry in the world as witness to the presence of the reign of God in the world. The mission of the church, as the mission of Jesus, is to reverse the curse—to participate in the divine agenda to heal what is broken, reconcile what is divided, and release people from oppression (whether political, sexist, racial, economic, etc.). The disciples of Jesus do this just as Jesus did it—through suffering, peace, serving, forgiveness, and seeking.

Conclusion

The church reflects the life of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. The church is the dynamic organism, the body of Christ, which exists in the world to be Christ in the world, to represent Christ in the world. The church fulfills the mission and ministry of Christ to the world.

The church is the fellowship of God’s people who, having committed themselves to the mission of Jesus, covenant together to love God, each other and the world. Called into the communion of God’s own life, the church lives within that communion as a community rather than as isolated and disconnected individuals. The church as community is not option but the experience of God’s own communal life.

The church is the holy community of God’s people who praise God, serve others and proclaim God’s redeeming message. The church is a community of disciples who follow Jesus into the world for the sake of the world.

Sacramental Theology: Experiencing Divine Presence (SBD 15)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

Sacramental theology, in some quarters of American Christianity, needs a reorientation away from an anthropocentric, human-centered, understanding where the sacraments are conceived as mere acts of human obedience to a more theocentric understanding where the sacraments are conceived as divine acts of grace through which God encounters believers to transform them into the divine image by the presence of Jesus in the power of the Spirit.

Definition of a Sacrament

Sacramentum, the original Latin word, is sometimes translated “pledge” and at other times “mystery” (the Greek Church calls the sacraments the “mysteries”). Both meanings have been applied to sacramental theology, and both are appropriate. However, as Calvin argued in his Institutes (4.14.13), it is the mystery of the sacrament that is primary rather than its pledging function. The sacraments are more than simple “church ordinances.” They are divine mysteries.

When sacrament is viewed primarily or solely as human pledge, it is anthropocentric since it is understood as something we humans do—we pledge allegiance, we testify to God’s grace, we obey, etc. But sacrament as mystery is theocentric because it is something that God does—God acts through the sacraments by the Spirit through faith. Both perspectives are true and helpful but divine action grounds and gives meaning to our human acts in the sacraments. Sacraments are external events (specific moments in space and time) which not only signify the gospel and by which we bear witness to the gospel but also through which God acts by faith to communicate justifying and sanctifying grace to believers through Jesus in the power of the Spirit.

Sacraments are (1) concrete, material realities that (2) represent the reality of the gospel, that is, they are signs that point beyond themselves to the work of God in Christ. But they do more than point, they are (3) means of grace that participate in the reality to which they point and joined to that reality by the promise of God as they mediate that spiritual reality to those who experience the sacrament. This experience is (4) eschatological as we participate in the future reality of the kingdom of God whether it is the Messianic banquet around the table, resurrection through baptism or the eschatological assembly around the throne through gathering together. The power of this sacramental moment, however, is not contained in the sign itself but (5) is effected by the Spirit who mediates the presence of God through the sacrament as (6) we receive what God gives through faith.

Sacraments are a human witness to the grace of God as well as a human pledge of allegiance to the story of God in Jesus, but they are also divine pledges of assurance and means by which God encounters, communes with and transforms believers into the image of Christ.

Sacramental Foundations

God’s sacramental approach to humanity is rooted in creation and revealed throughout redemptive history.

Creation. Since sacraments involve external, created objects (e.g., bread and wine), some have rejected a sacramental understanding on the ground of their physicality. Nothing external or physical, one might argue, can mediate the spiritual. But, ultimately, this is a denial of the goodness of creation. God was present within the creation at the beginning living in communion with the original community. God rested and dwelt in the creation as his presence was mediated through the tree of life, through walking in the Garden, and sharing life together. The good creation was designed as the context in which God would commune with creation and enjoy it.

Israel. While some dismiss the “externals” and “ceremonies” of Israel, they were sacramental occasions for the presence of God within Israel. The temple, for example, was no mere sign of divine presence, but was an authentic location of God’s redeeming and communion presence though the temple—of course—could not contain the fullness of God. Circumcision sealed the promise of God, sacrifices mediated forgiveness and sacrificial meals were occasion for rejoicing in the presence of God, and assemblies were encounters with divine presence. Though these externals and ceremonies were fulfilled and transcended in the “new covenant,” they were authentic experiences of divine presence and power under the “old covenant.”

Christ. The theological root of sacramental theology is the statement that Christ is the Sacrament of God. The incarnation sanctified creation—God became flesh and the flesh truly mediated the presence of God in the world. The grace and truth of God was located within creation in the flesh of Jesus. The fullness of God dwelt in the material and physical body of Jesus. To place a disjunction between materiality and spirituality is to undermine the incarnation. God united the material and spiritual in the person of Jesus. The sacraments draw their meaning, power and efficacy from the union of creation and God in the incarnation. The sacraments are fundamentally Christological rather than ecclesiological.

Church. As the “second incarnation” of Jesus in the world, the church is itself a sacramental reality. The church is the body of Christ and God dwells in the bodies (soma) of believers through the Spirit of God. We—finite, concrete embodied people—are the habitation of God. This is no figure of speech or mere sign. It is real—the Spirit of God dwells in the body of Christ and we are that body, even in our own material somatic existence. We are sacramental beings—we live each moment as the divine dwelling places—sanctified by the Spirit’s indwelling.

Eschaton. While the church is a flawed (by its own sin) but authentic (by the presence of God) sacrament, the eschatological community of God will enjoy entire sanctification in both body and soul. The Spirit of God will transform our bodies—from mortality to immortality, from dishonor to honor. We will live on the new heaven and new earth in Spiritual bodies, that is, material bodies animated by the Spirit of God. We will become like Christ as we are fully transfigured into the image of God and dwell with God in a sanctified new creation. Creation again will be a sacrament, our bodies will be sacramental dwelling places of God’s Spirit, and God will fully rest again in the creation. All creation will be a sacrament as everything will be inscribed with the words “Holy to the Lord.”

High Drama in Community: Assembly, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper

“Sacramental” speaks of the mystery of God’s action toward and in us through the external means of water, wine, bread and communal assembly as we experience the story of God (the theodrama) in specific moments. Baptism, the Lord’s Supper and Assembly are dramatic rehearsals of the story through which God renews communion and empowers transformation. By faith the community participates in this story and rehearses that story together as the church shares the sacramental reality together through water, food and gathering in the power of the Spirit.

Theologically, these gospel “ordinances” (or sacraments) have ordinarily (though with some variation) been construed in this manner: baptism as the means of grace for justification through participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus; the Lord’s Supper as the means of grace for sanctification through remembrance and/or communion with the death of Christ; and the Lord’s Day as the means of grace for communal worship through celebration of his resurrection. In this sense, they are not only gospel ordinances—they bear witness to the gospel, but they are also sacramental means through which believers experience the grace of the gospel in the Spirit. In other words, these gospel symbols mediate the presence of Christ to his community. They are more than signs but are also symbols through which God acts.

They are not substitutes for discipleship or transformation but rather moments of encounter with God through which we are moved along the path of discipleship toward entire sanctification. This kind of sacramentalism is not popular. Evangelicals and the positivistic hermeneutic embedded in the Stone-Campbell Movement have something in common—they ultimately disconnect the sacraments from discipleship and empty all sacramental imagination from these ordinances. Baptism becomes either a mere symbol or a test of loyalty. The Lord’s Supper becomes an anthropocentric form of individualistic piety. Assembly becomes either the ongoing public test of faithfulness (a definition of a “faithful Christian”) which degenerates into a legalism or fundamentally a horizontal occasion for mutual encouragement which is susceptible to pragmatic consumerist ideology.

In Come to the Table I argued that the Lord’s Supper is a means by which we experience the presence of the living Christ and enjoy a renewal of future hope. Indeed, we experience that future anew every time we eat and drink at the Lord’s table. It is an authentic communion with God through Christ in the power of the Spirit. Additionally, in Down in the River to Pray Greg Taylor and I argued that Baptism is a means of grace through which we encounter the saving act of God in Christ through his death and resurrection. We participate in the gospel and are renewed by the Spirit through our burial and resurrection with Christ. Further, in A Gathered People Bobby Valentine, Johnny Melton and I argued that Assembly, wherever and whenever a community of Jesus’ disciples gather to seek God’s face (e.g., to pray), is a moment when we draw near to the Father and Jesus in their eschatological glory by the Spirit. This assembly participates in the eschatological assembly as the Spirit ushers us into the heavenly Jerusalem where we share the future with all the saints gathered around the world and spread throughout time. Assembly, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are moments of communion, participation and encounter.

The sacraments, then, are fundamentally an encounter between God and believers for the sake of transformation and spiritual formation. God is active rather than passive. God is truly present. God is not a spectator but a participant as the Father through the presence of Christ by the power of the Spirit seals, confirms and energizes our faith through communion and encounter in these sacramental events.

So What?

The sacraments are an authentic experience of God. The sacraments are not bare (nude) signs but means of divine action. They are divine gifts through which we may experience God as God comes to us in grace and mercy. God is not absent from the creation and only dwelling in the “spirituality” of our consciousness, but God is present through the creation as the Spirit existentially and communally unites us with Christ through bread and wine, through water, and through assembly.

The sacraments serve our faith as moments of assurance which our feeble hearts can grasp through materiality. God’s Word and promise are connected to the signs. Faith is assured that Jesus is ours as surely as our lips sip wine, are bodies are washed and the people of God are gathered. The sacraments are means of assurance for embodied believers.

The sacraments are communal experiences of God. As God created community and redeems a community, so the divine presence comes to us in community as well. Baptism, Lord’s Supper and Assembly are shared experiences through which God is present to bind us together. We were baptized into one body, we eat the one body of Christ together, and we are the body of Christ in assembly united with the church triumphant as well as militant.

Profiles in Character: A Look at Shepherding and Spiritual Leadership I

[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. You may listen to Dean's lessons here.]

THE DIVINE SHEPHERD
Psalm 23

“God Who Has Been My Shepherd All My Life”
Genesis 48:15

The “Shepherd” metaphor is a rich but now somewhat distant idea. The relationship of a shepherd with his sheep was profound—friendly, comfortable and trusting. The Shepherd’s provided for and protected the flock. He led them to food and water as he protected them against predators. Sheep followed their shepherd.

“Shepherd” also had royal connotations in the ancient world. Kings were shepherds of their people (see Jeremiah 23:1-4). David, then, though first a shepherd of sheep became of shepherd of God’s people (Psalm 78:70-72). The shepherd King is supposed to embody the life and heart of the divine shepherd.

The entire Psalm is an exposition of the first line: “I shall not want” or lack. The Psalm then tells us what the believer does not lack with God as Shepherd. It does not mean “I don’t lack for anything I ever desired,” but “here is what the Lord has done for me so I do not really lack anything.” The meaning is “so long as the Lord is my shepherd, I will not lack for anything I need.”

At one level, the Psalm’s language rehearses God’s activity in Israel, particularly “exodus” language (the language of God leading Israel through the wilderness into the Promised Land). During the wilderness time Israel lacked nothing (Deuteronomy 2:7), God lead Israel to holy pastures (Exodus 15:13), there is no fear because God is with them (Deuteronomy 20:1; 31:8), God prepared a table for Israel in the wilderness (Psalms 78:19), and God dwelled among his people in the tabernacle during the wilderness (Leviticus 26:11-12).

At another level, the Psalm’s language describes God’s relationship with believers. The Psalm is a testimony to what God does for his people (both communally and personally) and it is a testimony of God’s caring presence. The significance of “The Lord is my Shepherd” is that “I am with you.”

Notice the images that fill the Psalm. They are images about how God cares for believers. God nourishes the soul (grass, water, “restores my soul”), provides ethical guidance (“paths of righteousness” and the “staff” is about leadership that guides), comforts the broken (no fear, comforting “staff”), protects against evil (“rod”=club for defense, enemies), lives confidently (goodness and mercy will follow), and celebrates life (table, oil, cup).

The key idea, if there is one, is indicated by what lies at the center of the Psalm (“You are with me”) as well how it begins (“The Lord is My Shepherd”) and ends (“I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever”). The key idea is presence–it is a presence that acts. It comforts, nourishes, protects, celebrates with and blesses. The Psalm is a testimony to what God has done for his people (corporately and personally) and it is a testimony of God’s caring presence among his people. The significance of “The Lord is my Shepherd” is that “I am with you.”

God as Shepherd is a model for human shepherds whether Israelite kings or church elders. Theirs must be a presence that acts as well—comforting, nourishing, protecting, guiding and enjoying the people of God.

Discussion Questions

1. What images are most compelling and helpful to you in this Psalm? What in this Psalm speaks most directly to your heart and experience? How does that image reflect God’s shepherding care?

2. Since God is the model shepherd for human shepherds, what qualities in this Psalm are most important for human shepherds, particularly shepherds of the church?

3. What might these qualities look like in a church which is led by elders? How should elders imitate the divine shepherd? If you could say to an elder, this Psalm means you should __________, how would you fill in the blank?

4. When thinking about who you might nominate as a shepherd at Woodmont Hills, identify those people who have comforted, nourished, and guided you in your discipleship. Share some of these individuals with the group and how they pastored you in your walk.

Profiles in Character: A Look at Shepherding and Spiritual Leadership II

[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. You may listen to Dean's lessons here.]

Character Traits

1 Timothy 3:1-7; Titus 1:5-9

What do you want to be when you grow up? Or, perhaps a better question, who do you want to be when you grow up?

Shepherds—elders or bishops—are the sorts of people who mirror the shepherd life of God and Jesus. They are the sorts of people we want to be when we “grow up.” Shepherds model a particular way of living and they apprentice others in that life. They embody the life which God wants to nurture in all of us.

The significance of their role within the faith community is highlighted by Paul’s saying “Here is a trustworthy saying.” This phrase occurs elsewhere in 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus to emphasize a point (1 Timothy1:15; 4:9-10; 2 Timothy 2:11; Titus 3:8). In other words, it is important for the church to have elders/bishops. Mature leadership is necessary for a healthy church. Elders should understand that the task they take up is an honorable and praiseworthy one which is worthy of the total sacrifice of their lives and the congregation should honor and respect those who willingly serve in such a capacity.

Surveying the character traits present in our biblical texts, we might say that whoever wants to be an elder or bishop (overseer) must have a blameless character, model family life, spiritually mature in knowing, living and telling the gospel story, and a good reputation in the community.

Every congregation hopes and needs mature leadership. The “help wanted” sign for such is perpetually posted on the doors of churches. But what kind of people are they. Perhaps these questions might help put flesh on the bare bones that Paul suggests to Timothy and Titus.

• Who would you select as your own personal mentor in developing your personal piety and spiritual disciplines?
• Who would you like to mentor you in your marriage and advise you in raising your children?
• Who would you choose to deepen your understanding of the gospel?
• Who would you ask to represent your congregation in a public hearing?
• Who would you want to apprentice you in the life of Jesus?

With each of those questions comes a follow up question: Why? What attracts you to that person, what do you see in them that you want for your own life, and what qualities do you see that are important for how you envision Christian discipleship? How do those qualities mesh with or reflect what Paul is describing to Timothy and Titus?

I suppose that if I were to offer one question which would strike at the essence of how important it is to select godly elders and whom I might select, I would perhaps focus it in this question:

Who would I want to raise my children?

To whomever I would entrust my children, I think I would also entrust the children of God to them.

Prayer: God, we ask that you give us the wisdom to nominate and select those whom you want to care for your children at Woodmont Hills. Lead us to those people and ignite their hearts for service to your people. Amen.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Looking at the biblical texts, identify which items fall into the broad categories given in the lesson above: character, family, maturity, gospel-telling, and community reputation. Why are these important?
2. Of the questions suggested in the lesson, which one is most significant to you in nominating a shepherd and relating to shepherds? Why?
3. In your past and present experience, name a person whom you believe has exhibited the kind of character that these texts describe.

Profiles in Character: A Look at Shepherding and Spiritual Leadership III

[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. You may listen to Dean's lessons here.]

A Shepherd Model

Acts 20:17-38

Paul had spent several years in Ephesus ministering among God’s people in that city. As he travels toward Jerusalem he calls the elders of the church at Ephesus to Miletus to remind them, encourage them and charge them.

He encouraged them by his presence. He wanted to say “goodbye” as he believed that he would not see them again. His presence was a final encouraging stroke which brought forward all their memories. Those memories would serve to guide them in how they served the church at Ephesus.

He reminded them how he conducted himself while among them. The leaders of the church in Ephesus had leadership modeled for them by Paul’s own ministry in the city. His litany of tasks, the variety of his presence and his attitude and motives are rehearsed for the sake of shaping how these elders would themselves lead the church. Paul served with…

• humility though chosen by God
• courage through many trials
• publicly and privately (“house to house”)
• powerful witness to the grace of God
• proclamation of the kingdom of God
• protecting believers from deceivers
• caring for the poor
• working with his own hands

Paul’s ministry among them was bold and confident, but tender and embracing. He taught the whole counsel of God while at the same time developing a relationship with these leaders soaked in loving tears.

He charged the elders at the church to pay careful attention to the flock, the church of God. In particular, they are to oversee (to have care over) the church as bishops and to pastor the flock as shepherds. They have a task to perform and the language of Paul’s charge carries the seed ideas of their function.

1. Elders—mature leadership that have wisdom for discernment and to mentor others (as “elders” in Israel did).
2. Pastors—to lead the flock as God’s shepherd among his people for protection, provision and maturation.
3. Bishops—to be the presence (visitation) of God among the people as leaders who bear responsibility for the spiritual condition of the church.

Paul left Ephesus in the hands of these leaders. He rehearsed his own ministry among them as a model for them to follow.

But Paul does not believe he leaves these elders totally alone. Rather, they were appointed by the Holy Spirit whose presence still lives within the community and in their lives. The Holy Spirit led the church to select these leaders. God, like in Israel, raises up leaders among his people.

Though this does not mean that particular elders have the Spirit’s permanent sanction (even Jesus chose Judas!), the presence of the Spirit in the process gives the people of God confidence in their collection decision, under the Word of God and out of love, to trust its decision and trust that God will use it to his glory. Thus, when a church selects its leaders in harmony with the Word of God and out of sincere desire to glorify the Father, we may say that the Holy Spirit led the community to select these leaders.

At Woodmont, we trust that God is present among us to select the leaders he wants through a prayer-drenched and Word-soaked process. The Holy Spirit makes leaders; we don’t make them.

Questions for Discussion:

1. What does Paul want these Ephesian elders to learn from his example in Ephesus?
2. Given the totality of this farewell speech, how would you describe the function of elders within a church?
3. Why do you think Paul ends his discussion on money, working and giving? What is it about the function of elder that makes this a particular concern or issue? How does Paul address this problem?
4.  How does our recognition that the Holy Spirit appoints elders highlight the seriousness of their responsibility and our attitudes toward them?
5. What in this text do you think Woodmont Hills need to hear this week?

Profiles in Character: A Look at Shepherding and Spiritual Leadership IV

[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. You may listen to Dean's lessons here.]

A Shepherd’s Presence

1 Thessalonians 2:1-12

This text is one of the most “pastoral” passages in all of Paul’s writings. It reflects not only his heart for those among whom he ministered, but it also testifies to the nature of his presence among them as well as his purpose, motive, and method. This is a text that displays the relational nature of Paul’s ministry.

Paul had to leave Thessalonica before he wanted. It is a young church (perhaps only six months old!). He wants badly to return and has tried (1 Thessalonians 2:18). But, unfortunately, Paul has had to leave them in the hands of the leaders he left behind.

Paul reminds them of his ministry among them for at least two reasons. First, he does not want them to think he has forsaken them but rather that he deeply loves them. Second, by this example he encourages the present leaders (cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:12) to follow his lead.

How should leaders lead? How should they minister among people? Paul describes his own ministry.

Several broad ideas indicate some of Paul’s own understanding of ministry and leadership.

• Motive—please God or please others?
• Greed—for money or self-sacrifice?
• Nurture—sharing ourselves or seeking flattery?
• Honesty—transparency or hiddenness?
• Calling—live for the kingdom or for ourselves?
• Presence—parental-like love or self-interested power?
• Proclamation—the good news of the kingdom or self-aggrandizing rhetoric?

Shepherding means relationships as well as providing direction and declaring the good news of the kingdom. Paul expected leaders in Thessalonica to follow his own example.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Given Paul’s descriptive testimony of his own ministry, which metaphors are particularly striking to you?
2. Identify some characteristics in this text that you believe are particularly important for contemporary leaders to display. Why are these important to you? How do you manifest them in your own life?
3. Reading this text, what do you think was the major charge against Paul’s ministry? Of what did they accuse him? What sounds familiar in this text in relation to contemporary leadership?
4. How might contemporary shepherds insulate themselves from such charges? How does this text guide us?

Morris Pettit

Morris Pettit, Sheila’s father (my first wife who died in 1980), passed from this life into the next this past Tuesday, July 14.

I am sad today. Morris, even 29 years after Sheila’s death, called me “son.” I have experienced the joy of family, the model of a good father, and the grace of sonship from this good man. He will be sorely missed.

I leave tomorrow for Ellijay, GA. I had promised Morris that I would speak at this funeral–he called me his “favorite preacher” (well, of course, though he had not heard me preach in years). Friday evening I will keep my promise.

This, I anticipate, will be a difficult moment for me. The visitation will be in the same funeral home where I sat with Sheila’s body for hours. The funeral will be in the same building where we remembered Sheila’s life. The burial will be in the same cemetery where Sheila lies. He will be laid next to her.

I have blogged previously how certain feelings surround that funeral experience in 1980. Uncontrolled grief. Embarrassment. Hurt. But….I have recently begun to see that experience with different eyes.

For years when I thought of Sheila’s funeral I could only see the embarrassment, tears, grief and pain. The fog of the great sadness colored everything grey so that I could not see the love present there. I could not see the love of the children from Potter Children’s Home who came to sing at the funeral, I could not see the love of my parents and siblings, I could not see the love the Pettit family (my in-laws) had for me as if I were their own son (and to this day they still call me “son”), I could not see the love of my best man who came at great expense from Oklahoma to stand beside me at the grave (thanks Bruce!), I could not see…. The list could go on.

Great sadness distorts the goodness and love of God. It blinds us to love. The fog creates distrust and fear. But the love of God is nevertheless present in the great sadness. God was present at Sheila’s funeral. God wept with me. God was present through the love that others showered on me–all love flows from God. I can see that love now.

Surrounded by love, God spoke a word into my heart that day that I can only now begin to hear: “You are my beloved.”

Now I go to whisper those same words into the ears of Laura and Morris’ sons (and their wives) and grandchildren. Thanks for your love, my family and friends.

Profiles in Character: A Look at Shepherding and Spiritual Leadership V

[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. The is the final installment. Unfortunately, I offer the homily on this one to which you may listen here when it becomes available.]

Leadership in Community

1 Thessalonians 5:12-24

Paul had to make a quick exit from Thessalonica (cf. Acts 17:1-9) and shortly thereafter passionately pens this letter. His absence created a vacuum but his letter encourages them to live worthy of the kingdom of God that he himself modeled among them (1 Thessalonians 2:12). Addressing the newly planted but the seemingly tentative condition of the Thessalonian church, the letter’s final segment naturally, I think, divides into three sections.

• He begs the community to respect and esteem its leaders (1 Thessalonians 5:12-13).
• He encourages them to live as a hopeful, grateful, caring community (1 Thessalonians 5:14-22).
• He concludes with a prayer and an assurance (1 Thessalonians 5:23-24).

Paul’s brief stay in Thessalonica (perhaps less than a month) did not give him much opportunity to develop leadership for the new church, but apparently he did charge some to give it direction. These leaders are described as people who “work hard” among them (that is, labor to the point of exhaustion), “rule” over them (etymologically, they “stand before them”), and “admonish” them (that is, warn and instruct, and the same word is used in verse 14). The verb “rule” or “over you” is the most complex word here. It may indicate either the exercise of direction or management (as in 1 Timothy 3:4, 5, 12; 5:17) or of care and assistance (as in Romans 12:8; 16:2)—or both. It has the ideas of directing, managing, caring for, and protecting. “In the Lord” reflects a kind of spiritual authority invested in these leaders.

Whether we should title these leaders as “elders,” “evangelists,” “deacons,” or some other category is uncertain but it is clear that they are the spiritual caregivers for the Thessalonians. They are, in some sense, responsible for the community. I understand it is broader than the category of “elders” and at least includes Paul’s broad notions of “co-workers” in the kingdom (like Silas and Timothy who co-author the letter with him).

Paul quite literally begs the congregation to “respect” (literally, know or recognize) and esteem (“hold in high regard”) their leaders in love because of their work (identified in verse 12). Their function is important for the body—it is not their power but their work that grounds this respect and esteem. Where there is such respect and esteem in love, there is also peace.

Turning his attention to how the members of the body treat one another, Paul rattles off in rapid fire a series of imperatives that direct the community toward a particular way of being community. The virtues, ministry and attitudes expected here would shape a community into a peaceful, loving and serving body of people who are attentive to the Spirit in their lives.

A Christian community is…..and one can fill in the blanks with this series of imperatives—warning the disorderly, comforting the hurting, serving the weak, treating everyone with patience, resisting revenge, practicing kindness, praying unceasingly, rejoicing always, loving, giving thanks in everything, listening to the Spirit, testing everything, holding to what is noble (good) and avoiding every evil.

That kind of community is utopian but it is the “God of peace” who makes it possible. Paul prays that God would fully sanctify the Thessalonian community so that they might be “blameless” when Jesus appears again. God “will do it”—he is faithful.

The goal here is not utopian as if it is generated by human means, but it is the kingdom of God breaking into a broken, fallen world. God will do it, and God has called us to live worthy of that kingdom.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Why do you think Paul thought it important to urge the congregation to “peace” in the context of living with leaders in community? How might his instructions here lead to “peace” in the community?
2. Reading through the imperatives again, which do you think need the most emphasis within the current context of the Woodmont Hills Family of God? How do we need to “admonish” or encourage each other with these words? How can we encourage these attitudes within the family?
3. Reflecting on what it means to be attentive to the Spirit, how does this apply to our current elder selection process and its results? How do we listen to the Spirit in this process?
4. Reflecting on this text, what might you add to Paul’s own prayer for the Thessalonians in 5:23-24 as you think particularly about the situation at Woodmont Hills. Pray that prayer together with the confidence that “God will do it.”

Jesus as “Son of Man” in the Gospel of John

The “Son of Man” is Jesus’ own self-description—he uses the title twelve times in the Gospel of John (1:51; 3:13, 14; 5:27; 6:27, 53, 62; 8:28; 9:35; 12:23; 13:31; in 12:34 his language is quoted back to him). It ranks second behind “Son” (in the sense of Son of God) as Jesus’ favorite self-description in the Gospel of John.

“Son of God” reflects the unique and intimate relationship between the Father and Jesus. He is uniquely Son—he is monogenes (the only one of his kind; John 3:16); there is no other sonship like his. Father and Son share an intimacy that is rooted in their shared divinity. They are one.

“Son of Man” has often been characterized as a focus on the humanity of Jesus, that is, he was born of woman. He is a human being. The Gospel of John certainly stresses the humanity of Jesus. Jesus eats and drinks like other humans; he experiences fatigue and he sheds blood. He dies.

But what is the function of this title on the lips of Jesus? Does he use the title to alert his hearers to his own humanity and his identification with the human predicament? Does Jesus use “Son of God” to refer to his divinity but “Son of Man” to signal his humanity? Or, is there more to the story than that?

“Son of Man” in the Gospel of John

Initial Use (John 1:51). John 1 is strewn with titles applied to Jesus: God (John 1:1), Son (John 1:18), Lamb (John 1:29, 36), Elect (John 1:34), Messiah (1:41) and Son of Joseph (1:45). “Son of Man” is Jesus’ own language for his identity. Nathaniel believed on Jesus because of Jesus’ intimate knowledge of him, but Jesus promised that he would “see greater things than that.” Specifically, and with the emphatic emphasis of “I tell you the truth,” he promised all the disciples (“you” is plural) that they would “see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

The language alludes to Jacob’s vision in Genesis 28:12. It is a rich metaphor which probably includes several ideas. Jesus is where humanity and divinity intersect. He is the revelatory Word of God addressing humanity through the presence of divine glory. That “heaven opened” pictures the pouring out of divine reality into the world which includes judgment (Isaiah 24:18; cf. John 5:27) and life (Deuteronomy 28:12; cf. John 6:53). Jesus is the locus of divine glory on earth—the place where heaven and earth meet.

Nicodemus Story (John 3:13-14). Responding to Nicodemus’ inquiries, Jesus declares that kingdom people are born “from above” (or, again) through the work of the Spirit. This, according to Jesus, is a “heavenly” thing, and only the one who can speak it is the one “who came from heaven—the Son of Man.” At the same time the one “came from heaven” is also the only one who “has ever gone into heaven.” This is the language of descent and ascent. The Son of Man is a heavenly persona who comes down from heaven (incarnation; cf. John 1:14) and returns to heaven (ascension; cf. John 20:17).

However, between the descent and the ascent is a crucial saving event called “lifting up.” Like the snake in the wilderness (Numbers 21:4-9), “the Son of Man must be lifted up.” The wilderness event saved those who trusted in God through looking at the snake, but judged those who refused. In the same way, the cross of Jesus will save those who believe but condemn those who reject the Son (John 3:16, 36). Life comes to those who believe but judgment to those who do not.

Judgment Theme (John 5:27). Jesus rehearses a similar theme in John 5:24—“whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life” but those who do not will be condemned (John 5:29). The Son of God is given “authority to judge because he is the Son of Man.” This judgment is eschatological in character, that is, it is occurs on a coming day when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of Man and rise to life or condemnation. The Son has authority to give life (John 5:21) or to condemn (judge; John 5:27).

Living Food (John 6:27, 53, 62). The Son of Man, Jesus tells those who are seeking loaves that only satisfy for a moment, gives “food that endures to eternal life” (John 6:27). Indeed, the Son of Man is himself the living bread of the Passover meal. He is the “bread of life” (John 6:35). This eternal life is present but also eschatological, that is, it is the life of the resurrection on the last day (John 6:40).

Jesus, then, becomes more specific about the reality of this living food which gives eternal life. One must, Jesus says, “eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood” in order to have life (John 6:53). Flesh and blood clearly point to the humanity of the Son of Man but the “eternal life” (John 6:54) that comes through eating and drinking points us to the heavenly nature of the Son of Man. Eating and drinking are means by which, Jesus says, one “remains in me, and I in him.” It is a spiritual union, an intimacy that is made possible by the sacrifice of the Passover Lamb and by our ingesting that sacrifice.

“Eating flesh” is too much for some disciples as they grumbled about his meaning. But this eating is a one that is rooted in the exalted nature of the Son of Man whom they will “see…ascend to where he was before” (John 6:62). His return to heaven—the ascension—empowers the Spirit to give life even when flesh in and of itself “counts for nothing” (John 6:63). The exalted, ascended Son of Man gives life by the power of the Spirit to his disciples through the eating of his flesh and the drinking of his blood.

Uniqueness of the Son (John 8:28). Jesus is the “light of the world” (John 8:12)—the revelation of God, the Word of God. This is rooted in his unique relationship with the Father (John 8:16) and the fact that he is “not of this world” (John 8:23). He has come down from heaven as one sent by the Father. But the climactic revelation of this relationship is the cross when fallen humanity lifts up the Son of Man (John 8:28). In that moment the heavenly origin of Jesus will be revealed and the world judged.

Healing Presence (John 9:35). In Jerusalem Jesus healed a man who had been born blind. Refusing to accept the miracle, the temple leaders excluded him. When Jesus “found him,” he asked, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The association of “Son of Man” title with this healing act reflects the eschatological reality that the Son of Man will inaugurate. There will be no curse, no blindness, but only the revelation of the glory of God. A blind man sees the Son of Man—that is the life and joy that God brings through the Son of Man.

The Son is Lifted Up (John 12:23, 34). Now the “hour” has arrived. It is the moment when the Son of Man is to be lifted up—and this involves both glorification (John 12:23) and death (John 12:32-34). When the Son of Man is lifted up, the name of the Father is glorified (John 12:28). Also when the Son of Man is lifted up, the Son of Man dies like a “kernel of wheat” planted in the ground to produce life. The Son of Man glorifies the Father through submissive obedience as an expression of the intimacy the Son feels for the Father (John 12:27-28) and this glorifies the Father. The Son of Man is the Lamb of God who goes to the slaughter (cf. Isaiah 53:1 quoted in John 12:38) and is lifted up for the sake of the world in obedience to the Father. Disciples who serve Jesus must also “follow” him in honoring the Father who will in return honor the one who serves Jesus (John 12:26).

The Glory of the Son (John 13:31). The glory of the Son of Man is to glorify the Father through his death, and in response God will glorify the Son. This is the intimacy of their relationship. The Son of Man obeys the Father and the Father loves the Son, and they share the glory of redemption by inviting humanity into their own communion. The glory of the Son and Father is the inclusion of broken humanity in the Triune fellowship of the Father, Son and Spirit—a theme prominent in the Farewell Discourse (John 13:31-17:26).

The Theology of the Son of Man in the Gospel of John

The identity of Jesus as the Son is the one who descended from heaven to obey the Father by being lifted up on a cross in order that believers might have eternal life in the resurrection and the disobedient judged by the light of God’s glory.

Son of Man as the Descended Heavenly Figure. Jesus’ role as the “Son of Man” is deeply connected with his unique relationship to the Father as the Son of God. It is because he is Son of God that he comes to earth as Son of Man. The Son of Man is sent by God from heaven to earth to accomplish the redemption of humanity through his obedience and to be the light of God in the midst of the world’s darkness. The Son of Man descends from a pre-existent status as “God” (John 1:1) to incarnate himself in human flesh and dwell among us. This is the one who not only lived in the bosom of the Father but now comes to earth to reveal the Father and manifest the glory of God in a broken world. The Son of Man is not simply a human being but the one who comes from heaven and is returning to heaven.

Son of Man as the One Lifted Up. The Son of Man is lifted up in obedience to the Father. The Son loves the Father, trusts the Father and thus obeys the Father. Their intimacy bears the fruit of redemption in the cross. The cross of Jesus, however, both saves and condemns. The cross draws some into fellowship with the Father but it repels others. Some trust in Jesus but others reject him. The cross is God’s saving act for believers but it condemns those who trust the darkness. The Son of Man is an apocalyptic savior and judge—the whole cosmos will answer to him. The cross is the focus of both God’s saving work and his judgment.

Son of Man as Ascended Eschatological Figure. The Son of Man does not remain dead but is born again through resurrection. The seed that is planted in death produces a new life in the resurrection. In this sense the Son of Man is a human being from the future; he is new humanity anticipating a new creation. The resurrection inaugurates a new reality that will be consummated in a new heaven and new earth. The Son of Man, as new human, returns to heaven; he ascends to the Father. There he pours out the Holy Spirit upon his disciples who live in the intimacy, power and giftedness of the Spirit for the mission entrusted to them. By the power of that Spirit, the Son of Man is yet present to his disciples through eating and drinking, that is, the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper. This is life, and it is the eternal life of the Ascended One who will raise us from the dead on the last day. The Son of Man is both the guarantor of our own resurrection and the life of our resurrection because of his own resurrection.

So What?

In conclusion, it is important to raise the question of significance and meaning for the contemporary church. There are many points to raise, but four are particularly significant for our present walk with God.

First, the Son of God became Son of Man in order to reveal the Father. We know the Father most clearly and fundamentally through Jesus—he is the image of the Father. The Son of Man is the revelatory bridge between God and humanity. He is the intersection between heaven and earth and to see—to know him—is to know the Father.

Second, through the Son of Man we are united to the Father and experience the same intimacy with the Father that the Son of Man has with the Father. The Father loves us just as he loves the Son (John 17:23). The Father dwells in us and we in him just as the Father dwells in the Son and the Son in him. The Father and Son did not abandon us when the Son returned to heaven but sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in us through whom we experience the intimate communion and love of the Triune God. Our intimacy with the Father in the Son through the Spirit is real, authentic—and it is available to all who trust in the one who was lifted up for our sakes to the glory of God.

Third, the Son of Man is yet present in the world through the power of the Holy Spirit when we eat his flesh and drink his blood at the table of the Lord. While flesh means nothing, the Spirit gives eternal life through eating and drinking. The realistic language upsets many—as it did disciples at the time it was spoken—but the reality is the spiritual communion between Jesus and his disciples through the Holy Spirit. By the Spirit we enjoy not only the forgiveness that the death of Jesus (flesh and blood) produced for us but we also enjoy the eternal life that is experienced in the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit with those who sit at the table eating and drinking in the kingdom of God. This is communal, spiritual nourishment as we experience eternal life even now while we yet live in these broken bodies. When we eat and drink the life of the Son at this table we experience even now the new, abundant life he brings and anticipate the fullness of that life in the coming resurrection.

Fourth, just as the Son of Man was sent, so now he sends his disciples. The Son of Man was obedient, even to the cross, and those who believe on him must follow him, even to a cross. Just as the Son of Man, we are sent into the world for the sake of the world to the glory of God. His mission has become our mission, that is, to obey the Father so that the glory of God might shine in the world. Redeemed by the Father, sent by Jesus, and empowered by the Holy Spirit, this is our mission.

An audio presentation of similar material is available here (delivered at the Highland View Church of Christ in Oak Ridge, TN, on July 29, 2009).

Eschatology: The Grand Purpose Realized (SBD 16)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page. This is the final post in this series]

Too often “eschatology” (the study of the last things) is limited to millennial debates (postmil, pre-trib premil, mid-trib premil, post-trib premill, historic premil, amil?) and the eternal destiny of human beings (heaven or hell?). For some the debates are ignored because they seem relatively irrelevant (God is going to do what God is going to do) but for others they are a consuming passion (evidenced by discussions of Tim LaHaye’s Left Behind series).

Unfortunately, in my opinion, both misunderstand the theological significance of eschatology. I would suggest the eschatology is not so much about what happens last—and the order in which it happens—but that is it about the future that is already present and at work in the world.

Christology: the New Creation has Begun

The kingdom of God is already present and has been introduced alongside of the old age which still exists. The old age and the new age co-exist and God is moving his creation from old to new. God is engaged in the redemptive work of transformation. The church, indwelt by the Spirit of God, experiences that process of transformation—we are changing from one form of glory into an increasing form of glory.

The root of the presence of the new creation is the Christ Event. In one sense, we may think about the whole Christ Event as eschatological. The resurrection, for example, is clearly eschatological as it gives birth to a new humanity. But we might also think about the death of Jesus as eschatological as well, that is, his death was the experience of second death or an eschatological death for our sakes. Also, the ministry of Jesus is eschatological in that the proclamation and deeds of the kingdom were the presence of the future. Jesus’ healing ministry was itself a kingdom act of reversing the curse of brokenness and death in the world. Even the incarnation, especially within the Orthodox tradition, is eschatological as it is the ultimate union of God and humanity as God intended from the very beginning.

Nevertheless, it appears that the ascension after the resurrection Christ is the grand eschatological Christological event but also one of the more neglected ones. Raised from the dead, Christ ascended to the right of the Father to sit and reign in the heavenlies. From there he pours out the Spirit upon the people of God, rules the creation as he brings it into subjection, and intercedes for this people. Most significantly, as the new human he lives in the form which unites heaven and earth—or, with N. T. Wright, the place where heaven and earth intersect. His glorious humanity (both body and soul) lives in the presence of God and one day will return to earth to dwell in the new Jerusalem upon a new earth.

The reigning Lordship of Jesus—a reign to last till the last enemy is destroyed—is the reign of the new human preparing a new Jerusalem for a new earth.

Resurrection: The Christian Hope

Death is the epitome of the fallen, broken world. Death is the last enemy (1 Corinthians 15:26). It is an alien invader into God’s good creation—at least in the form it exists now. It is a hated enemy that enslaves humanity as it creates doubt and fear in the hearts of people. The Christian hope is not the immortal soul living in heaven, but the immortal body living upon the new earth.

If Jesus is the firstfruits as the resurrected new human, the redeemed people of God are the harvest of new humanity (1 Corinthians 15:20-23). The firstfruits were the initial part of the annual production of grain, oil, etc., that were offered to God in acknowledgement of his ownership of all the produce of the field. The grateful offering trusted that God would bring the rest of the harvest to fruition.

The resurrection of Jesus and the resurrection of believers is essentially one: they are intrinsically connected since they belong to the same harvest. The resurrection of Jesus and that of believers does not have a mere superficial similarity. They belong to the same continuum. They are a single event in redemptive history. The resurrection of Jesus was proleptic, that is, it is a present reality that belongs to the future and assures us of the future. The resurrection of Jesus is part of the harvest—as elder brother he participates in the same immortal humanity that his siblings will experience. The resurrection of Jesus, then, is a present pledge of the future harvest. It is a preview of coming attractions.

However, the resurrection of Jesus is conceptually as well as temporally distinguishable. He is first—the firstborn from the dead. But he is more—he is the pattern as we will bear the image of the heavenly human just as we now bear the image of the Adamic human. Jesus is new humanity himself (1 Corinthians 15:49; Philippians 3:21). We will participate in his new humanity.

The resurrection of the body, patterned after and grounded in the resurrection of Jesus himself, is the Christian hope. The contrast between our present Adamic existence and our future Christic existence is the contrast between mortal and immortal, between dishonor and glory, between weakness and power, and between “natural” and “spiritual” (1 Corinthians 15:42-44).

The “natural” (literally, “soulish”) body is the material substance that is animated by earthly resources where “flesh and blood” are nourished by created life. The “spiritual” body—or, rather, Spiritual—is the material substance that is animated by heavenly resources where new humanity is nourished by the Holy Spirit. The resurrection body is animated by the Spirit of God and thus it is called “spiritual.”

New Heavens and New Earth: The Divine Goal

Where will this material body animated by the Holy Spirit live? This raises the question of the Grand Purpose of God.

God rests in the creation, delights in the creation, cares for the creation and rejoices over the creation. The narrative of Scripture represents God’s love for the creation. It does not anticipate its annihilation but its redemption, just as humanity (body and soul) is also redeemed. The creation, like humanity, groans for redemption and expects the glory of liberation alongside the children of God (Romans 8:18-24).

This is the expectation of the prophets—the restoration or regeneration of all things. Isaiah gives us the language of “new heavens and new earth” (Isaiah 65) which is utilized by both Peter (2 Peter 3:13) and John (Revelation 21:1-4) to describe the final goal of God’s redemptive work.

John’s vision in Revelation sees the new Jerusalem descend out of the heavenly throne room onto the new earth. In effect, heaven comes to earth. God comes to dwell in the new Jersualem—“the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple” (Revelation 21:22). Just as in the Garden of Eden, God rested and dwelt upon the earth, so in the Grand Purpose of God—redeeming history—God again dwells upon the earth.

The old age, at this point, has passed away. There is no more death, mourning, pain—there is no more curse (Revelation 22:3). The old order is gone and the new order fully emerges. The kingdom and glory of God will then fill the earth, and the people of God will see the face of God.

So What?

The church—as a visible sign of the kingdom of God in the present evil age—is a pilgrim community of Christ-followers. Having been raised with Christ through baptism, they participate in the new age through the Spirit. They are the presence of the new age in the world: they practice a new ethic empowered by the Spirit and they experience the new age through assembling around the Lord ’s Table as a community. They practice the kingdom of God in both life and assembly. The pilgrim church is ever moving closer to the full manifestation of the kingdom of God.

The new age has already begun. We do not merely receive this gift, but we become participants in it. Just as in the beginning God created us as co-rulers (or, vice-regents) and co-creators, so even now we reign with Christ and are invited to pursue our original vocation. We are called to be instruments of the kingdom of God in the present as we anticipate the fullness of the future reality.

This vocation is more than pastors, shepherds, evangelists or deacons. This vocation is more than functioning as a “church member.” This vocation is our identity as imagers of Christ, co-rulers with Christ.

Through this vocation we become instruments of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. As environmental scientists, we protect and care for the creation. As medical personnel, we heal the brokenness in the world. As lawyers, we pursue justice. As economists, we work toward the elimination of poverty. As farmers, we feed the hungry. As debt collectors, we protect the debtor from abuse but seek justice for the creditor. As IT workers, we bring order to chaos and increase effectiveness. This is practicing the kingdom of God.

And we practice the kingdom of God in hope, not in despair. We are neither moral defeatists nor pessimistic Chicken Littles (“the sky is falling, the sky is falling”). Empowered by the Spirit we seek to live transformed lives according to the ethic of the new age and in the hope of the age to come.

Christians are hope-filled people. That hope comforts our grieving, empowers our ministry, and announces that the kingdom of God is coming.

The Apocalyptic Struggle: A Series on Revelation 4-16 (1)

Over the next few months I will teach the “Revelation (Apocalypse) of Jesus Christ” in a bible class at the Woodmont Hills Family of God. I have a specific interest in doing this and it is to highlight the apocalyptic struggle between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world.

When the seventh angel sounded the seventh trumpet, “voices” (note the plural) announced:

“The kingdom of the world has become
the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah,
and he will reign for ever and ever.”

This, I believe, is the fundamental agenda of the Apocalypse, that is, to announce the coming of the kingdom of God which consumes the kingdoms of this world. The kingdom of God is breaking into the world and ultimately destroys the principalities and powers (to use Paul’s language) that presently de facto rule the cosmos. God will not let that stand since it de jure belongs to him.

In this series I will focus on Revelation 4-16 since it progressively unfolds the victory of God’s kingdom in a dramatic way. 

Revelation 4-16 is the second of four visions.  A superficial reading of the Apocalypse will notice how often John uses the language of “then I saw” or “I looked,” etc. John is a seer–he sees what God will do; he sees the coming reign of God.

The four visions in Revelation are highlighted by the four-fold use of “in the Spirit.” This is the language of Ezekiel 37:1 when Ezekiel was carried to the valley of bones. This phrase appears in the following places in Revelation:

• Revelation 1:10 — John sees the risen Christ on the isle of Patmos.
• Revelation 4:2 — John watches events unfold from the heavenly throne room
• Revelation 17:3 — John watches events unfold from an earthly wilderness
• Revelation 21:10 — John inspects the New Jerusalem from a high mountain on the New Earth.

This visionary notation structures the Apocalypse into four visions (a fuller schematic outline is available here):

1. Vision One - The Kingdom Begun: Jesus Has Overcome (Revelation 1:9-3:22)
2. Vision Two — The Kingdom Comes: The Heavenly Perspective (Revelation 4-16)
3. Vision Three – The Kingdom Comes: The Earthly Perspective (Revelation 17-21:8)
4. Vision Four — The Kingdom Fully Realized in the New Jerusalem (Revelation 21:9-22:7)

The second vision is the bulk of the book and, in many ways, its heart.  This section literally unveils (reveals) the work of God in the world. Sitting on the isle of Patmos and living in the urban centers of Asia Minor, the imperial power of Rome appears dominant and controlling. Who can oppose it? And where is God when the saints are martyred and the church has been placed under a hostile siege? While the first vision encourages the faithful and confronts the problems in the seven churches, the second vision pulls back the curtain to peer into the heavenly throne room. Taken up into that throne room, John sees what is really real, what the true state of affairs is.

The second vision announces that God is on his throne and Ceaser has not deposed him. It announces that the Lamb has made the redeemed a kingdom of priests. It dramatizes the opening of the scroll that contains the destiny of the cosmos itself–the scroll is taken by the Lamb from the hand of the one who sits on the throne, its seven seals are opened, seven trumpets hearld its opening, and the seven bowls of wrath are poured out upon the kingdoms of the world (partial content of the scroll).

The second vision encourages readers to believe what they cannot see. God is enthroned even though the world looks chaotic and hostile. The kingdom of God will fill the earth even though the kingdoms of the world look impregnable. The Lamb is also a Lion–a king–who will defeat the enemies of God and secure the realm for God. The Lamb and his followers will sing a new song, a song of redemption, as they celebrate the victory of God in the world.

The second vision is not simply about Rome but it is the fight (war, struggle) that has been played out within the fallen world ever since the kingdom of darkness first entered God’s good creation. It is the struggle of the children of Seth against the children of Cain in Genesis. It is the struggle of Israel against the nations, the struggle of Yahweh against the gods of the nations. It is the struggle of Jesus against the demons, and it is the struggle in which believers are engaged against principalities and powers (and not simply against flesh and blood). It is a struggle that continues today in multiple forms.

The conflict between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world is embedded in the biblical story from beginning to end. The Apocalypse, through the eyes of John, unveils the progression and conclusion of that struggle. The significance of the Apocalypse for contemporary believers is not the specific prediction of specific historical events but the assurance that the struggle is not in vain. God’s kingdom is coming, is even now present, and will ultimately triumph over the kingdoms of this world.

In coming posts I will work my way through the dramatic picture of the second vision and, hopefully, speak to the present powers that confront the people of God.

The Apocalyptic Struggle: A Series on Revelation 4-16 (2)

The Apocalypse’s second vision (Revelation 4-16) has a well-defined literary structure. The structure shapes the plot and progression of the drama’s movement.  Below is a way of picturing this structural development:

The Heavenly Throne Room: The Sealed Scroll is Seized (4-5)

The Seven Seals are Opened (6:1-8:1)

The Seven Trumpets Herald the Opening of the Scroll (8:1-11:19)

Pause: Seven Participants in the Drama are Identified (12-14)

The Seven Bowls are Poured Out (15-16)

John watches this drama from the setting of the heavenly throne room. He is taken up into the heavenlies in order to observe how God will defeat the kingdom of the beast (world) and at the same time redeem the followers of the Lamb. John has a “God’s eye view” of the events–he sees them from above rather than from below (he sees the third vision in Revelation 17:1-21:8 from below; he is taken to the wilderness to experience the brokenness of the world).

The sevens, a number that symbolizes wholeness or completeness, link the drama together. This begins in the throne room where the “seven spirits of God” (Revelation 4:5; a reference to the Holy Spirit, I think, given the parallel with Revelation 1:4) are present before the throne of God. Then there are seven seals, seven trumpets, seven thunders (which are silenced), seven actors in the drama and seven bowls. The number unites the vision.

Further, the drama is progressive. The judgments associated with the opening of the seals affect only one-fourth of the earth (Revelation 6:8), but the judgments associated with the heralding of the trumpets affects one-third of the earth (Revelation 8:12). The seven bowls, however, envelop the whole earth (Revelation 16:14). The transitions between the scenes are headed/ended by the language of “thunders, voices, lightnings, and an earthquake” (Revelation 4:5; 8:5; 11:19; 16:18). This is language of divine presence and action; it is the language of Sinai (Exodus 19:16-19). The covenant God reigns and acts. The God of Sinai is still active in the world.

Some, at least in my experience, tend to think that the God of the Old Testament was more involved in the history of the world than is the God of the New Testament. In the Hebrew Scriptures, for example, God raises up kings and brings them down. Yahweh moves nations, orchestrates their boundaries and times, and is actively purusing a divine agenda in their relationships (even when those relations are hostile). The God of the Greek Scriptures, it is said, is no longer involved in that way. Indeed, perhaps God is not involved at all except for encouraging the spread of the gospel.

The Apocalypse undermines any such Marcionite dichotomy. History–the scroll–is in the hand of God and the one who sits on the throne is calling the shots in the unfolding drama of the Apocalypse. Like Yahweh, the God of Jesus Christ uses nations, kings and powers for a divine agenda. They serve God; God does not serve them.

The throne in heaven initiates the drama within human history that will culminate in the kingdom of God. The Lamb opens the seals, seven angels who stand before God sound the trumpets, and the seven plagues (bowls) come from the heavenly temple itself. The beasts of the Apocalypse are given power–empowered but also limited by the one who sits on the throne.

God is an active agent and power within human history. Yahweh still sits on the throne and rules the cosmos. That reign, within the drama of the second vision, is increasingly and progressively manifested until Babylon (the kingdom of the beast) falls and the Lamb is enthroned on Mount Zion (e.g., the New Jerusalem).

The Lamb is God’s agent in the world. The Lion is a slain Lamb who has overcome or triumphed over evil. The followers of the Lamb overcome as well. Followers of the Lamb overcome through faithful witness (including martyrdom) rather than through violent revolution. The Kingdom of God shows up through a suffering lamb and slaughtered followers.

God will avenge the blood of the saints, but the saints follow the Lamb as faithful witnesses in a hostile world.  God protects those who have the Father’s name stamped on their forehead and God will defeat the kingdom of the beast. God will fully realize his kingdom just as we pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is heaven.” The followers of the Lamb overcome through endurance, faithfulness, and prophetic witness.

This does not mean that followers of the Lamb are passive in their relation to the kingdom of the beast. They actively pursue the agenda of the heavenly kingdom in terms of righteousness, peace and joy, but they are not violent revolutionaries. They follow the Lamb that was slain and leave the rest to God.

We are followers of the Lamb. We follow him wherever he goes (Revelation 14:4). We follow him to martyrdom, to self-sacrifice. Indeed, we are the sacrifical firstfruits that God has purchased and offered (Revelation14:4).  We follow the Lamb to the slaughter, but also into a new life. We follow the Lamb into the grave but into a new creation. We follow the Lamb to the cross and into the joy of the New Jerusalem.

We are lambs–just as Jesus was as he walked upon the earth suffering for our sakes. We follow the path of sacrifical suffering, redemptive suffering. But God has not forgotten. God will redeem and avenge his lambs. Though lambs are still led to the slaughter, the kingdom of God is coming and will come. God will remember his covenant.

Sad But Unafraid

As I have spoken on The Shack in recent months–this past weekend, for example, at the Central Church of Christ in Benton, KY–the title of this post has become increasingly clarified for me: “Sad But Unafraid.”

 [Those who fear the Lord] will have no fear of bad news;
             their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord.
                                         Psalm 112:7

“Bad news” is sad news. It comes to all of us. We each have our own “Great Sadness,” as Paul Young calls it. And most of us fear “bad news.”

Sadness generates fear. We wait for the next shoe to drop, the next bad thing to happen. As someone close to me recently commented, we begin to feel like the Coyote in the Roadrunner cartoons. Just after a boulder has crushed us, we get run over by a Mack truck and, getting up, we discover the roadrunner has gifted us with an keg of dynamite. It never seems to end.

Life is often sad. This is where Ecclesiastes resonates with me so well.  “What heavy burden God has laid on the human race!” (1:13). Living life in this mode is debilitating, oppressive and futile. No wonder Job wished had never been born (Job 3).

But God feels this sadness too. God weeps, even over Moab (Isaiah 16:9). Jesus weeps and the Holy Spirit groans with us. Yet, it does not oppress the Triune God who feels sadness but is not defined by it.

My problem–indeed, humanity’s tendency–is to allow sadness to become my identity. It has defined me at times. It has colored everything in my life, blinded me to the vibrancy of life’s colors, and distorted my joys. It was often easier to feel nothing rather than risk feeling the sadness again, and thus life becomes bland, grey and emotionless. It is easier to put up a facade than to live comfortably in my own shack.

When sadness becomes our identity, everything else becomes meaningless. In the language of Ecclesiastes, when futility and meaningless become our vision of life, life itself is a burden. When we are stuck in the sadness, we tend to think we would be better off dead.

But this is not God’s intent for us. It is not God’s own life. God’s identity is love.  God weeps, but moves through the sadness because love is God’s identity. The Father, Son and Spirit love each other, honor each other and find joy in each other. They intend their love to envelope us so that we live at the center of their love.

Our true identity is that we are loved by God, formed for love, and are only truly human–truly ourselves–when we love.  Sadness is a false identity, a false idol. 

Knowing we are loved, we are empowered to trust God as we endure the sadness.  Loved, we live through the sadness rather than getting stuck in it. Loved, we do not fear the future. Knowing we are loved, we are no longer afraid of “bad news.”

God’s Rest

Why does God need to rest? Is he fatigued? It must have been exhausting work for God to create the cosmos, the earth and everything in it, right?  NOT!

So, why did God rest?

In some of the ancient creation myths the gods built their own heavenly sanctuary when they finished their creative work (or battles) and sat down on their heavenly thrones to rule the new cosmos. Yahweh is a bit different. Yahweh does not construct a heavenly sanctuary or temple, but the earth and sky are his sanctuary.

Architectural construction is one of the more common metaphors for creation in the Hebrew Scriptures. For example, when Yahweh questioned Job about creation his questions are framed in architectural language:  “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?…Who marked off the dimensions?…Who stretched a measuring line across it?…who laid its cornerstone?…set its doors and bars in place…” (Job 38:4-10).

When God created, he was constructing his temple, a sanctuary, in which God would live with his people. The Psalmist parallels the creation of the earth with the construction of the Tabernacle. “He built his sanctuary like the heights, like th earth that he established forever” (Psalm 78:69). The Tabernacle was a poor substitute for the earth, but it was the beginning of a renewal of God’s redemptive presence among his people.  God would come to the Tabernacle (Exodus 40), and then he would come to the Temple (2 Chronicles 6:40-7:3). When the first couple was excluded from the Garden of God’s Temple, God did not forget them but pursued humanity through the calling of Abraham and his presence in the Temple.

God would then come in Jesus as the incarnate presence of God in the flesh. The flesh became God’s temple, his dwelling place (John 1:14). When Jesus ascended to the right hand of the Father, God poured out the Spirit upon his people and the Spirit of God rested upon them and dwelt in them. Now we are the temple of the living God (1 Corinthians 6:18-20; 2 Corinthians 6:14-16). In the new heaven and new earth there is no temple except that the whole of the new creation has become the temple of God because the Father and the Lamb are there (Revelation 21).

But the story began with creation. It began with the construction of God’s temple in which God would dwell with his people. The whole of creation is God’s temple or at least would become his temple with the sanctuary located in the beginning within Eden. “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool,” Yahweh declares. “Where is the house you will build for me? Where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things, and so they came into being?” (Isaiah 66:1-2a).

When God finished his temple, the creation, he “rested” in it. He came to dwell in it, to love his people, walk with them in the Garden and enjoy the shalom he created. When God finished creating, he declared it “good,” that is, pleasing, beautiful, and delightful. God rejoiced in his works (Psalm 104:31) and rested in them.

God’s rest is his delight and joy in his creation; he enjoys what he created and blesses it through his presence within it.

God created the cosmos as his dwelling place–a place where he can dwell with humanity and the rest of creation, a place of communion, delight, righteousness and peace. The earth is his sanctuary and we are his people. God invites us into his rest that we might enjoy him (Hebrews 4:1-11).

The Baptism of Jesus: Our Apprentice in Discipleship

The baptism of Jesus is the first Christian baptism.

Jesus identifies with sinners as he undergoes a ritual designed for sinners. He publicly declares his faith in God and joins the story of God’s people in the anticipation of restoration. He anticipates and foreshadows his own death and resurrection in a ritual through which future believers will participate in his death and resurrection. He is anointed with the Holy Spirit and encounters the voice of God in this sacramental moment.

The baptism of Jesus is a profoundly rich theological resource. The early centuries of the church recognized its importance though adoptionistic controversies in the West undermined its paradigmatic import there while it remained the pattern of Christian initiation in the East. Liturgically, the baptism of Jesus as an ecclesial festival was more highly prized than Christmas till later centuries. Artistically, it was the most depicted event in the life of Jesus in the ancient church.

Unfortunately, the baptism of Jesus has been relegated to the status of a mere example for believers at best and as a unique unrepeatable moment in history at worst.

Alternatively, I advocate for a restoration of the significance of this moment for Christian theology.  While there are many theological directions to which it points–and all of them deserve careful attention (as my second paragraph above indicates), in this post I want to focus on two points that are important for Christian discipleship.

As disciples of Jesus, we follow Jesus into the water. But what is the meaning of this in the light of Jesus’ own baptism?

At one level, Jesus owned the divine mission (missio dei) as his own in this act of surrender. Immersed by John, he surrendered his life to the purposes of God. He pursued those purposes in his ministry. Luke, in fact, correlates the baptism of Jesus and the ministry of Jesus–Jesus is baptized and then he begins his ministry (Luke 3:21-23). At his baptism, Jesus becomes–in a significant sense–a disciple of God as he embraced the mission and ministry of the kingdom. He became a God-follower with a public ministry in the kingdom of God.

At another level, Jesus encountered God in this baptismal moment. Not only was he anointed with power by the Holy Spirit which enabled his ministry, but he heard the voice of God. What he heard is important–he is a beloved son in whom God delights.  It is unfortunate that some seemingly reduce this divine pronouncement to “Good boy, Jesus!” Rather, it is a profound declaration rooted in Psalm 2:7 and Isaiah 42:1, 62:4 of deep joy and love.  It is a celebrative word from God as God rejoices in his son. Moreover, it is the inauguration of a renewed community–restored Israel.  Jesus is the first member, the firstfruits, of that community.

This baptism is our baptism.

When we are baptized we own the divine mission as well. We surrender our will to the divine agenda, to the kingdom of God. We embody the prayer, “Your kingdom come; your will be done.” We follow Jesus into the water to become disciples of Jesus. Baptism is a discipleship maker–both in the life of Jesus and in our own lives.

Also we encounter God in this sacramental moment. The words Jesus heard are not simply for him. They are about us as well. Arising out of the water we have become part of the community that God names “Hephzibah”–the one in whom God delights. That is our name. We, too, are beloved children of God. The divine blessing voiced at the Jordan River is heard at every faith-engendered baptism.

As I recall my own baptism at eleven years of age, I know it was not perfect. I was baptized to be saved from hell; I didn’t want to go there. But I also know that my baptism arose out of faith, even if it was as small as a mustard seed. But I don’t have to know everything about baptism to experience God’s grace through baptism. It was simply enough that I acted in faith.

But as I remember my baptism, I remember the baptism of Jesus as well. His baptism is my baptism just as his death is my death and his resurrection is my resurrection.

I remember that I committed myself to the way of the cross, the mission of God and to the ministry of the kingdom.

And…I remember that God sang over me in that moment. God announced that I was his child, a beloved child. Even now I hear the voice of God say–despite all my failures and faults–”I am delighted with you!”

God, even with my sins, celebrated me then and he continues to rejoice over me. I am his delight!

The Baptism of Jesus–Fuller Picture

[For those interested, a video of my 2007 sermon on the baptism of Jesus at Sycamore View Church of Christ in Memphis, TN, is available here (October 21, 2007) and my 9/6/09 sermon on the baptism of Jesus at Woodmont Hills Family of God will be available here soon.]

Luke’s description of the baptism of Jesus is succinct, but filled with significant language which is played out in the whole of his narrative (Luke 3:21-22).

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Given the theology of John’s baptism in Luke, it is quite surprising to read that Jesus was baptized along with “all the people.” The people and Jesus shared the same baptism—a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Luke 3:3). Jesus underwent the cleansing ritual that announced the coming of restored Israel. But why does Jesus need cleansing?

The baptism of Jesus has been a central aspect of Christian art and piety from the beginning. The earliest piece of Christian art, and the most frequent scene depicted in the earliest centuries, is the baptism of Jesus. The Christian festival of Epiphany, celebrating the baptism of Jesus, was practiced in the East as early as the late second century, which is well before Christmas was ever instituted. By the late fourth century, Epiphany was the most significant feast in Syria. The reason for this emphasis is that the baptism of Jesus was the “dominant model for Christian baptism.” The baptism of believers was patterned after the baptism of Jesus. Indeed, we believe Luke intended this very pattern.

The baptism of Jesus is a model for Christian baptism; it is the first Christian baptism. It participates in the reality of John’s baptism as a cleansing ritual but it also participates in the “last days” of Christian baptism as the context for the reception of the Holy Spirit.

On the one hand, Jesus identifies with sinners through the waters of John’s baptism. He undergoes a ritual designed for penitent sinners. He goes down in the river with “all the people” and identifies himself with the people. Jesus’ baptism is not the baptism of a righteous man who needed no cleansing, but is the identification with a people who needed cleansing. Jesus dives in with his people looking for the kingdom of God. This is, of course, exactly what Jesus did in his own death. Quoting Isaiah 53:12, Jesus characterizes his own death as one who was “counted among the lawless” (Luke 22:37). When Jesus went down to the river, he counted himself among the lawless as well. Not because he was himself a sinner, but that he identified with his people. He shared their corporate identity and underwent a cleansing ritual designed for sinners. Jesus was one with his people, both in his death and in his baptism.

On the other hand, Jesus experienced something that his people had not yet experienced, and would not experience in Luke’s narrative till the day of Pentecost in Acts 2. When Jesus was baptized, “the Holy Spirit descended upon him” (Luke 3:22). In this moment, as Peter later recalled in Acts, Jesus was “anointed…with the Holy Spirit and with power” (Acts 10:38). This anointing involves several ideas. First, it is the promise of divine presence. The Holy Spirit now abides with Jesus and leads him (cf. Luke 4:1). God is present with his Son. Second, God anoints his Son with his Spirit. It is a divine commission. The Son is given the Messianic task—it is the Spirit-anointed task of the Messiah to “preach good news to the poor” (Luke 4:18). This anointing involves the power to carry out that task so that the Messiah demonstrates the presence of the kingdom of God by casting out demons by the Spirit of God (Luke 11:20; cf. Matthew 12:28). Third, this anointing is a public divine declaration of God’s relationship to his Son (Luke 3:22). God owns his Son in this moment.

As a model or paradigm for Christian baptism, Jesus’ baptism is our baptism. We undergo the same repentance-baptism as John proclaimed, but we also experienced the divine blessing of the Holy Spirit. God gives his Spirit to us, anoints us with his Spirit as we are empowered for ministry and publicly declares our relationship to him as his own children. We are adopted into the family of God and God sends his Spirit into our hearts crying “Abba, Father” (Galatians 3:26-4:6).

But not only this—in this baptism, Jesus commits himself to the way of the cross. Immediately after his baptism, Jesus experiences the wilderness where he is tempted by Satan to turn from the way of the cross. But Jesus’ experience in baptismal waters is his commitment to experience the baptism of suffering (Luke 12:50). Jesus’ own baptism in water anticipated this baptism into death, just as our baptism in water is both a participation in the death of Christ and an act of discipleship that commits us to the way of the cross as well. If we follow Jesus into the water, then we must follow him to the cross also (cf. Luke 9:23-26).

Taken from Down in the River to Pray, pp. 53-54 by John Mark Hicks and Greg Taylor.

Silence or Privilege: Women in Churches of Christ, 1897-1907

 

Last January I began a series surveying the privilege of women to speak or their restricted silence within assemblies of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907.  I never completed the series because Discipliana (the journal of the Disciples of Christ Historical Society) was interested in publishing an article on the topic.  That article will soon appear in the Fall issue of the journal.

I have now restored access to the blog articles.  They are available at “Silence or Privilege? Women in Churches of Christ, 1897-1907″ (1, 2, 3, 4).  In the next few days I will post the final installment, part 5.

The posts tract the varying positions of the Tennessee Tradition (the most conservative and influential on this issue), the Sommer (or Indiana) tradition (the most progressive and limited in influence), and the Texas Tradition (a strange mixture that ultimately merges in opinion with the Tennessee Tradition).

By the mid-20th century, Churches of Christ had silenced women in their assemblies except for singing and baptismal confessions as well as excluding them from teaching males in Bible classes.  But it was not always so among them.

If interested, read the previous posts and soon I will complete the series in my next post.

Blessings

John Mark

A Good Question

I have been joyfully engaged with a number of European Christians this week at Gemunden about an hour northwest of Frankfurt. 

Beginning with creation, we have talked about the missio Dei as we are created as co-rulers, co-creators and partners with God in the emergence of creation. But we autonomously chose our own agenda and tumbled into brokenness, death, despair and frustration.  God chose Israel as a nation priviledged with blesings in order to bless but instead became autonomous itself. Instead of blessing the nations they became like the nations.

Jesus, the incarnate Word, became human in order to begin anew–a second Adam, a true Jew, a true human. He embraced the missio Dei and was faithful unto death. His resurrection is the introduction of new humanity–he is the firstborn from the dead, the new human–the first of the new creation.

Exalted to the right hand of the Father, he poured out the Holy Spirit as a downpayment of the new creation, the glorious inheritance of the saints of God. Our inheritance is a new heaven and new earth in a new Jerusalem–the renewed earth full of justice, righteousness and peace where heaven is on earth as God reigns forever with the saints in the new creation.

This scenario is set over against the oft-repeated idea that our goal is “get saved and go to heaven.”  Irene, a well-studied and devout believer, posed this significant and insightful question:

If heaven is where we want to go, why does God create a new heaven? What’s wrong with the “old” heaven?

To which I responded:

If heaven is where we are to go, why does God create a new earth? Why does he need an earth at all?

Bill, another brother at the conference, reported a conversation with a new believer that questioned why one would want to go to heaven when our mission–from creation till now and in the new heaven and new earth–is on the earth.

Eschatologically, we do not go to heaven, but heaven comes down to earth. God will come to dwell with his people upon the earth.  The New Jersualem will descend out of heaven onto the earth–there and then, fully and face-to-face, God will be our God and we will be his people.

We do not “fly away” but we are planted in the earth to grow, mature and blossom throughout eternity.

The Land as Our Inheritance

When God called Abraham, he promised blessings through which all the nations would be blessed (Genesis 12:2-3). Included in those blessings is the land promise (Genesis 12:6-7). The promised land is part of the Abrahamic promise.

This land promise is both overplayed as some identify the contemporary state of Israel with this land promise and undervalued as others see no fulfillment of this promise in Israel’s Messiah who is Abraham’s seed. The former think that the state of Israel is the fulfillment (or at least the beginning of the fulfillment) of God’s promise to Israel while the later believe the land promise no longer obtains after Israel was returned from Babylonian exile. I would like to propose an alternative as I don’t think either of the above options are viable.

Israel is described as the “people of [God’s} inheritance” (Deuteronomy 4:20; cf. 1 Kings 8:53) The land was part of Israel’s inheritance as the firstborn son of God among the nations (Exodus 32:13; Leviticus 20:24; Deuteronomy 4:21). One need only to skim the Torah, especially Deuteronomy, to recognize the central role the land plays as the inheritance Israel receives from Yahweh as God’s children.

Psalm 37 is a good example how the hope of inheriting the land, living in the land, and experiencing the goodness of God in the land is intergral to Israel’s joy in the Lord. Disturbed by the prosperity of the wicked, the Psalmist assures Israel that those who hope in and wait on the Lord will inherit the land. Six times the Psalmist promises–and Israel liturgically rehearses promise–that Israel will ultimately receive its promised inheritance. They will “inherit the land.” Jesus himself practically quotes Psalm 37:11 when he announces: “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).

As part of the Abrahamic promise, the land is not conditioned by the Mosaic covenant. This means that the intent of God to fulfill his promise to Abraham is not conditioned by Torah-obedience. Whether the nation of Israel at any particular time or individuals within Israel at any particular time possess the land is conditioned on Torah-obedience, but the ultimate fulfillment that Israel would inherit the land is unqualified. It is as unconditonal as the promise of the Messiah is.

On the analogy of Paul’s argument in Galatians 3, the promise was before the law and is therefore not ultimately conditioned by the law. Israel will inherit the land as God promised Abraham. It is a divine promise and God keeps his promises. More explicitly, Paul notes that “it was not through the law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise” (Romans 4:13).

This is a significant point–a critical juncture. The Abrahamic promise belongs to the children of Israel. The land is part of the Abrahamic promise. The children of Israel will possess the land; it is their inheritance.

But who is Israel? Who are the children of Abraham? Paul is, I think, clear. Since the “promise comes by faith,” it is “guarenteed to all Abraham’s offspring–not only to those who are of the law” (e.g., Torah-obeying ethnic Israel) “but also to those who have the faith of Abraham” (e.g., including the nations). In this sense Abraham is the “father of many nations;” he is the “father of us all” (Romans 4:16-17). The Gentiles (nations) have been grafted into Israel through faith (Romans 11:17). Those who belong to Messiah–those in Christ–are the children of Abraham and thus heirs of the promise (Galatians 3:29).

But does this include the land? Yes, indeed. As Paul phrases it, Abraham was the “heir of the world” (kosmos)….not just the land of Palestine (Romans 4:13). The inheritance of the children of Abraham is the world–the whole cosmos.

This is not a land we possess by violence or by purchase. Rather, we receive it by faith in the Messiah and on the ground of the faithfulness of the Messiah. The “faith(fulness) of Jesus” secures the inheritance for Israel and we participate in it through faith (Galatians 3:22). The Messiah is the heir of the all things and we are co-heirs with the Messiah through faith (Romans 8:17).

The creation is the inheritance of the people of God. We yet await, according to Romans 8:18-25, the full adoption into the family of God when we our bodies are redeemed (resurrection) and the creation is liberated (new heaven and new earth of Revelation 22:1-4). That is our inheritance. John reminds of the whole Abrahamic trajectory (Genesis 17:8) with this language himself in Revelation: “Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children” (22:7).

The Abrahamic promise was first given to ethnic Israel but, by faith and because of the Messiah, it includes the nations as well. Perhaps on the new heaven and new earth the redeemed of ethnic Israel will dwell in Palestine–in the land between the rivers of Egypt and Babylon–but the whole earth will belong to the people of God as they again reign on the earth with God. The kingdom of God will fill the earth!

I think this accounts for Paul’s language about inheritance. He writes about inheriting “the kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9-10; Galatians 5:21; Ephesians 5:5; cf. James 2:5). He praises God for the gifting us with the Spirit as a downpayment of our inheritance which will arrive when God has fully redeemed his possession (people; Ephesians 1:14–that phraseology is loaded with Hebraic expression and thought). Through faith, Paul writes, we are “qualified to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light” (Colossians 1:12).

The fullness of the kingdom of God, which is yet future, is our inheritance. It is the ultimate fulfillment of the Abrahamic promise through which God will make Israel a great nation, a great name and bless all the nations. That promise includes the land–the whole cosmos, and it belongs to all those who place their hope in Yahweh’s Messiah.

Consequently, the new heaven and new earth as the renewed (new) creation is integral to the plot line of the story of God from Abraham to the eschaton. The earth is the inheritance of God’s people and one day the reign of God will fill it from the east to the west, from the north to the south. The whole earth, unlike its present condition, will be “Holy to the Lord.”

May your kingdom come, may your will be done, on earth as it is heaven!

God’s Gifts to Israel….and the Peoples of the Earth

The most heartfelt and gut-wrenching expression of Paul’s love for his own nation, his own people, for Israel is found in Romans 9:1-5. Israel, though gifted by God with wondrous privileges, had rejected God’s Messiah. Paul was heartbroken as he listed the gifts in an overflow of praise for God’s grace toward Israel.

Gift one: adoption. Israel is God’s firstborn son among the nations (Exodus 4:22). God created, or more relationally, fathered Israel. The kings of Israel were the sons of God (Psalm 2:7). God adopted Israel as his people and nation.

Gift two: divine glory. The Shekinah glory settled on the tabernacle (Exodus 40:34) and the temple (2 Chronicles 7:1). God gave his redemptive presence to Israel in a way that he did not give to the other nations. God came to rest within Israel just as God rested within his creation and walk among the people of Israel just as he rested and walked in the Garden at the beginning.

Gift three: the covenants. God entered into a succession of covenants with Israel. Beginning with the Abrahamic covenant, God invited Israel as a nation to become his people through the Mosaic covenant. God mediated his grace and mercy through the Levitical covenant and assured Israel of their status as his people through the Davidic covenant. The covenants meant that God was committed to his people, enjoyed communion with them, and would fulfill his promises.

Gift four: the Torah. God gave the law (Torah) to Israel as a gracious gift. It was not primarily or fundamentally a legal code but instruction about how to fully become the image of God in the world as a nation. The Torah guides Israel as they walk with God in the land of promise.

Gift five: temple worship. The temple (or literally, the latreia or liturgical service), with all the festivals connected to it, was God’s gracious invitation to enjoy communion through liturgy (songs, prayer, atoning sacrifices) and meal (eating sacrificed animals in community). The temple was God’s gracious but holy presence among his people. It was the place where Israel came before the face of God as a community. Temple worship was the assembled praise of God’s people.

Gift six: the promises. God promised Abraham a great nation (as numerous as the sand of the seashore), a great name, and land. God promised David that his descendents would sit on Israel’s throne forever. God promised restoration to an exiled Israel. God promised a new heaven and a new earth. The promises belong to Israel; they were not given to the nations as independent entities.

But the Messiah, who comes from Abrahamic ancestry, is the one through whom the nations also receive these gifts. These gifts now belong to the nations, to everyone who trusts in the Messiah. Through Abraham’s Messianic seed, we all become children of Abraham by faith because of the faithfulness of the Messiah (Galatians 3:7-14).

We, too, are adopted into the family of God and call God “Father.” We, too, experience the divine glory as the Holy Spirit dwells in us and we become the dwelling of God. We, too, participate in the covenants as both Abraham’s children and subjects of David’s reign. We, too, receive the Torah as Scripture that guides us. We, too, assemble in the presence of God to praise and serve him as a gathered people, that is, the church is the temple of God. We, too, are heirs of the promises of God to Israel.

We are heirs, co-heirs with the Messiah. What God promised to Abraham belongs to us.

And that includes the land……which brings me to the subject of my next post.

Who is Wise and Understanding Among You (James 3:13)?

The letter of James, full of practical and proverbial wisdom, appears in the context of a factious struggle between wealthy and impoverished members of James’ faith community.

The tension between the rich and the poor pervades the epistle and is one of the central themes that the letter addresses. James encourages the community of faith to recognize God’s preference for the poor (James 2:5), the spirituality of a life of benevolence and inclusion (James 1:27; 2:8-9), the practicalities of living under the will of God rather than the drive for wealth (James 4:13-18), and the godliness of paying fair wages as well as the hideousness of hoarded wealth (James 5:1-6).

When James, then, asks the question that titles this post he is asking more than simply “who are the good people among you?” It is about finding some solid footing in the midst of an economic and power divide. It is about rooting oneself in the kind of wisdom that bears the likeness of God rather than the brokenness of humanity. It is also, it seems, about leadership in the midst of communal disorder and bitterness.

“Who is wise and understanding among you?” Both “wise” and “understanding” are words that described skilled and expert people. They were persons invested with knowledge; they were scientifically versed. They were, as these terms were used among Greek philosophers, the scholars. They were the people in-the-know and with the know-how.

James’ question might be something like, who should be the teachers of this community? Who is worth following and imitating? Who should mentor us?

But James immediately twists the language away from any kind of ancient educated scholarship (those lovers of wisdom, the philosophers) toward a lifestyle characterized by the fruits of God’s Spirit.

Wisdom shows up in a changed life; it shows up in transformation. What characterizes this life? It is those who show their good works out of a good lifestyle (conduct, way of life) that is characterized by wisdom’s meekness or humility. James prefers a person with life-shaping wisdom rather than an academician. Wisdom is not what you know but how you live.

“Knowledge is proud that she knows so much;
             Wisdom is humble that she knows no more.”
                            William Cowpers

But there is another kind of wisdom. Its roots, deeply planted in the heart, are envy and selfish ambition. “Selfish ambition” is the word used for political partisanship. It describes people who hold or seek positions of power for their own ends or interests.

This bitter envy and selfish ambition are the two character traits that lead to the negative consequences below: disorder and vile (useless) practices. These two traits wreck havoc in a community, a marriage, a partnership, a leadership. They destroy us from the inside—insidious heart problems that lie hidden beneath the outward boast and lie. Something is broken deep inside.

Sometimes we hear that zeal (even a bitter zeal that goes after what it wants even if someone else has it) and ambition (even if it means that we have to walk on a few people to get there) are laudable qualities. They are what make a “good worker”—they produce a good work ethic. Actually, they produces a workaholic.

The workaholic does not work for the sake of helping the community, the family or the church. That is a boastful lie. Sometimes the workaholic does not even know it. Having lived with the lie for so long, workaholics are deceived by their own protestations that it is for family, community or church. The workaholic works because of what lies deep in the heart—an ambition, a need for approval, an envy of what others have, a desire for the accolades that others receive, a greed for money, etc.

When people live out of envy and selfishness, it creates an “unruly” or unmanagable life. This word sometimes refers to seditious violence. It is disorder and confusion; it is a violent upheaval. An “unruly” tongue (3:8) leads to an “unruly life” that arises out of selfish and envious hearts. And it results is “evil practice.” This is the kind of evil that is cheap, trivial, worthless. It is meaningless and without real value. It is cruel and heartless. It is ultimately useless and self-serving.

There is, however, an alternative lifestyle. It arises out of the wisdom “from above”—it is pure, peaceable, gentle, submissive (yielding to others), full of mercy and good fruits, without vacillating (genuine), and without hypocrisy (sincere). It begins with purity (spiritual integrity) and yields attitudes and characteristics that connect with others as we live submissively, mercifully and peacefully with others. It is an integrated character—a wholeness that is genuine, sincere, merciful, submissive, gentle and peaceful in relation to others—that displays good fruits (or the good deeds of 3:13).

This person, shaped by divine wisdom, sows peace and harvests peace. They are peacemakers (Matthew 5:9); they are called the children of God.

Two wisdoms—two lifestyles. One from below, and the other from above. The wisdom from below is earthy, sensual and demonic. It is earthy—it is its own reward. It is sensual—it feels natural. It is demonic—it participates in unruly powers. The “wisdom” of envy and selfishness is shaped by earthly rewards, humanistic impulses and demonic powers. It creates disorder; it creates brokenness. It appears good. It even sounds good at times. But that life is a lie—a lie to ourselves, to our families, to our communities.

Two lifestyles—one choice. Do we seek to live out of humble meekness or do we live out of envious ambition? What is in our heart? Who are we? Which “wisdom” energizes our life, values and loves?

Earlier in the letter, James counseled his community to seek wisdom from God. “If any of you lacks wisdom,” he wrote, “you should ask God who gives generously to all without finding faulty” (James 1:5). The gift of wisdom comes “from above” (James 1:17).

But our asking is often tainted. We ask in doubt. We ask out of selfish ambition. We ask in envy. We ask because it is about us. And we stay in our busyness and our busyness feeds our ambition and envy. We are then caught in a vicious cycle of superficial spirituality: we ask, but we ask “with wrong motives” (James 4:3). We are too busy to focus, too busy to seek God’s wisdom, too busy to pray. We have too much to do, too many places to go, and too little time to do it.

What we need is for God to fill our hearts with his wisdom. We need time to pray, meditate, confess and listen. We need time to be alone with God and to be with others in intimate conversation about our hearts. We need to rid ourselves of the idol of busyness and find our value, worth and love in the one who loved us.

“Who are the wise and understanding among you?” They are not necessarily the educated, the wealthy, the powerful. They are the quiet lives of wisdom lived out in good deeds moved by a gentle humility. Whether rich or poor, whether powerful or oppressed, the skill we want is the skill to live as peacemakers in a world of conflict.

Alexander Campbell’s Demonology Lecture in Nashville (1841)

Returning to some of my historical interests (which is probably not shared by many ), I have always been fascinated with Alexander Campbell’s take on the “spiritual system” as he called it, particularly demonology.

Campbell presented a major addresson the topic of demonology to the Popular Lecture Club in Nashville, Tennessee on March 10, 1841 (published in the Millennial Harbinger [October 1841] 457-480). He also conducted an extensive correspondance with M. Winans on the topic in 1841-1842 as Winans responded to the lecture. The lecture and subsequent correspondance are available online.

The address was printed in book form as An Address on Demonology: Delivered Before the Popular Lecture Club, Nashville, Tenn in Bloomington, Indiana, by C. G. Berry in 1851 (32 pages). The essay later appeared in Popular Lectures and Addresses by Alexander Campbell published by the Christian Publishing Company in St. Louis (1861). The essays were republished by Standard Publishing in Cincinnati (1863) and by James Challen of Philadelphia, PA (1863, 1864, 1866).

Campbell visited Nashville six times, as far as I can discover. His first visit was in Feb-March 1827, his second in December 1830, and the third in March 1835. In March 1841 he was engaged in his fourth visit to Nashville when he gave his address on Demonology, and would later return again in November 1854 for his fifth visit, and then in April 1858 for his final visit to Nashville.

Campbell highly praised the church in Nashville. Under the leadership of P.S. Fall, the First Baptist Church had removed themselves from the Concord Association in 1825 but renewed that relationship in 1827 on the condition that they could pursue a reformation on the grounds of the New Testament alone (see their letter to the Association published in Christian Baptist). This letter to the Association was sent after Campbell’s first visit in 1827. The church had recently begun to meet weekly to break bread.

During Campbell’s second visit he engaged the Presbyterian pastor Obadiah Jennings in an oral discussion. He reports that the church, still led by P. S. Fall, numbered 250 at the time. “This christian congregation,” he writes, “is so far advanced in the reformation as to meet every Lord’s day, to remember the Lord’s death and resurrection, to continue in the Apostles’ doctrine, in the fellowship, breaking of bread, and in prayers and praises.”

During his third visit to Nashville, he stayed for three weeks with the Nashville church which numbered “about six hundred members” (which probably includes the county and/or region itself or perhaps a mistaken estimation; however, Eastin Morris’ Tennessee Gazetter 1834 reports that the church had “456” members “of which 280 were colored”). Tolbert Fanning was its evangelist (see MH, June 1835). He stayed with Henry Ewing who was a frequent contributor to MH.

When he visited Nashville again in early 1841 Campbell was in the process of publishing two series of essays—a polemical discussion with Barton W. Stone on the atonement and another series on the “Coming of the Lord.” In addition, he was preparing for the beginning of Bethany College in the Fall. Apparently, this was a significant reason for his tour through Cincinnati, Louisville, Nashville and then through central Kentucky (including Hopkinsville, Bowling Green, and Lexington). The Nashville Whig (March 8, 1841, p. 2) reports that Campbell mould make “an appeal to-night on behalf of the cause of Education and the claims of his new College at Bethany, Va., in the Reformed Baptist Church.”

Of course, Campbell also took the occasion to teach on the Christian system while in Nashville as reported by C. C. Norvell in the Nashville Whig (March 1, 1841), p. 2: “This gentleman, discoursed on the principles of Christianity, in the Reformed Baptist Church, in the forenoon of yesterday, and again at night. His sermons attract large crowds, and we may add, without pretending to pass upon the merits of his theory, that his compliment is not undeserved. We have rarely listened to a more finished or impressive argument, from the pulpit, than the discourse of last night. The distinct enunciation and Scottish accent of Mr. C. renders his delivery eminently pleasing.”

His trip through Nashville in 1841, however, receives no notice in Richardson’s memoirs. And though Campbell reflects on the general state of the churches in Louisville, Nashville and Cincinnati in his “Excursions—No. I” and “Excursions—No. II” (MH, May & June, 1841), he offers few details about his time in Nashville.

It was during this 1841 visit that he gave his public address on demonology on March 10 before the “Literary Club” at the Masonic Hall in Nashville. The speech was announced in the Nashville Whig on Friday, March 5. On the day of the scheduled address the following announcement appeared (Nashville Whig, March 10, 1841, p. 2): “Mr. Alexander Campbell, lectures tonight, by invitation of the Literary Club: his subject—Demonology and Witchcraft. The Club, we understand, have provided extra seats for the audience, so that the entire Hall, including the rostrum, can be occupied.” Apparently, they were expecting a large crowd.

Given that he only had a few days to prepare this lecture, the topic he chose is a curious one. The reason for his choice is evident from his applications in the essay itself. He understands the position that demons are the spirits of dead humans as subversive of any materialistic notions, that is, it is a response to infidelity. It is, Campbell writes, “proof of a spiritual system” and “a full refutation of that phantasm called Materialism.”

Here is the report of the speech that appeared in the Nashville Whig, March 12, 1841, p. 2:

“The somewhat novel subject of Demonology was discussed on Wednesday night, with much good taste and profound learning by Mr. Alexander Campbell, of Virginia. His argument was chiefly directed to the original and true office of the term Demon, as recognized in the Divine Scriptures, in contradistinction to its use by the early Greek poets, and its meaning as employed in modern times. The whole subject was treated as a theory of spirits, the learned lecturer entertaining the doctrine, as we understood him, that the disembodied spirits of the just, as well as the damned, exercise a decided though mysterious influence over the actions and destinies of the living. All are demons, in the original sense of the term, there being demons of good as well as demons of evil—the latter the subjects and especial instruments of the Prince of Darkness, Baelzeebub. The supersititons of ghosts, hobgoblins and appirations, were duly divested of their corporeal and incorporeal horrors, “raw herd, bloody bones” and all, and the doctrine of witchcraft treated as an idle fancy of the brain. The victims of these follies, in all ages, were referred to in a happy vein of sarcasm, and their manifold mental sufferings depicted with a fancy that proved that the distinguished lecturer has humor for the ridiculous as well as taste for the sublime.

To say that the lecture, as a whole, was highly creditable to the scholarship of Mr. Campbell, would be doing but half way justice to a very eloquent and finished production. As a “stranger in a strange land,” he merits the unqualified eulogy due to one whose acknowledged skill as a public debater and profound acumen as a critic, are not les distinguished in a literary, than in a theological point of view.”

The problem of materialism is lingering in Campbell’s mind. Since his last trip to Nashville, John Thomas emerged as a schismatic leader who affirmed a form of materialism regarding the state of the dead. As Thomas’ materialism became clear, Campbell was pressured by those inside (e.g., Winans) and outside the Stone-Campbell Movement (e.g., the Virginia Baptist Andrew Broaddus) to disavow his views. The proof of a “spiritual system” and of the conscious spirits of dead persons is partly a response to Thomas and insulates the movement from Thomas’ defection. Thomas was ultimately the founder of the Christadelphians. Campbell wrote a series of articles entitled “Materialism” in the September-December issues of the 1836 MH.

Campbell’s argument for a spiritual system would later be replaced, in Nashville, by a universalistic spiritualism in the person of Jesse B. Ferguson who came to Nashville in 1846 as the minister of the 350 member Spring Street church. It grew to 550, moved into a new building and then the church collapsed—both spiritually, numerically and physically. The numbers dwindled from 1855-1857, the new building burned in 1857, and ultimately Ferguson became persona non grata, dying in isolation from the church and city in 1870 (only three carriages followed his coffin to Mt. Olivet cemetery). It was in the context of the Ferguson affair that Campbell made his fifth visit to Nashville in 1854. He was not permitted to speak in Ferguson’s building. (His last visit to Nashville was in April 1858, according to Norton, Tennessee Christians, p. 80.)

In 1857 the reconstituted Spring Street church began anew in the old Spring Street building with 15 members (calling back P.S. Fall who had left the city for KY in 1831 when the membership was 250 members). Also the South College Street church began in 1857 with 3 in attendance as David Lipscomb preached the first sermon for the new community. By the end of the Civil War these two congregations represented 500 members (Hooper, Crying in the Wilderness, 203).

Campbell’s demonology essay, then, represents a middle ground between two historic controversies within the early Stone-Campbell Movement. Campbell battled the materialism of John Thomas on one end and battled the spiritualism of Jesse Ferguson on the other. In both cases the beginnings of the controversies were cloaked in titanic egos and ended with disastrous results. Nevertheless, the sage of Bethany won the day and his perspective prevailed within the movement.

This topic was apparently of great interest for Campbell. While the demonology essay evidences his interest in it as a response to infidelity, he also was interested in the topic from the standpoint of divine providence. This is not as evident in his Demonology essay as it is other writings, such as:

• “The Spiritual Universe–No. I.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (February 1851): 64-66.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. II. Angels and Demons–No. I.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (February 1851): 66-70.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. III. Angels and Demons–No. II.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (March 1851): 121-126.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. IV. Angels and Demons–No. III.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (April 1851): 181-187.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. V. Angels and Demons–No. IV.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (May 1851): 241-244.

In particular, he is quite willing to speculate that God takes the lives of young ministers because he needs them to fulfill some role as good angels (“Mysteries of Providence,” MH [1847], 707).

Another interesting dimension of the essay is Campbell’s openness to the intersection of the spiritual world and this one. It is the power of the gospel that dissipates demon possession, but where the gospel has not yet gone demons still have that power. This has tremendous implications for missions and for what are called in the contemporary context “power encounters.”

More significantly, Campbell refuses to permit the Enlightenment (infidelity in his language) to dismiss the influence that the spiritual world has on the actions and lives of people. “That we are susceptible of impressions and suggestions from invisible agents sometimes affecting our passions and actions,” he writes, “it were foolish and infidel to deny.” The spiritual world is not boxed off from the material world. Rather, God uses both good and evil spirits to influence and act within the material world. The essay is part of Campbell’s rejection of Deism and the affirmation of God’s ever present action in the world through the spiritual system.

The “spiritual system” or “universe” is an essential affirmation of the Christian system for Campbell. It opposes Deism and infidelity. But it is not a spiritualism that denies the efficacy and sufficiency of the gospel itself. The facts of the gospel dissipate the ignorance of a world caught up in spiritualism (e.g., divination through demons) and they liberate us from the tyranny of the evil powers in the universe. Science did not accomplish this, though it aided our knowledge of God’s other book—the book of nature. Only the gospel can liberate us from that ignorance and tyranny so that we might live in the freedom of the Holy Guest (Spirit) who indwells us.

In this context, Campbell’s essay on Demonology is a kind of “back door” statement of the gospel against Enlightenment skepticism and Deism (infidelity). The essay, then, forms part of his case for the “Evidences of Christianity” (a series he began in the 1835 and a course he just began teaching at Bethany College).

All Saints Day

When the Byzantine Emperor Leo V (866-911) wanted to dedicate a church to his recently deceased and godly wife, the Patriarch denied this requested.  Consequently, he dedicated it to “all saints” which, he assumed, would include his wife. Thus was born the Eastern festival celebration of “all saints” on the first Sunday after Pentecost.

In the West the origin of “All Saints” day is Pope Boniface V’s dedication of the Roman Pantheon (“all gods”) as a church dedicated to the Mary and the martyrs on May 13, 610 (which was the date of a pagan festival regarding the dead). The date was moved to November 1 by Pope Gregory III (731-741) and expanded to include “all saints.”

I am no expert on the history of “All Saints Day.” In fact, my acquaintance is fairly superficial.

I am not particularly enamoured with asking dead saints to pray or intercede for me, though I do not rule that out and God knows I can certainly use all the intercessors I can get.  But here is what I particularly enjoy about “All Saints Day.” 

The day is rooted theologically in the communion of the saints, all the saints, everywhere–”in heaven and on earth.” The festival reminds us that when we assemble as the body of Christ on earth, we assemble with the saints “in heaven.” We join their heavenly praise of God and the Lamb as depicted in Revelation 5 and we participate in the glorious joy of the saints that surround the throne of God.

We are not alone. We cannot see behind the veil, but John did in Revelation 7:9ff–which is one of the lectionary texts for All Saints Day. We are surrounded by witnesses according to Hebrews 12–another one of the lectionary texts for All Saints Day.

I find great joy, comfort and peace in this reality–and it is real to me. It is a moment when I share again the praise of God with my father, my first wife, my son, and many others I could name whose presence I miss. 

All Saints Day is a day to focus on this eternal communion between the saints through their communion with the Triune God. Called by the Father, redeemed by the Son and empowered by the Spirit we too stand in the presence of glory with the saints who have gone before. 

All Saints Day is a day to rejoice, a day to remember (much like “Memorial Day” for our veterans), and a day to participate in the doxology of the heavenly throne room.  Instead of debunking it or ignoring it, let us embrace the theological reality upon which it is based.

Let us join together this Sunday with saints all over the world and with all the saints in the heavenly throne room to praise the God who has loved us, redeemed us and is transforming us that we might fully become the image of the Son and his Father.

A “Comprehensive” Perspective on Salvation

What is salvation?

Seems like a simple question. Maybe, but maybe not.  There are certainly uncomplicated aspects to answering the question, but a “comprehensive” picture is an integrated one that explores the question from various angles.

The question may seem simple because it has often been answered simplistically. Or, perhaps better, it has often been answered with a focus on one dimension or aspect of salvation. And, in addition, it is often answered without a salvation history or redemptive history perspective, that is, the cosmic and communal dimensions of salvation have often been ignored or neglected in defining “salvation.”

In a series of coming posts, I want to explore this question.

My students know that I like charts…or at least drawing on the board (both chalk and white, though I prefer the white ones). Charts are helpful for “big picture” views, identifying various dimensions of the subject and organizing thoughts. But charts can also be constraining as they box us into particular ways of looking at a question and they are often reductionistic rather than illuminating. Nevertheless, I employ charts because they are more helpful than risky.

Below is a chart that I will explain in coming posts. 

Salvation is most often defined as the personal forgiveness of sins and a personal relationship with God (sector 1) but rarely described as a participation in the cosmic redemption of the creation (sector 8).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

I will leave you to ponder the chart as you desire and anticipate (if that is the right word ) the next post that will begin to unpack my wholistic understanding of salvation.

Peace, John Mark

Salvation: Sector 1

What is salvation?

In my last post I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the first sector (1).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 1 identifies salvation as a past, personal experience of reconciliation (healed relationship) with God through the forgiveness of sins and the imputation of righteousness.

I identify past as “Justification” because this is traditional (though western) language for the moment of conversion. It is technical theological jargon, a kind of insider language for western Christian theologians. It is helpful as a technical term because it economizes words. “Justification” is a categorical term that says alot  in one word rather than mulitplying phrases to describe what happens in “Justification.” 

Yet, there is a danger. When Paul uses the Greek term δικαιωσιν (justification, righteousness), it is not only used in reference to a past conversion moment but is also used as a synonymn for the present (e.g., Romans 6:13; sanctification) and future (e.g., Galatians 5:5; glorification) dimensions of salvation. Consequently, we cannot assume that every time Paul uses a cognate of δικαιος (just, righteous) that he is thinking about what theologians have called “Justification.” With that caveat, I think it is still helpful to use the technical terminology–at least in some contexts. But what is more important is to recognize the “past” nature of our salvation as a specific aspect of our rescue from brokenness.

Another important feature of identifying this quadrant is to recognize the personal nature of our salvation. I have avoided the term “individual” because I don’t want to raise the spector of individualism. We are not saved as isolated, disconnected individuals. But we are saved as persons, that is, we personally experience salvation. We are saved as persons by persons (Father, Son and Spirit) for relationship with persons (each other as well as the Triune community). Consequently, I do not have categorical problems with expressions like “personal relationship with Jesus or God” though I would have concerns about how that sentiment might be interpreted or applied individualistically.

What does it mean for persons to experience salvation as a past moment in their lives?  Perhaps we have to first ask what enslaves us. From what are we rescued or saved? What is broken? What or who captivates us?

Ultimately, relationships are broken, strained and hostile. This includes relationship with the self (we are fragmented people within ourselves), community (division, war, hostility), the cosmos (hostility) and God (broken communion). The personal focus of “Justification” is healing our personal relationship with God both forensically (guilt) and relationally (restored communion) . Relationship is restored and communion renewed through the forgiveness of sins (or non-imputaton of sin) and the imputation of righteouenss (Romans 4; 2 Corinthians 5).

Abraham was justified. David was forgiven. It is personal. I do believe we have a personal relationship with God. This is not a personalism disconnected from community but it is a personalism that recognizes that a person is healed through communion with God and the salvation is applied personally as well as communally.

This gift of relationship–reconciliation–is personally experienced through the presence of the Holy Spirit. This is not merely a forensic event (a “not guilty” verdict or a declaration that we are “in the right” by God’s act), but a communing encounter with the presence of God through the gift of the Spirit. The moment is forensic but also existential; it is both legal and relational. Indeed, the forensic (forgiveness of sins and imputation of righteousness) is a means toward the relational goal of existential communion.  But more needs to be said but I will leave that to sector #2.

This past act of “Justification” enables a present experience. It is not that we dwell in the past. Rather, we recognize that God’s past work in our lives empowers us to live confidently and boldly in the present. This is assurance. God’s act of justification is the ground of our assurance which we embrace through faith.

Justificaiton is God’s work–it is God’s declaration, God’s faithfulness, God’s forgiveness and God’s gift–which the Father accomplishes through the faithfulness of Jesus and applies to us through the work of the Holy Spirit. As we personally receive this gift through faith, we personally experience restored communion (relationship) with God.

Salvation: Sector 2

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the second sector (2).  I debated with myself (which is an interesting thing to observe ) whether to proceed numerically 1, 2, 3…. or to proceed temporally (talk about all the past dimensions, then the present, then the future). I finally decided on the numerical method because in this series I ultimately want to emphasize what is usually neglected, that is, the cosmic (and often the communal as well).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 2 identifies salvation as a present experience of “moral,” both inward and outward, transformation into the image of Christ who is the image of the invisible God. Personal sanctification is the process of becoming like Christ.

I put “moral” in quotation marks because I don’t want to simply identify this transformation by ethical virtues and practices (‘good works”) though it is a significant part of what I am attempting to describe.  The danger is to reduce our transformation to “doing ethics” rather than “being Christ” and to claim the power of this transformation as rooted in our own moral efforts rather than in the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.

Becoming like Christ entails moral transformation through the fruit-bearing power of the Spirit in our lives. We struggle against the “flesh” (σαρξ). There is a conflict or war inside of us. Indwelling sin battles against the indwelling Spirit so that we are often conflicted and we sometimes do not do what we want. Personal sanctification is a progressive though imperfect struggle against the sinful nature. We are neither perfectionists nor moral defeatists in this struggle–it is a battle that can be won only on the ground of the work of Christ and by the enabling presence of the Spirit but it is a hard-won victory through cooperative grace. The presence of the struggle reveals the presence of Spirit-enabled life. Through moral transformation we are saved from the debilitating power of sin.

This moral transformation is not limited to our inwardness, but is relational and kingdom-directed. It is practicing the kingdom of God just as Jesus did. It is becoming Jesus inwardly and outwardly.

But personal sanctification is not simply about moral transformation, struggle and victory, that is, defeating sin in our lives and being filled with the Spirit. It is also about being–living in communion and fellowship with God, participating in the mutual indwelling life of the Triune God. The Orthodox call personal sanctification theosis, that is, “defification.” It is an ancient characterization of life with God which goes back to at least Irenaeus in the late second century. It is reflected in 2 Peter 1:4 through the language of becoming partakers of the divine nature. We do not become ontologically divine (that is, we do not become infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, etc., so that we are God), but we experience the divine and become participants in the divine community.

Theosis includes moral transformation but it also includes ultimately participation in divine immortality (that is, glorification). Additionally, it includes a present experience of sharing the divine life and communion.  It is about being–living, sharing, communing–with God. Theosis even claims that believers may seek and experience a union with God that is analogous to Jesus’ own transfiguration, that is, believers may enjoy momentary experiences of eschatological communion through inward transfiguration even now as foretastes of what is to come. In other words, we may know God in ways that are beyond knowing and experience the depth of God’s love in ways that go beyond mere cognition (Ephesians 3:14-19).

God is certainly present with us in the now, but our awareness of that presence and communion is limited by our own brokenness and busyness. Spiritual practices, such as solitude, still our minds and hearts in ways that open up the fuller reality of God’s presence with us and enable us to experience the joy of our future blessedness even now. Theosis envisons not only our moral transformation into the likeness of Christ but opens our eyes to see that God draws us into the experience of divine union through the Holy Spirit who cries “Abba” in our hearts.

Our personal present salvation, then, is not only about moral effort (cooperative grace) but also about existential participation in the divine community. Our present salvation is about participation–participation in mission of the kingdom of God and participation in the Triune communion.

Though this participation we become Christ(ians) in the world.

Salvation: Sector 3

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the third sector (3). 

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 3 identifies salvation as the future transformation of presently broken human persons (in both body and soul) into participants of a new humanity (both body and soul) in the new heavens and new earth.

To identify our personal future glorification as only the resurrection of the body is reductionistic. It is not comprehensive enough in the chart. Rather, our glorification is a metaphorsis into the likeness of Jesus the Messiah–the new human–in both body and soul; it is a passing from the old to the new in every way, a wholistic salvation of the person.

We are saved from death (thus, the resurrection of our bodies) and we are saved from corruption (thus, our souls–inner life–are fully transformed). Through our union with Christ, we are a recreated humanity as the image of God. This is our final state of glorification as we are united with the glorified Christ–the new human who reigns over creation in a glorified (resurrected) body.

This resurrected body is neither immaterial nor spiritual (that is, ethereal). Rather it is material and Spiritual. What I mean is our bodies will have material substance–they will share in the materiality of the new heaven and new earth, but they will be animated by the Holy Spirit rather than by “flesh and blood.” The life of the immortal body is not sustained by nutrition and blood (“life is in the blood”) as in the Adamic world, but it is sustained by the life-giving Spirit according to the model of the New Adam. The hope of the Christian faith is not the immortal soul, but the immortal body which is a part of the new creation in the new heaven and new earth. Our redemption–our salvation–includes the redemption of our bodies.

The soul–our inner likeness with God, our theosis–is perfected in the new heaven and new earth. While the process of perfection began in the past and continues in the present, it is not complete until we fully participate in the life of Christ at our resurrection. Then we shall fully be as he is though we do not know what that is like as we only now experience a foretaste of that future. We, like Jesus, will experience transfiguration in the new creation. We will be permanently transfigured into the image of God, a theosis of the new humanity in both body and soul.

We will be saved as part of the new creation to image God in the new heavens and new earth. We will be saved for eternal communion with God and to serve God as his images in the new temple, the new creation. God will save us to restore our original dignity and function, and God will glorify us by reinstating our dominion (reign) over the creation. Thus, with transformed bodies and souls we will again co-rule with God in the cosmos he created.

Salvation: Sector 4

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the fourth sector (4). 

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 4 identifies salvation as the past inauguration of a new society of humans reconciled to God, each other and the cosmos. This alternative society is dedicated to following Jesus into the world for the sake of the world in continuity with the mission of God in creation and Israel. This society is the renewal of God’s missional intent as God works through humanity for the transformation of humanity and the cosmos.

As a past moment, it is rooted in God’s eternal election, the divine creative intent, the gracious call of Israel and the mighty act of God in Jesus. God chose a people through election. God created a community–both in the beginning and in Israel.  In Jesus God renewed and rebuilt a community upon whom God poured out the Spirit for the communal reconciliation of world.

The body of Christ, that is, the church, established by and rooted in the mutual love of the Father, Son and Spirit, is a new communal reality where all the fallen boundaries of the world are overcome. In the body of Christ humanity is one as it transcends the socio-economic, ethnic and gender barriers present in this evil age. Those distinctions neither determine nor bound the body of Christ.

We are the body of Christ in which the Spirit of God lives.  The life of the Spirit is an eschatological life, an empowering presence that constitutes and maintains the unity of the body. Pentecost (Acts 2), within the Luke-Acts narrative, is the overlapping (to use N. T. Wright’s language) 0f heaven and earth and is thus the constituting moment where a new community is animated and empowered to become the body of Christ on earth just as it is heaven.

The body of Christ already exists as a reality in the heavenlies in a way that is unencumbered by the brokenness of the present world. It is a heavenly reality in which all who have been reconciled to God participate. In the heavenlies we are one–reconciled to God, each other and the cosmos–even though on earth we live in broken and flawed relationships.

The church, therefore, is already one. There is one body, but it is cracked, scarred and divided in its present earthly existence. The mission of the church is, in part, to manifest this unity on earth just as it is heaven–and that is the story of sector 5.

Consequently, we pray that the will of God may be done on earth just as it is in heaven.  We pray that the body of Christ as it is know in heaven will also be known upon the earth. We pray for the unity of heaven and earth where the body of Christ might be fully experienced as one and we will know ourselves as God knows us, that is, we will experience the oneness of humanity in Christ as the body of Christ.

Meeting God at the Shack: An E-Book

Now available on Kindle.

I digress from my “salvation” posts to announce a new E-book. I will return to the salvation theme once my work load decreases a bit which is quite large at the moment as the semester comes to an end at Lipscomb University.

Over the past year or more, I have reflected on William Young’s book The Shack in the light of my own personal journey into the world of spiritual recovery.  I found much in Young’s novel that paralleled my own experience.

Last year I posted on some significant themes I found in the the book–both in terms of pastoral (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) and theological assessment (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)–but I have now completed a brief book with short chapters on The Shack as a parable of spiritual recovery.

For those who have read my previous material on God, faith and suffering (such as Yet Will I Trust Him or Anchors for the Soul), this book is a continuation of my journey. I think it is more profound and more mature than my previous writings on the subject. It is, nevertheless, still ultimately inadequate as an “answer” to the struggle of life, faith and peace continues in human hearts, including my own. Nevertheless, God offers peace even when there are no “answers”.

You may access the book here:  Meeting God at the Shack: A Journey into Spiritual Recovery as Word document or here as a PDF file.

The first part of this book discusses spiritual recovery while the second part addresses some of the theological questions that concern many. But even in the second part I am much more interested in how this parable and the theological questions it raises offer an entrance into the substantial themes of divine love, forgiveness, healing and hope. These are the main concerns of the book.

I think the question the novel addresses is this:  How do wounded people come to believe that God really is “especially fond” of them?

Only after reading the book through this lens are we able to understand how Young uses some rather unconventional metaphors to deepen his point.

My interest is to unfold the story of recovery in The Shack as I experienced it through my own journey. So, I invite you to walk with me through the maze of grief, hurt, and pain as we, through experiencing Mackenzie’s shack, face our own “shacks.”

I offer the book with this dedication:

In the past eighteen months many have showered their love upon me….
my employment—Lipscomb University and Harding Graduate School
my counselors—I have learned much about myself through your help
my church—Woodmont Hills Family of God
my bible class—the Sonseekers of Woodmont Hills
my men’s groups—where I continue to learn and practice intimacy
my spiritual care team—God’s gift to Jennifer and myself
my small group—you are all such a joy to me
my brothers and sisters—Mack, Sue and Jack…and sis-in-law Melanie
my nieces and nephews—Allison, Brittney, Ian, Carson, Logan
my mom—you love me no matter what
my daughters—Ashley and Rachel, both faithful and loving
my wife, Jennifer, for whose steadfast love I am deeply
grateful and without whom I would not be able to
share my story in this book.

They have embraced me and through them God has loved me profoundly.
Thank you!

Salvation: Sector 5

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the fifth sector (5).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 5 identifies salvation as the communal sanctification of the body of Christ living in a broken world. This body, through sanctification, becomes the instrument of God’s transforming work through which the kingdom of God breaks into the world for healing, reconciliation, justice and peace. Through the church–the community of God–the kingdom of God is realized as an alternative community to societial brokenness and thereby becomes both a witness and a means to the reality of the kingdom of God in the world as well as the communal embodiment of redemptive hope. But no matter how progressively realized the kingdom is within the present age, the community of faith (the church) awaits its full redemption in the eschaton.

That is a grand picture but, alas, an unfulfilled dream…at least in some respects. Just as Yahweh intended Israel to be a light among the nations, so Yahweh intends for the church to shine in the darkness. Like Israel, however, the church is tainted–sometimes even dominanted–by the darkness and does not appear as an alternative to worldly values but one its consumers.

Nevertheless, God is present by the Spirit in the body of Christ to sanctify and transform a people for good works in the world for the sake of the world. The church is a people for others rather than a people for themselves, but it is a people moving progressively (we hope!) toward the full realization of the kingdom of God on the earth. The church works for reconciliation and social transformation–it is for the world rather than isolated from it.

The community of God is a testimony of God’s goal for the broken creation. It is a place where peace, reconciliation and justice should reign as a witness to the world of what it is to become.  The church loses its witness when it fails to embody God’s goal for the creation. When the church is filled with wars, emnity and injustice, then it participates in that which it is intended to transform. The church, in the present, is a mixed bag of worldly brokenness and redemptive hope.

There is some discussion about whether the church is the kingdom realized or a sign of the kingdom to come. I tend to think both/and rather than either/or, but I also appreciate that the words must be nuanced. The church is the kingdom realized but not fully realized. The church is a sign of the kingdom but yet more than a sign. The church waits for an apocalyptic in-breaking of the reality of God upon the earth, but it is also the presence of God upon the earth in jars of clay.

Thus, in the present, the community of God is constantly undergoing progressive sanctification; it is always becoming and it never arrives.  There is always yet more to be and yet it is more than it was. The church between the already and the not yet, between the first and second comings of Christ, is engaged in a process of communal sanctification. It is never everything it should be (thus, the kingdom is never fully realized) but it is always more than its brokenness by the presence of  God within her (thus, the kingdom is realized by divine presence). The church progressively–despite its slips and lapses–becomes the kingdom of the God even though it awaits the fullness of that kingdom at the coming of our Lord.

The church, then, is a both a promise and a presence of the future; it is both a sign of and a realization of the kingdom of God.

Advent Lessons

Now that I have finished reading papers, grading exams and posting grades, I hope to have some leisure time to complete my series on Salvation and begin blogging about other topics that interest me.  However, given that this Christmas week, I want to call attention to a series of sermons that I regard as outstanding Advent lessons.

Dean Barham, following the Old Testament texts of the lectionary, has led the Woodmont Hills Church through the season of Advent in December. His lessons, once they are all posted, will be available here.

This past Sunday Dean, by the mercy of God, delivered a powerfully moving lesson. It was one of the best “Christmas” sermons I had ever heard (or preached myself!). Focusing on Isaiah 9:2-9, Dean reminded us that this child was born in darkness but was also the ray of hope’s light in that darkness. To people who hear the announcement and see (or believe in) the birth of the child, this son is “wonderful counselor, mighty God, prince of peace and everlasting father.”

This child will reign as a wise visionary with a goal (wonderful counselor), a powerful and effective ruler (mighty God), a just and peaceful ruler (prince of peace), and a faithful lover who will never abandon us (everlasting father).

Nation after nation has longed for such a ruler. Even Americans long for the next Lincoln, or JFK or Ronald Reagan….and some even believe they found him in our current President. Story after story in both Scripture (Abraham & Sarah, Moses, David…) and among the nations have found hope in the birth of a child…the hope that another would come who would be a light in the darkness.

The birth of Jesus is our hope. To us a child has been given. In the midst of darkness–whatever shape that darkness may take–God gives a child who embodies hope. Wars will cease; injustice will not last; oppression will end, and death will not win. Hope dispels despair and empowers life.

Hope changes the world. Real hope, that is, not a false one to which all nationalism clings. Our hope is the son of David, Jesus of Nazareth, born in Bethlehem, served among the hopeless in the Galilee of the Gentiles, crucified by Romans but raised from the dead by the Father through the power of the Spirit. This is real hope.

Salvation: Sector 6

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the sixth sector (6).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 6 identifies salvation as the fullness of the reign of God in the community of God’s people. The goal of God for human community is transformation into the likeness of God and the experience of the Triune love of God as participants in the divine fellowship. When humanity fully participates in the circle of God’s loving fellowship, then the reign of God will have fully arrived.

This salvific reality does not entail a loss of finitude or creatureliness. When glorified in the new heaven and new earth with glorified bodies that conform to the glorious body of the resurrected Lord, we will not be saved from finitude but we will be saved as finite creatures invited to share in the divine fellowship of the Triune community. We will not become omniscient or omnipotent, that is, we will not share God’s divine essence.  But we will become Godlike, that is, full participants in the divine love.

At the same time, our participation in the divine love–because it is experienced as finite creatures–is a journey  into the heart of God, deeper into the fellowship of the divine persons. Every morning God will be new to us because as finite creatures the infinite God will always have more to share with us and we will experience that love more deeply. God is like a bottomless well from which we drink–we will experience daily filling, joy and satisfaction but there is always more to drink. God will give us more moment by moment throughout eternity.

As community, we will grow more intimate with each other. It is important to emphasize the continuity between Sector 5 and Sector 6.  The relationships we begin now will continue into our glorification. More than that they will grow deeper, wider and more inclusive. Our relationships will not remain static but deepen and expand. We will know not only those with whom we have relationships now but we will also initiate new relationships with people we have never known.  The fullness of the kingdom of God as a community is an interactive web of relationships which will provide opportunity for growth on the new heaven and new earth.

The glorified community is not a static accomplishment as if we attain “perfection” (as in some kind of Platonic immutability where any change is bad) and thus there is no more work, no more loving, no more growing, no more knowing, no more connecting, etc. to be done. Rather, the fullness of the kingdom of God involves a dynamic growth into the heart of God as well as a dynamic growth among the people of God (growth in intimacy as well as growth in the numbers of people and the diversity of people with whom we will become intimacy). When God recreates, just as in the beginning God created, the Triune fellowship will create a dynamic reality that invites the redeemed community to pursue growth, intimacy, fellowship and relationship within the kingdom.

The reality that God created in Sector 4, though it is so dimly and rarely seen in our broken contexs, will be fully revealed in Sector 6.  The oneness of the people of God will emerge brightly on God’s visitation and the unity of the body of Christ–the kingdom of God–will be recognized as a gift of God’s gracious work. But the oneness does not entail some kind of Stepford human beings who are all identical. Rather, the oneness, like the oneness of the original creation, includes a diversity and a dynamism that reflects the reality of God who is both diverse (three) and loving (dynamic) while at the same time remaining one.

The fullness of the kingdom, then, is the reality of community as the image of God’s Triune fellowship.  It is the experience of intimacy without fear, love without suspicion, trust without doubt. It is love because God is love. No more barriers, no more ethnic bigotry, no more snobbish class-wars, no more alienation or marginalization.  The kingdom of God will experience community in a way that images the community of God’s own life and participate in the community of God’s life.

Salvation: Sector 7

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the seventh sector (7).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 7 identifies salvation as the beginning of the new creation in the new humanity of Jesus of Nazareth.  Jesus, resurrected from the dead and exalted to the right hand of the Father, is the fountainhead of new humanity. He is new humanity and thus the ground of new creation.

Jesus was not resuscitated from the dead, but transformed from an Adamic to a glorious humanity.  Born within the Adamic world and thus bound over to death, he was raised from the dead to live in a new world. His resurrection is the beginning of the triumphant renewal of creation–it is new creation.

The body of Jesus, just as our bodies, is deeply entangled with the creation. Our bodies are from the dust of the earth. We, as flesh and bones, are part of the creation. We are the material imagers of God within the material creation. But within the present age–this present evil age, as Paul calls–our bodies are degenerating, declining and dying.

The resurrection of Jesus, however, is the reversal of this decay. It is a new creation through the transformation of that broken, dying body into a glorious body. It is not the creation of something new, however. Rather, it is the renewal of something old. Through the resurrection, the Father by the power of the Spirit made the body of Jesus new. It is regenerated, renewed and living–never to die again.

The resurrection of Jesus has injected a regenerating virus into the comos. The newness and glory of the resurrected body of Jesus is the beginning of the newness and glory of the new creation which will remake, renew and regenerate the cosmos itself. Jesus is “firstborn from the dead” not only in the sense that he is the first, but he is “firstborn” because he has the preeminence as the one who sustains, grounds and empowers the new creation itself.

Just as resurrection is new creation, so also the exaltation of Jesus to the right hand of the Father is the reign of Christ over the old creation until all things become new again. Jesus will reign until the last enemy–which is death–is destroyed, and the death Jesus will destroy is that power of death that reigns not only over humanity but over the creation itself.

The exaltation of Jesus is the assured word of God that death will be defeated, the creation will be redeemed, and humanity will be restored to its co-regency with God in the cosmos. Humanity will sit on the throne with Jesus to reign over the new creation as humanity, along with Jesus, shares in the materiality of that new creation with resurrected bodies.

Eden–with all the symbolism attached to that name–will be restored, but more than that….Eden will be glorified as new creation just as the body of Jesus was glorified.

The resurrection and exaltation of Jesus are the “already” of our “not yet” future and the future of the creation. God has accomplished redemption in Jesus. The act of God in Jesus, this eschatological act of resurrection within history, is the assurance of the future. And the Spirit of God bears witness to this assurance as the eschatological gift that is the presence of the future in our hearts.

Identity, Vocation and the Mission of God

During the Fall semester at Lipscomb University, I teach a class entitled “Nursing as Kingdom Vocation.” There I intend to cast a vision for those pursuing nursing as a career that their chosen path is a ministry in the kingdom of God. As nurses, they will participate in the mission of God (missio Dei) as God’s ministers. I want to briefly unpack this theological notion in this post—and hopefully say more about vocation in the future.

Missio Dei and Human Identity

God created with a purpose. Creation has a goal. God is actively pursuing that goal. This pursuit is the outworking of God’s mission. Broadly, the missio Dei is to draw humanity into the circle of the Triune fellowship, unfold the full potential of the creation and fully enjoy what has been created. God delights in, rejoices over and communes with the creation, both humanity and everything else. The divine mission is to fill everything—the heavens and the earth—and everyone with glory, that is, to enjoy and rest in the creation and each other with mutual delight.

Given this mission, God created humanity with a special identity. Theologians, following Genesis 1, call it the imago Dei (the image of God). Our human identity is that we are the image of God. We were created to image God in every aspect of our lives. We were designed to be like God. Moreover, we represent God in the creation.

This identity, however, means more than we are simply reflections of God though that is an important and essential dimension. It also means that we are co-workers with God. We are co-rulers over the creation—humanity is given “dominion.” We are co-creators in the creation—we are, for example, to procreate. We are junior partners in the divine mission. This is our missional identity. We are co-missionaries with God. The divine task is also our task. We were created with this identity for the sake of this mission.

With this identity, we are called, as participants in the missio Dei, to pursue the glory of God within the creation and human communities. It is part our mission, then, to develop the full potential of the creation, lovingly care for the creation, and to gratefully enjoy the creation. It is part of our mission to pursue familial, social and communal shalom, righteousness and love which is the presence of God within the world.

Our creaturely identity, then, entails a calling—a vocation (from the Latin vocare). We are called to engage the creation and each other toward the embodiment of shalom, joy, and righteousness. This vocation is rooted in our creaturehood, our ontology. It is our place in the creation.

Given what theologians have historically called the “Fall,” the creation is filled with violence, hatred and injustice. The creation is burdened, groaning and frustrated. As a result, God intends to make all things new. (Note: not make new things, but make all things new!)

God, thus, is engaged in new creation. It began with the resurrection and ascension of Jesus to the right hand of the Father—new humanity has emerged, transformed body and life, the beginning of the renewal of creation itself and the reconciliation of all things.

Broken humanity becomes redeemed humanity which is recreated in the image of God. This redeemed identity is an extension of our created identity. Redeemed humanity is a participant in the redemptive (as well as creative) mission of God, that is, to reclaim, renew and restore the creation as the place where God dwells with humanity.

This mission is holistic—it includes every dimension of what it means for humanity to live with God upon a renewed earth as a community participating in the Triune love of God. Human society is to become what Israel was intended to be—a community filled with shalom, justice, and righteousness; a community that fully embodied the love of God.

As image of God, our vocation is to develop, care and love the creation and enjoy the perichoretic life of God. As redeemed humanity—created anew in the image of God, our vocation is to renew, restore and reclaim an alienated, groaning and broken creation (including humanity) in partnership with God.

Vocation in the Kingdom of God

Vocation is a rather ambiguous word. In Christian history vocation has sometimes been limited to professional ministry, that is, preachers, pastors, monastics or priests. Thus, only a few had “spiritual vocations” or were authentic ministers in the kingdom of God. At other times, as in the present, vocation has been so secularized that it has lost all spiritual meaning. Vocation has been gutted so that it is purely secular.

Neither is the divine intent of creation. Every human person, because they are created in the image of God, has a vocation. They are tasked with participation in the missio Dei. As images of God, every human being is a royal priest or priestess upon the earth. Humans, both male and female, serve God in his temple which is his creation.

This means there is no “secular” work that is disconnected from our missionary identity. Every work—no matter how “secular” it is conceived by others—that serves the mission of God is sacred work. Every vocation is a sacred calling when that vocation participates in the mission of God.

Human beings, however, are called into multiple kinds of works or different vocations (using vocation in the more common sense of different career paths). While we all share the broad vocation of participating in the mission of God, this mission is pursued through various “vocations.” Every human being has multiple relationships into which they are called—they are called to embody the mission of God in family relations, in social relations, in communal (even political) relations, etc. All of these are “vocations” as we are called to pursue the mission of God as family members (whether as father, mother, brother, sister, etc.) or laborers (whether as machinists, educators, lawyers, etc.).

We, as participants in community, choose particular kinds of vocations or careers. As images of God, we choose these careers (vocations) as means to love God and love our neighbors. We choose these careers as means by which we participate in the kingdom of God in order to pursue the mission of God through these vocations.

These particular vocations, as conceived through the matrix of the kingdom of God, are particular means by which we partner with God in the missio Dei. Medical professionals partner with God in healing. Financial counselors partner with God in reconciling justice for creditors and mercy for debtors. Professionals in the legal community partner with God in pursuing justice. Environmental biologists partner with God in preserving and caring for the creation. Computer programmers partner with God in bringing order out of chaos. And the list could go on and on.

Partnering with God toward the fulfillment of the mission of God is ministry in the kingdom of God. Nurses, counselors, biologists and, yes, even lawyers are ministers—they are missionaries. Their vocations are missional.

It is the nature of the present age, however, that broken people use their vocations for their own self-interest rather than to love their neighbor. But this is exactly where kingdom people model, bear witness to and actively pursue the redemptive missio Dei. Kingdom people use their vocations to love their neighbors. They are a redemptive presence in their world through their vocations. God is present in them working toward the goal God has for humanity and the creation.

Conclusion

Within God’s creation, everyone is a missionary. Everyone has a vocation. And every career path—specialized vocation—is a ministry in the kingdom when it participates in God’s mission.

The sacred/secular distinction removes the sacred from God’s creation, reduces human vocation to self-interest, and undermines our identity as imagers of God.

Our identity is that we represent God in the creation. Our vocation is to participate in the mission of God. Our careers are specialized vocations that partner with God in that mission.

When we pursue those vocations we both proclaim and enact the good news of the kingdom of God!

Salvation: Sector 8

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the eighth sector (8).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 8 identifies salvation as the redemption of creation through the emergence or in-breaking of new creation into the present cosmos. This is cosmic sanctification as the groaning and frustrated creation is progressively liberated from the bondage of decay.

The church is a means toward the redemptive emergence of new creation because it is sustained by the power of the eschatological Spirit dwelling in it.  The church serves the goal, which is a creation filled with shalom, that is, a creation filled with righteousness, justice, peace, wholeness and joy. This includes not only social transformation (social ethics) but also the care, enjoyment and protection of the creation itself.

Herein lies the importance of vocation (or a theology of work) in Christian theology. Through vocation believers (and non-believers as well by God’s grace) participate in the mission of God to redeem the creation and further the goals of God’s creative act. Believers are a redemptive presence in a broken world. They work for reconciliation, to care for the creation, and to develop the potential of creation.

God did not create a perfected static reality.  He invested it with (indeed, commanded it to) change–be fruitful and multiply.  Nothing changes the world like children!  But this dynamism is not limited to procreation. Rather, it is filling the earth with the glory of God through participating in God’s agenda for the creation. It is pursuing our vocation, and the many vocations (careers) that flow from that vocational identity as divine imagers. God intended the creation to emerge, grow, develop and become with a view toward a glorious reality. This is the telos or goal of creation.

God created humanity to share the task (the mission) in achieving that goal. As junior partners with God, as co-regents in the creation, as co-creators of the future, God has invested in us the dignity, joy and value of joining God in the divine mission.

We participate in this adventure by living out our identity in vocational mission. Our careers become vocations by which we move the creation forward in redemptive, reconciling and orderly ways. Believers should not choose their careers lightly nor should they reduce their careers to money-making schemes.  Rather, careers are vocational, that is, they are callings into the mission of God. Through their careers believers become ministers in the kingdom of God as they use their careers to further the divine goal for creation. Through this giftedness, expressed as love for neighbors and the creation, God redeems, renews and reinvests in the creation.

Nevertheless, creation will groan until the final liberation from death itself. While medical advancements cheat death, they do not defeat it.  While justice grows, slavery still exists.  While moments of reconciliation bear witness to the glory of God (as in South Africa), much of humanity is still alienated from each other. The church and other human acts graced by God bear witness to and work toward the goal. But the full reality of that goal can only be achieved by God’s apocalyptic act whereby God reverses the curse and makes everything new.

Thus, while the church is an authentic means of grace within the world and for the sake of the world as the new creation already lives and moves within the world through the church, the full renovation and regeneration of the cosmos will only arrive when the kingdom of God fully comes in the coming of our Lord Jesus. We yet wait–patientily, but actively (not passively)–for that climactic and glorious moment.

Which Calendar Orients Your Life?

We all live with multiple and varied calendars. My work life is regulated by an academic calendar—a schedule of convocations, breaks, exams and class schedules. My national life is regulated by a federal calendar that has declared certain days as “holidays”: Martin Luther King’s birthday, President’s Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Veteran’s Day, and Thanksgiving Day. My family life is flavored by a “Hallmark” calendar: Valentine’s Day (it’s coming boys!), Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, etc.

As part of the Stone-Campbell tradition, particularly Churches of Christ, I grew up with little or no knowledge of a “Christian” calendar. Indeed, we not only neglected it but opposed it, at least those that had any public consciousness such as Christmas and Easter. Galatians 4:10 was almost a rallying cry.

At one level I understand that opposition since all time is God’s time. Is there a need for “special” days or “holy days”? At another level, if someone wants to keep a day to God, let them honor God. Does not Romans 14:5-8 give a person that liberty?

But neither of those considerations really get to what I think is the root value of living within a Christian calendar. Consider Israel (as Paul tells us to do in 1 Corinthians 10:16). The Torah (e.g., Leviticus 23) gave Israel a rhythm of life that rooted their calendar in the mighty acts of God in nature and history. The Sabbath reminded them of God’s creative (Genesis 1-2) and redemptive (Deuteronomy 5:12-15) work for them. The Passover relives the Exodus from Egyptian slavery, the Pentecost celebrates the winter harvest, the Feast of Tabernacles remembers their wilderness experience, and the Day of Atonement receives the forgiveness of sins. Israel’s calendar grounded their lives in the story of God.

The Christian calendar roots life in the story of Jesus. The calendar has “seasons” patterned after the life of Jesus so that a Christian may relive the life of Jesus every year. The Season of Advent (Coming) anticipates the birth of Jesus leading to the Christmas season. The Season of Epiphany celebrates the revelation (appearing) of Jesus, particularly his baptism and transfiguration. The Season of Lent (which means “Spring”) is traditionally a season of fasting (thus 40 days) which prepares Christians for Easter. The Easter season begins with Resurrection day and ends at Pentecost as a celebration of life and new creation. Between Pentecost and Advent is “ordinary time” which focuses on living the life of Jesus in day to day ministry and worship.

The calendar gives Christians an opportunity to liturgically and ritually shape their lives by the story of Jesus. It provides a rhythm that lives in the light of God’s gracious redemptive presence and work for us.

Is the calendar necessary? No, no more than a national calendar is. But calendars do have value. They are tools. They provide a framework for living through seasons—whether they are seasons of nature, or seasons of national life, or seasons of Christian life. The Christian calendar reminds us of what God has done for us, calls us to imitate the life of Jesus and focuses our liturgical energies in line with the historic church through its lectionaries.

Ash Wednesday this year is February 17. That is the first day of Lent. The “ashes,” which are placed on the forehead, is a penitential act by which we remember that we are but “dust and ashes.” Lent, then, becomes a season of seeking God and opening our hearts to God in humble submission.

During Lent, believers following the Christian calendar focus on “letting go and seeking God” out of a hunger for God. We “let go” of whatever hinders us in our union with God and we renew practices in our life—and perhaps focus on particular practices for the season—for the sake of spiritual formation and relationship with God.

Questions for Discussion:

1. How is your life “regulated” by different calendars? What “rules” your life in terms of calendars? What do you know about the “Christian” calendar?
2. Read Romans 14:5-8 and Galatians 4:10 together. Is Paul confused? Why the difference? What different situations would result in these two polar opposite admonitions? What was the important point for Paul in both readings?
3. How is the Christian calendar a tool? What would that look like in your life, or how do you use it as a tool? What have you found valuable or problematic?
4. Would you consider attending a Lent “Ash Wednesday” service? What do you think about the potential value of practicing Lent this season? What does “letting go and seeking God” mean to you?

Ten Suggestions for Lent

Lent, a historic part of the Christian calendar, is a season of “letting go” (fasting) and seeking God in humble submission. It is a time for repentance, confession, prayer, abstinence, and sharing our resources with others. It is not a time to simply give up something for the sake of abstinence (e.g., giving up coffee), but to give up something for the sake of replacing it with time with God. Lent is not merely about abstinence but also about replacing that which you are giving up with something positive. The purpose of Lent is not self-improvement but seeking a deeper relationship with God and loving our neighbors.

Lent begins on Ash Wednesday (February 17) and lasts 44 days, which includes 40 days of fasting (giving up something in order to devote time and energies to God) and four Sundays. On Sundays believers enjoy what they have given up in order to celebrate the joy of the resurrection (so if you have given up coffee, you may enjoy it every Sunday throughout Lent!).

Below are ten suggestions from which you might choose in order to practice Lent during this season.

1. Give up Starbucks Coffee or caffeine (including Cokes, Pepsis, etc.) and save the money you would have spent in order to give to some charity.
2. Make a commitment that when you feel the urge to surf the internet, you will replace that with fifteen to thirty minutes of prayer, meditation, reading Scripture, or reading godly material. Instead of surfing, perhaps meditate on Chris Altrock’s 40 days of Lent through praying the prayers of Jesus.
3. Commit to giving up some sleep by rising fifteen minutes (or more) earlier or going to bed fifteen minutes (or more) later to spend time in prayer, meditation, reading Scripture, or reading godly material. You could read the morning or evening Divine Hours or download them free on I-Tunes.
4. Give up television altogether or for a specified time each day (e.g., 8:00-9:00pm) and devote that time to a devotional plan of some sort (e.g., reading Scripture according to the plans Dean Barham has offered). Or, sit silently and listen to music for an hour that takes you into the presence of God for meditation and reflection.
5. Instead of eating out for lunch each day, bag your own lunch; as you prepare your lunch, recite a prayer from memory (e.g., the Lord’s Prayer) and devote the money saved to charity.
6. If your family was planning a major purchase or if your family regularly spends money on unnecessary daily desires (e.g., eating out, renting movies, etc.), delay doing so until after Lent and use the money you would have spent to save for a charitable donation.
7. Every day of Lent write a letter or note to a significant person in your life in order to thank them for their presence in your life, or every day during Lent write a note to a person who needs encouragement or blessing, or every day write a letter of amends to people with whom you have had difficulty. This gives up time you would have spent doing something else and replaces it with loving ministry.
8. For the forty days of Lent, give up time doing something you might normally do to devote to journaling: confess sin, reflect on where God was present in your day, and write a prayer to God.
9. During the forty days of Lent, journey through the story of Jesus with your children by spending fifteen minutes a day reading the Gospel of Luke together or watching a clip from a movie like “Jesus of Nazareth” in order to talk about what you read or saw.
10. Take thirty minutes each day to inventory your house: clean the closets, sort through your clothes, etc. Give to others (e.g., Goodwill) what you have not used in the last year.

And, of course, there are many more possibilities.  Do you have any suggestions?

Salvation: Sector 9

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the ninth sector (9).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Sector 9 identifies salvation as the liberation of the comos from its bondage to decay and destruction. The whole cosmos groans, along with humanity, for relief from the frustration to which the world has been subjected. God saves the comos by renewing it, by ushering in new heavens and a new earth.

The root of this expection is the promise to Abraham. The land, the whole world, is the inheritance of Israel.  The creation belongs to the Son of David, the  Son of God. As co-heirs with Jesus, we, too, are heirs of the world.

Too often Christians have thought they must escape the creation and fly away to glory in heaven.  If, of course, one means that they want to escape the “present evil age” or escape the decaying, destructive powers of death, then I understand their meaning. I, too, want to escape that. But the biblical story is not about escape but redemption. The picture drawn in Revelation in 21 is that  heaven will come down to earth. Then the whole earth will be filled with the glory of God. Heaven will be on earth as heaven and earth are one.

That union of heaven and earth–the union of the dwelling of God with the dwelling of humanity within the creation–is the moment when the glory of God will fill the earth. Everything within it will be called “holy” and the earth will know the righteousness, justice and peace of the fullness of the kingdom of God.

This was the hope of Israel. They yearned for a time of peace and justice, of righteousness and love (hesed). They hoped for a time when the lion and the lamb would lie down together. They expected a time when all the nations would bow before Yahweh. They trusted that God would reign fully in his earth. These are the promises and prophecies that will be fulfilled when God renews the heavens and the earth and comes to dwell with the heirs of the promise.

The goal (telos) of the creation is not annihilation, but redemption.  For some God created materiality in order to ultimately destroy it. In this view God created materiality as some sort of probationary period to prepare people for lliving as purely spiritual beings. Humans, then, reach their goal in spiritual existence without materiality. Consequently, at some point, creation itself will not only be unnecessary but inherently inferior, a lower level of existence.

But this is not the Biblical story that I read. God created the cosmos in which to rest, delight in, and enjoy. He did not create it to snuff it out of existence. Though subjected to frustration, God will redeem it and the resurrected saints will enjoy the harmony, peace and wholeness of both creation and community as they bask in the love of God. Resurrected saints need a resurrected (renew) cosmos in which to dwell with God.

I do not know what that will look like. I’m not sure what resurrected bodies will feel like and look like. I don’t know all that a renewed creation will be or become. But I do think there will be substantial continuity between what is and what will be just as there is continuity between our present bodies and our resurrected ones.  Just as God will redeem our bodies, so he will redeem creation.

Hungering for God (Lent Reflections)

Text: Luke 4:1-13

Lent is forty days of letting go of some of our normal habits in order to pursue God with a special focus. The pursuit of God during these forty days comes in various forms: repentance, meditation, Scripture reading, prayer, immersion in sacred music, communal worship, almsgiving, etc. Lent was originally named “Forty Days” (quadragesima) and only became known as “Lent” (meaning Spring) in later years.

Lent is a season where we, in some sense and to some degree, follow Jesus into the wilderness for forty days. We followed Jesus into the waters of baptism and so now, in the narrative of Luke, we follow Jesus into the wilderness. Before Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness, Moses spent forty days on the mountain with God (Exodus 32; Deuteronomy 9:9), Israel spent forty years in the wilderness where God probed and tested their hearts (Deuteronomy 8:1-5) and Elijah devoted forty days to God at Mt. Sinai (1 Kings 9:8).

It is not surprising, then, that the ancient church decided “forty” was a good number for a season of renewed dedication to God. The roots of this practice are baptismal, though there are also penitential backgrounds where those seeking reunion with the community fasted for a period of time. Those preparing for baptism would spend a specified time (usually three days or 40 hours) fasting. As Easter Eve became an annual baptism festival, the practice of “forty days” of preparation emerged. Eventually, the whole church was invited to fast for forty days before Easter (late fourth century). The form of this fasting varied and was not necessarily a total fast on every day of the forty. Indeed, the tradition arose that Sundays during Lent were “mini-Easters” which celebrated the resurrection of Jesus and thus were not fast days. Consequently, “Ash Wednesday” arose in the West (probably eighth century) as a way of adding days to compensate for the loss of fast days due to Sunda. This kept the number of fast days at forty. It is called “Ash” Wednesday because ashes are used as symbols of penitence and death as we humble ourselves in preparation for the Forty Days.

The Forty Days, most significantly, connects believers with the life of Jesus as they join Jesus in the wilderness in some small measure. Just as Jesus was led to fast for forty days, so believers seek to follow Jesus into the wilderness for forty days. It is a specified time dedicated to seeking God. It was valuable for Jesus, and many believers find it valuable for their own relationship with the Father.

Though Jesus had regular habits of spiritual discipline (e.g., being alone with God), it was nevertheless important for Jesus to experience these forty days as a way of probing his own heart, being tested by Satan, and hungering after God. We, too, need special moments, days or seasons to devote ourselves to probing, testing and hungering. Lent is a season which many believers choose to practice for this very purpose.

What did Jesus discover about himself in these days of probing, testing and hungering? He learned existentially what perhaps he only knew provisionally or intellectually previously. He learned to feed on the word of God rather than bread. He learned that devotion to God is more important than power among the nations. He learned trusting God rather than testing God is the way to peace and joy. He experienced the wilderness—he experienced his faith in action as he connected with the Father and his own soul.

He had other options. Satan provided opportunity and attempted persuasion. But Jesus chose God. He quoted Scripture, but the effect of quoting Scripture was not the cognitive information he articulated. Rather, Scripture pointed to God. Jesus hungered for God rather than food, power or fame.

Jesus chose the way of the cross rather than the spectacular, the power and the luxury. He owned his baptismal vocation when he rejected the Satanic offers and embraced his identity as Son of God.

Lent is an opportunity, not an obligation. No one is forced to practice the Forty Days. We are led into it for the sake of embracing our vocational identity as children of God. These are days when we seek and hunger after God; days when we spend time with Jesus in the wilderness; days when we, too, may discover again our own souls, own our baptism and encounter God anew.

1. Read the text of Luke 4:1-13 slowly several times. What are the significant lines and repeated ideas in the text?
2. How do you think Jesus experienced the different temptations or testings? What was the draw or allure of each?
3. What do you think Jesus “learned” through this experience? Why was it important for the Spirit to lead Jesus into the wilderness? Why do we need wildernesses in our own faith journey?
4. How does Lent pattern itself after Jesus’ own experience? How does this deepen the significance and importance of Lent for those who choose to practice it? How is Lent similar and dissimilar to the experience of Jesus?

An Amplified Narration: Genesis 15

[Genesis 15 is one of the Lenten texts in the Lectionary this week. Studying and reflecting on this text, I developed an expanded narration. I offer it here in preparation for my Lenten reflections on the this text which I hope to post mid-week. Blessings.]

Text: Genesis 15:1-18

After these things….after Lot had separated from Abram, after Abram defeated the kings, after Abram tithed to Melchizedek….the word of Yahweh came to Abram in a vision.

Yahweh: “Abram, my beloved, don’t be afraid. Why are you so afraid of the future? What do you fear? I am your protector and defender, and your blessings will be incalculable. Trust me, my child.”

Abram: “Yahweh, you are sovereign. Thank you for your gifts. They have been many. But I had hoped for a child who would inherit all that you have given me, and you promised a child. I am confused, but perhaps you intend—according to the custom of my fathers—that my chief servant Eliezer from Damascus will become my heir. I don’t see any other alternative. This is my lament, Yahweh, that a slave born in my house will become my heir. Is this your promise? Is this your great reward? What are all your other blessings when I am childless?”

Yahweh: “Abram, my beloved, Eliezer will not be your heir. My purpose for you is greater than you can imagine. You will have your own children from your own body. Your seed will bless the nations. Trust me, my child.”

Yahweh brought Abram outside.

Yahweh: “Look at the sky, Abram. Can you count the stars? Do you see how numerous they are? They are beyond counting.”

Yahweh pauses to let Abram soak in the beauty of the starry night and the beauty of the heavens.

Yahweh: “Your descendants, my beloved, will be as numerous as the stars you see tonight. This is my promise to you. Trust me, my child.”

Abram trusted Yahweh’s promise and Yahweh accepted Abram’s faith. Their relationship was sealed.

Yahweh: “Abram, my beloved, there is more to my promise—more than a starry host of children. Your descendants will live in this land, the land you now traverse as a nomad. As certainly as I, Yahweh, brought you out of the Ur of the Chaldeans, so I will give your seed this land as their home. Your descendents will fill this land, enjoy its fruits and live with me in it.”

Abram: “Yahweh, you are sovereign. But really? How can I be sure? I believe but it is unbelievable. I am but a nomadic herdsman; I have no land. How can this ever come true? What assurance do I have that you will keep your promise? Help my unbelief.”

Yahweh: “Abram, my beloved, select some animals from your herds and flocks for sacrifice. Devote to me a three year old heifer, a three year old female goat, and a three year old ram. I know these are expensive gifts, but I want to assure you that I will keep my promise. Also, give me a dove and a pigeon.”

Abram did as Yahweh asked. He sacrificed the heifer, goat and ram by cutting them into halves. He laid the halves out on the ground so that a person could walk between them. But he did not kill the birds as they will be released to fly into the heavens as a sign of the promise when the covenant is ratified.

Then Abram waited…and waited…fighting off vultures that wanted to eat the carcasses…and waited. Maybe the vultures are the assaults on Abram’s faith…and he waited. Maybe the vultures represent the future struggles of his descendants…and he waited. In hopeful expectation, he waited. And then he fell asleep just as the sun was going down.

But this was no normal sleep. Something happened to Abram. Just as Adam despaired of companionship and God caused a deep sleep to fall upon him in the Garden of Eden, so Abram falls into a deep, ominous sleep struggling with doubt and fear about his future.

Sleeping, God shows up. Abram is surrounded by a terrifying deep darkness. A portentous darkness besieges Abram. But God inhabits this darkness. Everything quakes before divine presence as the darkness moves every creature to bow before it. Abram’s sleep is saturated with the awe-inspiring presence of God. Abram encounters God.

Yahweh: “Know this, my beloved. Let it sink deep into your heart; let it erode all doubt. This is what will happen in the future. Your descendants will be enslaved for 400 years as aliens in a foreign land. They will suffer horrendous oppression. But, when it is time to judge the Amorites who now possess the land in which you live, I will remember my promise to you, and I will both judge the nation that oppressed your children and I will liberate them from their slavery. I will bring them to this land—the land which you now roam, and I will give the land to them. This, my beloved, is your inheritance. The land belongs to you and your seed. Don’t be afraid, Abram, you will die peacefully at a good old age and rest with your ancestors in this land. Trust me, my child.”

After sunset and when darkness had settled in for the night, God showed up. Here is the assurance for which Abram asked. Yahweh, in the form of a smoking pot and a flaming torch, passed between the halves of the sacrificed animals. Just as in the future Yahweh would personally lead Abram’s children out of Egypt as a cloud by day and a fire by night, so Yahweh came to Abram in the darkness as smoke and fire. The divine presence ratified the covenant with a self-imprecation.

Yahweh: “Abram, my beloved, if I fail to keep this promise, may what happened to these animals happen to me. Your inheritance is as certain as my very existence. Trust me, my child.”

And the dove and pigeon were released.

That day Yahweh cut a covenant with Abram. That day Yahweh promised to give the land of the Amorites, Canaanites, etc., to Abram’s descendants.

Abram believed Yahweh.

And Yahweh kept his promise.

Hungering for the Future (Lenten Reflections on Genesis 15)

Text: Genesis 15:1-18

[For an amplified narration of Genesis 15 read my previous post.]

Abraham waited for a child. And then his descendants waited 400 years in slavery for the land. Waiting is part of every believer’s journey. The Psalms overflow with the language (e.g., Psalm 25). “Wait for Yahweh,” the Psalmist writes (Psalm 27:14). The apostle Paul characterized our life between the ages—the present age and the age to come—as waiting (Romans 8:25).

But waiting is precarious. It doesn’t always feel safe. Indeed, it is perilous at times and often uncertain. Waiting is painful. Waiting opens the door to fear. Waiting tests faith.

Abram, the father of faith, was tested by the wait. Promised that his seed would bless all nations (Genesis 12:3) and though prosperous in possessions as well as victorious in battle, he was frustrated that he had no heir. “What good are all these gifts and promises when I have no son?” Abram asked. “You will have a son,” Yahweh assured him, “and they will be as numerous as the stars of the sky.” The stars gave him a way to connect with the word of the Lord. Assured, he trusted God.

Yet, when God promised Abram that his descendents would live in the land where he only sojourned, Abram’s faith was restless. “How can I be sure that this will come true?” Abram asked. More waiting? Faith can only take on so much and then it begins to wonder and perhaps wander. Faith needs something to hold onto, something to grasp. Faith needs something concrete, physical, material.

God, gracious with our weaknesses (we are dust) and accommodative to our needs (we are flesh), gave Abram’s faith something concrete. It was a symbol, but more than a symbol. It was physical, but deeply connected to the reality of God’s own Spirit. It was material, but it was not mere dust.

God “cut a covenant” with Abram. Animals sacrificed and cut into halves. Birds released into the air. A covenant was ratified; a promise was made. And God passed between the halves—not in mere symbol, but as a smoldering pot and a flaming torch. God was present between the halves, just as he was present at the Red Sea and in the wilderness with Israel (cloud and fire). God assured Abram by a self-imprecation. “As surely as I pass between these halves, may what happened to these animals happen to me if I do not keep my promise.” Abram tasted the future in that moment.

The covenant gave Abram a taste of the future but it did not take away his hunger for that future. Abram still waits—sometimes fearfully, sometimes expectedly—but he waits for what is to come. The covenant reassures, removes fear, and emboldens faith. Abrahm believed and his relationship with God was sealed.

During the season of Lent our wait is accentuated. We wait for Easter. As we follow Jesus into the wilderness for forty days, we also anticipate the future for which Jesus waited. We learn to hunger again for the future as we wait for Easter. By faith we lean into the future.

Lent is not about doom and gloom. It is punctuated with the future as we pass through each Sunday, each “mini-Easter” (if you please). On Sunday—resurrection day, the first day of the week—we get a taste of the future. It is a day to relax our Lenten restrictions. (That is why Lent is not about giving up sin! We are supposed to have already done that. Rather it is about giving up some normalcy, some comfort, in order to pursue God in a focused way.) It is a day to experience the future—the coming of Easter, but also the coming new heaven and new earth in the resurrection.

We do not fast on Sunday because on that day we eat the Supper of the Lord. We eat the body and drink the blood of Jesus. It is symbol, but more than symbol. It is physical, but deeply connected to the reality symbolized by God’s own Spirit. It is material, but it is not mere dust. The bread we break is a participation in the body of Jesus and the cup which we drink is a participation in his blood (1 Corinthians 10:16). It is covenant in the body and blood of Jesus.

God “cut a covenant” with us at the cross of Jesus and promised us a future in the resurrection. When we eat and drink, we are assured of that future. We eat and drink with the Living Christ and sit with him at the right hand of the Father. And he promises us that we will live and reign with him in the new heavens and new earth. At the Lord’s Table we taste the future but yet hunger for it. We hunger for Easter, not just that single Sunday every year, but for the Easter that will unveil the new heavens and new earth. That Easter will unveil our transformed bodies when God reaps the full resurrection harvest.

And, with Abram, our faith testifies that it is worth the wait.

Discussion Questions:

1. Where do you see fear and faith, uncertainty and waiting, in the text of Genesis 15?
2. Why does God come to Abram to assure him? Is faith something that should not need such assurances?
3. For what do we “wait” during Lent? What characterizes our wait? How does symbolize our life in Christ as a whole even when we are not practicing Lent?
4. Do you experience the Lord’s Supper as assurance? What is the nature of that assurance? How is faith strengthened through eating and drinking?

Hear the Invitation (Lenten Reflections on Isaiah 55)

Text: Isaiah 55

Come, listen, look and seek. Those are the main imperatives of Isaiah’s invitation.

The message of Isaiah since chapter 40 has been deliverance. Just as God liberated Israel from Egyptian slavery, so now God is acting to deliver Israel from Babylonian exile. God’s chosen servant has suffered the punishment of the exile (Isaiah 53) and now God renews his covenant with his people. “Do not fear,” Yahweh declares, for Israel will no longer remember its shame because God is their redeemer (Isaiah 54:4-5).

So, the invitation goes out to Israel. Come, listen, look and seek. Hear the invitation!

COME! Three times Yahweh bids “come” (55:1). Whoever is thirsty, come and drink. Whoever is hungry, come and eat. It is Israel’s wilderness experience again. God will provide just as he did when Israel left Egypt. Come, eat and drink what is real rather than settle for the illusions of prosperity, success and comfort in Babylon. Come, enjoy what God gives rather than trusting in what you have accomplished. Come, experience God rather than counting on your own achievements.

LISTEN! Three times Yahweh pleads “listen” (55:2-3). Listen, really listen, to the invitation. Don’t be deceived by what seems good, pleasing and viable. Only what God offers is truly good, delightful and life-giving. Listen to the good news that God offers. What God offers is everlasting, eternal—it is an everlasting covenant or relationship. It is not temporary, fleeting and momentary. It is permanent and unchanging.

LOOK! Twice Yahweh implores “see” (behold, look; 55:4-5). See what? Look to the past. Look to the covenant God made with David. Remember how God made David a witness among the nations, a leader among the peoples. God took a shepherd boy and made him a world power. God can do it again! Look to the future! Israel will call the nations to God and the nations will come to Israel for salvation because God has chosen Israel. The future holds the promise of God. Trust him.

SEEK! Once, but with finality and urgency, Yahweh begs his people to “seek” him (55:6). Pursue God—call on him. Let go—forsake evil. Let go and let God.

This is the message of Lent. Those who practice Lent hear this again and again through their forty days of devoted pursuit. We let go—we let go of stuff, normalcy, comforts, food…whatever discipline we have chosen….in order to pursue God through prayer, meditation, silence, sacred reading, almsgiving…whatever discipline we have chosen…that we might find God.

Isaiah 55 assures us that when we let go and pursue, God finds us. God is near; God is available. Our pursuit is not in vain. God comes in mercy and forgiveness (55:7). We will never comprehend God’s grace nor his purposes, but we can embrace the communion God offers.

The invitation—come, listen, look, and seek—is an effective one. When we respond, God will accomplish his purpose for us. The invitation is not weak but powerful. God’s deliverance and salvation is not in doubt. Israel will leave Babylon in joy and peace. Creation itself will rejoice in what God does and pave the way for Israel’s return. Moreover, the return from exile is an everlasting, eternal sign of God’s faithful commitment to his covenant.

As we pursue Lent—as we let go and seek God—we are assured of the results. God will work among us, in us and through us. God is present to restore, redeem and renew. We “fast,” not for some fleeting achievement or fame, but we “fast” to know God.

Our Lenten season—our trek through the wilderness—ends at Easter. The one who paid the price of our exile is the same one who was raised from the dead. When we seek God, we will walk into a life of peace delivered to us by the death and resurrection of Jesus. This is our Lenten walk and our Easter deliverance.

Discussion Questions:

1. What does it mean in your life to hear the invitation “Come”? What must you leave in order to go?
2. What does it mean in your life to hear the invitation “Listen”? What distracts us from hearing the good news?
3. What does it mean in your life to hear the invitation “See”? What do we “see” and how does it shape our life? Does it often lead you to fear rather than faith?
4. What does it mean in your life to hear the invitation “Seek”? In what ways are you seeking God in your life? What does that mean in practical terms?
5. How do you practice “Let go and Let God “ in your life?

Rebaptism and the Division of the McGregor, Texas, Church (1897)

The story of the division of “The Christian Church of McGregor” in McGregor, Texas, near Waco, is of particular significance for several reasons. Organized on August 25, 1883, it divided on September 23, 1897. The division resulted in two groups: “The First Christian Church of McGregor” and “the Church of Christ” (the capital letters are conservatives own self-designation). The conservatives changed the locks on the building and prevented progressives from meeting in it. The progressives filed suit which was ultimately decided in favor of the progressives by the Supreme Court of Texas. This is a division initiated by the conservatives. The story is told in W. K. Homan’s The Church on Trial or the Old Faith Vindicated (1900) which contains court transcripts.  You can read the court decision here.

But, historically and theologically, the most interesting aspect of the division was the prominence of the rebaptism issue. G. A. Trott (1855-1930), who would later become one of the editors of the Firm Foundation in the first decade of the 20th century and then one of the founders of the The Apostolic Way (1913) which promoted the non-class viewpoint, played a prominent role in the division and the court case. Trott was one of three who secured the building with new locks. Trott, who was the preacher for the church, had only come to the city eighteen months prior and had been appointed an elder of the “The Christian Church of McGregor” without a congregational vote (Homan, pp. 51, 93-94).

The rebaptism question, whether one must believe that baptism is for salvation (“for the remission of sins”) in order to be scripturally baptized, was one of the significant issues in the division and in the court trial. Some were refusing to admit into membership those who had been previously immersed on faith in Christ. Elder R. M. Peace stated at the trial that “if one should present himself for membership in the church of which I am an elder, stating that he believed baptism to be because of the remission of sins, and not for an in order to the remission of sins, I would not regard him as a Christian” (Homan, p. 52). Peace explained that they “would receive persons baptized by preachers of other religious bodies, if they had been immersed for the remission of sins—that is, if they believed at the time of their baptism that baptism was for the remission of sins.” And though his lawyers were Baptists, Peace further remarked that “We do not recognize Baptists as Christians” (Homan, p. 50).

What becomes obvious in this trial is that the rebaptism issue was applied as a test of fellowship by Trott and others. Under cross-examination, Trott made this very clear as the extended quote below demonstrates (Homan, pp. 54-55).

I belong to the Church of Christ. I do not belong to the Christian Church…I would not hold membership in a church were such things are practiced music, missionary societies, conventions, etc. I regard all who engage in such things as in sin. I agree with what is called the Firm Foundation faction…..It is the view of those called the Firm Foundation faction that no one has been scripturally baptized unless he understood at the time of his baptism that baptism is for, that is in order to, the remission of sins. They do not regard as Christians those who did not so understand and believe at the time of their baptism…I do not regard Baptists, Methodists or Presbyterians as Christians, because they have not been immersed for the remission of sins—that is, with the understanding on their part that baptism is for the remission of sins. Should I find persons holding membership in the church who did not believe at the time of their baptism that baptism is for the remission of sins, I would insist upon withdrawing from them—that is, excluding them from the church. It is a fact that I found three such persons in the church at Rising Star, Texas, where I preached, and I advised the church to exclude them, and they were excluded on the sole ground that at the time of their baptism they did not believe that baptism is for the remission of sins.

Trott locked the doors of the building against the progressives partly because they would admit people to the church whom he did not believe were Christians and partly because they supported a visiting Christian Church evangelist, B. B. Sanders, in a recent revival. Up to that point, the church had not used the organ or participated as a corporate body in the conventions and societies, though some members did as individuals (for which they were rebuked but not excluded). The court case was largely argued in reference to the rebaptism question, though other issues were present and the practice of the “innovations” quickly emerged after the division of the church into two groups.

Historically, this points to the intense convictions held by some on the rebaptism question and their divisive—even sectarian—nature. Were David Lipscomb and Trott to serve the same congregation as elders, the church would divide because Lipscomb would admit those immersed upon faith in Jesus whereas Trott could not hold membership in a congregation that did such.

Rebaptism was a fellowship issue in the divisive discussions between what became the Churches of Christ and the Disciples of Christ or Christian Church in Texas. It was not a divisive issue between those two groups in Tennessee.

Rebaptism and the Division of the McGregor, Texas, Church (1897)

The story of the division of “The Christian Church of McGregor” in McGregor, Texas, near Waco, is of particular significance for several reasons. Organized on August 25, 1883, it divided on September 23, 1897. The division resulted in two groups: “The First Christian Church of McGregor” and “the Church of Christ” (the capital letters are conservatives own self-designation). The conservatives changed the locks on the building and prevented progressives from meeting in it. The progressives filed suit which was ultimately decided in favor of the progressives by the Supreme Court of Texas. The story is told in W. K. Homan’s The Church on Trial or the Old Faith Vindicated (1900). You can read the court decision here. 

But, historically and theologically, the most interesting aspect of the division was the prominence of the rebaptism issue. G. A. Trott (1855-1930), who would later become one of the editors the Firm Foundation in the first decade of the 20th century and then one of the founders of the The Apostolic Way (1913) which promoted the non-class viewpoint, played a prominent role in the division and the court case. Trott was one of three who secured the building with new locks. Trott, who had been preaching for the church for eighteen months and had been appointed an elder of the “The Christian Church of McGregor” without a congregational vote (Holman, pp. 51, 94).  [Thanks to Jon Mark Smith, present minister for the McGregor Church of Christ,  for the pictures of the McGregor bulding as it now (2010) appears though it is no longer in the possession of a Stone-Campbell congregation now.]

The rebaptism question, whether one must believe that baptism is for salvation (“for the remission of sins”) in order to be scripturally baptized, was one of the significant issues in the division and in the court trial. Some edlers refused to admit into membership those who had been previously immersed on faith in Christ. Elder R. M. Peace stated at the trial that “if one should present himself for membership in the church of which I am an elder, stating that he believed baptism to be because of the remission of sins, and not for an in order to the remission of sins, I would not regard him as a Christian” (Holman, p. 52). Peace explained that they “would receive persons baptized by preachers of other religious bodies, if they had been immersed for the remission of sins—that is, if they believed at the time of their baptism that baptism was for the remission of sins.” And though his lawyers were Baptists, Peace further remarked that “We do not recognize Baptists as Christians” (Holman, p. 50).

What becomes obvious in this trial is that rebaptism was applied as a test of fellowship by Trott and others. Under cross-examination, Trott made this very clear as the extended quote below demonstrates (Holman, pp. 54-55).

I belong to the Church of Christ. Do not belong to the Christian Church…I would not hold membership in a church were such things are practiced music, missionary societies, conventions, etc. I regard all who engage in such things as in sin. I agree with what is called the Firm Foundation faction…..It is the view of those called the Firm Foundation faction that no one has been scripturally baptized unless he understood at the time of his baptism that baptism is for, that is in order to, the remission of sins. They do not regard as Christians those who did not so understand and believe at the time of their baptism…I do not regard Baptists, Methodists or Presbyterians as Christians, because they have not been immersed for the remission of sins—that is, with the understanding on their part that baptism is for the remission of sins. Should I find persons holding membership in the church who did not believe at the time of their baptism that baptism is for the remission of sins, I would insist upon withdrawing from them—that is, excluding them from the church. It is a fact that I found three such persons in the church at Rising Star, Texas, where I preached, and I advised the church to exclude them, and they were excluded on the sole ground that at the time of their baptism they did not believe that baptism is for the remission of sins.

Trott locked the doors of the building against the progressives partly because they would admit people to the church whom he did not believe were Christians and partly because they supported a visiting Christian Church evangelist, B. B. Sanders, in a recent revival. Up to that point, the church had not used the organ or participated as a corporate body in the conventions and societies, though some members did as individuals (for which they were rebuked but not excluded). The court case was largely argued in reference to the rebaptism question, though other issues were present and the practice of the “innovations” quickly emerged after the division of the church into two groups.

Historically, this points to the intense convictions held by some on the rebaptism question and their divisive—even sectarian—nature. Were David Lipscomb and Trott to serve the same congregation as elders, the church would divide because Lipscomb would admit those immersed upon faith in Jesus whereas Trott could not hold membership in a congregation that did such.

Hungering For the Joy: Lenten Reflections on Joshua 5

Text: Joshua 5:19-12

[This is part of a small group series for the Woodmont Hills Church in Nashville, TN, which is prepared in conjunction with Dean Barham's homilies that are based on the Lectionary texts for Lent.]

A new generation had emerged during the wilderness trek. Their parents had refused to enter to the promise land because they were afraid and lacked faith in God’s promises. This new generation, however, had been humbled, tested and refined by their time in the wilderness (Deuteronomy 8:1-5).

This new generation, however, had never been circumcised nor celebrated the Passover throughout their whole time in the wilderness. Though they had been watered and fed by God, though they had seen manna—the bread of heaven—rain daily from the sky, they had not been fully vetted in the covenantal experience. They were Israel, but they had not yet covenanted with God.

The movement from Shittim to Gilgal has changed that. This generation now has its own Exodus experience—they walked across the Jordan on dry ground (Joshua 3). They consecrated themselves, walked by faith and camped at Gilgal. They have their own Moses—Joshua, who has his own “holy ground” experience near Jericho (5:13-15). The ark of the covenant, the mercy and presence of God, secured their passage.

Gilgal, that is what they named the place where they camped. The Hebrew verb galal means to “roll” and their encampment on the west bank of the Jordan was a witness that the Egyptians were wrong. They had mocked and ridiculed Israel for launching out into the desert, but their encampment in the promised land had “rolled away” that disgrace. By the grace and provision of God, they had made it!

They had entered the promised land but they had not yet possessed it. It belonged to them but it was not yet in their hands. They were on the “other side” (of the Jordan) but they did not yet made their home in the land.

Now, in this “no man’s land,” they covenanted with God. The men were circumcised at Gibeath-haaraloth (look that one up!). It was as if they were at Mt. Sinai all over again. God renewed his covenant with his people. They celebrated the Passover for the first time in forty years. They had experienced their own exodus in crossing the Jordan and as covenanted people they celebrated the love of God for his people by observing the Passover. The communal acts of circumcision and Passover were the final acts of the wilderness but the first acts of the promise. It was covenant and feast, a celebration of God’s redemption!

This was a transition moment. The wilderness wandering is over but the promised land is not theirs. But now they were no longer a nomadic people, now they had entered the land in which they would plant crops and live in houses instead of tents. They would no longer depend on manna for their bread but would eat from the produce of the land in which they lived. But the fullness of joy was not yet theirs as they looked at the imposing walls of Jericho and the other walled cities of Canaan. The fullness of the promise was yet future but the goodness of Gilgal was sweet. Israel still lived, at this moment, between the Jordan and Jericho.

The season of Lent is something like that. It is the anticipation of joy but the sweetness of divine presence. It is a season when the covenant people of God learn again the lessons of the wilderness and the joy of the exodus, but also yearn for the fullness of the promised land. It is living between the times—between the baptism of Jesus and his Easter.

Lent is a season to watch our past roll away and become something new. God removes the disgrace of his people and offers a new beginning in a new land. Ritual marks the new beginning—waters of Jordan, covenantal dedication and feast. It is typological of Christian rituals—baptism, Lent and Lord’s Supper. We relive the story of Israel within the story of Jesus.

The promise will come. The joy of dwelling in the land will come and is already here. The disgrace has been removed and the land is coming into their—and our—possession. We no longer live in shame but in hope. This is part of the meaning of Lent.

Discussion Questions

1. What meaning or significance to do you see in the major events of Israel’s life in this section of Joshua (chapters 3-5)?
2. Why is circumcision and Passover emphasized here? What do these mean to Israel?
3. What is the significance of living “between the times” for both Israel and us?
4. How does this story give you a perspective for living through the season of Lent? How does this text impact your Lenten season?

The Practice of the Table in 20th Century Churches of Christ

On September 30, 1915 A. B. Lipscomb, the editor of the Gospel Advocate, published a special issue on the Lord’s Supper. These articles, with various additions, were printed as a pamphlet by the Gospel Advocate Company five times from 1917 to 1972. As a guide to the meaning and celebration of the Lord’s Supper, including model “Table Talks,” it provides a relevant case study for the theology and practice of the Lord’s Supper among Churches of Christ in the early 20th century.

Churches of Christ have generally focused on two dimensions of table theology. The Lord’s Supper is commemorative (memorial, monumental) and declarative (testimonial, proclamation). Both of these are primarily cognitive and anthropocentric categories. We remember and we proclaim. Through this cognitive process, we contemplate the death of Christ and when we do this together we proclaim the Lord’s death.

Others, however, did insist on a spiritual dynamic, a means of grace, through eating and drinking at the Lord’s Table. James A. Harding identified Scripture reading, fellowship with the poor, the Lord’s Supper, and prayer as means of grace through which God “transform[s] poor, frail, sinful human being[s] into the likeness of Christ.” E. A. Elam and E. G. Sewell, heirs to the Lipscomb-Harding emphases, both used this language frequently. The spiritual dynamic is a healthy one in these writers.

Using Around the Lord’s Table as an example of the theological matrix in which Churches of Christ observed the Supper during the 20th Century, I note below several dominant characteristics that run through most, if not all, twenty-seven contributors who range from Texas to Tennessee and from Georgia to Kentucky. The theology and practice of the Supper among 20th Century Churches of Christ may be characterized as: (1) cognitive/mental; (2) introspective/penitential; (3) vertical/individual; and (4) legal. The function of the table is fundamentally to bring the cross into full view and through the eye of understanding to experience the agony, suffering and sorrow of the death of Jesus. Noting that the “purpose” of the Lord’s Supper is “strictly monumental and commemorative,” M. C. Kurfees suggests that the participant—“on the wings of memory”—is led to the “somber shades and gloom of Gethsemane and by the cruel cross of Calvary, where, amid earthquake shocks and supernatural darkness, the story of ineffable love is told in agony and suffering.” There the communicants linger, remember and commune (by memory) with the Lord.

Cognitive and Mental. Silent “solemn contemplation” is the primary mode in which the Supper is experienced among Churches of Christ. It is a cognitive exercise by which the participant “by the eye of faith” sees “the awful suffering of our Savior that day as he was subjected to the humiliating indignities that culminated in his ignoble death on the cruel Roman cross.” Through “remembering, reflecting, visualizing” we focus on the cross rather than the “entire scope of the earth-life of” Jesus. We “remember the cross.” The intensity of this moment means that “the worshipper,” Chessor believes, “who has the greater power of concentration and reflection, and who employs that faculty, will be able to get greater spiritual benefits.” The Lord’s Supper, according to A. B. Barrett, is the “solemn moment of the worship when…our minds are carried back to Calvary to see anew the passion of the Lamb of God.” Through this “memorial service” we “picture the sufferings of Christ.” Indeed, to “fail” to discern the Lord’s body by “think[ing] of him as he suffered upon the cross while we engage in this communion of his body and his blood” is to condemn ourselves since the Supper “commemorates the tragedy of Calvary.”

Introspective and Penitential. Churches of Christ have generally understood that eating and drinking is a time of “godly fear and self-examination.” Indeed, the “worthy manner” of eating and drinking is “to picture the sufferings of Christ in the agony of the garden and in his crucifixion” which constitutes the “proper attitude” that “make[s] the individual worship acceptable to the Lord.” The “examination prescribed by Paul is for the purpose of bringing our thoughts into control, so that we may eat and drink in the proper spirit and attitude.” It is a moment to “see to it that we ourselves are in covenant relation with Christ and on praying terms with God.”

Vertical and Individual. With an emphasis on silence, solemnity and contemplation, it is not surprising to find an individualistic and vertical emphasis. The horizontal dimension is almost completely absent. Indeed, W. E. Brightwell bluntly states that “our communion is with the Lord. There is [horizontal] fellowship, but that is only accidental.” R. L. Whiteside is even more blunt: “In worship people do not commune with one another…In the worship our communion should be with the divine being.” However, this is not uniform perspective. Trice believes that even in the “solemn silence” there is “sweet fellowship with each other and with the heavenly Father.”

Legal Test of Loyalty. Churches of Christ, perhaps more than the other streams of the Stone-Campbell Movement, emphasized the legal “sacred duty” to eat and drink weekly in commemoration of the Lord’s death. We embraced the language that the Lord’s Supper is a “positive appointment” which functions as an “acid test” of our love. The “observance of the ordinance tells in large measure who is on the Lord’s side, and vice versa.” It functions as a “test of loyalty.” “Can a church member say he is fighting the good fight and keeping the faith, and at the same time,” Wrye asks, “ignore, neglect, or forget to obey this positive command?” Thus, it is the “duty” of every Christian “to proclaim the death of our Lord in a faithful observance of the Lord’s Supper on every first day of the week.” Further, our observance “cannot do anything [the Bible] does not require, and…must do all it does require.” Consequently, we should follow the model in Scripture as close as possible since it is “safe.” Indeed, if we neglect the duty of weekly communion, “we have no promise of salvation should we die” in that neglect. It is “safe” to eat weekly. Churches of Christ come by this attitude naturally—it is embedded in our consciousness at least from the time of Tolbert Fanning  in the mid-19th Century who wrote, “Without its weekly observance no one can worship God acceptably, or promise himself the eternal rewards of Christians.”

These elements have shaped the practice of Churches of Christ in the 20th Century. There is no movement among those who eat and drink other than the servers. Communicants are served as they sit silently in their pews in contemplation of the cross of Christ. There they “silently, solemnly, sublimely” proclaim the Lord’s death till he comes. In other words, it is an anthropocentric and individualistic legal duty performed in memory and proclamation of the death of Jesus.

[If you are interested in the source of the citations and documentation, you may read the full article upon which this post is based here.]

The Egyptian Hallel and the Lord’s Supper (Psalm 113-118)

The New Testament offers little liturgical help for conducting the Lord’s Supper. This is especially true regarding hymnology. No account of the Lord’s Supper, except the Last Supper itself, connects music and the Supper (Matthew 28:30). Other than the fact that the Jerusalem community praised God as they ate—and presumably this included songs as well as prayers or some mixtue of the two as in chants (Acts 2:46-47), there is no other explicit linkage between the Lord’s Supper and the ministry of music.

However, we are not left without guidance if we take seriously the redemptive-historical trajectory of Israel’s festivals and the future Messianic banquet. We have significant information about the relationship between these meals and the music that surrounded them in the context of both Israel’s table and the future table. This post will look at the musical dimensions of the Passover at the time of Jesus, and my next post will focus on the future table through the lens of the Apocalypse and the Messianic banquet. 

The use of the Psalms has a long history in Christian worship. More specifically, the use of Psalms in connection with the Lord’s Supper is quite prominent. However, my interest is specifically the Psalms that were used in the context of the Passover as a window into the nature of the redemptive celebration that should accompany the Lord’s Supper. As a fulfillment of the Passover, the Lord’s Supper is directly linked to the liturgical assemblies of Israel and thus we should ask the question: What did Israel sing at the Passover?

Psalms 113-118 constitute the Hallel (Praise) of the Jewish festivals. It appears that during the Jewish Passover meal of the first century, Psalms 113-114 were sung before the final meal blessing and Psalms 115-118 were sung after the final blessing. These were most probably the hymns that Jesus and his disciples sang in the context of their Passover (cf. Matthew 26:30; Mark 14:26). The theology of these songs is directly related to the theology of both the Passover and the Lord’s Supper.

Psalms 113-118 are all thanksgiving songs. Israel sang them as thanksgiving for God’s redemptive deliverance of Israel from Egyptian bondage. They remembered and rejoiced over the Exodus. Israel also sang them in anticipation of the Messiah. Every Passover anticipated the Messianic banquet and thus was filled with hope and expectation for the final deliverance of God’s people.

In Psalm 113 Israel is the barren woman whom God has delivered from Egyptian bondage and given fruitfulness in a new land. God’s redemptive work transforms fallen circumstances. God breaks into the hurt and pain of life with new life. He redeems what is lost. The Psalm opens and ends with a “Hallelujah.”

Psalm 114 rehearses God’s redemption of Israel from Egypt. God acted in history to redeem his people. God came near to redeem. Israel is reminded that their situation is the direct result of God’s gracious work, and they are part of God’s story with the whole earth. The earth is awed by what God is doing in Israel, and Israel is overwhelmed with praise.

Psalm 115 reminds Israel that among the nations only they serve the true God while the nations serve idols. Unlike the idols, God reigns over the earth. God is the help and shield of the people of God. God has remembered his people, so Israel remembers and praises Yahweh. Israel remembers that God has always remembered his people and thus they are confident in their relationship with him.

Psalm 116 gives thanks for God’s redemption whereby he saves his people from death. As one Psalmist remembers God’s work for him in his individual life, the congregation of Israel remembers how God saved them from the bondage of slavery. Through the festivals, Israel makes this individual thanksgiving a communal one. At the Passover, then, Israel lifted the cup of salvation and rejoiced in God’s gift of life. Israel ate the “thanksgiving” offering as it sat at table with God and communed with God. This “thanksgiving” Psalm is offered in the context of a thanksgiving sacrifice. The cup and meal are blessed in the context of a communal communion with God.

Psalm 117 invites all nations to share in the praise of God at the meal. It is a universal table—open to all ethnic groups, all nations. The work of God is universal. The nations learn who God is from his faithful love to Israel and Israel invites the nations to seek God at his temple (cf. aliens at Hezekiah’s Passover in 2 Chronicles 30:25). The temple of God is a house of prayer for all nations (cf. Isaiah 56:7; Mark 11:17).

Psalm 118 gives thanks for God’s deliverance. He saved his people from disaster and their king from death. God has made a new day. He has delivered his people because of his steadfast love. Since God has brought deliverance (it is the day he made), the people engage in self-exhortation: “let us rejoice in it.”

Psalms 113-118 inform the theological meaning and mood of the Lord’s Supper. As the new Passover, the Lord’s Supper remembers God’s redemptive work in Christ, celebrates our liberation from sin and death, and praises Jesus who though rejected by some was redeemed by God. Sunday is the day the Lord has made. It is the day of redemption, thanksgiving and celebration. The table needs hymns that rejoice, remember and give thanks for the new day that God has made. The Psalms reflect the mood of thanksgiving, joy and communion that characterize the theology of the Lord’s Supper. In this way, the Passover hymns provide a guide for the church’s own communion hymns and the mood of its table.

The Lord’s Supper, the Apocalypse and Eucharistic Music

The book of Revelation portrays an eschatological community worshipping the one who sits on the throne. It is eschatological in the sense that Revelation portrays the present and future celebration of God’s redemptive work as it is experienced around the heavenly throne. The present worship of the church participates in the present and future worship of those gathered around the throne of God. The church is lifted up into the throne room to experience glory through a gathered assembly and we receive a foretaste of what it will be like to worship in the new Jerusalem on the new earth.

Revelation is read to an assembled people and John’s vision is received on the “Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1:3, 10). A few see Revelation in the context of a Passover liturgy with the Eucharist as the climax.[1] Others at least understand the liturgical setting of Revelation as a dramatic presentation of heavenly realities—it is heaven’s worship on earth.[2] Indeed, some believe Revelation is key to a biblical theology of music as the church worships around the throne.[3]

Revelation 4 introduces the throne room of God where the one who sits on the throne is surrounded by the angelic hosts as well as the representatives of God’s people (the 24 elders). They praise God for his creative work.

Revelation 5 shifts the focus. Here the Lion of Judah enters the throne room but appears as a Lamb that has been slain. However, the appearance of the blood-stained Lamb does not generate sadness among the heavenly hosts but joy and praise. They experience the slain Lamb as redemptive rather than as horror; it was a joyous event rather than a sad one. They praise the Lamb and ascribe worth, honor, and glory to him. All of heaven–and every creature on earth–breaks out in praise for the redemptive work of the Father and Son.

In Revelation 7 the great multitude that cannot be counted surrounds the throne singing “Salvation belongs to our God.” In Revelation 14 the people of God sing a “new song before the throne” (14:3). It is a song of redemption much like the song of exaltation after the destruction of the Egyptian army in the Red Sea (cf. Ex. 15).  The Lamb stands on Mt. Zion, slain but triumphant. In chapter fifteen, they sing the “song of Moses the servant of God and the song of the Lamb” (15:3): “Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty…All nations will come and worship before you, for your righteous acts have been revealed” (15:3-4). The Passover imagery is unmistakable and there is a new Lamb—slain but triumphant. This is the Lamb Revelation knows and celebrates. The worship of Revelation—and its Passover hymnology—does not leave the Lamb on the cross but rather place him upon his throne as one who had “overcome” and won the victory.

“Hallelujah” only occurs in Revelation in the New Testament, and it occurs in chapter 19 as heaven celebrates the victory of God. It is similar to the refrain in chapters 5 and 7: “salvation and glory and power belong to our God” (19:1). Heaven, the angels, the elders and all nations, cry “Hallelujah…Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready” (19:6-7). The “Hallelujah” is a liturgical connection with Psalm 113-118 and the Passover festival. As a result, everyone is “invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb” (19:9). The “supper” is the same word Paul uses to describe the Lord’s Supper. It is a kind of Messianic banquet.

Theologically, heaven remembers the slain Lamb, but it does not remember him with sadness or solemnity. Rather, heaven rejoices over the victory of the Lamb and invites the redeemed to the supper table. The Lamb has overcome evil through suffering. The Lamb is slain but alive; blood-drench, but victorious. The redemption is won and heaven rejoices. As a result, the saints are invited to the “supper of the Lamb.”

The hymnology of Revelation celebrates God’s redemption in Christ.[4] It is the worship of heaven in which the saints on earth participate through John’s vision. The assembly of the saints upon earth is eschatological in nature—it participates in the heavenly reality. It joins the angelic chorus of praise for the Father and the Son. We sing “Holy, Holy, Holy” with the heavenly hosts–the traditional Sanctus. The church comes to the supper table rejoicing in the victory of the Lamb over Satan and the world.

Perhaps…just perhaps…the hymns of the church at the table should–at least occasionally– reflect the triumphant victory of the Lamb though at the same time the church’s hymnology should also  lament the brokenness of the world still experienced with the saints under the altar (Revelation 6:10). We bring our laments (Fridays) into the presence of God who transforms them into “Hallelujah’s” at the supper of the Lamb (Sundays).

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[1]Cf. Massey Hamilton Shepherd, Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse, Ecumenical Studies in Worship, 6 (Richmond: John Knox Press, 1960).

[2]W. Hulitt Gloer, “Worship God! Liturgical Elements in the Apocalypse,” Review and Expositor 98 (2001), 35-57; Nakhro Mazie, “The Manner of Worship According to the Book of Revelationi,” Bibliotheca Sacra 158 (2001), 165-180; Marianne Meye Thompson, “Worship in the Book of Revelation,” Ex Auditu 8 (1992), 45-54; Donald Guthrie, “Aspects of Worship in the Book of Revelation,” in Worship, Theology and Ministry in the Early Church: Essays in Honor of Ralph P. Martin, ed. Michael J. Wilkins (Sheffield: Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Press, 1992), 70-83; Lucetta Mowry, “Revelation 4-5 and early Christian Liturgical Usage,” Journal of Biblical Literature 71 (1952), 75-84; and David Peterson, “Worship in the Revelation to John,” Reformed Theological Review 47 (1988), 67-77.

[3]Thomas Allen Seel, A Theology of Music for Worship Derived from the Book of Revelation (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1995).

[4]John O’Rourke, “Hymns of the Apocalypse,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 30 (1968), 399-409; Charles M. Mountain, “’Glory and Honor and Blessing’: The Hymns of the Apocalypse,” Hymns 47 (1996), 41-47; and David R. Carnegie, “Worthy is the Lamb: the Hymns in Revelation,” in Christ the Lord: Studies in Christology Presented to Donald Guthrie, ed. Harold H. Rowdon (Downers Grove, IL: Inter-Varsity Press, 1982), 243-256.

Hungering for Power (Lenten Reflections)

Text: Philippians 3:4-14

That can’t be a commendable hunger, can it? To hunger for power.

It depends on what kind of power we are talking about. To hunger for Caesar’s power (or wealth or status) is ungodly, but to hunger for the power to become like Jesus is something different.

This is not a hunger for a credentialed status, even a religious status. Paul refuses to find his confidence in the “flesh,” that is, his credentials—ethnic, pure-blooded Jew from the elite tribe of Benjamin whose obedience and zeal for the Torah was exemplary, even for a Pharisee. Among God’s covenant people, few—if any—could top that resume. But Paul regarded it as garbage in comparison to knowing Christ.

This is Paul’s hunger—to know Christ. This hunger is partially satisfied through being found in Christ where the faithfulness of Christ has achieved for us a status of righteousness. It is the gift of God which we receive by faith. This is worth the loss of all our fleshly credentials.

But Paul hungers for more than a declaration that he has been “set right” (righteousness) in Christ. He yearns to be credentialed beyond a declaration. He wants to know Christ and the power of his resurrection. He wants to become like Christ. He wants to share the path that Christ walked through suffering, death and resurrection.

This hunger pushes Paul to press on toward maturity. It moves him to pursue the goal. Paul races toward the finish line, toward the full experience of God’s gift—not only through a declaration but also in existential reality, that is, in a sanctified, mature life that mirrors the image of Christ.

This is the tension in which believers live. We are declared righteous in Christ but we press on toward the goal. We know Christ but we desire to know him more fully. We are possessed by God but we yearn to possess Christ. We “set right” by faith but we also hunger to live by faith.

The Lenten season does not forget that we are “set right,” but renews our hunger to become what God has called us to be. The Lenten season does not undermine the faithfulness of Christ or replace our work with Christ’s work, but rekindles the yearning to share Christ’s life, to become like Christ.

The practice of Lent is not a fleshly credential, though it can become that for some just as practicing Torah was that from some in Paul’s day. Lent is not works righteousness. Rather, it is pressing forward. It is a letting go of the past and present hindrances in order to pursue (or strain toward) the goal of becoming like Jesus. Lent provides an opportunity to focus our pursuit.

Lent should never serve the goal of securing God’s gift of righteousness. Believers, rather than unbelievers, practice Lent. Believers, who have already been “set right” by faith, use Lent as an occasion to embrace and deepen their fellowship with God. Knowing Christ, believers hunger to know Christ better. They hunger for the power of the resurrection which transforms them into the likeness of Christ in soul now but also in body later.

Discussion Questions:

1. What are your credentials according to the “flesh”? Socially? Vocationally? Religiously
2. What “credential” does Paul desire in this text? How would you describe it? What does it entail?
3. Name something for which you “hunger” in Christ for your life? In what ways do you hunger to become like Jesus?
4. How does your experience of Lent or your pursuit of God move you forward in satisfying this hunger? What practices, values or experiences in life have brought you closer to becoming like Jesus?

Kenny Perry Welcomes Tiger Woods Back

Here is the report:

Woods revealed on Tuesday that he will bring an end to his four-month exile from the game at the season’s first major next month.

Perry admitted that he thought the world number one would chose to return at the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill next week, but is just glad that Woods will soon be back to boost the game once again.

“Well that’s great, it’s great news,” he told Sky Sports News.

“I figured he’d come back next week at Bay Hill since he lives there and he’s won it six times I think.

“But whatever, it’s awesome to have your stud back, our star. He carried our tour, I thank him every day because my pay-check has really risen because of him and our sport really grew because of him.”

Perry continued: “We all forgive him, he’s come back and we’re his family out here.

“You know I tell everybody I’ve got my family at home, but I’ve got my tour family that I travel with week-in, week-out. We’re like a travelling circus, we travel different cities but we’re all together.

“I just want to give the guy a hug, give him a handshake and get him on back out here playing great golf again. I want to beat him!”

Thank you, Kenny Perry!

Forgiveness, embrace and hospitality.

Perry exhibits the spirit of Jesus and is living out his Christian commitment as a deacon of the Church of Christ in Franklin, KY.

Woods has apologized. He has sought help and treatment.

Leave the man alone, let him play and give him space to heal his soul, marriage and family.

17th Century Dutch Arminianism: Dissertation Posted

Twenty-five years ago this month I defended my dissertation at Westminster Theological Seminary. I remember that I was confident but somewhat intimidated at the same time. It was a weird feeling. One goal of a dissertation is to know more than your Professors on the topic. At the same time, they know some things you don’t and you don’t know which things they are.  Thus, confident but intimated.

The title of my dissertation–this will thrill only a few, very few–is: The Theology of Grace in the Thought of Jacobus Arminius and Philip van Limborch: A Study in the Development of Seventeenth Century Dutch Arminianism. My point was that classic (or Reformed or “high”) Arminianism is something very different from late (or “low”) “Arminianism.” In fact, I don’t think we should use the same terms for both. I suggest that “Arminianism” is a title that should describe an evangelical, conservative theology such as that of Arminius himself (and Wesley to some degree) while “Remonstrant” describes the broader, more Enlightenment-shaped theology of later (much watered-down, fairly Pelagianized) ”Arminianism”.

So, Arminianism is one thing and Remonstrantism is another. The latter developed from the former but was influenced by modernity (Enlightenment rationalism) which reshaped it. Arminianism has much more in common with Reformed theology than it does Remonstrantism. I would suggest Arminianism belongs to the Reformation era while Remonstrantism belongs to the Enlightenment era.

The original contribution of my study is the exposition of Philip van Limborch (1633-1712) who was the leading theological professor of the Remonstrant Seminary in the mid-to-late seventeenth century in Amsterdam.

Limborch is of some significance for students of Stone-Campbell history. He was John Locke’s favorite theologian and Limborch fully embraced Locke’s empircism. They were best friends from the time they met at an autopsy in Amsterdam. Further, Limborch’s theology reflects many of the themes of Stone-Campbell theology, including a kind of “word-only” theory, conversion as intellectual assent, similar understandings of covenant, etc. It is not surprising to me that Limborch and Alexander Campbell would have much in common given their modernity, traditional theological training, and acquaintance of Lockean empiricism.

For whatever it is worth–25 years later–I offer my dissertation to the virtual community.  I wish I could rewrite it.  I would prefer more inclusive gender language–I use “man” throughout rather than “humanity,” for example. It is wordy at places and imprecise.  There is much to improve, but it is what it is.    It passed, which was the most important thing at the time. 

Abstract of Dissertation

The dissertation addresses the problem of the theological relationship between the theology of Jacobus Arminius (1560-1609) and the theology of Philip van Limborch (1633-1712). Arminius is taken as a representative of original Arminianism and Limborch is viewed as a representative of developed Remonstrantism. The problem of the dissertation is the nature of the relationship between Arminianism and Remonstrantism. Some argue that the two systems are the fundamentally the same, others argue that Arminianism logically entails Remonstrantism and others argue that they ought to be radically distinguished. The thesis of the dissertation is that the presuppositions of Arminianism and Remonstrantism are radically different.

The thesis is limited to the doctrine of grace. There is no discussion of predestination. Rather, the thesis is based upon four categories of grace: (1) its need; (2) its nature; (3) its ground; and (4) its appropriation.

The method of the dissertation is a careful, separate analysis of the two theologians. Chapters two and three set forth Arminius’ understanding of grace. There is considerable interaction with secondary literature in an attempt to come to an informed understanding of Arminius’ theology of grace. Chapters four, fie and six attempt to understand Limborch’s theology of grace. Since secondary literature on Limborch is scarce, this is the most original work of the dissertation where the original Latin sources are brought to bear on the thesis of the dissertation.

After careful analysis of the respective theologians in the previous chapters, chapter seven compares the two according to their differences and similarities. They differ on the original state of man, the nature of the fall’s effects, the natural ability of fallen man, the nature of the Spirit’s work, the meaning of the death of Christ, the nature of saving righteousness, and the condition of applied righteousness.  Arminius stands  with the theology of the Reformation while Limborch’s theology shows the influence of the Enlightenment. While they have some similarities, including conditionality, synergism, and universalism, these similarities are governed by radically different presuppositions as the differences demonstrate.  Consequently, it is not the case that Arminianism logically entails Remonstrantism.

The dissertation advocates a recognition of the fundamental distinction between Arminianism and Remonstrantism. It argues that the categories of historical theology ought to recognize this distinction. As a result, Arminius ought to be regarded as a theologian of the Reformation, but Limborch, and his Remonstrant brethren, ought to be seen as the advocates of a theology which undermines the distinctives of the Reformation.

Hungering for a New Day (Lenten Reflections on Psalm 118)

Text: Psalm 118 (see this post also)

The resounding refrain of this Psalm—the climactic confession of Israel—is worth repeating…over and over and over, “His steadfast love endures forever.” Psalm 118 beings and ends with this confession. It invites Israel and all those who fear Yahweh to praise the enduring love of God.

It rings true throughout the whole history of Israel. From the calling of Abraham to the Exodus to return for Babylonian exile, “the steadfast love of Yahweh endures forever.” This is the stability of Israel’s faith; it is the one thing we can count on. God loves, he loves faithfully and he loves unchangingly.

Psalm 118 is the testimony of one believer’s experience which anticipates Jesus’ own experience. Indeed, it is our experience as well.

This Psalmist, as he comes to the temple, recalls the harrowing experience of the recent past. He was distressed and troubled; surrounded and almost defeated. Yahweh disciplined him severely and the Psalmist remembered his trouble.

But the steadfast love of the Lord is forever. Yahweh helped, delivered and rescued. Yahweh provided strength and courage in the crisis. Yahweh gave life when death surrounded him.

And now the Psalmist comes to the temple to offer a thanksgiving sacrifice. Open the gates! Let the triumphant one enter! The Lord has saved him; let us give thanks to the Lord.

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“The stone that the builders have rejected has become the chief cornerstone!”
“This is the day Yahweh has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it!”

This is a victory celebration. Once defeated, but now victor. Rejected, but now welcomed. A day of lament and mourning has been changed into a day of rejoicing.

This movement within the Psalmist’s life is also the experience of Israel from Egyptian bondage to the land of Canaan, from Babylonian exile to restoration in the land of Judah.

It is also the experience of Jesus. The New Testament uses the language of Psalm 118 to describe the victory of Jesus and to introduce us to a new day (see Matthew 21:42-44; Mark 12:10; Acts 4:11; 1 Peter 2:7; Luke 13:35; Mark 11:9; Matthew 21:9; 23:39).

It is also our experience. When we move from lament to praise, from sorrow to joy, from discipline to transformation, we experience the newness, hospitality (welcome!) and excitement of this Psalm.

Lent is a season of discipline. Through spiritual practices we are formed by God, drawn deeper into God’s life, and are refined by the fiery trial.

Lent gives birth to Easter. The journey in the wilderness leads us to refreshing waters. The discipline brings us to a new day. It is a day that God makes—God transforms, God refines, God redeems, God gives life. And we rejoice in it.

On this last week before Easter, we anticipate the announcement of a new day, a new beginning, a renewed life. On Easter we may walk through the gates and celebrate the joy of a new day.

We will hear the angels say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”
We will hear the call of the congregation, “Let us rejoice in the day the Lord has made!”
We will hear Yahweh say, “Though you were once rejected by many, you are precious in my sight and a jewel in my crown!”

On Easter we will hear the applause of heaven as Psalm 118 celebrates the recurring work of God in the lives of his people…in Israel…in us…and, ultimately, in Jesus.

Discussion Questions:

1. What range of emotions and circumstances did this Psalmist experience as depicted in the Psalm?
2. How does the New Testament apply this Psalm to Jesus?
3. What is your personal testimony about how “wilderness” (discipline or Lent) leads to “renewal” and “thanksgiving”?
4. Does this Psalm apply to us as well? Can we hear heaven’s applause in this text?

The Canons of Laodicea (364-365)

Canons of Laodicea…probably not the most interesting of topics except for a few (very few) but which I read through for a particular thing I am doing at the moment.  But, ah, such interesting particulars lie in the pontification of these clergy.  Listen to a few….with some, admittedly, irreverent (at times) comments attached.

Canon 15: No others shall sing in the Church, save only the canonical singers, who go up into the ambo and sing from a book.

No congregational singing.  And no singing except from a book (we want to make sure we sing the right stuff with sanctioned theology, I suppose). An “ambo” is an elevated desk, pulpit or area from which one reads/sings, in case you were wondering.

Canon 17: The Psalms are not to be joined together in the congregations, but a lesson shall intervene after every psalm.

I do like the fact that every Psalm should be explained rather than run together.

Canon 19: After the sermons of the Bishops, the prayer for the catechumens is to be made first by itself; and after the catechumens have gone out, the prayer for those who are under penance; and, after these have passed under the hand [of the Bishop] and departed, there should then be offered the three prayers of the faithful, the first to be said entirely in silence, the second and third aloud, and then the [kiss of] peace is to be given. And, after the presbyters have given the [kiss of] peace to the Bishop, then the laity are to give it [to one another], and so the Holy Oblation is to be completed. And it is lawful to the priesthood alone to go to the Altar and [there] communicate.

I’m glad I got that straight now.  The pecking order is real clear to me.  “Communicate” is to communion (the Eucharist).

Canon 25: A subdeacon must not give the Bread, nor bless the Cup.

A subdeacon may carry the wine to the altar, prepare the necessities for the Eucharist and read from the Epistles…but he cannot share the bread of God with the people of God, nor pray over the cup.  By the way, subdeacons serve under deacons.  Since there can only be a limited number of deacons, anyone else who wants to come close is a “subdeacon.”

Canon 28: It is not permitted to hold love feasts, as they are called, in the Lord’s Houses, or Churches, nor to eat and to spread couches in the house of God.

If you have read this blog much, you know how this really bothers me.  No more tables (e.g., spreading couches for festive reclining at tables) in the church.  But then again we have tables we don’t sit at or even stand around.

Canon 29: Christians must not judaize by resting on the Sabbath, but must work on that day, rather honouring the Lord’s Day; and, if they can, resting then as Christians. But if any shall be found to be judaizers, let them be anathema from Christ.

Sunday means rest, Sabbath means work.  And if you rest on Saturday, if you are a judaizer, well, you are going to hell.

Canon 44: Women may not go to the altar.

Well, of course. Since there are no tables either, then it seems they can’t go anywhere but stand in the audience.

Canon 52: Marriages and birthday feasts are not to be celebrated in Lent.

There are lots of rule for Lent; this is only one.  Too bad if you were born in March…no birthday parties for you….ever.

Canon 55: Neither members of the priesthood nor of the clergy, nor yet laymen, may club together for drinking entertainments.

This is my favorite, however.  No clubbing allowed!  I think we need a “Lipscomb University” canon–”neither members of the administration nor of the faculty nor yet students may club together for drinking entertainments.”     Actually, “club” here means to share the expenses.

Do you think these clergy had some control issues? Well, enough said.  Just doing a little “tongue-in-cheek” history but one with some pretty serious theolgoical issues lying underneath.

Hungering for Easter (Lenten Reflections)

Text: 1 Corinthians 15:19-28

Death is an enemy.

On occasion death can be a relative good. When the quality of life, for example, is significantly diminished and there is unbearable pain, we might think dying is better than living—but only in a relative sense. Life is better than death since God created life but not death.

But death, the enemy, reigns. We are powerless before it. We cannot control it. We have no authority over it. Death comes when it wills. We may be able to delay it, but it still comes.

Indeed, death has a long history. It goes back to Adam (and Eve). Though shalom (peace) once ruled a world in which God delighted and rested, sin vandalized the goodness of creation and death assumed its dictatorship. Death was an alien invader in the world God created. Chaos now reigns through death. In Adam all die.

Without hope death gives way to despair. But God has a plan. Christ is God’s response to Adam; resurrection is God’s answer to death. God does not intend for his creation, including our bodies, to disappear into nothingness. God will raise our bodies from the dead in order to live fully in the renewed creation, the new heaven and new earth.

God has a plan, and it is Jesus the Messiah. Jesus was not only human—authentically human in every way, but he is the new human through his resurrection. He is the first of a new humanity, one that will live forever on a renewed earth. His resurrection promises a future humanity. In Christ all are made alive.

Jesus is the first of a coming harvest. Jesus is the first fruit of the harvest; there is more to come. The resurrection of Jesus belongs to the future but occurred in the past as a prediction of the future.

The resurrection of Jesus is a preview of coming attractions. But this preview does not leave us wondering what the end of the drama will be. Instead, in the resurrection of Jesus, we see death destroyed.

The resurrection of Jesus is the power of God that destroys all authority, power and dominion. Death no longer reigns, but Jesus. The Empire no longer wields power, but the kingdom of God. Satan no longer holds the keys of Hades (death) but the living Christ does.

Death is the last enemy and it will not last. Death will not win. This is what we celebrate every Sunday, and this what we celebrate on Easter. God has given us hope in this life and through the resurrection God will give us life after death—not just life “in heaven” after death, but life after life after death in the new heaven and new earth.

God will not abandon his loved ones in the grave. Life wins. Death loses.

Discussion Questions:

1. Is death an enemy? In what sense?
2. Identify the contrasts that appear in 1 Corinthians 15:19-28. What do they tell you about our hope?
3. What does it mean to say that Jesus is the “first fruits” of the coming harvest?
4. How has hope shaped your life? What difference has it made? In what way have you experienced hope in the face of death?

Two Years of Regular Blogging

The beginning of April marks the conclusion of my second year of “regular” blogging. I appreciate all your kindnesses, interactions and encouragement. For those who are interested in such things, here some of the more popular posts.

The Top Three Posts Over the Two Years are:

3.  Meeting God at the Shack V: Forgiving Others, Self and…God?

2.  Women in the Assembly: 1 Corinthians 14:34-35

1.  Divorced People: What Do They Feel?

The Top Five Posts This Year (excluding those above) are:

5.  A Reflection on Psalm 84 for Those Grieving Loss

4.  The Baptism of Jesus: A Fuller Picture

3.  Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts II: Narratival Context

2.  “I Will Change Your Name”

1.  Psalm Lines that Comfort Me

Thank you for your patronage. I am grateful that you find this blog worthy of your attention on occasion.

Shalom,

John Mark

From “Supper” to “Snack”: Why did the Early Church Move from Meal to Simply Bread and Wine?

I know that is probably irreverent.  I certainly don’t want to demean the piety and meaning that centuries of Christians have found in the simple bread and wine at the Lord’s table.  At the same time, “snack” is the language I have heard from children and post-Christian “unchurched” guests. I would suggest, as I do in my Come to the Table, that the meal is a significant and meaningful context for the Lord’s table. In essence, supper is integral to the Supper.

I have just uploaded to my Academics page a brief (all too brief for the topic)  paper I presented at the 2010 Stone-Campbell Conference this past weekend. My purpose was to suggest reasons why the church separated the Eucharist (using that term as a technical one for remembering Jesus through the bread and wine alone) from the Agape (a meal dedicated to praising God, sharing with the poor, and fellowshipping with each other).  Given the following assumptions, some time during the early to mid second century the Eucharist was separated from the Agape. My assumptions are:

1. There is a consensus among New Testament scholars that the Eucharist was originally conducted in the context of an Agape
2. There is a growing consensus among New Testament scholars that the table of the early church in Acts is a continuation of the table ministry of Jesus and particularly a continuation of the post-resurrection meals of the disciples with Jesus before his ascension.
3. There is a consensus among New Testament scholars that the Agape was a frequent and common phenomenon in early Christian communities. 
4. There is a consensus among church historians that the Eucharist and Agape were still linked if not identified with each other at the beginning of the second century, especially in Syria.
5.  There is a consensus among church historians that the Eucharist and Agape were not only clearly distinct but temporally separated at the beginning of the third century.  Clement of Alexandria (Instructor 2.4.3-4; 2.6.1-7.1), Tertullian of Carthage (Apology 39) and Hippolytus of Rome (presuming his primary editorship of the Apostolic Tradition 4, 25-27) each distinguish the Eucharist from the Agape.

The paper rejects the rationale that Paul separated the two in 1 Corinthians since Paul does not tell them not to eat together but to wait for each other. He regulates the meal–conforms the meal to the gospel of Jesus–rather than prohibiting the meal. I don’t, however, take time in the paper to demonstrate this but rather I assume it. The paper also rejects the rationale that potential and actual abuses of the meal led to its separation from the Eucharist. The early church continued to eat an Agape meal for centuries, at least into the mid-fourth century, after 1 Corinthians.  While there were, no doubt, occasional abuses, they church continued to eat together.  And the Agape was a ritualized, religious meal–not simply a “potluck” of the modern variety.

 Instead I offer two primary suggestions (“educated guesses,” I suppose) as to why the Agape was separated from the Eucharist by the early church.

1.  Very early–at least at the beginning of the second century–the church had begun meeting in the pre-dawn hours of Sunday morning. This move from evening to morning, motivated by the desire to honor the resurrection of Jesus–entailed the loss of the meal since the meal belonged to the evening and morning breakfast was minimal for Mediterraneans. Also, evening meals created suspicion among Roman rulers (as Pliny’s letter to Trajan indicates), but that was not determinate since the church continued to eat evening Agape meals.
2. As the church progressed, it began to lose its Jewish roots. The loss of the Jewishness of the Eucharist entailed the loss of the meal.  The bread and wine sanctified a meal in Jewish theology and practice.  The bread and wine served the meal and were not independent ritual acts.  They were meal ritual acts.  But as the church lost sight of their Jewish roots, they lost the connection between the bread & wine and the meal which those elements served and sanctified. The early church turned the Jewish table into a “Christian” altar.

The Agapes disappered in the fourth through the sixth centuries. The church ultimately not only forbade tables in the basilicas (church buildings), but also Agapes themselves.  I think this was an effort at clerical control–something I would like to explore more later.  The Agapes were originally moved into the buildings, then forbidden, and the Eucharistic altar then absorbed some of the functions of the Agape…but without the meal. The loss of “meal” was, then, complete.

 The church had a Supper without a supper.

Crying “Glory” in the Storm (Psalm 29)

On the first Saturday and Sunday of May, Nashville experienced an unprecedented storm where we received 1/4 of our annual rainfall in two days. The resultant floods were devastating for many and crippling to the economy. One only need to look at the pictures and videos present on the internet to understand that this was Middle Tennessee’s worst disaster since the Civil War. Our hearts, hands, prayers and money go out to those who are hurting during this time.

As I began to think about what Psalm I would open for my Woodmont Hills Family of God class on the second Sunday in May–yesterday, the week immediately following the storm–I chose Psalm 29. On the one hand it may seem a bit bold to think about this Psalm in the wake of such flood devastation and community lament, but on the other hand it is a Psalm that recognizes the “voice of the Lord” in the storm, the presence of God in the midst of the storm.

The Psalmist uses the phrase “voice of the Lord” seven times in the hymn of praise that is the center of the Psalm (vv. 3-9). This is not an insignificant number in the symbolic numerology of Israel. Completeness? Yes, probably.  Yahweh controls everything? Yes, seemingly. God is present in his creation, even in the storm, seven days a week? Sounds good to me. God speaks through the creation, even the thunderstorm, even the torrential rains. The heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19:1) and so does the thunderstorm.

Israel watches the thunderstorm arise from the horizons of the Mediterrean Sea (v.3) and watches it break the cedars of Lebanon and cross over Mt. Hermon (Sirion) like a playful animal (v. 6). The cedars are not so strong as to resist the power of God nor is the highest mountain in Palestine too large to hinder the storm. Neither is the desert south of Israel in Kadesh too vast to tremble with the sound of Yahweh’s voice.

This point is even more significant when we recognize the polemic in the Psalm. Baal was the God of the storm in ancient Palestinian religion. Baal brought the rain, thunder and lightning.  But Israel confesses that that they hear the voice of Yahweh in the storm, not Baal. Yahweh is the God of Palestine as well as the whole world. It is their God, their covenant God, who speaks, and Yahweh is committed to Israel in faithful love.

Israel does not fear the storm but they listen to the voice of God in it. Consequently, Israel worships. The hymn of praise is what Israel sings in the temple; it is the praise to which the Psalmist calls the assembly (vv.1-2). Israel worships amidst the sounds of thunder and the flashes of lightning.

I remember as a child that the thunderstorm was always a frightening event for me.  It was not that I was afraid of the house collaspsing or death, but rather I was afraid that the Jesus was returning and my childhood conception of God somehow turned that hope into fear.

But for Israel the thunderstorm is assurance rather than fear.  God’s voice in the thunderstorm announces his reign(though not only in thunderstorms, of course). God asserts his power and majesty. The glory of God is displayed in it. Israel trusts the God who comes to them in the thunderstorm. 

The last two verses of the Psalm reflect this theme (vv.10-11). Israel confesses that God reigns, enthroned over the flood waters. The waters do not dethrone God but rather God reigns over the flood. And Israel does not fear but rests in God’s gracious care and intent.  Yahweh will give Israel “strength” and bless it with “peace.”

Peace in the midst of the storm? Strength through the storm?  This is Yahweh’s blessing.  I have seen it on the faces and heard in the voices of those who have lost much and some everything. God was not absent in the storm but present in the storm to give strength and peace.

The constant torrential rains were amazing to witness. They were awe-inspiring though, at the same time, ominus. They were wondrous but also threatening. The thundestorm was powerful and majestic.

Whose voice spoke?  How did we hear it? How do we respond?

With Israel, we confess that we hear the voice of Yahweh in the storm.  With Israel, we hear that voice with awe and assurance.  With Israel, we cry in our assemblies “Glory!” (v. 9).

Certainly, we lament the hurt and pain. We use our hands in service. We open our wallets to help. 

And at the same time we cry “Glory!” in the assembly of God’s people.

God’s Aquarium (Psalm 104:24-26)

God created his own aquarium. 

There are living creature in the sea which no human being has ever seen and most of which have only recently come within human sight.  For centuries the oceans and their depths were only visible to God–they were his personal aquarium.  But he did not intend to enjoy it alone. As we develop the gifts God has invested in us–underwater travel, cameras, etc.–the glory of these creatures become visible to us.

Using Psalm 104 as a meditation on God’s creative work–in the past and present–we rejoice in God’s works. Moreover, as Psalm 104 sings, God himself rejoices over the works of creation (v. 31).

The creation is the glory of God (v.31).  God gives his glory, his majesty, his awe, to the creation. We ourselves were crowned with “glory and honor” (Psalm 8), and the earth which is full of God’s creatures (v.24) is also the glory of God.  Their splendor is God’s own work. The wonder of creation mirrors the wonder of God.

With the eye of faith I see God smile as he watches the playfulness of the ocean’s creatures.  When humback whales rise out of the water with majestic awe, God smiles.  When dolphins race through the water skimming the tops of the waves, God smiles. When schools of “nemos” move back in forth in unison, God smiles.

God created the”Leviathan” to “play” in the ocean. Whatever the Leviathan is–something akin to the mythic “Moby Dick” I would guess–playfulness is God’s intent.

And God enjoys the playfulness of his aquarium.  I enjoy it, too.  God smiles, and so do I. 

“May my meditation be pleasing to him, as I rejoice in the Lord” (Psalm 104:34).

The Playfulness of Creation

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

[Of course, the kind of play that Jack had in mind in The Shining is not what I have in mind here. ]

Perhaps that originated as a Puritan excuse for recreation. I don’t know. It seems like a justification, but play needs no justification anymore than work does. Both are built into creation. God created playfulness.

Indeed, God is playfulness; his wisdom creates with delight, joy and play. Personified Divine Wisdom in Proverbs 8 not only describes herself as a “master worker” but also as one who daily rejoices (shahak) as she delights in the creation (Provers 8:30-31). Divine wisdom is not all work and no play.

The Hebrew word shahak has a wide variety of meanings from playing on an instrument to laughing another to scorn (mocking); from recreational sports to laughing with joy. And it is a term used to describe the playfulness of creation, both the fish of the sea and the beasts of the field. There is a time to weep, says the Preacher in Ecclesiastes 3, but there is also a time to “laugh” (shahak).

In Yahweh’s description of the Behemoth (perhaps a mythologically sized hippopatmus—Egyptian iconography pictures Horus fighting such an animal), God declares sovereignty over the animal (Job 40:19-20, NRSV). “Only the Maker can approach it with the sword.” Part of this sovereignty is that the “mountains yield food for it where all the wild animals play (shahak).

Also in Psalm 104, the Leviathan (also pictured in Job 41) is Yahweh’s proud example of the creatures of the sea in his aquarium. Wherever ships go upon the sea—wherever humans go—God has already created fish (particularly the Leviathan) to “sport” (shahak) in it” (NRSV) or “frolic” there (NIV).

God enjoys, as we do, the playfulness of his creatures. Who cannot smile as they watch otters play in the water?

Certainly “work”—priestly service in God’s temple of creation—is part of divine intent. We see it in the Garden. This is the dignity of work, careers and jobs. It is the task we have been given as we participate in the missio Dei.

But play is also part of that creation. Creation is not only a workplace but a playground.

The eschatological vision—the restoration and renewal of the heavens an earth, the return of God to Zion in the New Jerusalem—includes play. When God again dwells with his people in Jerusalem, “the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing (shahak) in its streets” (Zechariah 8:5, NRSV). On that day, according to Jeremiah 31:4, God will rebuild Jerusalem and the people of God will take up tambourines and enjoy the city in playful dance (shahak; literally, “the dances of play/sport/laughter”).

All work and no play makes creation a dull place.

Now, Cubbies, “play [some good] ball”! 

A Tale of Three Conversions (Acts 10-11, 15)

We often call it the “conversion of Cornelius.” And, indeed, that is a significant moment. Cornelius was a Roman centurion—the commander of 80 men (sort of like a Captain of a company, though centurions could rank much higher in a Legion—stationed in Palestine. This was no honored placement. It was like soldiering on the Eastern Front during World War II. It was hostile, unpleasant and potentially explosive.

But Cornelius was a devout man who prayed incessantly and gave alms to the poor. God heard his prayers and honored his gifts. But that does not strike us as earth-shattering as it was in Palestinian Judaism. We are too tamed by the story, domesticated by hearing it innumerable times.

Let me say it again. God heard the prayers of a pagan soldier who served in the regime of an imperial nation that oppressed God’s people! Does God hear the prayers of a devout, alms-giving Taliban foot-soldier on the border of Pakistan and Afghanistan? What Jew would have dreamed that God would hear the prayer of a Roman commander? But he did.

This shocked everyone. It even, I think, shocked Cornelius. His rush to obey God, his obeisance to Peter when he arrived at his house, and his willingness to believe and do whatever Peter told him point toward not only the excitement Cornelius felt but his utter gratitude that God answered his prayer.

Everyone included Peter. Even though he had announced that the promise of the gospel was for even those who were “afar off” in his Pentecost homily, he was unprepared for the three visitors who came from Cornelius’ house in Caesarea to the tanner’s house in Joppa. The Holy Spirit had to tell him to go with them as if Peter was racked with confusion and uncertainty.

Peter’s response was understandable. He had been taught the difference between clean and unclean all his life—clean food and unclean food, clean people and unclean people. And the Gentiles were, as a class, unclean. There was no touching them, there was no visiting them, and certainly there was no eating with them allowed within the halls of Jewish Orthodoxy.

When God told Peter in a vision to kill and eat unclean food, he refused. He reminded God of how he was raised and that only kosher food had touched his lips. Three times—mirroring the three who came from Caesarea—God invited him to eat and Peter refused. Refusing to eat what God has provided is no small act.

Perhaps Peter thought God was testing him; perhaps it was a false vision, even a temptation from Satan himself. But it was actually the first step in Peter’s conversion. He received Cornelius’ friends and they stay the evening in Joppa (they must have been Jewish friends of Cornelius—Cornelius was probably a “God-fearer”). He goes to Cornelius’ house, hears his story and concludes what he had been previously unable to even conceive, that is, God is no respecter of persons and whoever does what is right is honored by God, even among the nations (Gentiles).

But the story is not over. There is yet another conversion to come. It is the conversion of the church itself.

When Jerusalem heard that Peter had gone to the Gentiles—a Roman soldier no less—and ate with them, they were dismayed, scandalized and perhaps even hostile. Remember that those who are “zealous for the law” (even if they had become Christ-followers, as in Acts 21:20; cf. ) are hostile to any Jew who violates the traditions of the fathers, especially when it involves relationships with Gentiles, much less Roman soldiers. Circumcision—an Abrahamic covenant—must be maintained and the distinction between clean and unclean must be practiced even if Gentiles become Christ-followers. They must, so many believed, live by the Torah and embrace the covenant of Abraham through circumcision. This hostility continued for decades within the early church as it even fueled some of Paul’s letters like Galatians.

The book of Acts tells the story of Cornelius three times. The only other story it narrates three times is the conversion of Saul. This was a community-altering event in the life of church. It changed the church, and church had to undergo a conversion. The church had to rethink how it thought about Gentiles, related to Gentiles; it had to think about how it would receive Gentiles and live in the community with Gentiles; it had to think about how Jews and Gentiles could eat together, even eat the Lord’s Supper together given their divergent table manners.

That must have been an excruciating process filled with doubts, discomfort, and fear. Certainly in Acts 11 the church hears Peter’s report with joy and praises God. But the church has to hear it again in Acts 15, along with Paul and Barnabas’ missionary report as well as James rehearsal of Scripture to be convinced. Even then the Gentiles had to accommodate some Jewish sensibilities such as not eating food that had been strangled. That the process was frustratingly slow is evident when Peter himself felt so much pressure in Antioch that he withdrew from eating with Gentile Christ-followers in order to smooth the ruffled feathers of some from Jerusalem.

Gentiles in the church are fine as long as they are not in our local congregation, or as long as I don’t have to eat with them, right?

The conversion process for the church was filled with pitfalls—starts and stops and start ups again. The centuries of hostility, mistrust and scruples did not cease with one conversion in Caesarea. We might even wonder if the process was ever actually completed as the church failed to learn to live together as Jew and Gentile in peace and harmony (see Romans 14-15).

Sometimes the church needs conversion. When the church becomes encrusted in its traditional practices….when the church erects cultural or racial barriers….when the church favors particular habits over people….when the church finds spirituality only within the walls of its buildings…when the church is so territorial that it fails to plant new congregations…it needs conversion.

Sometimes the church needs conversion. It needs to hear the voice of God anew. It needs to listen to the stories of God’s work among people. It needs to hear the testimony of changed lives.

Given the history of the church in many places, no wonder that those outside the church retort back to it, “heal thyself.” Sometimes the church needs conversion just as much as those outside of it.

The Church Has Left the Building

I like the idea.  It is a wonderful point to emphasize. 

The church must not see itself as bounded by or confined by the four walls of its building. We have always known that the church is not the building but somehow we have tended to think or at least act as though the Sunday morning assembly is the center of Christian faith and practice.

While I think the assembly has tremendous sacramental importance and is transformative (as Gathered People seeks to demonstrate), it is just as important (perhaps more important given the traditions that have encrusted the assembly) to emphasize the significance of “leaving the building.” Spirituality is lived out 24/7 rather than one or two hours a week.

But I think there is a deeper problem here.  In fact, the church leaves the building every Sunday. They don’t stay inside–they go home as families, they go to work, they go play. The church is on the go. The church has already left the building.

The problem is, it seems to me, that when the church leaves the bulding we have a tendency to compartmentalize our lives. When the church leaves the building, we leave “church” behind in the building. We go to “work” and our careers become an insulated dimension often devoid of spirituality.  We go to “play” and our recreation becomes an isolated reality disconnected from our spirituality.  We go “home” and our families become a separate entity detached from “church.”

But we are still “church” even when we are with our families, at work or at play.  And, I think, we are often “being church” in those contexts except we sometimes don’t have a sufficient understanding of “spirituality” or “practicing the kingdom of God” to appreciate how deeply connected we already are to those environs as church.

For example, most Christians are invovled in kingdom-building in their careers and they perhaps don’t even realize it. Teachers in the public schools (not just “Christian” schools) are doing the  kingdom work of equipping young people for productive future lives; health-care workers are doing the kingdom work of healing and caregiving; lawyers (we hope) are doing the kingdom work of justice; etc., etc., etc.  

This is where we need a deeper theology of vocation.  Our identity is that we are the image of God and our vocation is to participate in the mission of God. Our careers should express our vocation; our “work” life serves the kingdom of God, the mission of God. Can we identify how our career–our jobs–participate in the mission of God? When we do, we are partly on our way to recognizing, at least in part, how the church has already left the building as church.

Yes, let us emphasize the fact that the church must leave the building. Let us challenge and call “church-goers” to also be the church in every aspect of their lives.  At the same time, let us recognize that many are actually being the church in their work, famlies and recreation as they “practice the kingdom of God” in every aspect of their lives.

Divine Simplicity: Christian Scholar’s Conference Paper

I have been taking some time to teach (two courses–one at Lipscomb and the other at Harding University Graduate School of Religion) early in June and to rest in the rest of June. Consequently, I have not been blogging with regularity over the past two months. I make no apologies for that.  But I will probably return with more regularity–at least by the middle of  August.  Summer beckons me to spend some time in self-care, family life, house work (especially after the flooding of my basement during Nashville’s May adventure), etc. Blogging will have to wait.

I did, however, want to post my contribution to the 2010 Christian Scholar’s  Conference the first week of June.  Tom Olbricht asked me to respond to Ron Highfield’s new book on the theology of God entitled Great is the Lord: Theology for the Praise of God.  My paper is entitled “The Simplicity of the Divine Nature: A Response to Ron Highfield’s Great is the Lord“.

Specifically, I was asked to review Highfield’s reflections on the traditional doctrine of divine simplicity, that is, that God’s being or essence does not belong to the same metaphysical categories as created reality. Simplicity denies that God has parts or is like a completed Lego set because this would imply that God participates in realities–as part of God’s essential Being–outside of the divine nature. God is not one being among others, but is the ground of being itself. God is Creator–the ground and origin of all other reality–rather than a participant in some greater or other reality.

For example, we do not say love is God or that God participates in holiness or even possesses holiness.  God does not possess attributes as if those properities have independent  reality. Rather, it is more biblical to say that God is love. God–whatever God is–is the reality of love, holiness, justice, etc. God is what God is. In other words, God is simple–one integrated, undivided essence. Simplicity, then, protects the aseity, uniqueness and independence of God.

Since I generally regard myself as a narrative theogian, I do not usually entertain such classic metaphysical discussions. At the same time, I see the point that links the narrative with the systematic theological point of simplicity. For example, simplicity reminds us that while we may use the language of different attributes or even assert that one attribute is central to God (whether it is glory, love or holiness), our fragmented picture of God is discursive rather than absolutely or essentially true. Simplicity, Highfield observes, “warns us not to take literally our affirmations about God” (p. 269). We understand that “God is love” through the self-emptying act of God in Jesus, but we do not thereby have a univocal grasp of what God’s own self-undestanding of love is. We understand only by analogy. Simplicity, thus, recognizes that God’s nature is an integrated whole rather than conflicted or fragmented. Simplicity reminds us that when we speak in fragmented terms about God (e.g., God is just and God is mercy, even to the point of placing those in opposition to each other), that fragmentation is part of our finitude rather than part of the divine essence.

God is what God is. That is the meaning of divine simplicity. I think Ron summarized and defended it well though I don’t think it entails the kind of immutability that he defends elsewhere in his book. But I will leave that for those who wish to read the paper itself.

Dr. William E. Woodson, Sr.

Last evening I attended the funeral of Dr. William E. Woodson, Sr.  I feel sad. I break my blog silence to remember this spiritual giant in my life.

Dr. Woodson was my first academic mentor. I had more classes under Woodson than any other teacher in my academic career.  I had my first and last Bible classes at Freed-Hardeman College (1974-1977) under Woodson.  The first was the Acts of the Apostles (I had a particular interest in Acts 8:37 and textual criticism, and he indulged me) and the last was a topical seminar on contemporary issues (I wrote on preterist eschatology). I had many between those, of course (including my first course in Church History).

Brother Woodson taught me to read the Bible for myself. He taught me to look carefully at the text, exegete its original meaning, and follow my convictions based on the text.  I learned from him, more than any other, to follow where the text leads me and to honor the text.

More than an academic mentor, he was a pastoral mentor to me.  For a year I travelled with brother Woodson every Sunday to preach at appointments.  I would lead singing and/or teach the Bible class and he would preach, or sometimes he would lead singing and/or teach the Bible class and I would preach.  That was an invaluable experience for a nineteen year old FHC student. The travel time was filled with humor, theological discussion and talk of family. Thank you for that special attention, my friend.

Throughout graduate school in PA and KY, Woodson followed my progress and was a constant encouragement to me. He would often remind about “the Lord’s church” and we would discuss the theology I was learning and taught.

When Sheila died in 1980, he was one of the first I went to see and he was one the first to communicate with me.

In the Spring of 1983, Woodson wanted me to come and teach at David Lipscomb College.  I interviewed and all was going well (as I remember), but I had also decided to marry Barbara.  Because she was a divorcee, that was a problem (an unwritten rule at Lipscomb at the time, I understand).  Woodson counseled me that sometimes, like King Edward of England, one chooses love over position.  He was kind, encouraging and honest with me.  I chose love rather than a position at Lipscomb.

As my theological orientation shifted–and I changed, he did not–we drifted apart as we were both consumed with our own interests and needs. I perceived this drift after the 1985 discussion William Woodson and Alan Highers had with Rubel Shelly and Monroe Hawley at Freed-Hardeman (published as The Restoration Movement and Unity in 1986).  That was a sad day for me as I watched two of my former professors at FHU, two wonderful friends from the 1970s, square off in a discussion which I thought was too personal and too negative.  I approached them both afterwards and expressed my sadness.

For some time after when I would travel to Nashville (which was fairly regular in the 1980s from Montgomery, AL) I would visit with both of them–sometimes back-to-back; first at Rubel’s office, then at William’s. It was a frustrating and sad time for me since I loved them both and honored both of them for what they had meant to me.

In 1992 I found myself on a panel with Woodson and Shelly at Harding University Graduate School of Religion. I had hoped for some reconciliation, and I wrote a paper which I hoped might tend toward that end (a book containing all the speeches and Q&A was published as Grace, Works, Faith: How Do They Relate?).  Ultimately, however, it did not facilitate reconciliation but polarized even further. I know I was never on the same platform with William and Rubel again or saw them on the same platform again (perhaps they were in another venue).

We drifted further apart and only remained in contact with each other a few times in the past decade. I regret that I did not make an effort to see him during that time. I am sorry, William, that we did not have another occasion to talk, laugh and remember together.

Whatever the meaning of the drift that separated us, William Woodson was a man of faith and was deeply convicted by what he believed Scripture to teach.  I honor that today and I honor how he impacted my life.  I am deeply grateful for his life of faith and the gift of teaching God gave him.

Thank you, brother Woodson.  I miss you and love you.   Enjoy your rest, my friend; one day I will join you around the throne of God.

Woodson’s obituary as well as opportunities to leave a message for the family is available here.

Table Reflections: Jesus on the Table

I recently returned from Lancaster, England, where I participated in the European Christian Workshop.  It was a wonderful event and I enjoyed my association with that group of Christians immensely. 

Asked to speak five times about the table (Lord’s Supper), my final lesson was thematic.  I wanted to share it with you since it is a different angle than what is present in some of my other writings on the topic.

I suggested three perspectives from which to view the table:

1. Jesus on the Table–the sacrifical victim who nourishes us with new life
2. Jesus at the Table–the hospitable host who welcomes all to the table
3. Jesus serving the Table–the master who waits on tables

Today:  Jesus on the Table.

I have sometimes heard it said that our assemblies should be reverent and solemn because “the dead body of Jesus is on the table.”  I understand that is arises from thinking about Jesus as the sacrificial victim who gave his life for others.  “This is my body which is given for you” or “This is my blood which is poured out for many.” This connects the table to the cross since Jesus gave his body on the cross and poured it out at the cross.  We eat the sacrificial victim just as Israel ate the Passover lamb and their thanksgiving sacrifices.

However, there is something amiss here. Is it the “dead body of Jesus” on the table?  I think not. Do we eat the dead body of Christ? I think not. For one thing, Jesus is not dead but alive.

My point is not about whether it is a literal body/blood or not, but what body/blood is offered to us in eating and drinking. Are we nourished in the Supper by the dead body of Jesus or the living, resurrected body of Christ?

This is where it is helpful to bring John 6 into the discussion where Jesus uses that strong, even offensive, language that except we eat his flesh and drink his blood we will not have eternal life.  In the context of John 6, the flesh and blood of Jesus are not understand as dead or sacrificed but as living nourishment.  It is the living flesh and blood of Jesus–it is the living Christ–which nourishes us. To eat the flesh of Jesus and to drink his blook is to intake life, an eternal life. It is to experience eschatological life, the life of the resurrected Jesus.

Resurrection language undergirds the teaching of Jesus in John 6. Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life and “I will raise him up on the last day” (6:40). Jesus is the living bread of life, and those who eat partake of life, eternal life. It is the flesh and blood of the eschatological, resurrected Son of Man that is given to us for eating and drinking. We don’t eat dead but living flesh. We don’t drink dried up blood but living blood.

Here is one way to visualize this.  I imagine that in eating and drinking we are lifted up into the presence of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit takes us into the throne room of God to feed on Christ, that is, to be nourished by the power of his resurrected life. Through our concrete, material, physical eating and drinking, the Spirit pours life into us by virtue of the life-giving reality of Jesus Christ. In this way, the Supper is, as Ignatius long ago said, a “medicine of immortality” (Ephesians 20:2). The Supper is a means by which we are nourished by and experience eternal life–a common theme in the Orthodox tradition over the centuries.

When Jesus was raised from the dead, he ascended to the right hand of the Father.  There he reigns as new human, the first of the new creation. His humanity is now life-giving and through him all creation will be renewed.  When we eat and drink, we participate in the new creation as we feed on his body and drink his blood, as we are nourished by new creation itself.

This feeding and drinking calls us to a new creation life even now. We are new creatures in Christ; we are empowered by his resurrected life. To eat and drink is to embrace the practice of new creation and mission of God for his creation.

Jesus is on the table through the bread and wine. But it is not the dead body of Christ, but the living, resurrected new creation. The living Christ is on the table and offers life everlasting but life as new creatures even now.

Table Reflections: Jesus At the Table

In my last post I suggested three perspectives from which we  might view the table:

1. Jesus on the Table–the sacrifical victim who nourishes us with new life
2. Jesus at the Table–the hospitable host who welcomes all to the table
3. Jesus serving the Table–the master who waits on tables

Before unpacking #2, one further comment on #1.  While some might object that “on the table” might sound a bit too literalistic or substantial (in terms of transsubstantiation or consubstantiation), I think my point illuminates that “on” is used metaphorically here but yet with a true, authentic spirituality.  Jesus is “on” the table in the sense that the risen Christ nourishes us as one who already participates fully in the new creation. Through eating his body and drinking his blood, we truly participate in that new creation ourselves as Christ nourishes us with his own life–a life-giving body and humanity. This is accomplished through the Spirit by whom we participate in that new life. This is the meaning I attach to “This is my body” and “This is my blood,” that is, it is a true communion with the life of Jesus. It that sense, since by the means of the bread and wine, Jesus is “on the table.”

Today: Jesus at the Table.

This is the major theme of my book Come to the Table.  My central thesis–though not the exclusive meaning of the Supper–is that Jesus sits at host of his table in the kingdom of God. The Living Christ is present at the table, seated with his welcome guests, eating and drinking with them, welcoming them to the table, and providing the meal as a gracious gift.

Several key phrases in the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper reflect this motif.  For example, Luke 22 announces Jesus’ intent to eat the Passover and drink the wine again when the meal finds its fulfillment in the kingdom of God (22:16-17). Jesus is no mere spectator at this meal, and neither is he merely the content of the meal (the Passover lamb). Rather, he is an active participant as he eats and drinks at the table.

More explicitly, in Matthew’s account, Jesus explicitly states his expectation that when he drinks the cup anew in the kingdom of God he will do so–as he says to his disciples–”with (meta) you” (26:29) just as earlier in the narrative Jesus had stated his intent “to keep the Passover…with (meta) my disciples” (26:18). In Matthew this is very significant language as he begins his gospel with the “Immanuel” which means “God with (meta) us” (1:23) and ends his gospel with the promise that the risen Lord would always be “with (meta) you” (28:20).

This language is pregnant with meaning and evokes significant theological reflection.  It is about presence, but more than presence.  It is about participation with, but more than even that.  It is about, in Matthew 26, a shared meal–a mutuality, a reciprocity, an experience of active communion with the living Christ.

At the table, Jesus hosts….eats and drinks…communes…shares…and loves. God is with us in the human, risen Christ and we eat at God’s table in God’s kingdom. We eat at the table of the king.

This is a gracious gift and a demonstration of the love of God. We–undeserving, unworthy–eat with God. We–unexpectedly, wondrously, joyfully–eat with Jesus.

In such a light, why does sadness dominate our tables in the church? Why can we not eat and drink with joy since we eat and drink with the living Christ? Jesus is at the table!

Psalm 77

The previous weekend (9/18-19/2010) I was honored to meet with the Echo Lake Church of Christ in Westfield, NJ and discuss “Anchors for the Soul: Trusting God in the Storms of Life.” Brian Nicklaus is the minister there and it was a joy to spend some time with him. Several blog friends, and others, showed up–including Rex Butts and Adam Gonnerman.  Sunday morning I shared Psalm 77 with the congregation (the audio is linked ”here“).

Psalm 77 is one of my favorite lament Psalms.  I return to it often–for myself and for others as I pray for or with them.  I have had occasion this week to think about it again as two friends have experienced extreme hardship and tragic depths recently.

There are lines that strongly resonate with me. It uses language speaks my own heart and I can pray it with utter abandon–especially at the darkest moments of my life and the lives of others.

The Psalmist voices my own feelings.

“my soul refused to be comforted” (77:2)–in other words, don’t tell me it will be “OK,” that this is only a brief moment of hurt or pain. Don’t console me with platitudes and pronostications. In fact, to be comforted is almost to say that it really didn’t hurt that bad. Sometimes I would just rather hurt since it legitimates the reality of my pain rather than smoothing it over with “nice” (though well-meaning) words.

“I remembered you, God, and I groaned” (77:3)–in other words, in the midst of tragic circumstances, sometimes the thought of God is too painful itself. When I remember God’s promises, dreams, intent and past actions, I groan with the reality of what is happening in the present and my mind begins to question and doubt. When God is remembered in tragedy, we sometimes groan as we wonder where God was when this happened.

“I was too troubled to speak” (77:4)–in other words, I had no words and it was too painful to even articulate. There were no words to express what I was feeling and I was afraid to even say what I was thinking. Sometimes the weight is so great and the pain so unbearable that we can’t speak even if we wanted to.

But it is the questions that are so real to me. They are so direct in this Psalm, and they are the obvious questions to sufferers.

“Will [the Lord] never show his favor again?” (77:7)  Tragedy seems unending as if the pain will never go away and no joy can erase it. How can there be “favor” again? What would that look like? Am I God-forsaken?

“Has his unfailing love vanished forever?” (77:8) Where is the love God promised? Is this how you love us, O God? You may call this love but it does not look that way to me.  Where is your love in the midst of tragedy?

“Has God forgotten to be merciful?” (77:9) Where is your mercy? Is the world–is not my life–broken enough? Why must this continue? When will you remember your love for us and show us mercy?

If the Psalm ended there, it would still be a wonderful place to sit since it is not a place that many “church folk” allow us to sit. Many don’t want to hear the questions, nor do they want to hear our feelings.  They would rather we not speak or perhaps even admonish us as Job’s friends did. The Psalm would have value even ending at verse 9 much like Psalm 88 ends.

However, the Psalmist finds a way to walk through the trouble and the questions. The Psalmist, with the strength of faith, will come to confess that God’s “ways…are holy” (77:13) despite all appearances. How does the Psalmist get there?

He does three things:

“To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand.” I will make a claim about God’s track record. I will recognize that God’s right hand has delivered me in the past and that he has delivered his people in the past. God will not abandon his people.

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord.”  I will recount, retell and relive the deeds of God. I will immerse myself in God’s narrative, God’s story. I will remind myself of the innumerable ways God has been present to redeem his people.

“I will…meditate on all your mighty deeds.” I will quiet myself in mediation–find a moment of calm to let the peace of God sink into my soul by probing the meaning and experiencing in my own soul the reality of God’s redemptive work for his people.

The Psalm reminds me that God has redeemed, does redeem and will redeem again.  It still hurts. Nevertheless, I trust in the redemptive work of God.  God has a track record. He had demonstrated in Israel and also ultimately, climatically and finally in Jesus Christ. Nothing in all creation, my friends, can separate us from the love of God in Christ. This is our trust and hope.

Table Reflections: Jesus Serves the Table

In my previous two posts I suggested three perspectives from which we might view the table:

1. Jesus on the Table–the sacrifical victim who nourishes us with new life
2. Jesus at the Table–the hospitable host who welcomes all to the table
3. Jesus serving the Table–the master who waits on tables

Today: Jesus Serves the Table.

Luke 22:24-30 is a fascinating text if for no other reason than that the disciples are arguing about who was the “greatest” in the kingdom while sitting at the same table with Jesus. Surely no believer ever does that anymore!

But another reason this text fascinates me is that the instruction here is also given by Matthew (20:20-28) and Mark (10:35-45) but at an entirely different moment in Jesus’ life. They both use it as a response to the sons of Zebedee (and/or their mother!) who requested a prominent place in the kingdom for her sons. Both Matthew and Mark contextualize the kind of service Jesus provides and models in his act of giving his life as a ransom (Mark 10:45; Matthew 20:28). Luke puts a different spin on it.

Luke contextualizes this saying of Jesus by referencing the meal. While Matthew and Mark note that Jesus, unlike the kings and benefactors, serves others by dying for them, Luke notes that Jesus serves other by the way he conducts himself at the table. “For who is greater,” Jesus says, “the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27).

Jesus waits on tables; he served the table of his disciples. Perhaps, if we bring John 13 into this (which may not be good exegetical hermeneutics), we see this through his washing of their feet. Or, perhaps, Luke means that Jesus served as a deacon (a waiter) in this moment. He waited on the disciples as they sat at table. Jesus is a servant because he waits on tables.

I think this is exactly what Luke means and there is an earlier indication in the Gospel that this is his point. In Luke 12:33-40 Jesus tells a parable about a returning Master for whom the servants are watching. We might expect the parable to recount how when the Master returns, the servants will wait on him. But we get the opposite. When the Master returns, the Master prepares to serve, sits them at the table, and “waits (diakonesi) on them” (12:37).

What an eschatological portrait! When Jesus returns, the reigning King will serve the community of faith at table. The Messiah will be the waiter at the Messianic banquet! The wonder of that thought draws me to praise and adoration as well as gratitude.

We might find some rational comfort in thinking that as the Messiah incarnate in the flesh Jesus would demonstrate servanthood by waiting tables. That seems to fit–he did wash feet after all. But that in the eschaton Jesus is still waiting tables–that does not seem to fit….except that servanthood is the heart of God. When Jesus waits on tables, it reflects the kind of servant leadership that is part of God’s own nature. God is a servant and calls us to serve just Jesus served.

Waiting and serving tables. The chuch still does this in its assemblies as well as in its potlucks, service to the poor, and in our homes. Unfortuantely, however, serving the table in the assembly has often been equated with some kind of clerical or gender authority. Waiting tables belongs to all disciples as servants rather than any particular gender or class of clerics.

We are called to serve as Jesus served–giving his life for us but also waiting tables. It is a shame that some lay persons and most women are excluded form the latter while still expecting the former of them. It seems that the only tables most laity and women are not permitted to serve are those in the assembly of the church even while they are expected to serve all other tables. What a crying shame.

When We Assemble (1)…We Love Each Other

I am increasingly convinced that all theological and ethical thought must be organically rooted–not simply tangentially connected–and illuminated by what Scot McKnight calls the “Jesus Creed,” that is, the first and second greatest commandments: Love God and love your neighbor.

As a step in that direction, I offer three blogs on the nature and purpose of assembly. When believers gather as disciples of Jesus to pray and commune, when they assemble as the people of God in community, they embody and practice the first and second greatest commandments. Assembly, of course, is not the only way to embody those commands, but it is certainly one way. And, I think, it is illuminating to reflect on the assembly through that lens.

When we assemble, we love each other.

Who could disagree with that? Assembly provides opportunity for mutual encouragement, mutual comfort, and mutual edification. It is a moment of shared life, shared song, shared prayer, shared teaching, and shared communion.

Paul takes us directly to this point when he addresses the problems in the Corinthian assembly in 1 Corinthians 11-14. “Love,” he wrote earlier in the letter, “builds up” (1 Corinthians 8:1) and the assembly is a place where everything must have the intention of “building up” (1 Corinthians 14:26).

But in Corinth it had become an occasion of humiliating the poor (1 Corinthians 11:22) and egotistical self-promotion (1 Corinthians 12, 14). Their supper did not lovingly share with those who had little but rather assumed that each would fend for themselves. They used gifts to distinguish the superior from the inferior rather than for the common good of the body. Their prayers and praises did not prioritize the encouragement and comforting of others but rather promoted their own gifts as tokens of their approved status before God.

Contextually, it is no surprise that 1 Corinthians 13 comes between chapters 12 and 14. Love is the “more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31) and the “greatest” gift (1 Corinthians 13:13).

What kind of love should shape our assemblies? A kind patience that is neither easily irritated nor resentful of others; a hopeful, trustful and enduring love that is neither envious nor boastful. May God bless all our assemblies with such love!

In the assembly love is diminished in several ways. Love is diminished by boastful arrogance which pridefully exalts one gift above another; it is diminished when performers perform rather than encourage and edify. Love is also diminished when assemblies cater to and coddle consumers; it is diminished by attractional consumerism when assemblies should confront us with the reality of God’s presence (1 Corinthians 14:24-25) whereby the secrets of our hearts are disclosed and God is revealed. Love is also diminished when traditional preferences become immutable rules and also where innovative options are introduced in ways that ignore the sensitivities of others.

Love is never easy, and loving each other in community as assembly is not easy either. Miscommunication, inadvertent comments, unannounced changes, liturgical arrangements, seating changes, etc., etc., etc.–almost ad infinitum–are occasions of offense, misunderstanding and hurt feelings.

But love–truly loving our neighbor–love covers a multitude of sins and offenses…even when they happen in an assembly!

When we assemble, let us love one another.

When We Assemble (2)….We Love God

When we assemble, we love God.

Or, more to the point I want to make, when we assemble, we love on God. 

There are many ways to make this point. We could look at the Psalms where we have example after example of expressed love for God through prayer, praise and assembly. For example, Psalm 116 is the grateful praise of one who has been delivered from death and the Psalmist responds to God “in the presence of all his people.” In the midst of the assembly, the Psalmist declares, “I love the Lord!” Laurie Klein’s lyrics connect us in a contemporary way with the loving practices of the Psalmists:

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship You
Oh, my soul rejoice!
Take joy my King
In what You hear
Let it be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear

Or, we could note  how loving God is understood in Deuteronomy where the call to “love the Lord your God” is first announced in chapter 6. Israel is called to love God by embracing the path to life that God has outlined for them. As part of that, when Israel gathered to celebrate the festivals, they loved God through praise and thanksgiving.

Or, we could think about how loving God is unpacked in the Johannine literature. Not only do we love God when we love our neighbor (as per 1 John 4:20-21), we also love God whenever we submit to God in obedience. We love God when we worship him, which includes assembly.

But, I think, one Lukan narrative is particularly illuminating (Luke 7:36-50). Burdened by a deep conviction of sin and moved by a love for the one who loved her, the “sinner” brought a gift to Jesus, fell at his feet and loved him by gently and tenderly kissing and anointing Jesus’ feet.  This is a narratival picture of worship where kneeling and kissing are the root actions which express the attitude of one of the Greek terms for “worship”  (proskuneo). Her act, in the words of Jesus, are acts of love. She loved Jesus.

Loving God–loving God as a community in assembly–is, in part, prostrating ourselves before the Triune God and kissing God.  This involves at least two ideas.  It is, on the one hand, a humble expression of love. We recognize God’s transcendence, holiness and glory. We praise, honor and fear God.  On the other hand, it is an act of intimacy, a kind of “kiss’ whereby we express our love for God. We adore, cherish and treasure God. We experience God’s presence among us,  participate in the love of the Father, Son and Spirit and delight in the relationship.

There is a danger, however, in approaching assembly from this direction. When loving God is reduced to obedience to a set of commandments, and obedience is reduced to a “check-list” mentality, then assembly becomes legal duty rather than an initmate, holy encounter.  While few, if any, would sanction such a reductionism, it seems to be where religious folk tend to land within their traditions. When assembly equals a prescribed set of liturgical actions for the sake of obedience, assembly is reduced to mere ritual or a mechanistic manipulation toward divine approval. This sucks the heart out of worship.

The asembled people of God, as a community, delight in God as they declare God’s praise and honor, bear witness to God’s mighty acts of salvation and set God on the highest place in our lives–both personally and communally.  This is loving on our God.

When we assemble, we love God.

In the words of Dennis Jernigan:

We will worship the Lamb of glory
We will worship the King of kings
We will worship the Lamb of glory
We will worship the King

And with our hands lifted high,
We come before You and sing
With our hands lifted high,
We come before You rejoicing.
With our hands lifted high
To the sky
And the world wonders why

We’ll just tell them we’re loving the King…Oh
We’ll just tell them we’re loving the King

When We Assemble (3)…God Loves Us

When we assemble,  God loves us.

I sense an immediate danger in that statement. It could potentially mean that God loves us only when we assemble or that God loves us because we assemble. I mean neither. Rather, I mean that when we assemble, God is actively engaged with us during the assembly by loving on us.

Too often God is regarded as passive in our assemblies as if God merely sits on the throne to receive our praise. This can even degenerate into an egotistical conception of God who says something like, “I am God, give me praise, this is why I created you and if you don’t worship me, I’ll zap you.” It can reduce God to an Ego that needs stroking and approval.

Even if our sense of divine passivity does not degnerate into an egoism, it can reduce God to mere audience or, worse, a mere spectator. When we think that all that happens in our assemblies is that we love each other, then we put God in the place of a spectator. When we think that our assemblies are only about what we do for God, then God becomes a passive audience. God’s role in the assembly, however, is much more significant than spectator or audience.

The greatest commandments–to love God and love our neighbor–are rooted in the reality of God’s active love for us. When we love our neighbor, God loves our neighbor through us.  When we love God, it is only because he has first loved us.  That God loves us is the ground of all our response to God, especially the first two commandments.

Consequently, the first question we should ask about our assemblies is not what do we do for each other or what do we do for God but rather what does God do for us in the assembly?  Answer:  God loves us. God is an active participant in the assembly rather than a mere spectator or mere audience.

But what does it mean for God to love us, or to love on us, in the assembly? What does it mean for God to be active in the assembly of the gathered people of God?

• It means God delights in us and rejoices over us.  Zephaniah even describes this as singing over us (3:17). God celebrates our relationship with him.
• It means that God rests among his people as God draws near to us and dwells among us. The biblical-theological notion of “divine resting” is extremely signifcant.  Resting is not about recovering from fatigue, but about enjoying what God has created through communing with the creation. “God rests” means “God tastes the sweet fellowship of his people.”
• It means that God honors, blesses and glorifies his people. God praises his people, as Zepaniah 3:20 says. I love the image about which Max Lucado writes in one of his book’s titles that God applauds his people.  Psalm 118 imagines a moment when we hear the applause of heaven when we enter the gates:  “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
• It means God’s presence is transformational and sanctifying.  Communal assembling is sanctifying event–God is at work among us to conform us to the image of Christ.  God forgives and renews through assembly.
• It means that God is graciously present and lifted us up into his heavenly city, Mt.  Zion, the city of the living God (Hebrews 12:22-24). There we join the Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy) of the angels and the saints gathered around the throne of God.

More could be said–let your mind race through the many ways and forms in which God loves on us during an assembly, even through other people.

It all ties together–all three dimensions of the assembly.  God loves us when we are loved by others, and we love God when we love others, and we love others when we love God in praise and prayer.

When we assemble, we love God, we love others and  God loves us.  Its actually fairly simple and why would we not want to be part of that? I love to assemble with others and there I love and am loved.

When We Assemble….(Small Group Resources)

This weekend I am conducting a retreat on the topic of my previous three blogs (When We Assemble…). It will involve three presentations, one on each blog topic. I am also providing resources for small group discussion of the presentations, though the first is a private meditation. These are simple and basic, but hopefully helpful.

 

Session One: What We Do For God, or Loving God When We Assemble

Private Meditation

Text:  Reflecting on either Psalm 116 or Luke 7:36-50, walk through these questions.

What am I and what are my needs?
What has God done for me? Make a gratitude list.
How do I approach God in worship?
What do I offer (bring) God in worship?

 

Session Two: What We Do For Each Other, or Loving Each Other When We Assemble

Group Discussion

Text: 1 Corinthians 14:1-5,13-19, 22-26

What are some of the loving practices of the Corinthian assembly or what practices does Paul recommend for the sake of love?
What are some of the disruptive practices of the Corinthian assembly?
How do we love each other in practical ways when we assemble?
In what ways is love diminished by some assemblies?
What steps might we take to increase the love in our assemblies?

 

Session Three: What God Does For Us, or God Loving Us When We Assemble

Group Discussion

Text: Zephaniah 3:9-20

What does God do in this vision of the future?
What is the response of the redeemed remnant?
What does God feel—God’s emotional life—in response to the presence of the redeemed? What is God’s experience of our worship?
What do you envision God doing during our assemblies? How does this affect your experience and attitude toward assemblies?

Examen Prayer

The “Examen Prayer” is a form of Ignatian spirituality derived from St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuit order.  The practice is older than Ignatius but he gave it the present form.

I have been using Ignatius’ practice for some time now.  I have found it extremely helpful.  I had used other forms of this, particularly from the Alcoholic’s Anonymous Big Book (quoted below) in my spiritual recovery from workaholism.

In spiritual recovery, I found Steps of Transformation: An Orthodox Priest Explores the Twelve Steps by Father Webber Meletios (trained in psychology and an Orthodox priest) wonderfully refreshing. Here is a book that combines the insights of 12 step programs with biblical text shaped by the spirituality of Orthodox theology. This is a rich combination filled with theological reflection on spiritual disciplines, spirituality and recovery.

The Examen Prayer, however, is something I have recently begun to use and I was motivated to do so by the example given in Elaine A. Heath’s The Mystic Way of Evangelism.  Below is how I practice it, and some further resources.

One more point: I think it is particularly important for men since it focuses on emotion and feeling which are the widows to our souls but which windows we males often keep closed or shut off from others. This examen opens those windows to God and thus enables us to reflect on them and share them with others (especially our wives!) or closest companions in the journey of life.

Preparation

Centering Silence: get into a relaxed position, settle your spirit and focus your mind/heart by prayerfully repeating a phrase or line from Scripture.

“Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul” (Psalm 143:8).

Prayer Path:

1. Recognize that you are in the presence of God and pray for illumination: “Lord, I believe that at this moment I am in your loving presence. Please help me understand myself today and see you in my life.”

2. Review the day with gratitude: “God, I thank you for your many gifts. Help me appreciate your blessings.”

Be concrete and specific. Where have you experienced the goodness of the Lord today? Review the day to see where God has been present throughout the day. Failings will emerge in your review as well.

3. Pay attention to the feelings that surfaced in your review of the day.

Reflect on the feelings, both positive and negative, you have experienced today. Acknowledge the range of feelings that emerge out of the various circumstances of the day. Feelings fill our day and illuminate our hearts.

4. Choose one of those feelings and pray from it: “God, having examined my day, I give thanks for your gifts and ask your forgiveness for my failings. I have felt ____ today and give me grace to see you in this feeling and what it means.”

Is there one emotion or feeling that stands out to you? Explore this emotion—what was its origin, meaning and effect? How did it affect your day? Express spontaneously the prayer that emerges as you attend to this feeling as it appeared during the day.

5. Offer a prayer of reconciliation and resolve: “Lord, as I look forward to tomorrow, I renew my commitment to follow you. Show me how to become the person you want me to be.”

As you review the day to come, what feeling emerges as you look at the coming tasks. Fear? Doubt? Joy? Regret? Whatever it is, turn it into a prayer for help, healing or thanksgiving.

6. Conclude: The Lord’s Prayer.

Resources:

Ignatian Spirituality – a Jesuit site that describes, models (with video and audio presentations) and explains the Examen spiritual practice. This site also has multiple links to other resources.

Examen.Me – a practical application site where you can process the examen through a guided journaling online and export your entries to your computer.

The AA Big Book (p. 86) suggests something similar meditative strategy for those recovering from addiction–we are all recovering from the addiction to sin:

When we retire at night, we constructively review our day. Were we resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid? Do we owe an apology? Have we kept something to ourselves which should be discussed with another person at once? Were we kind and loving toward all? What could we have done better? Were we thinking of ourselves most of the time? Or were we thinking of what we could do for others, of what we could pack into the stream of life? But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, for that would diminish our usefulness to others. After making our review we ask God’s forgiveness and inquire what corrective measures should be taken.

On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought-life will be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives.

Old is Good, New is Better: Creation and Sacraments

Created materiality is good; indeed, it is very good. It is not simply good in an ethical sense but delightful and wonderous. God created the world as a temple in which to dwell, a place where God and humanity would enjoy each other, delight in the wonder of the world, and rest within it.

Materiality, rather than something to be discarded in the end, was designed as a means by which finite, material humans would participate in the communion of God’s life. Creation was not an addendum or a secondary reality but the reality through which humans would experience God and become like God.

But, alas, creation is now broken. It is still good, but broken. It is enslaved, infected with chaos, and subjected to frustration. Nevertheless, creation still performs its role–it is a means by which we participate in the life of God. We still experience God through creation as, for example, when we experience the beauty of God’s creation. We experience God in the little things of creation as well as in its majestic views. Yet, creation is broken. It is filled with pain, hurt, tragedy and death. It is frustrating and we yearn for liberation as creation itself groans for renewal and redemption.

Despite its brokenness, God affirmed the goodness of creation through the incarnation. God became flesh–material. The Son became part of the creation itself, lived within the creation and experienced the Father through creation.

More than this, the Son became new creation. He inaugurated new creation as the new human who was raised from the dead and seated at the right hand of God. The Son is new creation, the new Adam, the new human.

This is where the sacraments become a meeting place between the old and new creations–an encounter moment where God offers humans living in the broken, old creation an experience of the new creation through the exalted Jesus.

The Eucharist is bread and wine, but it is more than bread and wine.  It is not “regular” meal. We may experience God through any meal–whether it is the nightly family meal, the church pot-luck or thanksgiving dinner! Old creation is still good and is still a medium of God’s presence in the world. But the Eucharist is more.

The Eucharist is the experience of new creation. The bread and wine of the old creation become means by which we experience the reality of the new cration. It is still bread and wine–created materiality is not annihilated–but it is also a participation in the reality of the new creation through the presence of Christ.  Whether we think of that presence in the bread, through the bread or at the table is inconsequential to my point here. The Eucharistic meal is a new creation meal that does not annihiliate materiality or creation. Rather, it transforms it, liberates it and brings it to its telos (goal).

Baptism is water but is more than water. It is not a “regular” dip in water. We may experience God in the shower or through a warm, long hot bath.  Old creation is still good and is still a medium of God’s presence in the world.  But Baptism is more.

Baptism is the experience of new creation. The water of the old creation becomes a means by which we experience the reality of the new creation. It is still water–created materiality is not annihilated–but it is also a participateion in the reality of the new creation through our union with Christ. In or through Baptism we participate in the eschatological death and resurrection of Jesus. We rise from the watery grave to live as new creatures; participants in new creation. Baptism is a new creation bath in water that does not annihiliate materiality or creation. Rather, it ushers us, by the Spirit, into the reality of the new creation where we are raised to sit with Christ in heavenly places at the right hand of God.

Assembly is gathering of people but it more than a mere gathering.  It is not simply a group of people “hanging out.” We may experience God through haning out with friends, even going to ballgames and playing in God’s good createion. Old creation is still good and it is still a medium of God’s presence in the world.  But Assembly is more.

Assembly is the experience of new creation. The gathering of God’s people within the old creation becomes a means by which we experience the reality of the new creation. We are still living here in this broken, old creation but through that gathering of material creatures we participate in the reality of the new creation through union with the eschatological assembly of God around the throne of God. Through Assembly we enter the holy of holies as a community and join the community that is already and eschatologically gathered there. We participate in the Sanctus of the angels and join the heavenly chorus, singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Neither our materiality nor our creatureliness is annihilated. Rather, through creation we participate in new creation as the Spirit of God takes into the throneroom of  God just as John was lifted there “in the Spirit” in the Apocalypse.

The Eucharist, Baptism and Assembly are meeting places.  They are places, by the promise of God, where God meets us in this old, broken creation in order to experience–to taste, to get a glimpse of–the new creation. They are moments of both authentic participation in the new creation as well as anticipations (hope) of the fullness of new creation.

Through the sacraments, God authentically communes with us and promises that one day the brokenesses of creation will pass away and all creation will be liberated and renewed.

This is why I love the sacraments–they are gifts of God through which we experience new creation and anticipate the new heaven and new earth. They are injections of hope in a broken world, previews of coming attractions, and proleptic experiences of what is to come.

David Lipscomb on the Cholera Epidemic in Nashville (June 1873)

One of David Lipscomb’s incessant emphases was that the poor were God’s special concern.  The Cholera Epidemic of 1873 provided an opportunity for the church to serve the sick, dying, and needy, especially among the poor which included the African-American community.

In 1873 the population of Nashville was 25,865. Cholera first appeared in 1873 in the city prison on May 6. Some prisoners had just returned from western Tennesee where they had been working on the railroad. A significant number of prisoners fell ill and the first death outside the prison walls occurred on May 25.  Between June 7 and July 1, Nashville recorded 244 “white deaths” and 403 “colored deaths” (The Cholera Epidemic in the United States, 143-157) and close to a 1,000 died in the epidemic. This means that something like 1 out of every 25 people died in Nashville that summer.

David Lipscomb, though he lived ten miles outside the city limits, remained in Nashville to assist the sick.  His buggy carried the women of the Roman Catholic “Sisters of Mercy” as well as the Dominican order to their destinations and he himself cared for the sick and dying, including African-Americans.

Lipscomb was disturbed that so many people fled the city rather than staying to minister to the sick and needy.  Below are two articles that apperaed in the Gospel Advocate that summer.  The first (July 17, pp. 649-653) rebukes those who fled on the ground a strong theological argument and describes some the efforts in the city to care for the sick.  The second article (August 21, pp. 774-776) responds to an anonymous critical response to Lipscomb’s article.

The first letter is lengthy but well worth the read. It was a memorable moment in the history of Nashville as well as in the life of David Lipscomb. In this moment ecclesiological differences were transcended by acts of mercy across economic and racial barriers.

First Article

David Lipscomb, “The Cholera and the Christian Religion,” Gospel Advocate 15.28 (17 July 1873) 649-653

The object of giving to man the Christian religion is to educate him up to the full observance of the will of God, as Christ observed it.  Christ came to do his will even unto death that we might live according to the will of God. The great object of all God’s dealings with man is to induce him to give himself up unreservedly to do the will of God, to submit to his laws. Christ’s life was a perfect submission to the will of his Father in Heaven. The religion of Jesus Christ, then, proposes to reproduce in our lives the life of Christ, both in spirit and active labor. The reproduction in our lives of the life of Christ is the end before us, for our attainment. To this work, we pledge ourselves when we profess to become his followers. We say, we will, with the help of God, strive to live according to his precepts. His life was the practical exemplification of his precepts. He practiced the precepts he gave for the government of the world. He gave in percept for the government of his followers the rules of his own life.

To the extent that we follow his example, and thus practice his precepts, we form within us the living Christ. Paul to the Galatians, 4, 15, says, “My little children of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you.” Again Colos. 1, 27, “To whom God would make know what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you the hope of glory, whom we preach, warning every man and teaching every man in all wisdom, that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus.”

We are not only brought into Christ, but Christ is also formed in us by a learning and compliance with his will. The unification between Christ and the disciples progresses from two different directions. The attainment of that unity with Christ is the Christian’s work in life.

Man is baptized out of himself, out of the world and its institutions, and is baptized into Christ that he may walk in him, obey him, enter into his spirit and that Christ may be formed in him. He thus becomes one with Christ, he is in him, he acts through him. The pledge that we solemnly make in our profession of faith in Christ and of our baptism into him is, that we will strive to reproduce his life before the world in our own lives. Hence we are epistles of Christ to the world, to be read of all men.

To reproduce the life of Christ in our own lives is to act as Christ would act, were he in our places. We thus become Christ’s representatives to the world. The solemn pledge of our lives is to act to the best of our ability in the various relationships that we occupy in the world, and in the exigencies and circumstances in which we are placed as Christ would act, were he here situated as we are.

A man with talent and social position confesses [650] Christ, puts him on in baptism. He pledges to God most sacredly, before the world, he will use that talent or ability as Christ would use it. A man with one, two, ten or a hundred thousand dollars, as baptized out of himself into Christ, he pledges as a servant of Christ to try to act as Christ would, were he here on earth situated as this individual is, with his one, ten, or one hundred thousand dollars. That is the obligation, nothing less. (I have no utopian idea that Christ in such circumstances would divide his ten or one hundred thousand dollars among a set of lazy thriftless vagrants or spendthrifts, that would be no better off with it, than without it. But he would so use it as to relieve the pressing necessities of the suffering and to help the helpless, and teach all the way of industry, righteousness, goodness and thrift).

We came into the church with this pledge. We speak and act for Christ, to the world, in the place or stead of Christ. How do we act for him? We stand as Christ to the world. We are the body of Christ. In us he dwells. How do we represent him?

Recently the Cholera made a fearful visitation upon our people. It fell with especial severity upon the poor. It often first attacked the strong arm, the stay and reliance of the family. If not his, it struck down other members of his family so that he must needs cease to labor, in order to nurse them. Again all business ceased, and he could not get work, to support his family. In one family of industrious people, consisting of a father, mother and six industrious boys and girls, every one died save the mother, and she was prostrated. Another, a family—a nice, well-refined, well-raised family—consisted of a father, a carpenter by trade, a mother feeble with consumption, two daughters about grown, who sewed in a millinery establishment, a daughter and niece, about 12 each.

The father was taken ill and died within a few hours. The eldest daughter followed soon. The youngest daughter and niece lingered days between life and death. Only one daughter, a delicate girl was up, and she continually threatened with an attack; they too at times without a morsel of food, for sick or well.  Another case, among the colored people. The family in one house consisted of a father, mother, a married son with wife and infant, and two small children. The father, mother, son and son’s wife were all taken ill. The two males were buried. The son’s wife died on Friday night. The mother in bed sick, with the infant grandchild and one of her own small [651] children sick. The body remained uncoffined in that house until Monday morning about ten o’clock. No one was present, able to go and report the death to the proper authorities. What think you of a cholera corpse, lying in a small room with three other sick persons in the sultry, hot weather from Friday June 20^th to Monday, June 23^rd?

This occurred a little out of the corporation, but in a thickly populated negro village. We mention these as specimen cases. They are extreme cases, but there were many approximations to them.

Now in view of these things and the wild panic that seized the population, what would Christ have done in the emergency? Had he been a resident of Nashville with ten, twenty or a hundred thousand dollars, what would he have done? What did he do in the person of his representatives here?

Would he have become panic stricken with fear—fear of death, and have used his means to get himself and family, with their fashionable and luxurious appendages out of danger, to some place of fashionable resort and pleasure, and left his poor brethren and neighbors to suffer and perish from neglect and want?

That is just what he did do in the person of many of his professed representatives. In the person of others he retired to the cool shades of his own luxurious and spacious city mansion elevated above the noxious miasms [sic] that destroyed the poor and unfortunate and left them to die, in want and neglect, without attention from him. Did you who so acted bear true testimony to the world for him for whom you profess to act? Was not your course a libel upon him and his character? How can those who so acted again profess to be his children?

The religion of our Savior was intended to make us like Christ, not only in our labor of love—of our self sacrifice for the good of others, but also in raising us above a timid, quaking fear of death. If it does not make us willing to brave death and spend out time and money for the good of our suffering fellow-creatures, offcast and sinners though they be, it does not raise us above a mere empty profession that leaves us scarcely less than hypocrites. The religion that does not induce us to do this essential work of a true Christian cannot save us. The rich often think that they cannot condescend to do the work of nursing and caring for the poor. It is degrading. It is hard I know, just precisely as hard as it is to enter the kingdom of heaven, not a whit more difficult to do the one than the other.

These fatal scourges, under God, become opportunities to show the superior excellence of the Christian religion, in giving true courage, love and self-sacrifice to its votaries. Alas what is it judged by the course of a majority of its professors? What do we better than others, in these days of sorrowful visitation?

Christian men and women should be prudent, and cautious in such surroundings. It is proper, we think, to send women and children, who are incapable of service to the sick, and are liable to the disease beyond its reach, when possible. Bur for able bodied Christian men and women to [652] be flying from the city when their brethren and neighbors and fellow-creatures are suffering and dying for lack of attention and help, is such a contradiction in ideas, we know of no means of reconciling them. We think true Christians would come from the surrounding country and towns to the smitten community to aid the needy. I believe they would bear charmed lives in such a course. God would protect them. We heard Dr. Bowling remark during the greatest fatality, that men doing such a work never took disease and died. But if they did, the feeling and spirit out to be that of the three Hebrew children, when threatened with the fiery furnace, if they did not disobey God. The response was, If God will he can deliver. But whether he will or not, we will not disobey God.

We rejoice to state, that of those who remained in the city, although getting at the work slowly, many met their responsibilities as true men and women and did the bets they knew for the relief of the suffering.

The Sisterhoods of the Romish church were active. They do much for the relief of the suffering. Like all human organizations, they do it with a goodly degree of parade and show. We do not know that they as individuals, intend display of their charities, yet their style of dress and singular appearance and habits, cannot fail to proclaim to the world. Here we are in our acts of mercy. Christian women, dressed like other people may quietly perform much more work among the lowly, without attracting half the attention. Still these women brave danger and pestilence, go to the huts of poverty and sorrow, to nurse and relieve the sick, be it said to their credit.

The Robertson Association, a chartered, charitable association, revived in times like this, collected much means for the relief of the poor and sick. The young men of the church of Christ, divided the work, with both these classes. They, like the others were late getting at the work, but they worked effectually when they did begin.  They found the villages of freedmen around the city most neglected, and suffering greatly. They did their chief work with them. The rapid decrease in the proportionate number of deaths among the blacks attests the efficacy of their labor. The great want of the freedmen was, medicine and proper food.

The Robertson Association kindly placed their means at the disposal of the members of the church who were attending to the wants of the sick.

We were more than ever satisfied that a simple church of God, as constituted of Heaven, is the most efficient organization for good the world ever saw—if kept in proper working order. Other organizations have too much circumlocution, are too slow. They appoint their committeemen and agents after the danger is upon them, and find they have no adaptedness to the work, no natural fitness. The church always, to a greater or less extent, doing such a work, knows exactly when to send, indeed finds the proper individuals at work before she sends, provided she does not ignore and smother out the working spirit of the church, by her offices who are very frequently unadapted to the work to which they are appointed. Frequently in a [653] church the Lord has deacons, who are the church’s deacons. The church’s deacons are those appointed of the church. The Lord’s deacons and deaconesses are those who, in his name, do his work in taking care of the sick, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and visiting those in prison. These are true deacons and deaconesses of the Lord, chosen and approved by the Holy Spirit whether the church ever recognizes the selection or not.

The pastors of the various churches, save one, remained at their posts—gave their flocks proper clerical visitations in sickness and attended the funeral obsequies of the dead. Some of the them actively engaged in relieving the needy. One fell a victim to his own work among the poor, Mr. Royce of Trinity church, Episcopal. The physicians as a class did noble work. Many of them forgot self in laboring for all. Their labor was incessant and trying.

We are satisfied, had one half of the time and means expended by able bodied professors of the Christian religion in fleeing from their homes, been expended in caring for their needy neighbors, in furnishing them with proper food and medicine the disease might have been arrested almost in its incipiency.

Those who did quietly and calmly do their duty although in the midst of pestilence, want, suffering and death, found these the happiest days of their life. Days to which they can always look back with a feeling of true satisfaction. We trust we may all learn that Christian men and women must be possessed of true and calm courage—that they must be able to face death and find true happiness here, as well as a crown of joy hereafter, in doing their duty in all circumstances.

 Second Article

Anonymous and David Lipscomb, “Consistency,” Gospel Advocate 15.33 (21 August 1873) 774-776.

             D. Lipscomb: Dear Bro.—Since Christ, had he been on earth during the recent sickness would have contributed any amount of money, &c., he may have had in supporting and relieving the sick and needy, and as you are so strenuously in favor of others doing so to imitate Him, claiming yourself, of course you spent all you had on hand, (glad we have one person in our city who so glitteringly reflects the image of our adorable Redeemer) judging from you article, “Cholera and Religion,” in last Advocate. Would it not be right for a contribution to be raised now for you, by those who left the city, to relieve your wants—since you must, according to your own argument be left without a “red.” By doing so, could not those who “went fishing” partially restore their religious standing? Would you accept of this generous offering, which certainly would answer in place of what they should have done, if they had been here? Let’s hear from you in the Advocate.—Admirer of Truth and Consistency.

                                    Nashville, Tenn, July 18, 1873.

 

            Ah, my brother, you feel badly over your course. I know you do. I am glad of it. I am in hopes you will feel worse and worse until you determine you will never do so again.—You will never again say, by your actions, that Christ, whose representative you profess to be, whose work you have pledged yourself to perform, would flee from his home and neighbors who were dying for want of food [775] and attention. Your bore a false testimony concerning him, as you do concerning me in your bitter note, to which you were ashamed to place your name. It would have been so much more manly—so much more like a Christian, and then you would have felt so much better, just to have said, I had not considered my duty and obligation in the premises, I became infected with panic, acted unworthily, but by the help of God will try to do so no more, and then like an honest and true man, signed your name to it. It is so bade for a man, especially a Christian man, to write or do a thing of which he is ashamed! I know you feel worse since you wrote it. I am sorry for you, but I can hear your petty malice with perfect composure. But you take the wrong course to get right. You again misrepresent the master. You have said by your action as his servant, Christ would do such a little, unworthy, spiteful thing as this. You know he would not. You say I have claimed to reflect the likeness of Christ during our plague. You know I did not such thing. You know no man could know from that article whether I was in the city or not, whether I had done my duty or not. I live in the country, ten miles from the city—had a sick family when and before the cholera broke out, had cholera in my own neighborhood and might have been perfectly justifiable in staying away from the city, while you were without excuse in fleeing form it. Beside I do not write for the Advocate to tell what I do, but what the Scriptures teach. I do not make the measure of my action, the rule of interpreting or teaching the Scriptures. I fail often to do my duty; that does not prevent my seeing the truth. Whether I was in the city or not, whether I did my duty or not, would not change the truth of my article, not cause me the less, to declare it. The article is true, just and scriptural, and you betray your sense of impenitent guilt by misrepresenting it and me. But were I hungry and needy, I know too much of the world to expect a man who ran from the cholera and then wrote such a letter as the above would aid me. Such men are usually only generous in “offering.” You may be an exception. I intend to test you. While then I am very scarce of “reds” as you call them, and my purse is in as perfect collapse, as if it had had the cholera, I am no object of charity. Never expect to be while God blesses me with health and vigor. But to ease your conscience and relieve your overburdened purse, I will yet find victims of the choler, sadly in need of Christian help, to which I will appropriate all you surplus cash.

Or, to guarantee that it will be faithfully applied, you can pay it to the church treasurer, Bro. Dortch, and under the direction of the Elders or deacons, it shall be appropriated. I will only present to them the cases of need. I have not seen the time for the last eight years that I could not find cases needing Christian help in your city. Now, dear sir, let us see you show that you love truth and consistency in yourself, as well as in others, by being “generous” not only in “offering” but in the doing. I know you will be ashamed to let any one know who wrote such a little [776] spiteful piece, professedly in the name of Christ. So you can enclose your “generosity” in a letter signed as you did the above. A good generous gift to the poor, in the name of Christ, would relieve your soul of its bitter bile and your would fee better, much better.

John T. Lewis on Sunday PM Lord’s Supper

John T. Lewis (1876-1967), a 1906 graduate of the Nashville Bible School and largely responsible for church planting in Birmingham, Alabama, in the first half of the 20th century, penned an interesting tract in 1952 entitled “The Lord’s Supper and the Lord’s Day.” It reflects on the correlation of the Lord’s Supper and the Lord’s Day (Sunday).

His tract offers a specific insight into the beginnings of Sunday night offerings of the Lord’s Supper. The tradition throughout the 19th century within Stone-Campbell churches was to gather around the table and share the Supper in the mornings (sometimes in the mid-afternoon).  It was not–with any frequency–an evening event.  But this changed in the early 20th century.  Here is Lewis’ perspective on the change (p. 11).

That practice began in Nashville, Tennessee, during World War I. One of the congregationas there, I do not recall now which one it was, began carrying the Lord’s supper over till the night services for the benefit of those who had to work on Lord’s day. Lots of brethren objected to it.  Brother C. M. Pullias was living in Birmingham at that time and I know he was opposed to it then. However, the practice has become almost a universal custom among the churches of Christ today, and many think that the congregations that do not have the Lord’s supper on Sunday night are made up of cranks. We have never tried to have the Lord’s supper at night where I preach. If a member cannot meet with the brethren on ‘the Lord’s day,’ I do not think he needs to worry about ‘the Lord’s supper,’ because I do not believe you can have one without the other.

We might surmise from this suggestion that, as far as Lewis knew, offering the Lord’s Supper on Sunday evening was an early 20th century innovation situated in the context of World War I.  It might have started as a way of accomodating those who worked in shifts as factories and plants worked around the clock for the sake of war production.  Since shift work prevented some from attending on Sunday morning, it was also offered on Sunday evening. This may be the origin of the near universal practice–in my experience–of Sunday evening offering of the Supper that was unknown in the 19th century. It became part of the culture and liturgical practice of the Churches of Christ and it was an innovation to accomodate workers.

Lewis believed the Sunday morning assembly–the Lord’s Day assembly–was for the purpose breaking bread. In Acts 20:7, the preaching was “incidental or a secondary matter–that is the way it should always be when we ‘come to gether to break’ bread” (p. 11). “But,” he writes, “our ‘gathering together’ on Sunday night is to hear preaching and the Lord’s supper becomes a secondary matter, and in many places it is taken in a bakc or side room, after the meeing has been dismissed” (p. 12).

Lewis thought this inappropriate at two levels.  First, it severed the link between Lord’s Day and Lord’s Supper since the morning assembly is the gathering designed for the observance of the Lord’s Supper.  He also held a conviction, just as James A. Harding did, that the Lord’s Day is from sunset Saturday to sunset Sunday.  Thus, an evening Supper on Sunday night is not the Lord’s Day.  Second, he thought the practice of a “side room” partaking of the Supper lowered the significance of the Supper and people now viewed the Supper “like the Cathoics” in the sense “they have attended mass and it [didn't] make any difference what they [did] the rest of the day” (preface ).

Lord’s  Supper controversies have been with us for a long time…and will continue to be.  Alas.

James A. Harding: “A Bible Reading on Giving”

James A. Harding, the namesake of Harding University and co-founder of Lipscomb University, placed as much emphasis on giving, tithing and trusting in God’s provisioin as he did any other topic.  The sin of covetousness is idolatry and it “hurts the church more than any other,” he wrote.  We hate the extreme, but we tolerate the subtle when it is the “chief end and aim in life” to make money, where someone “comes to meeting with tolerable regularity, lives well, dresses well, and gives about two percent of his income publicly to the Lord’s cause” but thinks of making money ten times more than anything else.  Such a man “trusts in money” and “he heaps it up” because he does not trust God to take care of him or his family (“Two Dreadful Sins that are Very Prevalent,” Gospel Advocate 29 [1887], 658).

Not money, but the kingdom was Harding’s central concern. How one holds their wealth and how one treats the poor are as significant to discipleship as any other value. He was not opposed to making money, but he advised loaning it to the Lord. ”If Christians are wise,” he wrote, “they will be diligent in business; and then, when they have money, they will use it with a free hand in ministering to widows and orphans, in caring for the poor, in having the gospel preached, or to sum it all up, in lending it to the Lord” (“Scraps. Wealth and How to Use It,” Gospel Advocate 26 [1886], 674). Indeed, Christians should think of their careers as not only participating in the kingdom of God but also that their income is for the sake of the kingdom of God.   “If every Christian in the world would run his business, whatever that may be, solely for the advancement of God’s kingdom; if he should consider himself as being in the world simply and solely for that purpose, what a wonderful change we would have in the world” (“Three Contradictory Theories,” The Way 3.1 [4 April 1901] 4).

Harding was a firm believer that every follower of Christ ought to give “at least” ten percent of their income to helping the poor and helping others proclaim the gospel (“The Churches and the Societies—A Contrast,” Gospel Advocate 25 [1883], 794). Harding practiced what he preached. In 1902 Harding testified that some thirty years previous he had decided to tithe and that over those years he had increased the percentage “eleven times” (“Scraps,” The Way 4 [10 April 1902] 10). L. C. Sears, Harding’s grandson, tells us that “in later years [the Hardings] were giving 65 percent of their income” to the kingdom of God (“J. A. Harding,” in Harding College Lectures 1967 [Austin: Firm Foundation Publishing House, 1967], 74).

His “Bible Reading on Giving,” which is rooted in some specific testimonies from Scripture, has added power because it aries out of the life of family who embodied the principles taught therein. He published it several times, but for the first time in The Way 3 (January 26 1899) 10-12 which was one of his first articles in his newly founded periodical.  The lengthy article is provided below.

     The topic class of the Bible School recently had for the subject of the day: “The Bible Doctrine of Giving.” We will endeavor to reproduce the lesson here as an example of what we do in that class and what will appear from time to time in the The Way. As we read the rich promise of God to those who give, nothing but a lack of faith will prevent us from becoming more generous and whole-hearted in his service.

     1. Abraham paid tithes to Melchisedec.  “And he blessed him, and said, Blessed be Abram of God Most High, possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, which hath delivered thine enemies into thy hand. And he [Abram] gave him a tenth of all.” (Gen. 14:19,20, R.V.; read the entire chapter; also Heb. 7:10.) From this we learn the custom of paying tithes was at least four hundred years older than the law of Moses. It was incorporated in that law, but was recognized as a righteous thing to do for hundreds of years before. The Arabs, the Greeks, the inhabitants of Sicily and those of the Roman province of Asia, the Carthaginians, Phenicians [sic], and many other ancient nations, especially those of the East, paid tithes. Among the Mohammedan States is I practiced to this day. Many Christians regularly give the full tenth of their incomes to the Lord; some of them, much more than this. The law of Moses required a tenth to be given to the Levites; and, as it appears, a second tenth was to be expended at Jerusalem at the annual feasts for feeding the poor. If every member of the church of God would give one-tenth of his entire income to the Lord, what an abundance we would have for attending to our poor and for spreading the gospel! Abraham’s giving did not impoverish him; he grew richer and richer; and no man of his day was so highly honored and blessed by the Lords.

     2. “And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I come again to my father’s house in peace; then shall the Lord be my God, and this stone, which I have set up for a pillar, shall be God’s house; and of all that thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto thee.” (Gen. 28:20-22). When Jacob made this vow, he was going from his father’s house, with no property but the staff in his hand; when he returned twenty or forty years later, he was rich in wives, children, herds, flocks, and servants—so rich that he considered it a little thing to make his brother a present of five hundred and eighty animals, including goats, sheep, camels, kine, and asses. He did not lose anything by giving a tenth.

     3. “Honor the Lord with they substance, and with the fist fruits of all thine increase; so shall they barns be filled with plenty, and they vats shall overflow with new wine.” (Prov. 3:9,10.) Here is a positive promise that if a man will honor the Lord in giving, as he ought to do, he shall be blessed with an abundance—a promise that all believers in the Bible are assured was most fully kept in Old Testament times; but many are not so fully assured that it holds good now, and hence they are afraid to give. Many  Christians, according to their own confessions, give but trifling sums for the support of the religion of Christ, not as much as they spend for coffee or tobacco or for some secret society or for a pleasure trip to Niagara. Some will spend more for a piano for their children than they will give in five years for the cause of Christ.  Surely they do not believe the promise holds good now; but we will see about that when we come to the quotations from the New Testament.

     4. “There is that scattereth, and in increaseth yet more; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth only to want. The liberal soul shall be made fat; and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.” (Prov. 11:24,25, R.V.) It pays to please God. He who is generous and liberal in ministering to others, who does to others as he would have them do to him, pleases the Father, and the Father will not fail to bless him most abundantly here and hereafter.

     Jesus says: “Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or mother, or father, or children, or lands, for my sake, and for the gospel’s sake, but he shall receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions: and in the world to come eternal life.” (Mark 10:29,30, R.V.). So Jesus spoke then, and he changes not. He is “the same yesterday and to-day, yea and forever;” and he who does not believe it is as much as an infidel, it seems to me, as he who does not believe “He that believeth [10] and is baptized shall be saved.” Every word of God is true, one as true as another; every promise of God is good, and any one of them is just as certain to be fulfilled as any other as any other one when the conditions have been complied with. When one takes God at his word and acts on his promise; when he is liberal and grows in liberality, the fulfillment of the promises greatly strengthens his faith till he can say in full assurance by faith: I know that God “is, and that he is a rewarder of them that seek after him.” Such faith becomes like knowledge, and is called knowledge in the Bible.

     5. “He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord, and his good deed will he pay him again.” (Prov. 19:17, R.V.) Sam. Jones, I believe it was, who, in commenting upon this passage, said: “If you like the security, come down with the cash.” If a man gives to the poor in the name of the Lord, he lends to the Lord; and who can believe that with such a loan in his possession the Lord would let that man suffer from want? Even a kind, just man would promptly pay a debt, if he could, if he were to see the lender pressed hard for the money. Especially would he be prompt in returning it, if it had been loaned to him in sympathy when he himself was in some straits. If men are thoughtful and generous in such things, is not God infinitely more so? Many a man has refrained from giving to the poor when they needed help badly, or from contributing to the Lord’s cause when a fine opportunity for doing good thereby presented itself, because he was afraid he would come to want if he should spend his money in that way. What a mistake! That is the very way to lay up money so as to be sure to have it at hand ready for use when you really need it. It is right to be wise and discreet in giving, but be sure to give.

     6. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what man is there of you, who, if his son shall ask him for a loaf, will give him a stone; or if he shall ask for a fish, will give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him? All things therefore whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do ye also unto them; for this is the law and the prophets.” (Matt. 7:7-12, R.V.) It is sometimes said that Jesus does not argue; the he simply states his case on his own authority without giving reasons to convince the understanding of his hearer. But notice how fine and strong the argument is here, and how logical the conclusion. Men who are weak, sinful, and selfish give good things to their children, when they ask for them; how much more, then, will the infinitely good, strong, wise, and unselfish Heavenly Father give good things to his children? It is only necessary that they should ask him in faith, with a confidence and affection similar to that which they feel to their earthly fathers. A kind, earthly father will withhold no good thing from his affectionate, obedient child that he can in righteousness give to him; so the Heavenly Father withholds no good thing from them that walk uprightly. Notice also how clearly the conclusion follows from this argument. Inasmuch as God’s child can get what he needs, when he needs it, by asking for it, he can afford to give freely to other that need; so Jesus says, in conclusion of this paragraph: “All things therefore whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do ye also unto them.” And this is what it is to love your neighbor as yourself. Do you believe what Jesus says here, my brother? If you do, you will act upon it; if you do not act upon it, you do not believe it.

     7. “Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, shall they give into your bosom. For with what measure ye mete it shall be measured to you again.” (Luke 6:38, R.V.) Here the Savior teaches not only that we should give, but that we should give abundantly; for even as we give to others, so also will men give to us; God will see to it that it shall be so; he gives to us through men. Man a man is poor and has a hard time, and devotes nearly all of his time and thought to making a living, and makes a poor one at that, simply because he is close and niggardly and fearful. If he would take God at his word and begin at once, with a cheerful heart, to give a liberal pr cent of his income to the Lord’s cause, his affairs would brighten up at once.  Do you doubt it? And what will become of you if you live and die doubting Christ? The beautiful story of the Shunammite woman (see 2 Kings 4:8-37; 8:1-6) illustrates how God deals with the generous-hearted who do good to his servants. This woman saw that Elisha was a man of God, and, at her suggestion, she and her husband built a room for [11] him “on the wall” and furnished it, that he might turn in at any time as he passed to and fro. As a result of her kindness, God gave her a son, and when her property had been lost to her and her son by their long absence on account of a famine, it was all returned to her again, with all the fruits of it from the time of her departure till she returned. This is not an exception; it is simply an illustration of the rule.

      8. “But this I say, He that soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he that soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully. Let each man do according as he hath purposed in his heart; not grudgingly, or of necessity; for God loveth a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound unto you; that ye, having always all sufficiency in everything, may abound unto every good work: as it is written, He hath scattered abroad, he hath given to the poor; his righteousness abideth forever. And he that supplieth seed to the sower and bread for food, shall supply and multiply your seed for sowing, and increase the fruits of your righteousness; ye being enriched in everything unto all liberality, which worketh through us thanksgiving to God.” (2 Cor. 9:6-11, R.V.) Let us notice carefully the lessons to be drawn from this passage.  Paul was exhorting the Corinthians, as he had before taught them, and the disciples of Macedonia and Galatia, to give to the poor saints in Judea. The land of Palestine was greatly troubled at this time. The troubles that culminated in the destruction of Jerusalem, and in the awful miseries that afflicted the Jewish people at that time, were already distressing the people; business was interrupted, agriculture interfered with, and the Hebrew Christians were poor and poorly prepared to stand the famine.

     (a) In exhorting the  Gentile Christians to contribute to their wants, Paul teaches the following lessons:

     (b) Giving in God’s service is not squandering the means for your own support in old age or sickness; it is rather a sowing from which you may expect to reap a big harvest, when the need comes, if you have sown liberally.

    (c) If a man gives little, he will receive little; if he gives much, he will receive much.

    (d) Each one should give cheerfully as he chooses to give, and not at the dictation of another; for God loves a cheerful giver.

    (e) God is not only able to supply you abundantly with all that you need, but, when you do liberally and cheerfully give in his service, he will supply and multiply your seed for sowing, and he will increase the fruits of your righteousness, so that you shall be enriched in everything, and your liberality shall cause many thanksgivings to go up to God.

     My brother, do you believe this doctrine? Then you will give liberally, and, as your faith grows, you will give more and more. You will not long be content with giving a tenth; soon you will give fifteen cents on the dollar—then twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-three and one-third, thirty-five, and so on; for you will find that the more you give, the more you will have to give, and the more good you can do, and the more the name of God will be glorified in you. As Solomon says: “The liberal soul shall be made fat; and he that watereth shall be watered himself.”

     9. “Be ye free from the love of money; content with such tings as ye have: for himself hath said, I will in nowise fail thee, neither will I in any wise forsake thee. So that with good courage we say, The Lord is my helper; I will not fear: what shall man do unto me? Remember them that had rule over you, which spake unto you the word of God; and considering the issue of their life, imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day, yea and forever.” (Heb. 13:5-8, R.V.)  This is a good passage and one that we need to meditate much upon. “Be ye free from the love of money.” As an illustration of what it is to love money to the very greatest degree, consider the following incident:  While waiting at a railway station, a few nights ago, I overheard a man say to another: “My greatest pleasure is in making money; and my next greatest pleasure is in keeping it.” What a worshiper of Mammon! With him money was far above every other God. Never before had I heard a man so openly and boldly announce himself a money worshiper, an idolater, an utterly selfish man. Perhaps there are not many as bas as he proclaimed himself to be; but there are many people who love money, who hoard it, who are misers without knowing it. Many others are selfish and spend money rather for their own pleasures than for the cause of Christ. The miser takes pleasure in making money and in keeping it; even self-denial and pain become pleasures to him when they enable him to make and keep money. The Christian should take pleasure in making money by honorable diligence that he may spend it for Christ; self-denial and pain should give him pleasure when he realizes that thereby he is advancing the cause of Christ. As the chief pleasure of [12] the ardent Mammon worshiper is to make and keep money, so the chief pleasure of the child of God should be to advance the cause of his Master in every way that he can. With him the all-important thing should be the service of Christ, the glorification of his name, the extension of his kingdom, the salvation of his people; this devotion should be so far first in his heart that all other interests are as nothing in comparison with it. God help us to be real Christians.

      This passage teaches that the Christian need not concern himself about how he will come out, if he is thus free from the love of money, and content with such things as he has, for the apostle reminds us that  God has said: “I will in no wise fail thee, neither will I in any wise forsake thee.” And Jesus, long before this letter to the Hebrews was written, had said: “Seek ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you;” and the Master was talking about our temporal needs—food, raiment, and such things—when he said it. Then the apostle exhorts these Hebrew Christians to remember the ancient worthies who had the rule over them, and who spoke unto them the word of God; and he tells them to consider their lives, to observe how they terminated, and to imitate their faith. He wants us to consider Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Samuel, David, Jeremiah, Daniel, and the great host of heroes of the former days, and to live lives of faith and self-denial like they did.  Are you afraid to do it? Do you fear that such a life would not turn out so well for you? Then he reminds you that Christ has not changed; he is the same being they served—just as strong, just as wise and good and loving, just as considerate of his servants as he ever was, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and to-day, yea and forever.” He just as positively tells us under the new covenant the he will give us temporal blessings as he spoke it to them under the old covenant; his assurances that he will hear and answer prayer now are just as full and complete as they were then. All that is lacking is that we should believe now as those grand servants of God believed then, and the blessings will be poured out upon us in abundance.

      I have quoted, in this article, as I do generally, from the Revised Version. If you will compare the quotations with the same passages in the Common Version, you will see how much stronger and clearer some of them are in the Revision.   J.A. H.

R. C. Bell: A Lament Over A Theological Shift Among Churches of Christ

R. C. Bell (1877-1964) attended the Nashville Bible School from 1896-1901. James A. Harding took Bell with him as a faculty member at the newly founded Potter Bible College in 1901. Later Bell would teach at several different colleges among Churches of Christ and eventually ended up at Abilene Christian College as a beloved teacher.

In 1959, Bell was asked to give a lecture on “A Lifetime Spent in Christian Education” and he used the opportunity to lament the shift among Churches of Christ that distressed him. In his autobiographical article in the 1951 Firm Foundation he had warned that the church needed a new infusion of the kingdom theology of James A. Harding in order “to save [it] from chaning divine dynamics to human mechanics” (“Honor to Whom Honor is Due,” Firm Foundation 68 [6 November 1951], 6). Now, in his closing years, describes what is lacking among Churches of Christ in 1959.

Below is the whole speech, but I wanted to highlight what I think is the essence of his point with the following selection taken from different parts of the speech:

Especially, [Harding’s] soul-kindling faith in God as a personal Friend matched the wave length of my eager, hungry heart. I caught his contagious enthusiasm for God as a Father who personally identifies himself with each of His own, and for the Holy Spirit as a Comforter who personally resides in and empowers every Christian, slowly enough.  However, [his] conception of Christianity as “a divine-human encounter,” in which immediate spiritual communion between God and man is established and perpetually maintained, gradually, became also my conception of Christianity.

I also knew that in such vital matters as Christians being crucified to the world and the world’s being crucified to Christians (Gal. 6:14), and as Christians really believing with all their hearts that the Holy Spirit was working personally in them to help their infirmity, to pray unutterable prayers for them, and to make all things work together for their good (Rom. 8:26-28) so that they, ever mindful of the Lord’s presence, might be anxious about nothing, praying in everything, thankful in anything, and possess “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Phil. 4:5-7), the primitive church was not being fully restored. In short, I knew that church of which I was a member was not identical in all things with the church of the New Testament.

With more and more lived faith, as the years passed and I myself increased in spiritual stature, I taught, first, that the personal presence and conjoint working of the “Three-personal God” (Father and Son and Spirit) in and through cooperating Christians is at the very heart of Christianity; and second that Christianity, primarily, consists, not in what Christians do for Christ, but in what Christ does for Christians.

When Christians fail to make use of the sanctifying portion of Christianity, as though it were an optional adjunct instead of the built-in essential which it is, they harden into harsh, unloving, unloved, self-sanctifying, unlawful legalists and defeated Pharisees, biting and devouring one another as the Galatians were doing (Gal. 5:13-15). A man’s unchristian self-effort to justify himself no more certainly leads to arrogant self-righteousness than does the same kind of effort to sanctify himself.

His emphasis on a personal (relational) dynamic is at the heart of what Bobby Valentine and I have called the “Tennessee Tradition.” He stresses what God does for us rather than what we do for God. He emphasizes a sanctification of life that is rooted in a divine-human encounter rather than located in a correct form. He hopes for a sanctified Christianity rather than an unloving legalism.

I believe Bell laments the shift among Churches of Christ from the Tennessee themes of his young adulthood to the Texas themes of his old age. Something, he feels, was lost. It was present in his mentor Harding and in the early institutions of the century (Nashville Bible School and Potter Bible College). He fears, however, it might be lost now. or at least marginalized.

Read his speech and feel his pain but also recognize his deep relationship with God and fervent faith in the God who can work redemption in our hearts and in/through our churches.

The following text was scanned and edited by Bobby Valentine, my good friend and co-author. I thank him for sharing it with me and now with you. The text is from Things that Endure: Third Annual Lectureship, Lubbock Christian College (Jackson, TN: Nichols Brothers, 1960).

“A LIFETIME SPENT IN CHRISTIAN EDUCATION”

 R. C. BELL

 At the age of eighteen years, three years after becoming a Christian, I enrolled as a student in the Nashville Bible School, Nashville, Tennessee, in 1896. That School grew directly into David Lipscomb College, and less directly into a score of other colleges, several of which, though now dead as colleges, yet speak.

 As an example of this deathless life of Christian education, the Shorts, the Scotts, the Merritts, the Reeses, and the Lawyers, most of whom have become two-generation families of missionaries in Africa, received the inspiration for their life-work in Western Bible and Literary College, Odessa, Missouri, and in Cordell Christian College, Cordell, Oklahoma, two schools that ceased to function as schools years ago. Then, think of the good in the world today that has its roots in Thorp Spring Christian College of our own state before her doors were closed.

 Under the teaching and daily influence of such men as David Lipscomb, James A. Harding and J. N. Armstrong, dedicated men serving God as school teachers, I soon began to see that Paul’s characterization of some who would hold a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof described me. Especially, Brother Harding’s soul-kindling faith in God as a personal Friend matched the wave length of my eager, hungry heart. I caught his contagious enthusiasm for God as a Father who personally identifies himself with each of His own, and for the Holy Spirit as a Comforter who personally resides in and empowers every Christian, slowly enough.  However, Brother Harding’s conception of Christianity as “A divine-human encounter,” in which immediate spiritual communion between God and man is established and [p. 105] perpetually maintained, gradually, became also my conception of Christianity. I shall ever be thankful unto the Sovereign Master of the mysterious sea of life for launching my life before the earthly voyage of this Man of God was over.

 This fuller understanding of Christianity changed the axis of my life and turned my world upside down. The revolution in my life with its new scale of values was similar, except that I had nothing to lose, to the revolution that Paul’s becoming a Christian made in his life. After naming seven fleshly things of which Jews were exceedingly proud, Paul declares that he no longer has “Confidence in the flesh,” but considers the things which were once all-important to him to be gainfully exchanged for Christ, for whom he suffers the loss of all things and counts them but refuse (Phil. 3:5-8). That Paul’s and Harding’s interpretation of Christianity, which I have up to my measure labored over a lifetime to impart to students, would have ever been mine, had I not attended the Nashville Bible School, is doubtful.  In any event that is where my revolution occurred.

 That the Gospel which Paul and Harding preached and practiced does so revolutionize lives was demonstrated in a family I knew sixty years ago. When the time came for the third son in that family, whose two older brothers had attended the Nashville Bible School, to go to college, his father, an “elder” in his congregation, said that, since Brother Harding had already ruined two of his boys, he wanted the third boy to go to another college.

 While I was at the Nashville school, the idea of teaching the Bible in such a school, in the Providence of God, as a life work grew steadily upon me. As I did not know, then, so well as I know, that I was better fitted by nature for this type of work than for exclusively preaching, the final decision did not come easily. All the while, I was praying God to guide my thinking, feeling and deciding, and I have never doubted that He did so. Consequently, when Brother Harding started another college at Bowling Green, Kentucky, named Potter Bible College, and asked me to become a member of [p.106] his faculty, I took his invitation as God’s opening a door for me. Religiously and gratefully therefore, I began in this manner a lifetime spent in Christian education in 1901 to continue until my retirement from the faculty of Abilene Christian College in 1951 – an even half century.

 I entered upon this work with the twofold conviction that the movement to restore Primitive Christianity was not fully materializing: first, because Christ was not being exalted to the position of solitary pre-eminence and dominant centrality as life-giving, all-pervading personal Savior that He occupied in His church when it was first inaugurated; and, second, His church, inasmuch as the Flesh and the Spirit “Are contrary the one to the other,” needed less Flesh and more Spirit – that is, less man and more God. May I add candidly and modestly that I began this work in the hope of helping to make the church of the twentieth century more like the church of the first century.

 Of course I knew that in such essential matters as there being but one church, as baptism being for the remission of sins, and as singing being the only music, the primitive church was being restored. But I also knew that in such vital matters as Christians being crucified to the world and the world’s being crucified to Christians (Gal. 6:14), and as Christians’ really believing with all their hearts that the Holy Spirit was working personally in them to help their infirmity, to pray unutterable prayers for them, and to make all things work together for their good (Rom. 8:26-28) so that they, ever mindful of the Lord’s presence, might be anxious about nothing, praying in everything, thankful in anything, and possess “The peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Phil. 4:5-7), the primitive church was not being fully restored. In short, I knew that church of which I was a member was not identical in all things with the church of the New Testament.

 With more and more live faith, as the years passed and I myself increased in spiritual stature, I taught, first, that the personal presence and conjoint working of the “Three-personal God” (Father and Son and Spirit) in and through cooperat- [p.107] ing Christians is at the very heart of Christianity; and second that Christianity, primarily, consists, not in what Christians do for Christ, but in what Christ does for Christians. What Christ with divine insight and foresight, and with anxious heart, said to correct the misplaced joy of the Seventy when they returned to Him rejoicing that the demons were subject unto them, namely, “Rejoice not that the spirits are subject unto you; but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:20), continually became deeper and richer in meaning to me. Without this cardinal Christian truth which Christ impressed upon the Seventy, Christianity cannot properly function and fulfill itself. Christians, know that only Christ can write their names in heaven and that they can do nothing apart from Him so as to deserve credit for themselves, choose to let Him live in them to express Himself by doing Christian things in and through their surrendered personalities and bodies (Gal. 2:20).

 Across the years of my teaching in our Christian colleges, thousands of young people of the onrushing, swelling stream of humanity, often from two, sometimes from three, generations of the same family, still in the susceptible time of life, passed through my classes. As a teacher can never tell in which students the seed he scatters will “Spring up and grow, he knoweth not how,” I considered everyone one of these students, without respect of persons, a seedbed entrusted by parents and God to my sowing. A Christian teacher sows the word of God in hope, wherever, he may, both morning and evening, for he knoweth not “Whether this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.”

Of course some of the seed I sowed fell by the wayside, some on rocky ground, some among thorns, some upon “Good ground, and yielded fruit, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.” These good-ground hearers, a goodly number as pioneers in remote lands among strange peoples, many more, very many more, as evangelists, located preachers, elders, deacons, teachers of classes, business men, professional men, and all the rest, certainly including the self-effacing, godly women [p. 108] – unmarried, wives, mothers—are all, according to their respective personalities, talents, circumstances, and fidelity, wells of living “Water springing up unto eternal life.” Probably, this host of Christian men and women now scattered over the face of the earth, during our close associations as students and teacher, helped me more than I helped them. With what ecstasy, we shall at last bring in our ever increasing harvest of souls to become a part of the “Great multitude, which no man can number, out of every nation and of all tribes, peoples and tongues!”

 If students seemed but little interested sometimes in what I was trying to teach them, and apparently were not getting much into the heart of things, I was encouraged and strengthened to continue the teaching, kindly, patiently, hopefully, when I recalled that I subconsciously received good seed into my soul in Nashville that brought forth Christian fruit in future years. Yea, that seed is even now “Living and active … and quick to discern the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Many times have I with joy seen this experience of mine repeated in my students, a fact to which they freely testify.

 For just about half of the time I have spent in our colleges, I received no regular salary. Throughout the first eighteen years, and during some years since, my income was meager—even insufficient to meet the necessary expenses of my family. But this income, supplemented by what I received for preaching appointments on Sundays and evangelistic meetings during summer vacations, was ever a competency. We could have scarcely known this competency, however, had not my wife been a frugal, self-sacrificing homemaker and help meet in all things. She and I were happy classmates under Brother Harding his last year at Nashville, and, knowing the economic situation involved, planned our lifework together that year. Never has a husband and father had more unselfish help and encouragement from his wife and children to give himself wholly to his work than I have had. Mrs. Bell and I together share the esteem of former students and other friends, and together we hope to share Christ’s reward through all eternity.

 [p.109] As the subject the committee assigned me, “A Lifetime Spent in Christian Education,” does not exclude the years of my retirement, I wish to say, a few words about this period.  God, I believe, closed my classroom door eight years ago, and as He is not to be limited to miracles in religion any more than He is in nature, opened, superhumanly but without miracle, another door to me. I beg you, brethren, to feel brotherly toward me when I tell you that I have wondered whether there is not another analogy between God’s giving retirement to Paul in prison that he might write his elevated “Prison Epistles” and His giving me retirement that I might try to teach these same four Epistles through the Press.  Men who know God expect Him to do such things. Asked Mordecai of Esther, who had become queen of Persia by “good luck” as men say, in a national crises when only her perilous, dauntless deed could save the Jews from destruction, “Who knoweth whether thou art not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Est. 4:14).

When the late, beloved G.H.P. Showalter, Editor of the Firm Foundation, whom I had written that I had time and disposition to write some for his paper, kindly encouraged my writing, I began “Studies” in some of the Books of the New Testament, which I had been teaching for many years in college. After Brother Lemmons became Editor of the magazine, he graciously continued to publish my “Studies,” and continues to do so even until now. These “Studies,” since being printed in the Firm Foundation as separate articles, have been collected and published by the Firm Foundation Publishing House as booklets, or in the case of Romans as a book. I am truly grateful to these two good men for enabling me to continue my lifetime business of teaching God’s word. With this writing, two weekly Bible classes which I have continued to teach in the College Church, and other duties, I have been busy and happy.

 “Let one more attest

I have lived, seen God’s hand through a lifetime,

And all was for best.”

 Now, may a veteran make some suggestions for Christians [p. 110] in general by calling attention to some constitutionally Christian truths. When God purposed and wrought to redeem the sin-unk world, He was too wise and too good an Economist to include anything the vast Enterprise did not need. His work is never either deficient or redundant. It takes all of Christianity as God made it, therefore to justify, to sanctify, to spiritualize and to glorify Satanically deluded and deflowered humanity. As it takes the blood of God’s Son to justify men by washing away their sins, even so it takes the power of God’s Spirit to continue the redemptive work by sanctifying those who have been justified so that they may not continue to sin. To break the stranglehold of sin from Adam onward (Rom. 7:17-24), to lead upward out of the power and practice of sin unto the lofty “Sanctification of the Spirit” (2 Thes. 2:13), “Without which no man shall see the Lord” (Heb 2:14) as far transcends the utmost human reach as does to justify alien sinners by remitting the guilt and the penalty of their sins to begin with. Sanctification and holiness are by grace in the same way that justification and pardon are by grace. It matters not where men start in to save themselves by law, they “Make void the grace of God.” Indeed, Christianity all the way, from its beginning on earth unto heaven is all by grace. To add the principle of law with its inevitable meritorious works anywhere along the way implies that, inasmuch as men can save themselves, “Christ died for nought” (Gal. 2:21).

 When Christians fail to make use of the sanctifying portion of Christianity, as though it were an optional adjunct instead of the built-in essential which it is, they harden into harsh, unloving, unloved, self-sanctifying, unlawful legalists and defeated Pharisees, biting and devouring one another as the Galatians were doing (Gal. 5:13-15). A man’s unchristian self-effort to justify himself no more certainly leads to arrogant self-righteousness than does the same kind of effort to sanctify himself.

 But when Christians repent deeply enough to lose all “Confidence in the flesh,” to renounce all unchristian self- [p. 111] help, and in profound contrition to make use of all of Christianity, they grow into loving, compassionate, lawful, gracious, spiritual, Christian men and women. Because “Love is the fulfilling of the law” (Rom. 13:10), Christianity is God’s perfect way of making mature, lawful men. Behold, God as amazingly proficient Philosopher, Metaphysician, Psychologist and Psychiatrist!

 Does not Christ teach in His story of the “Good Samaritan” that zealots of law have no “compassion”? Can men without compassion have the mind of Christ, or of Paul? The best demonstration of how these respective religions of Law and of Grace work out in life is the hard, touch, cruel, cold-blooded Saul under law becoming the compassionate, gracious, gentle, warmhearted Paul under grace—the last bit of legal ice melted into tears, and as emotionally saturated and tender as a  good woman.

 Finally, my brethren, to give disproportionate importance to what we are doing for Christ as compared to what He is doing for us, thereby upsetting the inherent relationship between the divine and the human elements of Christianity, is, I fear, a more common and deadly perversion of the Gospel than we realize. There was the perversion that Christ corrected in the Seventy, and that Paul, knowing that in effect it made Christianity just another legal religion in which Christians try to earn merit and security before God by directly obeying law in their own natural strength, wrote the book of Galatians, with its stern warning against falling “Away from grace” (Gal. 5:4) to crush. This basic distortion of God’s Christianity, with its powerful, bewitching appeal to human pride and self-sufficiency, was departure enough from the Christian religion of grace and life toward the obsolete Mosaic religion of law and death to alarm Paul to his depths. And this enticing heresy, in modern dress, can just as subtly and effectually corrupt the only Christ-centered religion on earth today, with the power to forgiven sins and make men holy, into another of the countless, man-centered religions too “weak and beggarly” to take away sins, as it effected this corruption in its ancient [p. 112] Galatian dress. Here lurks an exceedingly insidious danger for any Christian, anywhere, anytime.

 Not until we cease trying to sanctify ourselves by misguided self-help, can we ever attain unto the “Sanctification of the Spirit.” Paul says that he had to die to law as a means of salvation before God could save him by grace (Gal. 2:19). Sanctification by legally meritorious works and moral character, and sanctification by Gospel grace and forgiveness are mutually exclusive—they simply will not mix. We must make our choice between the two, but the choice of either annuls the other. “But if it is by grace, it is no more of works: otherwise it is no more of grace” (Rom. 11:6). God made Christianity to work in this way, and it will not work in any other way. 

 Only God knows how much of the fleshliness, lukewarmness [sic], and lack of “Righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17), with their accompanying discouragement, fear of missing heaven at last, backsliding and despair among us today comes from our vain striving to do that which God never intended we should attempt to do in our own sin-corroded, disabled nature. Our very nature is against us; we must be born again of the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his” (Rom. 8:8,9).  When we, believing that “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God,” cooperate with God by freely using His freely given superhuman love, wisdom, and power, we shall be contributing to the restoration of Primitive Christianity.”

Daniel Sommer on the Public Religious “Duties and Privileges” of Women

Daniel Sommer (1850-1840), a graduate of Bethany College and the heralded successor of Benjamin Franklin among northern conservatives, lived and worked among congregations of Churches of Christ who were more open to the public voice of women than their southern counterparts.  In particular, at least in the article below, Sommer is quite explicit about the “priviledge” of women to publicly read Scripture and exhort the congregation in their worship assemblies.  Southern congregations, particularly in the Tennessee Tradition of David Lipscomb and James A. Harding, opposed any public reading and exhortation of women in the assembly.  In this the northern conservatives, often more “right-wing” than the southerners, are more progressive (or biblical?) than the southerners. In fact, the Tennesee folk are one the “extremes” to which Sommer refers.

Daniel Sommer, “Woman’s Religious Duties and Privileges in Public,” Octographic Review 44.34 (20 August 1901) 1,

Extreme begets extremes in all departments of life, and at all angles of religious thought. As a result we are requested to write in regard to woman’s public religious duties and privileges.

What woman is divinely commanded to do is no doubt her duty regardless of what any human being may think or wish, approve or disapprove. That she is commanded to become a Christian just as publicly as the circumstances of her obedience may suggest is admitted by all who read the New Testament aright, also by many others. That woman is likewise commanded to worship publicly as a Christian is likewise admitted by all who think seriously on the subject. Thus we need not quote scripture on the subject, nor reason thereon in any measure or degree. Moreover, that it is the woman’s duty as a Christian to obey the scripture which says, ‘I suffer not a woman to teach nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence,” (1 Tim. 2:12), is likewise admitted, as well as the reasons which Paul gives for such restrictions.

But what do these restrictions embrace? Here is the only question to be decided and this is not difficult if we be unbiased. Certainly they do not restrict women in regard to her worship, and thus she is not restricted in regard to communing, singing, and praying in public. Any reasoning which will prevent woman from praying in public will prevent her from communing and singing.

But may a woman who is a Christian in good standing arise in a congregation and publicly read in audible tones a portion of scripture without comment? The answer to this depends on whether reading is in the New Testament called teaching. In 1 Tim. 4:13 Paul says, “ Till I come give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine.” The revised version gives the word “teaching” instead of “doctrine.” This ought to settle the question and enable all to understand that a woman may without comment read any part of the Bible publicly without thereby becoming a public teacher. But when a woman comments on scripture, applying and enforcing its meaning, she then and there becomes a public teacher and falls under condemnation of Paul’s restriction.

But may a woman teach a class in this meeting house without falling under condemnation? The question is troubling some congregations. Its answer depends on whether Paul’s restriction on women in regard to speaking did or did not refer to the public congregation when assembled. In 1 Cor. 14:34, 35 Paul says, “Let your women keep silence in the churches…For it is a shame for a woman to speak in the church.” The translation called “Living Oracles” gives us “congregations” and “congregation” in the foregoing scriptures, and this is correct. The “silence” which Paul enjoined on woman was therefore in the “congregation” when assembled, and in regard to teaching and authority. But teaching a class, especially a class of children, in a meeting house does not conflict with such restriction. Therefore, we conclude that it is woman’s privilege to teach a class in a meeting house.

Woman is the first divinely ordained teacher of children. She is made thus by nature, and God is the author of nature. Besides, Timothy’s mother and grandmother are honorably mentioned in connection with the mention that is made of the faith that was in him. (2 Tim. 1:5.)  Finally, aged women are required to be teachers of young women. (Titus 2:3-5.) Yet they must do such teaching in such manner and circumstances of Paul’s restriction. But that restriction simply forbids a woman being a teacher in the public congregation and forbids her usurping authority over the man. Up to this restriction woman may go; beyond this restriction she should not go.

But as exhortation and teaching are different the question arises, May a woman exhort in the public congregation? This question is sometimes asked, and should be answered. In response thereto we state that where Paul had “no command” of the Lord he simply gave his “judgment” as one that had “obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful.” (1 Cor. 7:25.) We do the same, and our “judgment” is that if a sister in good standing wishes to arise in a congregation and offer an exhortation it is her privilege to do so, but let her be careful not to become a teacher. She should simply exhort on the basis of what has been taught, or on what is generally understood in the assembly, and at all times, both publicly and privately, she should avoid usurping authority over man. This needs to be emphasized, especially in the United States, where woman is so highly praised that, in many instances, she forgets the word of God, and becomes a dictator.

But may not a woman lead a woman’s prayer meeting or even preside at the Lord’s table when no mean are present who are capable of so doing? Here again we have no command but our “judgment.” A woman’s prayer meeting is not the kind of “congregation” of which Paul was writing in 1 Cor. 14^th chapter. It is not a public assembly. Neither should an assembly of women on the Lord’s day to break bread be thus regarded. Men—godly men—are divinely intended to be the public teachers, and regulators of established congregations, and the public preachers to build up congregations. But with these exceptions, women—godly women—are privileged, and, in most particulars, are duty bound, to be partakers with godly men in their religious work. Priscilla helped her husband to teach a preacher named Apollos the way of the Lord more fully (Acts 18:24-26), and they were among Paul’s “helpers in Christ Jesus.” Rom. 16:3. But this does not mean that Priscilla was a public teacher or a preacher. All that she is reported as having don could have been accomplished by her without one public speech.

The foregoing paragraphs are submitted to our readers, not as an exhaustive discussion, anticipating all possible objections of gainsayers, but as sufficient to indicate the public duties and privileges of godly woman [sic] in the public congregation.

“Woman’s Privilege”: Two Views

James A. Harding began his publication The Way in 1899 in order to disseminate to a larger audience what was being taught at the Nashville Bible School.  At the same time J. B. Briney, a longtime friend and now adversary of Harding, started his own monthly paper entitled Briney’s Monthly,  The two papers sparred back and forth on several issues, including the role of women in the public assembly. 

Though Briney (pictured here) and Harding were at one time close associates (Briney had preached at Harding’s hometown church in Winchester, KY for four years}, they found themselves on different sides of the fence on issues like instrumental music, missionary socieites, and the role of women in the public assembly.

When The Way merged with Rowe’s Christian Leader in 1904, Harding found himself in some heated discussions about the role of women.  Briney’s paper (which would come to representn some of the conservative thinking among the Christian Church) and Daniel Sommer’s paper (Octographic Review) essentially held the same position on the role of women in public worship. Harding responded with quite a few articles on the topic.

In the exchange below, Harding reprints an article by George Bersot (who attended Eminence College in KY with Briney) on the privilege of women to which Harding responds.   This is simply one example among many of the kind of discussion that engulfed the Stone-Campbell Movement in the first decade of the 20th century.  Along with instrumental music, missionary societies, higher criticism as wella s various sociological and sectional perspectives, the role of women became a dividing line between the Christian Church and Churches of Chrsit.

Harding’s views extended beyond the public assemblies of the church into the public roles of women in society.  In another place than given below, Harding argued that the

“New Testament does not allow women to usurp authority over men by teaching and leading in the church, because it is wrong for her so to ursurp authority anywhere. It seems clear to me that the same principles that prevent her from teaching in the church, prevail in the schoolroom or anywhere else; it is a question of women ursurping authority over men and becomeing leaders of them” (“Questions and Answers,” The Way 4 [5 March 1903], 417).

Harding’s own position may be summarized in this way:

• Women should have no public role in the church and society.
• Women are forbidden any public leadership in the church and society.
• The voice of women should only be heard through singing in the public assemby.
• Women should wear a veil (covering) as they participate in the public assembly.

Bersot’s position, similiar to Sommer’s, is that women may audibly participate in every aspect of the assembly except those speaking roles which involved “authoritative” teaching (e.g., evangelists and bishops).

Below is the text of Bersot’s article followed by Harding’s response.

G(eorge) G. Bersot, “Woman’s Privilege in the Work and Worship of the Church,” The Way 4 (16 October 1902) 227-228, reprinted from Briney’s Monthly.

This subject should be closely studied for two reasons: (1) To place limitations upon her privilege in the work and worship of the church that the Word of  God does not warrant is to deprive the church of an element of power God has placed in it, and by so doing we incur a fearful responsibility and may also turn her activities into less worthy ways. (2) To take away restrictions that the Word of God places upon her is to assume an equally fearful responsibility in disregarding divine authority.

We premise the following as a rule to guide us in this investigation: Whatever woman did in the primitive apostolic church with apostolic permission, she may and ought to do now. And whatever she was forbidden to do by the apostles, she is forbidden to do now, and may not and ought not to do it.

If there is any error in this premise we would be glad to have it pointed out. I know that those who lay heavy restrictions upon her privilege argue that things were permitted or suffered that were only to be temporary, and were not intended to continue after that state of things passed away. Again, those who take off all restrictions, on the other hand, say that there were restrictions laid upon women then that were peculiar to the apostolic age, and were not intended to continue when that state of things passed away. Now there is just as much sense in one of these positions as there is in the other, and to my mind no sense in either of them. If the apostles expressly stated the one or the other of these things, then the argument would be a legitimate one; but they have made no such statement, hence our premise must stand.

With this premise before us we begin our investigation. We find limitations placed upon her in two places in the New Testament. 1 Corinthians 14:34,35 reads in the Revised Version as follows: “Let the women keep silence in the churches; for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but let them be in subjection, as also saith the law. And if they would learn anything let them ask their own husbands at home; for it is shameful for women to speak in the church.” Again, 1 Timothy 2:11,12: “Let a woman learn in quietness with all subjection. But I permit not a woman to teach, nor to have dominion over a man, but to be in quietness.”

Here some limitation is placed on woman’s privilege in the work and worship of the church. The extent of this limitation is the question to be settled. Does this silence extend to all parts of the work and worship of the church? If there was nothing else said anywhere else in the New Testament on this subject, we would naturally conclude that it did; but if we find her taking some part in the worship with apostolic permission in other places in the Book, then we must conclude that this silence was not intended to extend to all parts of the worship.

This same principle extends to other apparently absolute statements of Scripture. Jesus says: “For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.” If there was nothing else said anywhere in the New Testament on the subject of prayer, we would conclude that there was no limitation to the things for which we might pray with the expectation of receiving. But James tells us that “ye ask and receive not because ye ask amiss that ye may spend it in your pleasures.” We find here limitations placed upon our. Hence one passage of the Word of God must be explained in the light of other passages on the same subject. If this is not a true rule of interpretation, then I know not how to arrive at a true conclusion on any Bible subject.

Now did the women take any part in the worship of the primitive apostolic church, with apostolic permission, which modifies the statements quoted above? If so, then these general statements must be explained in the light of these special ones as illustrated by the subject of prayer.

Now let us look at this statement of Scripture. 1 Corinthians 11:4,5: “Every man praying or prophesying having his head covered dishonoreth his head. But every woman praying or prophesying with her head unveiled dishonoreth her head; for it is one and the same thing as if she were shaven.”

Here we find that the women in the church at Corinth took part in public worship along with the mean, and the apostle does not forbid the praying of women any more than he does that of the men. Both are directed how to conduct this part of the service in a becoming way. Is not this a fair interpretation of this Scripture? Is not this its obvious meaning?

 The more general statement that women must keep silent in the churches must be understood in the light of this particular one. Then we are led to ask to what extent they are to keep silent? We answer to the extent of the matter that was before the mind of the apostle when he issued his order. This must be gathered from the statement made and its contents. In these two Scriptures we have these statements: “It is not permitted unto them to speak, but let them be in subjection.” “Let a woman learn in quietness with all subjection. But I permit not a woman to teach, nor to have dominion over a man.” The speaking and teaching to which he here refers is that kind of speaking and teaching which would take them out of the sphere of subjection and place them in authority, and give them dominion over men. What kind of speaking and teaching in the church would do this? Not the prayers that a woman might pray, nor her prophesying, which is to “speak unto comfort and consolation,” but the authoritative speaking of an evangelist and teaching of the bishops of the congregation. These things are inconsistent with the subordinate place she occupies by reason of the order of creation and of transgression.

 Now if this conclusion is correct, have we as evangelist and elders the Scriptural right to forbid them taking any part in prayer meetings except to sing?—Briney’s Monthly

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Privilege in the Church,” The Way 4 (16 October 1902) 226-227.

At another place in this issue the reader will find an article from Brother G. G. Bersot, on “Women’s Privilege in the Work and Worship of the Church.” He concludes that women may lead the prayers of the church, and that they may make addresses that are for comfort and consolation; but “that the authoritative speaking of an evangelist and teaching of the bishops of the congregation” are forbidden to them.

Let us study the passages bearing on this question carefully and see if this conclusion is correct.  My quotations are from the American Standard Version of the Revised Version. Notice that in this edition, at I Corinthians 14:33, the verse is divided, the first sentence of it being placed in one paragraph and the second one in another. The following is the paragraph in full that bears upon our question:

“As in all the churches of the saints, let the women keep silence in the churches:  for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but let them be in subjection, as also saith the law. And if they would learn anything, let them ask their own husbands at home; for it is shameful for a woman to speak in the church. What? Was it from you that the word of God sent forth? Or came it unto you alone?” (1 Corinthians 14:33-36). Paul then adds of these things, “that they are the commandment of the Lord.”

To Timothy he says: “I desire therefore that the men pray in every place, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and disputing. In like manner, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefastness and sobriety; not with braided hair, and gold or pearls or costly raiment; but (which becometh women professing godliness) through good works. Let a woman learn in quietness with all subjection. But I permit not a woman to teach, nor to have dominion over a man, but to be in quietness.  For Adam was first formed, then Eve; and Adam was not beguiled, but the woman being beguiled hath fallen into transgression: but she shall be saved through her childbearing, if they continue in faith and love and sanctification and sobriety” (I Timothy 2:8-15).

To Titus Paul says, “Speak thou the things which befit the sound doctrine: that aged men be temperate, grave, sober-minded, sound in faith, in love, in patience: that aged women likewise be reverent in demeanor, not slanderous nor enslaved to much wine, teachers of that which is good; that they may train the young women to love their husbands to love their children to be sober-minded, chaste, workers at home, kind, being in subjection to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed” (Titus 2:1-5).

To the Corinthians Paul says: “Now I praise you that ye remember me in all things, and hold fast the traditions, even as I delivered them to you. But I would have you know, that the head of every man is Christ and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God. Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonoreth his head. But every woman praying or prophesying with her head unveiled dishonoreth her head; for it is one and the same thing as if her head were shaven. For if a woman is not veiled, let her also be shorn; but it is a shame to a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be veiled. For a man indeed ought not to have his head veiled forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of the man. For the man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man: for neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man: for this cause ought the woman have a sign of authority on her head, because of the angels. Nevertheless, neither is the woman without the man, nor the man without the woman, in the Lord. For as the woman is of the man, so is the man also by the woman; but all things are of God. Judge ye in yourselves; is it seemly that a woman pray unto God unveiled? Doth not even nature itself teach you, that, if a man have long hair, it is a dishonor to him? But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering. But if any man seemeth to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the churches of God” (I Corinthians 11:2-16).

Now from these quotations it seems to me that the following conclusions are clearly deductible: In all the churches of the apostolic age the woman were required to keep silent; that is, they were not allowed to speak, to make public addresses to the assemblies. They were not to assume the leadership in assemblies in which men were present, because Adam was made first, then Eve; Eve was deceived, not  Adam; because man is the image and glory of God, but the woman is the glory of the man; the man was not created for the woman, but the woman for the man.  The woman must have her head veiled when she prays or prophesies, as a sign of authority, being subject to the man; but the man must be unveiled because he is the image and glory of God. For these reasons a woman is not allowed to teach nor to have dominion over a man, but to be in quietness. “It is shameful for a woman to speak in the church.” But a woman is allowed to teach women and children. She is allowed also to teach men in private, where the meeting is informal and there is no assumption of leadership. At such a meeting Priscilla with her husband taught Apollos. (See Acts 18:24-28.) This was an informal meeting, no leadership being assumed by any one of them. In a regular assembly he who addresses the meeting is the leader of it, controlling and directing its thought for the time being. This a woman is not allowed to do in the churches; she must not assume authority over men, she must be in subjection. She is not even allowed to ask questions in the meetings of the churches, though men frequently did this; she is required to learn in quietness with all subjection; and, if she would learn anything by a question, to ask it a home. In asking a question she would thus far control the assembly, directing its thought, presenting that which it was to consider, and even to this extent she was not allowed to be a leader of the church.

In that apostolic age women prayed and prophesied, but there is not the slightest evidence that they led the prayers in the churches or prophesied in them. Every Christian, male and female, should pray in the meetings of the church; but men should lead the prayers. He who leads the prayers directs the thought of the meeting, and is for the time being the leader of it, the one in authority. This is a position which God does not allow a woman to hold over a man in the church even for one minute.

Philip the Evangelist had four daughters who prophesied. To prophesy is to speak by inspiration of God. Any one who speaks by inspiration of God is a prophet. Whether he speaks of the past, the present or the future, he is a prophet. Philip’s four daughters spoke by inspiration, but there is not the slightest evidence that they prophesied publicly in the churches. They would not have allowed to it. “As in all the churches of the saints, let the women keep silence in the churches: for it’s not permitted unto them to speak; but let them be in subjection, as also saith the law.” Before the New Testament was written not only these four daughters of Philip, but a thousand other women endowed in like manner could easily have found ample scope for the exercise of their prophetic gift without violating God’s law by speaking in the public assemblies. It is more than probable that Priscilla prophesied when she and her husband privately taught Apollos. If she spoke by inspiration she did. By all means let the women teach, and the more the better, if they teach God’s truth; but let them not violate God’s law by doing it in the assembly of the congregation. And by all means let them pray in the congregation, when some brother leads the prayer, and in secret; and in meetings of women and children, where there is nothing to hinder their leading the prayers, that I know of; but let them be veiled when they pray, even though it be in secret. This “sign of authority” a woman should have on her head “because of the angels.”

The question is often asked, “Does not this law forbid a woman to sing in the church?” I believe the word “speak” is used by Paul in the sense of making an address. It is often so used. We say, “Brothers Smith, Brown, Jones and Johnson spoke in the meeting to-night,” meaning that each made an address. That this is the Spirit’s meaning is evident from the fact that in the same paragraph in which the women are forbidden to speak, and are required to keep silent, they are also forbidden to ask questions. For had the word “speak” been used in the absolute sense, meaning unbroken silence, it would not have been necessary to forbid the asking of questions.

 It is also evident that they were not to lead in the prayers; for the prayer is itself an address made to God by the assembly; and the leader of the prayer is the leader of the church in this address. Hence the apostle says: “I desire therefore that the men pray in every place, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and disputing.” He then tells what he wants the women to do. It was the custom for those who led in the prayer to lift up their hands. (See also 1 Kings 8:22; Exodus 9:33; Ezra 9:5.) This passage makes it plain that it was the men whom the Holy Spirit wanted to lift up the hands in prayer, that is, to lead the prayer.

 Brother Bersot assumes that as the women were to pray, they were to lead the prayers, the very thing to be proved; and that as they were to prophesy, they were to make public addresses in the church, the very thing God forbids them to do.  It is strange to me that such a man as George Bersot should be guilty of a logical fallacy so flagrant and manifest. The things forbidden to the women are those which involve leadership, authority, such as making addresses, leading the prayers and asking questions; and these three things are specifically forbidden. Singing in concert is not specifically forbidden, nor does it involve necessarily authority, leadership. Let us not loose where God has bound nor bind where he has loosed.

Two New E-Journals

Two new electronic journals, one named Kingdom and the other named Missio Dei, have published their inaugural issues.

Kingdom is published by the Bible faculty of Freed-Hardeman University. Its masthead quotes Romans 14:17, “For the Kingdom of God is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.”   Ralph Gilmore, Distinguished Professor of Bible and Philosophy at FHU, is the editor. The intent of the journal is to publish academic articles of theological and religious significance written by “FHU students, faculty and/or alumni, although not necessarily limited to them.”  Ralph, in his introductory editorial, hopes the journal will be “Christ-centered, kingdom-centered, text-centered and service-centered in academic environment designed for spiritual growth through critical thinking.”

Missio  Dei is edited by four young missional church-planters and scholars. They are Nathan Bills (ThD student at Duke University), Charles Kiser (church planter in Dallas, TX), Greg McKinzie (missionary in Arequipa, Peru), Danny Reese (Missionary in Huambo, Angola) and Jason Whaley (Missionary, Wollongong, Australia). They were are at one time or another students in some of my classes at Harding University Graduate School of Religion. The purpose of the journal is to “provide a medium for exploring the rich tradition and ongoing practice of pariticipation in the mission of God among the churches of the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement.”

I wish both of these journals great success and long life.

McGary on Rebaptism: Reason to Divide

In 1898, Willam K. Homan in the Texas Christian Courier noted how relationships between the Gospel Advocate and Firm Foundation were deteriorating. This elicited a strong comment from Austin McGary, the editor of the Firm Foundation. I find this particular comment quite revealing as it parallels the instrumental music and missionary society controversies with the rebaptism controversy.  It is, it seems, worth a divison.

“We cheerfully admit that neither the society nor the organ has anything to do with this vile attack upon us by the Advocate combine. But the trouble between us is traceable to the very same presumptuous spirit that brings the society and organ into the work and worship of the church. Bros. Lipscomb and Harding and their wicked confederates in this attack upon us claim to speak where the Bible speaks and to be silent where the Bible is silent. But, like Homan and his confederates in advocating the society and organ, they speak where the Bible does not speak, and are silent where the Bible does speak, in their defense of Baptist baptism. And, besides pursuing the very same presumptuous course that the society and organ advocates do, these brethren are tenfold more palpably culpable in their effort to defend their practice of receiving Baptists on their baptism, because, in holding to this practice, they prove that they are wilfully going beyond the authority of the Lord, because they have taught–and have never retracted it–that “Baptist conversion drives God out of the work, and is wholly of men.” And they have made their four-cornered war of slander upon us because we have shown p the inconsistent and self-stultifying course of their big chief, and the cowardice and false statements of their little chief.  But all of this evil on their part grows out of the very same presumptuous spirit that prompts W. K. Homan to advocate the society and organ.”

Austin McGary, “Editorial,” 14,37 (!3 Septmber 1898) 284.

David Lipscomb on Voting

David Lipscomb’s opposition to participation in civil government is perhaps well-known. He is, in some ways, a Christian anarchist. This arises both from his experience in the Civil War but also out of his kingdom theology which envisions the kingdom of God destroying all human ruling authorities through Jesus Christ. Consequently, Lipscomb was a pacifist and refused to participate in any human governement. His argument is fully articulated in his Civil Government. 

His position was thoroughly discussed through the pages of the Gospel Advocate through the last quarter of the 20th century, and his position was thoroughly rejected during WWII (with Foy E. Wallace, Jr. leading the way). Ultimtely, the Churches of Christ became almost wholly alligned with the political interests of the ruling majority in the last half of the 20th century with some significant exceptions.

The below piece from the hand of Lipscomb is interesting in several respects.  First, it reflects the ongoing debate and we perhpas hear a strong sectional flavor in it.  Second, Lipscomb’s theology is thoroughly kingdomized, that is, he will hear nothing of any human institution but only a commitment to the kingdom of God. Third, we see Lipscomb’s strong opposition to violence and how his opposition to politics is partly rooted in his conviction that politics always leads to violence in some form or other.

David Lipscomb, “Voting,” Gospel Advocate (1876) 543-546

In response to a letter from N. B. Gibbons of Waxahatchie, Texas, dated May 4, 1876, Lipscomb writes:

This is the first and only request we have had to review Bro. P[inkerton]’s articles. We fully intended to do it before he wrote, but his articles fell so far short of an argument, were so wholly composed of platitudes and generalities that while sometimes true and sometimes not, had no bearing on the question, so abounded in inconsistencies with the recognized and avowed principle of Scripture application and so inconsistent with themselves, and so often not having a remote bearing on the question, whether true or false, that we did not see any necessity for reviewing it. No friend of voting that we saw was willing to accept it as a fair statement of the reasons why Christians should vote, no one opposed to Christians voting thought it needed a reply.

In the quotation made by our brother, the reason assigned for Christ’s not holding office or voting seems to us not a pertinent one. If he came to be an example to Christians, certainly he should set the example in that as in other things.

Preachers, Bishops, Pastors, Elders, Evangelists, and all officers in the church now vote. All members of the church are officers in the only sense the word is applicable to a functionary of the church. Paul says, “For as we have many members in one body, and all members have not the same office, so we being [544] many, are one body in Christ, and members of one of another.” Rom.’s xii:5. That is, as each member of the human body has its office, but all the members have not the same office to perform, so it is in the body of Christ. Bro P.’s argument then would be, if he stated it clearly and logically, Christ had offices in connection with his church, this prevented him either voting or holding office in any other institution or government. The legitimate deduction from this is, as Christ could not vote or hold office in human institutions because he had offices to fulfill in and with reference to his own kingdom, so his members who have offices to discharge in his kingdom cannot vote or hold office in other institutions. This is certainly the logical conclusion, from his premises, all members have their offices to perform in the kingdom, therefore, no member can hold office or vote in other kingdoms. It is true Bro. P. has said there is no voting in those days—and hence might claim that it did not apply to the voting part.  But every school-boy or girl that has read the simplest elements of Grecian or Roman history knows Bro. P. is wholly wrong in this. Greece and Rome both were elective democracies in their beginning. The latter stood as much longer than any modern democracy has maintained itself and even after the substitution of the empire for the democracy, the Emperors themselves were for a long time elected by voting. These elections were not always without fraud, without violence, sometimes the will of the people was set aside by military authority or the violence of the soldiery or the mob. But such things are not unknown in this providentially raised up government for the development of Christian voters and office-holders—with its credit mobilier, salary grab, post traderships almost universal crime and corruption, thrown in. We doubt if there ever was a government among intelligent people more thoroughly honeycombed with crime and corruption and more constantly tempting men to dishonesty and venality than this. It is not the general government alone, nor one party, but the whole body politic, is corrupt. No man can breathe the air of our politics and remain pure. If he can, it is not true that “evil communications corrupt good manners.” Our politics are much like the politics of all democratic governments. When a man enters into them he drinks of their spirit and becomes one with them. Instances of this kind occur constantly. It is an exceedingly rare thing for a man in politics to pay any regard to his religion.

Bro. P. in his argument maintains that as the Bible says nothing about voting, Christians may vote. Does he argue thus about the mourner’s bench and infant sprinkling &c.? Bro. Franklin in his last number of the Review, makes the argument “As the Bible says nothing about voting Christians may vote or not.” In the very same number of his paper he says the Bible says nothing about the organ, therefore Christians should not use the organ. The legs of the lame are truly not equal. When such m en as Bros. Franklin and Pinkerton reason so contradictorily with themselves something must be wrong. [545] They can never satisfy thinking men in this way. It is certain they do not reason and act on the same principle in both cases.

To show the inconclusiveness of Bro. P.’s reasoning, we refer, without re-reading his articles, to the statement, that “sometimes the voice of the people, may be the voice of God sometimes it is not.” This is given as a reason why Christians should engage in politics. But he gives no rule, by which we can determine when their voice is the voice of God and when it is not. The idea that we can ever look to the voice of the people as the voice of God in this indefinite form, not only is of no practical good to any; it is of infinite harm to the world. It is worse than direct Spiritual Influence. Instead of going to the word of God to learn his will they are looking to the voice of the people with no rule to tell when the voice is of God. They find it in the frenzy of fanaticism. In our recent strife each party concluded the voice of his people was the voice of God. And many people of the South under Bro. Pinkerton’s rule thought they did God’s service to kill the hated Yankee and to rob him of his property. It was equally true on the other side. When religious people engage in war, they clothe their strife with the frenzy of religious fanaticism. Then it makes war more bitter, more bloody, more cruel, more vindictive in its character to maintain such an idea. When God has a message for his people, he is able to deliver it, in such a manner that none of those willing to hearken can misunderstand; he can deliver it in his own voice.

Bro. P. seeing the utter incongruity of Christians striving against each other in politics, suggests that to avoid this the church shall call a convention to determine what shall be done, how they shall all vote. Well what law will govern them? What rule for deciding? Will they dare decide where God has given no direction? To do it would be to make assumptions worse than papal. Then again, what shall they decide? Whether the church shall vote for Tweed or Belknap? Whether they shall contract or expand the currency? How can a church decide such questions? Where is the rule? But suppose they conclude that Christians cannot support the corrupt men of either party and put men of their own in nomination and become a third party? Then there will be a distinctly religious party in politics, a political party on religious grounds. The most corrupt and corrupting of all parties. But he wishes these conventions confined to single congregations, not to a multiplicity of churches. That is a church in one State will decide in one way, a church in another another way. Christians will then form political parties based on sectional grounds.  These lead most surely to war and violence, and Christians, children of the Prince of Peace, foment war and murder and destroy each other as the result. These are some of the impractical and antichristian absurdities in which he involves himself. We are sure there can be no necessity in reviewing such fallacious reasoning, involving absurdities so glaring. Bro. P. conjures up men of straw to demolish, in the shape of conclusions he supposes are [546] involved in the opposite position that no man, woman or child ever did believe, and that are not in the least involved in the position. It is much easier to explode a man’s position when he state if for him than when he states it himself.  It is usually regarded somewhat more in accordance with fair discussion to accept a man’s own statements of his position. But we are not surprised that Bro. P. finds it more convenient to meet positions of his own framing than of those who believe it wrong for Christians to engage in politics. They are so much more easily disposed of.

In the particular positions to which our brother refers, certainly Christ was only prospective King and Priest while on earth. But he was an active Savior from the day he was recognized as the Son of God, and anointed with the Holy Spirit. He was a Christed Savior. His work of saving was not perfected until his blood was shed, he was buried resurrected ascended and crowned a king and made a priest.

But the sacrifice was as much a part of the work of the Savior as the offering of the blood as a High Priest at the right hand of God. He set the full example for the Christian to follow, and if he refrained from political affairs it was because he desired Christians to do likewise. So far from Bro. Jones’ or Pinketon’s articles convincing any one that Christians can go into politics, we are certain they confirm all thoughtful Christians there is no ground for it. Brethren, let us get clear of our partisan prejudices for human institutions and look plainly at the teachings of God and learn of them the truth as it is in Christ.

Woe to Imperialism

Yesterday my Bible class at Woodmont Hills encountered the prophet Habakkuk’s condemnation of imperialism in chapter 2:6-20. In the wake of the United States’ entrance into another war (making it three current ones), I was struck with how relevant the prophet is. [My handouts for this class on Habakkuk are available here.]

The section is headed by a rhetorical question:  “Will not all of them [the nations] taunt him [Babylon] with ridicule and scorn?” And what will they say? This is where the prophet inserts his “woes” against imperialism in 2:6b-20.

There are five woes.

• Woe to those who gain wealth by theft, extortion and plunder, that is, woe to any nation that gains wealth through injustice. The nation that lives by plunder will die by plunder; as they do unto others, so it will be done to them (2:6b-8)
• Woe to those who erect monumental structures with such pride that they think they can escape ruin themselves even while they cause the ruin of others. The very buildings they erect will cry out against them (2:9-11).
• Woe to those who build their empire by violence and injustice. They exhaust themselves in nation-building but it is all in vain (2:12-13); though nations exalt themselves in pride, they “imagine a vain thing” (Psalm 2:1).
• Woe to those who humiliate, abuse and shame their neighbors as well as violently attack human beings as well as the ecosystems of creation (when the trees of Lebanon are cut down the animals lose their habitat; 2:15-17).
• Woe to those who substitute another god for the true God, whether it be an idol made of gold and silver or gold and silver itself (2:18-19).

But there are two also doxological affirmations.

• “For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Yahweh as the waters cover the sea” (2:14)–empires will not reign forever, but one day the natons will know Yahweh when violence and injustice will cease and the shalom of Yahweh will cover the earth.
• “The Yahweh is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him” (2:20)–even Babylon must be silent before the God of all the earth, and when in the presence of Yahweh’s holiness, we all must cover our mouths, prostrate our bodies, and humble ourselves before Yahweh.

Woe to Empires but glory to Yahweh. Yahweh wins, the nations don’t. But praise be to God, when Yahweh wins, the nations will come to know the glory of Yahweh.

McGary Asks for Forgiveness

Several days ago I posted a paragraph by Austin McGary (1846-1928) whose language astonished (and saddened) many of you. In fairness to brother McGary, I want to note his apology in the May 31, 1923 Gospel Advocate. Here he apologizes for what he wrote in the Gospel Outlook which he published from 1903-1905 after he was dismissed from the Firm Foundation.  He wrote (“A Sincere Apology,” GA 65 [31 May 1923] 529):

Brother Boles and Brother McQuiddy have both written me concerning some very improper and unchristianlike things I said about Brother D. Lipscomb in the Gospel Outlook many years ago. I sincerely and deeply and penitently regret having said these things, and I unfeignedly and feelingly beg all of Brother Lipscomb’s friends and the brotherhood in general to forgive me. It will be a lifelong regret with me that I did not apologize to Brother Lipscomb before he died for saying these things about him.

J. C. McQuiddy (1858-1924), editor of the Advocate, responded:

I most heartily commend this Christian apology, and would be glad to see many others follow the good example set by Brother McGary. Many apologies are needed just now, and those who should make them would be better for the making.

While it is not best to grieve over spilt milk, I would have been very glad for David Lipscomb to have read such an apology during his life, for I am sure he would have rejoiced to have received it and would have freely forgiven Brother McGary. We must forgive if we expect to be forgiven. This is a lesson that not only needs to be learned, but also one which should be practiced.

Terry Gardner noted this quotation in “Lipscomb, McGary and Forgiveness,” GA 145 (1 April 2003) 26 as well as in his lecture on McGary at the 2009 Freed-Hardeman Lectureship (available on I-Tunes).

May 21, 2011…Who Knew?

They do.  Jesus didn’t.

Yes, that is correct.  They know.  They have published it on billboards, the intenet and other media sources. Judgment Day is May 21, 2011, and the end of the world will follow on October 21,2011.

But Jesus didn’t know.

How do they know?  They looked it up in the Bible and calculated it.   Here’s how.

1.  The seven days of Genesis 7:4 are 7000 years because one day with the Lord is like a 1000 years.

Did Jesus know that?

2.  This was said to Noah in 4990. Minus 7000, and you get 2011.

Did Jesus know that?

But enough of the calculation. You can read it for yourself if you like. My point is quite simple.

Jesus had all the data available to him that is available to them. They read the Bible and conclude May 21, 2001 is the day!  Jesus, however, knew the same data and said “I don’t know” (cf. Mark 13:32).

Who do you believe?  I think I’ll go with Jesus.

Osama bin Laden

“Got him!” The headlines fill our papers, newsrooms and social media. Osama bin Laden, the mastermind of 9-11 is dead.

What should I do? Dance? Party? Shout “U-S-A” over and over?

What should I feel? Pride? Joy? Satisfaction? Patriotic? Gratitude?

I have mixed feelings. “Justice has been done,” says our President. Maybe so. One function of government is to execute jusice. God uses governments for that purpose though not everything nations do is necessarily just.

On the other hand, the celebration, joy and partying that litters our television screens from around the nation disturb me. I could understand if peace had arrived, if the war was over. That would be something to celebrate. But that is not what happened.

In Ezekiel, God spoke into the evil of the world with justice, but yet also said “I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked” (33:11).

Joy is not what I feel. I feel sad that the cycle of violence continues, and it will continue as violence breeds violence. I don’t feel like celebrating.

I feel like praying….

• praying for all combatants in this conflict, this nation’s military as well as others.
• praying for the victims of 9-11 as they re-live their loss today
• praying for the enemies of this nation
• praying for the family of Osama
• praying for this nation
• praying for peace
• praying

Summer Travels Now Complete

It has been a whirlwind summer but a satisfying one.  Only now have I been able to make time to offer a summary. In later posts I hope to tell more about each of our trips.

It began teaching a course on the historical geography of Israel which climaxed in a two-week tour of Israel where archeological, topographical and historical sites were emphasized.

Jennifer, Lacey and I then went on an almost three-week teaching tour in Singapore, Malaysia, and Australia (Brisbane). Jennifer and Lacey taught children while I led some discussions among adults.

After Lipscomb’s Summer Celebration, Jennifer and I participated in the VBS of the Pitman Church of Christ in NJ. We always enjoy visiting that congregation whose long time minister is Dan Cooper…and more on that later.

Saturday we returned from Guatemala where we participated in one of the surgical weeks of Health Talents International at Clinica Ezell. Jennifer served as a nurse and I served as Chaplain.

We are grateful to be safe, healthy and home.  And we are grateful for new friends, renewal of friendship with old friends, and the opportunity to serve in the Kingdom this summer.

I plan to say more in the future, but now I must prepare for the coming semester which begins next week.

Mark 1:1 — The Beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God

The seemingly innocuous opening line of the Gospel of Mark is actually a broadside against the Roman Empire, or any empire. It is a loaded sentence.

Many think that Mark’s Gospel was written in the context of the city of Rome, perhaps to Roman Christians. Whatever the case, it was certainly written within the context of the Roman Empire. This context highlights the opening sentence of the Gospel.

To what “beginning” does Mark refer? Literarily, it is the beginning of the document and the sentence may function as a title; if not to the whole document, at least to the opening fifteen verses. But does it only have a literary function? I think it is theologically pregnant.

“Beginning” may call us to the beginning of the new creation as the first Greek word in the sentence reminds us of Genesis 1:1. The good news is that new creation has begun.  ”Beginning” may point us to the beginning of the ministry of Jesus which inaugurates the new creation; it is the beginning of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. The good news (gospel) both belongs to Jesus and is about Jesus.

More than this, Mark’s language makes a claim that contrasts with the claims of the Empire.We know that the birthday of Augustus Caesar (under whom Jesus was born) was proclaimed as “good news”  (gospel, euangelion) in the Empire. For example, a calendar inscription reads: “The birthday of the god was for the world the beginning of the joyful messages (gospel, JMH) which have gone forth because of him” (TDNT 2:724).

Further, just as Jesus is called “son of God” in Mark’s opening line, coins in the Roman world were sometimes inscribed with the Emperor’s name followed by the designation “son of God” (theou huios). The coins of Tiberius Caesar are a good example of this.

Mark begins his Gospel with an astounding claim. Jesus is the good news, not the Emperor. Jesus is the Son of God, not the Emperor. In effect, Jesus is Lord, not the Emperor.

The new era of peace, good news and justice did not begin with Augustus. Rather, it begins with Jesus. He is the servant of Isaiah who brings good news to Jerusalem and ultimately to the whole world. Mark tells the story of the Lord who rules through self-sacrificial service–the suffering servant of Isaiah–in contrast to the ruling coercive power of the Roman Caesar.

Mark calls us to believe this “gospel” (Mark 1:15)–the good news of the kingdom of God–rather than the proclamations of the empire….whether Roman or otherwise. The story of Jesus is the story of a different kind of kingdom.

Americana might hear this opening title as well as a judgment on the “good news” of the American dream and the American experiment. When Christians buy into a kind of civil religion where American values compete with the good news of Jesus we need to read the Gospel of Mark again.

My Sunday morning Bible class at Woodmont Hills (Nashville, TN) began a study of Mark this past Sunday. Hopefully, I will have some time to occasionally blog my thoughts on our reading of the text.

Mark 1:2-8–The Ministry of John the Baptist

Mark’s telling of the gospel about Jesus begins with the ministry of John the Baptizer.  This telling is shaped by quotations from two Hebrew prophets–Malachi (3:1) and Isaiah (40:3), though Mark only references by name the most prominent prophet.

The Malachi text announces the coming of a messenger who will precede God’s own coming to the temple for judgment and blessing. Given the judgment upon covenant violators (including those who do not pay just wages to their workers as well as those who mistreat the needy), the text calls for repentance which suits John’s own message and baptismal ritual.

The Isaiah text comforts the people of God with a message of redemption. God will level mountains and raise valleys in order to make a path for the people of God to return from exile in Babylon. God is bringing redemption to his still exiled people (a la N. T. Wright). Israel’s exile from Babylon may have ended, but their exilic status as an oppressed people continued under the Persians, Greeks and Romans. Israel was looking for a New Exodus, for redemption.

John’s ministry, shaped by these texts (in their whole rather than as snippets), locates him as a prophet who announces the end of the exile of God’s people and calls them to repentance in anticipation of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. God is coming to his people in both judgment and blessing. Consequently, the people of Israel repent, confess their sins and are baptized for the forgiveness of their sins in order to prepare themselves for the coming reign of God, that is, to prepare themselves to receive the Messiah (Christ). Israel hears the word of the prophet, crosses the Red Sea again (typified by their baptism), and enters the wilderness of waiting for the coming of the Messiah.

Much like the Qumran community went into the desert to await the kingdom as a penitent community, so Israel hears the preaching of God’s prophet, submits to a water ritual as an act of repentance for the forgiveness of their sins, and awaits the Messiah. Mark underscores John’s own prophetic role by noting his diet and clothing (cf. Zech 13:7). John is a wilderness kind of guy whose prophetic role is signaled by his austere lifestyle.

But John is not the Messiah. He only baptizes in water. The Messiah will baptize in the Holy Spirit. The introduction of the Holy Spirit here is significant. The pouring out of the Spirit is the end of the exile in several prophetic texts, most notably Joel 2 (quoted in Acts 2), Isaiah 61 (quoted in Luke 4) and Ezekiel 36. The presence of the Spirit is the presence of redemption, restoration and renewal.

The Messiah will pour out the Spirit and baptize his people in the Spirit. John’s role is to point to the Messiah, announce his coming, and prepare a people for his arrival. Repentance, confession of sin and baptism in water for the forgiveness of sins prepares Israel to receive the Messiah’s gift of the Spirit. Baptism in the Spirit here is not a special gift to a few but is the promise of God to Israel (and to “all flesh”). God will pour out the Spirit on all humanity.

John’s ministry is good news–the Messiah is coming. The message is not “take up the sword and prepare for the kingdom.” Rather, the message is “repent, confess and be baptized.” We receive the kingdom–and the kingdom comes in the person of Jesus–through obedient submission to the reign of God and not through a violent, revolutionary agenda. The people who receive the kingdom are those who repent, confess and submit to God’s kingdom call. Only a humble people can enter and embrace the kingdom of Christ.

Mark 1:9-11: The Baptism of Jesus

John’s baptism was designed for sinners–penitent and confessing sinners whose sins were forgiven through baptism.

Jesus was baptized by John. What’s up with that?

It is rather startling actually. Jesus undergoes a ritual designed for sinners. But, perhaps, it is not so startling. Jesus ultimately died a death designed for criminals (sinners) as well. Jesus was numbered with the transgressors, both in his death and baptism. Jesus identifies with sinners through his baptism.

More specifically, Jesus identifies with Israel. He joins the penitent community that awaits the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. He submits to God’s command as part of believing Israel. The parallel between 1:5 and 1:9 is striking.

1:5  All Judea and Jerusalem went out and was baptized by John in the Jordan river.

1:9  Jesus came from Nazareth and was baptized by John in the Jordan river.

Jesus joins other obedient believers in submitting to God’s command as preparation for the coming kingdom. Moreover, Jesus actually represents Israel as the faithful remnant, just as he will on the cross.

But there is more.

Jesus is anointed by the Holy Spirit.  The heavens are split open and the Spirit descends. The language is reminiscent of Isaiah 64:1–God rends the heavens and descends to bring his presence among his people. The Spirit is poured out on Jesus–this inaugurates the eschatological presence of God, a kingdom presence, in the world. The  Father announces Jesus’ sonship and his delight–reminiscent of Psalm 2:7 and Isaiah 42:1 (both texts include Messianic ideas but they also have a wider meaning and application to Israel–and to us!).

And it is that story we enter through our own baptism.

This is the first Christian baptism; it is paradigmatic for our own baptism. Jesus is immersed in water, the Spirit is poured out on him, and the Father declares his relationship with Jesus as he delights in him.

That is our baptism, too! When we are baptized, we too experience the pouring out of the Spirit–we, too, are anointed. When we are baptized, God says over us, “This is my child.”  When we are baptized, God delights in us and rejoices over us. Baptism is a serious act but a moment of celebration as well.

The baptism of Jesus is our model. Jesus invites us to follow him, and if we would be disciples of Jesus, we will follow him into the water and experience God’s gracious delight and gifts. It is an act of discipleship but it is also a moment when God acts–God delights, God declares, God anoints with the Spirit, and, in our case as with other sinners who came to baptism, God forgives.

The Gospel of Mark: On Reading a Gospel as Scripture

How do we read a Gospel as Scripture?

By “Gospel” I mean the literary genre itself. A Gospel announces good news and our canonical Gospels locate this good news in Jesus, particularly his ministry, death and resurrection.

It has been common for modern readers to think of the Gospels as primarily or fundamentally history or even biography. When read through this lens our response is to believe the facts or to believe the story. We confess it; we acknowledge it; we recite it.  As confessors of the story, the church has sometimes reduced it to a history lesson. These are the facts we believe. Or, we might reduce the story to a list of creedal statements.

There is certainly nothing improper about believing the story or even acknowledging the facts which the narrative asserts. The problem is when we think of this as the only or even primary purpose of the Gospels themselves.

In this mode of reading, the Gospels are preambles to Christian living. They are the evidence of Jesus and once we believe the evidence and become Christians, then we move on to the Epistle or the rest of the New Testament to find out what it means to be Christian or how to live as Christians.  The Gospels, then, are functionally evidentiary; they are practically, if not solely, apologetic tools.  In this construal, they tell the story we believe but not the story we live.

I think the Gospels are much more than that.

The function of the Gospels is not merely to tell the story like a witness in a courtroom, but more like a storyteller who draws the hearer into the drama itself. The Gospels invite us to participate in the story of Jesus and not simply believe it. They call us to follow Jesus and not simply believe in him as an artifact of history.

The Gospels are not fundamentally histories but narratives. They are historical, to be sure, but they are more appropriately regarded as stories that project a world in which we are invited to live. The Gospels invite us to live out the story of Jesus in our own lives.

We follow Jesus into the water. We follow him into the wilderness.  We follow him into ministry–to the tables of the marginalized, to the sick and diseased, to the broken and hurting. We follow him to the cross and die with him daily. And, one day, we will follow him into glory where our mortal bodies will be transformed into the likeness of his resurrected body.

The story of Jesus is our story. The Gospels are our narratives. They are not historical artifacts or pieces of mere evidentiary history. They are the story of our lives as disciples of Jesus.

The Invitations of Wisdom and Folly (Proverbs 9)

Wisdom and Folly are personified as women in Proverbs 1-9 on several occasions. Proverbs 9, coming just before the beginning of the “Proverbs of Solomon” in Proverbs 10, is the final appeal of the parent/teacher/elder to heed wisdom rather than folly. It functions as an “altar call” or the invitation poem (Hebrew invitation song?). The parent/teacher/elder appeals one last time to the “simple” (inexperienced) child/student/youth to listen to wisdom.

	Wisdom (9:1-6)	Folly (9:13-18)
Her Worth	Built her own house	Loud (lit., roaring)
	Hewed her own seven pillars	Seductive lit., Simple)
	Killed her own meat, mixed her own wine; set her own table	Knows Nothing (Ignorant)
Her Actions	Sends young women	Sits at the door of her house
	From the highest place	Takes a seat on the highest place
	To call others	She calls from her place
The Invitation	Let the simple turn in here	Let the simple turn in here
Her promise	Come, eat my bread	Stolen Water is sweet
	Drink of the wine I mixed	Eating Bread in Secret is Pleasant
The Result	Leave simple ways	House of Death
	Live and walk with insight	Guests in Sheol

Wisdom built her own house; she built creation itself as God created the world through her (8:22-36). Wisdom is prepared. She sacrifices her own meat, mixes her own wine and sets her own table.  But Folly is loud (a good show, but no substance), herself simple (how can she, then, really help the simple?) and ignorant (she does not know how to help). She has no resources of her own but roars with her own boisterousness.

Wisdom is active. She calls by actively seeking others. She sends people out to invite others (much like the host in Luke 14). Folly waits for others to find her (and she is not hard to find). They are both visible (highest points), but they have different methods. Wisdom actively sends but Folly waits. Wisdom calls by seeking and Folly calls through patient entrapment. Folly waits for the simple to fall into her trap, perhaps attracted by her roaring.

Wisdom offers her own bread and wine. She gives out of her own resources.  Folly, however, offers stolen water and eats bread in secret. Wisdom’s invitation is public, open and transparent.  Folly invites us to secrecy and isolation. I’m reminded how addictions (drugs, alcohol, sex, etc.) find vitality in secrecy and isolation. They bring death. Wisdom is transparent.

Wisdom urges us to leave our simple ways and live in her light, to walk through life with her insight. But Folly makes no promises. Rather, in foolishness we are awakened to the reality that the guests at her banquet inhabit Sheol. Wisdom brings life but Folly brings death.

We live in the creation that wisdom built. It is best to live by that wisdom–and the beginning of that wisdom is the fear of Yahweh (Proverbs 9:10; cf. 1:7; 31:30). When we live within the creation in ways that reflect that wisdom, we experience life with more serenity. But when we live within the creation in foolish ways, then we experience chaos and turmoil. God made the world so that round pegs fit round holes, but when, in our foolishness, we try to put a round peg into a square hole, something breaks. We break. The creation is built for a particular kind of living, that is, living by the fear of Yahweh. Any other kind of living leads to brokenness.

Jesus said something similar at the end of the Sermon on the Mount.  The gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction but the gate is small and the road narrow that leads to life (Matthew 5:13-14). It is the difference between life and death; it is the difference between wisdom and foolishness.

Wise people, Jesus said, build their houses on rocks and good foundations–foundations like the wisdom embodied in the Sermon on the Mount. But foolish people, Jesus said, build their houses on shifting sand.  The former house stands strong as it was built by wisdom, but the house built on foolishness collapses.

Alas! I have often found it much easier to sing the children’s song than to heed its advice.

Mark 1:12-13 — Jesus in the Wilderness

Sink or swim? Sound familiar? Some learned to swim by a parent throwing them into the pool. Perhaps that is not a good idea, but it appears analogous to what God did with Jesus…or maybe not.

Rising from the waters of baptism, Jesus is anointed with the Holy Spirit. The Father affirms him, loves him, and expresses his pure delight in him. And, then….

“immediately the Spirit throws him out into the desert” (Mark 1:12, my translation).

No waiting. No down-time. No pampering. Jesus went “immediately” into wilderness bootcamp.

Indeed, the Spirit of God drove him there.  ”Sent” is too watered-down for the Greek verb here (éκβáλλει).  It is mostly used in Mark for casting out demons (Mark 1:34, 39; 3:15, 23, and many other places), but also for tearing/plucking out an eye if it cause offense (Mark 9:47) and expelling someone from a place (Mark 12:8), including the money-changers from the temple (Mark 11:15). It has forceful overtones. Jesus is thrown or driven into the wilderness.

What was the purpose of this experience, of this “thrownness”? Given Mark’s theological purpose to locate Jesus in the history of Israel–Jesus is the suffering servant (a new Moses) who will lead Israel out of exile into abundance–we might find help in the story of Israel’s wilderness sojourn.  Mark has already interpreted John’s ministry as one that belongs to the New Exodus (earlier quoting Isaiah 40). Jesus has passed through the water, just as Israel passed through the sea, and just as they spent 40 years in the Sinai wilderness, so Jesus spends 40 days in the Judean wilderness.

We can see the meaning of the wilderness experience for those who entered the promised land with the help of Deuteronomy 8–a text that Jesus quotes in the wilderness, according to Matthew and Luke. The text describes Israel’s experience as a testing, humbling and discipling one. Israel was tested to reveal what is in their hearts. They were humbled in their dependence upon God. They were discipled in the wilderness.

This, I think, is the meaning of the wilderness for Jesus….and for us. Jesus is tested in an hostile environment–Satan is present as well as wild animals. Only Mark mentions the wild animals which probably reflects not only the hostility of the environment but also connects with Mark’s Roman readers who themselves would endure wild beasts in their own testing (persecution). Jesus is tested, humbled and discipled in the wilderness.

And so are we. Mark’s Roman readers probably saw themselves in this same situation–persecution was their wilderness.  That wilderness continues for many Christians across the globe today, but there are also many different kinds of wilderness experiences. Those experiences test us as they reveal our hearts, they humble us as we recognize our powerlessness and dependency on God, and they disciple us as they train us for the mission of God.

And, yet, we are not abandoned in the wilderness. We are not left alone. Angels ministered to Jesus, and they minister to us as well (cf. Hebrews 1:14). God is present with us in the wilderness and that presence strengthens us and empowers us to endure the wilderness.

The wilderness story of Israel is also Jesus’s story, and Jesus’ story is our story. Just as we followed Jesus into the water, so we follow him into the wilderness….or perhaps, God will throw us out into the wilderness if we don’t follow him there. And God will be there, too.

If God “throws” us into the water, he does not idly watch us struggle. On the contrary God joins us in the pool and helps us swim to safety.

Reading Job: A Structural Guide

This semester at Lipscomb I am teaching an intensive Bible Major class on Job and Ecclesiastes. I am excited about the class and literally am sitting on the edge of my seat to see what God does every class period with myself and sixteen students. Over the semester, I hope to blog a bit about our journey as time permits.

As a beginning, I have provided below a structural outline for reading Job. If it does not seem helpful at the moment, perhaps after further posts through the book it may become so. At least, it helps me.  Maybe it will you as well.  Here it is.  Read the book of Job with me over the coming weeks.

1.  Narrative Prologue (Job 1-2):  Yahweh, Satan and Job.

a.  Introduction (Job 1:1-5):  Righteous Job.

b.  First Trial (Job 1:6-22):  Blessed Be the Name of the Lord.

c.  Second Trial (Job 2:1-10):  Accepting Trouble with Integrity.

d.  Silent Lament (Job 2:11-13):  Meditating on Suffering.

2.  Poetic Drama (Job 3:1-42:6):  The Dialogues and Monologues

a.  First Act:  Dialogues (Job 3-27).

(1) Opening Lament (Job 3):  “Why was I Born?”

(2) First Dialogue Cycle (Job 4-14):  Repent!

Eliphaz (4-5):  Offers hope in discipline (5:17-27).

Job (6-7):  Friends are dry streams (6:15-21).

Bildad (8):  God will yet deliver you if you repent (8:6-20).

Job (9-10):  Who am I, even if I am blameless (9:20).

Zophar (11):  Job is self-righteous (11:4-5), so repent (11:13).

Job (12-14):  You are telling me nothing new; just listen (13:1-2, 13ff).

(3) Second Dialogue Cycle (Job 15-21):  Attempt to Shut Up the Lament.

Eliphaz (15):  Lament undermines piety and expresses sin (15:4).

Job (16-17):  You are miserable comforters (16:2) and ignorant (17:12).

Bildad (18):  Cease your lament; we know evil is punished (18:2,21).

Job (19):  You attack me; please have pity (19:2, 21-22, 28).

Zophar (20):  The joy of the wicked is brief (20:5-6).

Job (21):  The counsel is false; the wicked do not always suffer (21:34).

(4) Third Dialogue Cycle (Job 22-27):  Giving Up on Job’s Conceit.

Eliphaz (22):  Even if you were righteous, so what (22:3)?

Job (23-24):  God is listening; I will speak my lament (23:6,17; 24:1).

Bildad (25):  No one can be righteous (25:4).

Job (26):  You offer no insight, just futility (26:3).

[No speech by Zophar, but a literary break is indicated by 27:1]

Job (27):  Job speaks to God with integrity (27:1-6).

b.  Second Act:  The Monologues (Job 28-42:6)

(1) Opening Wisdom Poem (Job 28) – Narrator or Job?  Fearing Yahweh is Wisdom.

(2) First Monologue:  Job (Job 29-31; speech renewed 29:1)

What it was like Then (29):  Righteous and Respected.

What it is like Now (30):  Lament.

Self-Imprecation (31):  If I had sinned, then I should be judged; but I have not.

(3) Second Monologue:  Elihu (Job 32-37)

First Speech (32-33):  God disciplines (33:14,26-31); Job is self-righteous (33:9).

Second Speech (34):  God is just (34:12); Job deserved suffering (34:5,9,11)

Third Speech (35):  God is transcendent; Job is wicked (35:2-7).

Fourth Speech (36-37):  God is active; listen Job (37:14).

(4) Third Monologue:  Yahweh (Job 38-42:6)

First Speech (38:1-40:2):  Don’t You See How I Care for My World?

Job’s First Response (40:3-5):  I am unworthy.

Second Speech (40:6-41:34):  Don’t You See How I Control Evil?

Job’s  Second Response (42:1-6):  I praise you.

3.  Narrative Epilogue (Job 42:7-17)

a.  Yahweh and the Friends (42:7-9).

b.  Yahweh and Job (42:10-17).

Mark 1:14-15 — From Wilderness to Ministry

Jesus went into the water (Jordan), then he was thrown into the wilderness, and finally he went into Galilee. Mark structurally highlights this movement with the use of the preposition into (εíς). Each of these events has multiple layers of significance and meaning.

At one level, they are rehearsals of the life of Israel. Jesus, as the faithful remnant of Israel, went through the water like Israel in the Exodus, went into the wilderness as Israel did for 40 years, and entered Galilee with hope and promise just as Israel occupied the promised land under Joshua. [Matthew draws the analogy between Galilee and a light coming into the darkness in Matthew 4:12-17, quoting Isaiah 9.]  Jesus is reliving the life of Israel in his own life. This includes his ministry in Galilee and ultimately Judea as well.

Jesus’ ministry continues the ministry of Israel. Just as Israel was a witness to the presence of God in the world as a light to the nations, so Jesus inaugurates that mission by serving Israel and ultimately sending his church among the nations. Israel came out of the wilderness to minister among the nations, and Jesus comes out of the wilderness to minister in Israel as he prepares a people to minister among the nations.

At another level, the church follows Jesus into the water, follows Jesus into the wilderness, and embraces his work (mission) as its own.

	Water	Wilderness	Work
Israel	Baptized in the Sea	40 Years in Desert	Light to the Nations
Jesus	Baptized in the Jordan	Trial in the Desert	Light to the Nations
Church	Baptized into Christ	Desert Experiences	Light to the Nations

Once John is in prison, the way is clear for the ministry of Jesus to emerge as the primary focus of the kingdom of God in the world. Jesus heralds (announces) the good news of God.  What is the good news? The headliner of the Gospel of Mark (1:1) says it is related to Jesus–belonging to him or about him. Here Mark specifies the good news.

When Jesus heralds the good news of God, he says: “The kingdom of God has drawn near.” This is the time of God’s visitation; the time of God’s in-breaking. “The time is fulfilled.” It is now.

As we read through the Gospel of Mark, we will see more clearly what the “kingdom of God” is and how its appearance is good news. Simply, the reign of God has made a new appearance in the fallen world to redeem what is broken. God’s justice will set things right, God’s mercy will heal the broken, and God’s peace will reign in the world. This comes in the person of Jesus who is the reign of God embodied.

This gospel announcement calls for a response:  repent and believe, or reform and trust.  Some theologians have based a technical point on the order of “repent and believe” in Mark 1:15. But this is overreading. The function of “repent” here is the same as it was for John the Baptist. It is a call for reformation on the part of Israel. The people must align themselves with the purposes of the gospel, the reign of God, through repentance and reformation of life. Penitent, they trust the good news; they trust that God is really going to bring his reign to the earth. So, the response is repent in preparation for the coming kingdom and trust that it is really going to happen.

This text calls the church into ministry as well.  Just as we followed Jesus into the water and followed him into the wilderness, so we follow him into ministry. We, too, herald the coming of the kingdom of God, calling people to repent and believe, reform and trust. The ministry of Jesus is our ministry.

Through reading the Gospel of Mark, we learn from Jesus and embrace his mission. We follow him by heralding the good news and practicing the good news in our lives and among the nations.

The Prologue to Job: Framing the Poems

The Prologue (Job 1-2) and the Epilogue (Job 42:7-17) are the narrative frame for the poetic dialogues and monologues (Job 3-42:6) that are the heart of the book.  Though it is unfortunate that many only know the narrative frame (the story of Job) and ignore the central core of the book that is the real point of the work, the dialogues are relatively vacuous without the narrative frame. The narratives provide the setting, content and background knowledge necessary to understanding the dialogues. They provide the hermeneutical key for reading the poetic drama.

Generally, I regard Job as a poetic drama, a dramatic lament (much like Westermann). The poems (dialogues and monologues) are the Acts in the play.  The Prologue and Epilogue function as pre- and post-action narrations. The Prologue sets the stage, permits us to see what no one on earth could have seen, and provides some sure footings for interpreting the coming Acts.

The function of the Prologue is similar to the way narrations (in words or audibly narrated) precede the classic movies Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. The narrations are not themselves part of the action/play of the movie, but they provide a hermeneutical lens for viewing the film.  In the same way, the Prologue gives the hearer (reader) a particular world in which to understand the coming Acts. We know how to hear the dialogue because the Prologue has given us some hermeneutical keys. Our reading of the poems is guided by the world the narrator has given us. The poems must be read within the narrative frame provided by the final author/editor* just as the The Lord of the Rings can only be understood in the framework of the introductory narration.

If this is the case, how we read the prologue is extremely important. And we will begin to do that tomorrow.

**I understand that contemporary scholarship generally believes that the literary work we call “Job” has undergone literary development. Some believe that the Dialogues were an independent work to which the narratives were added, and others believe the narrative was a story to which the Dialogues were added. I think it is impossible to decide which came first, and it is impossible to discern exactly how this work evolved. It is also quite possible—I think most likely—that the document is the work of a single author.  At the very least, the final editor has given us the work as a literary unit.  The final editor thought it worked as a whole, and the position of the framing narratives is how the final author gives it us. We really don’t have it in any other form. This is the form in which I will read it.**

Job: Authorship, Date, and Composition

There are many uncertainties about the origin and composition of the book of Job. The author is anonymous. There are no clear indications of date.  Nevertheless, I here offer my own summation of what I think is the best understanding.  Following my summation, I provide a bullet point list of some of the significant data which is subject to a variety of interpretations.

I suggest that Job is a literary unity which arose either in the late pre-exilic or early post-exilic period of Israel’s history (anywhere from 700-400 BCE).  As part of the wisdom culture of Israel, it is at least post-Solomonic and, it seems to me, that the prominence of the Edomite setting suggests (slightly) a pre-exilic date. But a post-exilic date is also quite possible (maybe even likely if we think the theology of Job is intended to help Israel deal with the implications of the exile for their nation).

However, the setting of the book is more suited to the patriarchial period (Abraham to Jacob). Further, Job and his friends are most likely Edomites or at least Transjordanian. Also, the Hebrew wisdom author creatively situates the participants poetic sections in the past. The author creates the impression that while the narrative arises out Hebrew wisdom and language, the dialogue bears the marks of internationalization through the use of Aramaisms and ancient names for God.

Our author, in short, provides a wisdom lesson through the experience of Edomite wise men a millennium previous to his own time much like we might teach a contemporary lesson through the use of medieval characters. He seeks to teach his own culture (Israel) a wisdom lesson about God, suffering and faith that he thought they needed to hear. Perhaps if we gain a more precise understanding of the “lesson,” we might be able to situate the author more specifically in his own history.

Bottom line….we don’t know much. But we do have a piece of literature that is regarded as world-class literature and functions as Scripture for both Jews and Christians.

Date and Authorship

Who knows? Who can tell? How can anyone tell?

• The book is anonymous—no author claims it.
• The book is undated—it is not located in any particular history.
• The fact that authorities propose dates and authors spanning a millennium indicates that the evidence is inconclusive (Pope, Job [Anchor Bible], xl).

What do we know?

• It is part of the Hebrew canon with the Hebrew name of God.
• Targum of Job from Qumran Cave XI dates from around 100 BCE
• Names, places and particulars are consistent with ANE.
• Story is located outside of Israelite culture (internationalization). Situated in Transjordan (Arabia, Edom), the milieu is patriarchal (e.g., monetary unit in Job 42:11 is only found in Genesis 33:19 and Joshua 24:32).
•  Sirach (Ecc 49:9) and Testament of Job mention Job dating it before 200 BCE.

What are the proclivities?

• Evidence of inner-Biblical discourse: dialogue with the Hebrew canon (e.g., Psalm 8?).
• The final edition assumes a Hebrew metanarrative as a hermeneutical lens.
• Placement in the “Writings” may indicate later date (perhaps exilic or postexilic).
• There is nothing in Israel’s history or literature that suggests that such a wisdom document could have appeared before the emergence of wisdom conventions in Israel during the Solomonic era at the earliest.
• Job is mentioned in Ezekiel 14:14, 20—but is it oral or written tradition?
• The theme may fit exilic or postexilic Judah best, and there appear to be close connections between Job and Jeremiah’s laments as well as Second Isaiah (40-55).
• Job has many Aramaisms which may indicate a late date (Persian period) but for others it reflects the author’s intentional internationalization of the work (Aramaisms appear in the poems but not in the narrative).[1]
• The Hebrew of Job is elegant and intricate; indeed, it is “richer than that of any other biblical text” (Greenstein, 652). It is not a work of translation from another ancient language. This is a Hebrew original.
• Persian characteristics may include nomenclature of officials, development of “satan” (like Zechariah 3), but choice of Edomite wisdom may not suit Israel after 587 BCE. (Edomite names dominate; cf. Genesis 36:4, 11 and Uz is identified with Edom in Lamentations 4:21; Edom was known for its wisdom, Jeremiah 49:7; Obadiah 8.)
• The names of God define the narrator as Hebrew but the dialogue as deliberately set in a  non-Hebrew or more ancient setting.[2]

	Eloah	Shaddai	El	Elohim	Yahweh
Narrator	0	0	0	3	31
Dialogues	41	31	57	13	1
Heb. Bible	57	48	236	2,6000	5,828

Genre

• Options include:  Dramatic Lament (Westermann), Lawsuit (Sutherland), Controversy Dialogue (Crenshaw), Epic (Sarna), Greek Tragedy (Kallen), or Parable (Maimonides).
• The Most Significant ANE Parallels:  “Babylonian Theodicy” (1000 BCE; a poetic dialogue of a questioning sufferer with a friend with traditional views and concluding that traditional views are inadequate) and the Akkadian “I Will Praise the Lord of Wisdom” [Ludlul Bel Nemeqi] (600-1150 BCE; a monologue lamenting suffering which is perceived as punishment from the gods).[3]  There are other texts that parallel in different ways from Egypt and Mesopotamia (see Pope’s introduction to Job in the Anchor Bible series).
• But Job is unique in length, variety of genre, theology, , etc. But it does share a common ANE wisdom concern with some similar strategies: the justice of God and human suffering.

Composition

Some suggest this process (critics have different orders but these are the components):

Stage 1:  The Dialogues As Original (chapters 3-31, excluding chapter 28)

Stage 2:  The Prologue/Epilogue Added (chapters 1-2, 42:7-17)

Stage 3:  The Yahweh Speeches Added (chapters 38-42:6)

Stage 4:  The Elihu Speeches Added (chapters 32-37)

Stage 5:  The Wisdom Poem Added (chapter 28).

   Rationale

• International vs. Hebrew (e.g., Yahwehist) sections (intentional or two works?)
• Prologue/Epilogue may have been adapted from an oral, ancient folktale.
• Strong contrast between Narrative and Dialogues (intentional or clumsy?)
• ANE literature has Dialogues without Prose (but some with both, eg., Egypt).
• Elihu is not mentioned in the Prologue/Epilogue or Dialogue (potential rationale?)
• Wisdom Poem as Final Compiler’s resolution (or as part of Job’s speech?)

Where Are We?

• Uncertainty about literary development (no textual history to suggest it).
• The possibility of reading the text as a whole (a final editor at least read it that way).
• The possibility that the text is from a single person, lacks literary growth and is the work of a skilled poet who plays with dissonance within the text.
• Developmental theories are primarily rooted in hermeneutical moves (e.g., “this does not make sense unless we suppose that “X” was added later, as in “Satan” is not mention in the Dialogues or Elihu is not mentioned in the Epilogue).  Hermeneutics will then judge.
• The final editor (however that happened) thought the work was coherent, and the community of faith embraced it as a way of serving faith.

Canonical Theology

As part of the canon—both Hebrew and Christian—we embrace the conviction that Job is “word of God” to us. This is a theological commitment linked to community, tradition, and the existential power of the text.

Consequently, we read in hope that God will use this ancient book to transform us and shape us into a people who serve as a light to the nations.

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[1] Edward L. Greenstein, “The Language of Job and Its Poetic Function,” JBL 122 (2003) 651-666.

[2] The chart is adapted from http://epreacher.org/sermons/b-jobintro.pdf.

[3] “Babylonian Theodicy” is available at http://www.etana.org/node/582 and “I will Praise” is available at http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/1700ludlul.asp.

The Prologue to Job: Hermeneutical Considerations

If the narrative prologue is a hermeneutical lens through which we read its poetic core, then it is important to understand what the narrative projects as the hermeneutical keys for reading the dramatic poetry of Job 3:1-42:6.  I suggest at least three hermeneutical keys are found in the Prologue that enable a faithful reading of the poetic drama.

1. Job is righteous.

The narrator affirms the integrity and righteousness of Job both explicitly and insistently. The narrator’s judgment, twice in the mouth of Yahweh, is stated three times:  Job is “blameless and righteous” as one who “fears God and turns away from evil” (1:1, 8; 2:3).

Both characterizations are impressive.  The first “blameless and righteous” uses common liturgical and wisdom language. This tandem also occurs in Psalm 25:21:  “May integrity and uprightness preserve me” (cf. Psalm 37:37). It is the language that describes David’s life before God, that is, one who walked “with integrity of heart and uprightness” (1 Kings 9:4). It is wisdom language (Proverbs 2:7). “Blameless” is better understood as “integrity” rather than something akin to sinlessness. It represents something complete, whole and innocent.

The second “fearing God and turning away from evil” is essentially the epitome of wisdom itself.  Proverbs 3:7 identifies wisdom as fearing Yahweh and turning from evil (Proverbs 16:6). The wisdom poem in Job 28 ends (v. 28) places the fear of the Lord and turning away from evil at the center of wisdom.

The point, I think, is that Job is a wise person. He embodies wisdom in his culture. Yahweh affirms him.  This does not mean that Job is sinless, but it does mean that Job is a godly person who persistently lives out his faith in consistent ways.

Integrity (tam) may be the key term.  Yahweh acknowledges Job’s integrity in the narrative (2:3) and Job asserts his integrity throughout the dialogues and his monologue (9:20-21; 12:4; 27:6; 31:6). In this Job is neither arrogant nor boastful. He is honest.

Consequently, a hermeneutical key to the book is that Job is righteous.  However we read the poetic sections, Job is innocent. Nothing should undermine this point.

2.  The Central Question.

The question that occasions the troubles which issue in the whole dramatic lament is succinctly stated by the accuser in Job 1:6:  “Does Job fear God for nothing?” This is the question to which the whole drama responds.

It is a cosmic question. Is there anyone, in the whole universe, who serves God without a profit motive? Are all human beings consumers? Are there any humans who are communers, that is, interested in communing and loving God? Are humans wholly self-interested or are there any who are relationally driven? Job is paradigmatic of every person. Every person stands where Job stands—they are either consumers or communers.

Communers are those who love God for God’s own sake (a la St. Bernard’s sermon “On Loving God”). Consumers “love” God for their own sake. Communers surrender all of self to enjoy (commune with) all of God. Consumers surrender none of self but rather consume all that God gives without giving any of self to God.

The cosmic drama in Job is whether there is any human being who will love God for God’s own sake, or do all humans serve God for profit. The wicked ask, “what profit do we get if we pray to him?” (Job 21:15.) As the embodiment of wisdom, what will Job do?

Consequently, this question sizzles underneath the dialogue and is the root issue between God and Job. This question is the pair of glasses we need to wear as we read Job.

3.  Divine Responsibility.

“The accuser” (Satan?) gets far too much credit. Clearly, Satan goes out from Yahweh’s presence and acts (1:12; 2:7a). But he does so by Yahweh’s (1) direct permission, (2) within Yahweh’s boundaries, and (3) through Yahweh’s empowerment.

The narrator makes this point through the metaphor of the “hand” of God. Satan requests the extension of God’s hand and God extends it (that is, God acts) but with restrictions (1:11,12; 2:5).  Yahweh is not passive but active; Yahweh is not engaged in laissez-faire management of the cosmos. On the contrary, Yahweh empowers the accuser to act.

Consequently, a hermeneutical key is that Yahweh is responsible for what happened to Job. Indeed, Job claims this and he does so in the language of the prologue (narrator):  “Whom among all these does not know that the hand of Yahweh has done this?” (Job 12:9.)  Both of Job’s responses locate responsibility solely in God’s hands (Job 1:21; 2:9). To divert responsibility to the accuser is to undermine the sovereignty of Yahweh in this narration.

Conclusion

It seems to me that if we do not recognize these three hermeneutical principles, the deeper meaning of the book of Job will elude us as we misconstrue Job’s statements and miss the point that Yahweh intends to make in answering the accuser’s question.

The Prologue of Job: Three Questions

In my last post I noted three hermeneutical keys for reading the book of Job.  But is there dissonance within the Prologue as well that might undermine those keys? Three questions are particularly important.

1.  Is Job a Legalist?

Some think the description of Job in 1:5 is a bit neurotic. They may have a point.  Though wise, Job does seem a bit obsessed with his sacrifices for his children. Offering an animal for each child (ten, including the sisters) is certainly more than the Torah ever required and seems excessive. The motive also seems excessive since Job is not aware of any sin per se but only the potential for sin—the children may have cursed God “in their hearts.” Job does not know, so he covers this bases. And this is perceived by some as legalistic.

At the same time, a patriarchal head held responsibility for his family (cf. Genesis 8:20; 31:54; 46:1). The sacrifices may simply express a sincere piety towards God. The sacrifices bespeak his love for his children as much as they do any impropriety.

While not legalistic—as if Job is in a frantic scurry to make sure he is on God’s good side—there seems to be a latent fear in Job’s heart. He fears that his children’s feasting may incur God’s judgment due to their sin. Perhaps he fears calamity. And it is ironic that the sin Job fears his children may commit is the very one which the whole poetic drama waits to see if Job will commit.  Will Job curse God?

Job 1:4-5 may have a dual purpose. It may underscore Job’s piety, but it may also illuminate Job’s fear. While Job is wise, he is not perfect. Indeed, in Job’s first lament, he will voice that what he had “greatly feared” (NJKV) had happened to him (Job 3:25). Even the wisest people sometimes still live with some fears.

What we might anticipate, then, is that while Job is wise, he still has room for growth in the fear of Yahweh. Job, though wise, is still a work in progress.

2.  Is Satan the Evil Angel?

This is a thorny question. Readers of the New Testament automatically associate this “Satan” with the figure in the Gospels (e.g., Matthew 4:10; Mark 1:13; Luke 10:18) and Paul’s epistles (e.g., 1 Corinthians 5:5; 7:5). “Satan” in Job seems to act in ways that would reflect Satanic activity in the New Testament. The association seems natural and canonical.

But it is possible that Christian translators ant tradition have made this move too easily and without critical thought. The Hebrew term “satan” simply means adversary and the noun occurs often in the Hebrew Bible in that general sense. Indeed, here the noun is not a personal name as in “Satan” but is a designation, that is, this angelic being is “the satan” or “the adversary” (like Zechariah 3:1 but unlike 1 Chronicles 21:1). The article indicates it is not a personal name any more than “the abraham” would mean “Abraham” as a name rather than “the father of a multitude.”

But whose adversary is he? He belongs among the “sons of God”—when they gather, he gathers with them. He is one of them. He is not singled out because he is different from the others but because the accusation sets up the story. He is not God’s adversary. Rather, he is humanity’s accuser, specifically Job’s accuser. He is an adversary in the sense that he questions Job’s commitment to Yahweh. The accuser does not believe that Job (or any human?) serves God for God’s sake.

But does not the adversary’s activity indicate his malevolence? In this context, not any more than God’s responsibility for it.  Whatever happens is attributed to Yahweh. “The satan” disappears from the rest of the book. He is not a player in the drama itself.  The poetic drama is a wrestling between God, Job and the friends—the adversary plays no role in the drama itself.  The role of “the satan” is not of major hermeneutical interest for the book as a whole but only as the “setup-person” for the drama itself. The resolution to whatever problem the book is addressing is not found in the function of “the satan.”

Consequently, the satan does not play a role in the resolution of the issues of the book.  The issues are solved in the sovereignty of God, not in the activity of the satan.  It is the sovereignty of God that permits the satan to act as he does.  Instead, the satan is introduced to give us the “trial framework” of Job’s suffering.  The satan is the means by which Job is tried–that is his only function in the book.  Once he has completed his task, there is no more reason for involving the character in the rest of the story.

3.  Are Job’s Responses Examples of Naiveté?

Some think that Job’s responses (Job 1:21; 2:10) to his tragedies are at best naïve statements of misguided faith and at worst fundamentally wrong and dangerous to faith despite their pious sound. The statements supposedly sound like the friends (e.g., Job 5:18). It is thought by some that these are moments when Job spoke of things he did not understand (cf. Job 42:3).

But even if it sounds like the friends (which is questionable), it sounds like Job himself throughout the dialogue, and it sounds like the narrator of the Epilogue as well (42:11), and Yahweh does not deny it. Attributing responsibility to Yahweh is one of the key truths of the whole drama itself.  How can it be naive when the whole prologue underscores the point which Job acknowledges?

At the same time, Job’s resignation and acceptance seems in tension with his lament in chapter 3 after seven days of mourning. How can such acceptance, even blessing of God, explode into lament, questioning and anger?

I don’t find that strange. I can remember in the midst of my first days of loss a sense of faith and strength that exceeded my own expectations. But in the days and weeks ahead that strength gave way to deep lament, questioning and anger.

I would suggest that we read Job’s responses at two levels.  First, we read it as the pious acceptance of a wise man whose faith in Yahweh shapes his engagement with life. That acceptance is later shaken, debated, discussed, and questioned…but it still ultimately remains intact throughout the dialogue.

Second, we read it as the narrator’s answer to the question raised by “the satan.” Job accepts, surrenders to, and trusts in God’s handling of the world.  Instead of “cursing” Yahweh, Job blesses Yahweh. “The satan” was wrong.

In Job’s responses we actually see the primary purpose of the book coming into play. Job models how human beings respond to suffering, but it is only the beginning of the story.  Job will go through a valley before he again returns to this loving, praise-filled, humbled acceptance. That is the journey of the dramatic poem. That is the journey of lament.  Through Job’s journey with his friends, we learn how to speak of God well (like Job) and how to speak badly (like the friends).  Job spoke well but the friends badly, according to the Epilogue (Job 42:7-8).

Job’s response is the response of Israel. “Blessed be the name of Yahweh” is a liturgical prayer within the community of faith (Psalm 113:2). Job exemplifies the proper response to suffering, to all reality, since Yahweh alone is the Lord of the universe. Job is a model for Israel and for all humanity.

The Prologue of Job: The Structured Story

The story narrated by the Prologue is symmetrical and artistic.  It is neatly structured into two encounters between Yahweh and Satan bounded by an introductory affirmation of Job’s character and a concluding mourning with friends.  We may outline it in this manner.

A. Introduction: Job’s Character (1:1-5)

B.  First Encounter between Yahweh and Satan (1:6-12)

 C.  The Disasters on Job’s Children and Wealth (1:13-19)

D.  Job’s Response (1:20-22)

B’  Second Encounter Between Yahweh and Satan (2:1-6)

C’ The Disaster on Job’s Person (2:7-8)

D’ Job’s Response (2:9-10)

E.  Conclusion: Job Mourns with Friends (2:11-13)

As noted in previous posts, Job is a wise person whose soul, like everyone’s, has regions of fear. He fears calamity. His devotion is sincere, his piety is authentic and his wisdom is renown but he nevertheless fears for his children, as most parents do.

The Trials

Yahweh gathered the “sons of God” before his throne and among them was one designated “the accuser” because of the role he would play in the prologue. This one stands as the accuser of humanity, of Job in particular. The accuser turns Yahweh’s invitation to enjoy and delight in Job’s goodness into an accusation against Job.

The narrator introduces us to how meaningful human life is by adopting the literary convention of a “trial” within the divine assembly. Yahweh values Job’s wisdom, accentuates it, and brags about it.  The accuser questions it.  Yahweh decides to test it—and Job himself, later in the Dialogue, senses he is being tested (Job 23:10).  Job’s faith has cosmic meaning; it has a significance beyond its situated exercise in the Transjordan.

Job represents all humanity. We enter this story through Job (or sometimes through the friends).  The significance of his faith is the significance of our faith. We matter to God just as Job mattered.

And this faith must be fully tested. All the props of faith are knocked out from under Job—external blessings (children, wealth) and personal blessings (health, relationships). Ultimately, Job stands naked and alone before God. It is naked faith—no support, no props, no blessings. And Job still blesses the name of Yahweh.

The trials are not so much random acts by Yahweh as they are part of Yahweh’s management of the cosmos. Testing, probing, challenging and exercising faith through struggles is part of the means by which humans are transformed more fully and more deeply.  This is the theology of trial or testing in the hands of Yahweh as the narrator offers it to us.

The Nature of the Trials

Job’s suffering is multi-faceted. There is no easy explanation from a human point of view.  The chaos of nature—though called the “fire of God”—results in death and destruction and the moral outrages of the Sabeans and Chaldeans bring theft and death. It is seemingly chaotic, but it is not. It is specifically permitted, bounded, and empowered by Yahweh.

The narrator calls them “troubles” or “evils” (Job 2:10, 11; 42:11). It is a word that has a wide range of meaning from evil to disasters. Its basic meaning is “evil,” but in varying contexts it  may be translated “troubles” or “disasters.” It is what Job, as a wise person, avoids–he turns away from “evil” (Job 1:1, 8; 2:13), but it is also what he has received from the hand of Yahweh. The narrator uses the same word to describe what Job avoids and what Yahweh empowered.

Job experiences what theodicists have called moral and natural evil, but not ultimately at the hands of a satanic demon or a chaotic reality but by the hand of Yahweh. This is chilling, and immediately we want to find hermeneutical moves to say, “It ain’t so!” But the narrator is clear. Job himself voices it…twice (1:21; 2:10). And nothing in the coming dialogues and monologues as well as Epilogue questions that claim.

Nevertheless, interpreters have attempted to set the Prologue in tension with the rest of the literary work. For example, Yahweh does not take responsibility in the Yahweh speeches, does he? Or, does not the dialogue indicate the futility of attributing these “evils” to God? As we move through Job, we will pay attention to these supposed tensions. But I think they ultimately fail. The whole of the work—from Job in the Prologue, to the friends in the Dialogue, to Job in his monologue, to Elihu in his intervention, the narrator in the Epilogue, and, yes, even Yahweh—lays these “evils” at the feet of Yahweh.

It is for this very reason that Job feels so abandoned, so alone. Though expressing piety in his mourning, it will soon explode in a protesting theodicy. Yahweh is responsible! What’s up with that?

The Mourning Ritual

Friends do arrive. Job is no longer alone. They come to “sympathize with him and comfort him.” These terms are found in parallel in Psalm 69:20 where the lamenter bemoans the lack of support in his community.

Reproaches have broken my heart,

so that I am in despair;

  I looked for pity [sympathy], but there was none,

                    and for comforters, but I found none.

Job, too, looks for such. Perhaps he finds it, at least somewhat in the seven days of silence that his friends weep with him. I imagine this weeping is not inaudible. The silence probably refers more to the lack of dialogue rather than the lack of groaning, crying, and moaning.  The seven days may be symbolic of completeness or perhaps it is the mourning practice of an ancient culture.

The actions of the friends reflect an authentic sympathy. They care for their friend. They share his dust and they share his grief by ripping their clothes. The friends show up; they are present. Nothing need be said; nothing need be shared except the tears.

Job is no longer alone….or is he?

Job 3: Sometimes It Has to Be Said

The narrator provides the frame of mind with which to read this magnificent and stunning poem—rather than cursing God (which is what the satan expected), Job curses the day of his birth. The narrator’s introduction underscores that the satan was wrong about Job. At the same time, Job wishes he had never been born or at least that he had been stillborn. The poem is a complaint, a lament that culminates in Job’s description of his own miserable situation (there are many similarities between this complaint and Jeremiah 20:14-18).

The poem is organized into three strophes:  (1) the curse in verses 3-10, (2) the contrast between life and Sheol in verses 11-19, and (3) Job’s desire for Sheol in verses 20-26.

The poem is striking for what it says and what it does not say. There is no repudiation of his earlier confessions of faith (1:21; 2:10). It does not address God directly and lays no blame on God. There is no reflection on the idea of divine retribution and no admission of guilt. Many of the themes that will fill the dialogue between Job and his friends are absent from this opening lament.

Instead, Job is wholly focused on his feelings, and they will emerge again and again throughout the Dialogue. There is no theological reflection, no ideological agenda. It is a dramatic, violent, and harrowing declaration of feelings centered on two points:  “I wish I were dead” and “Why am I still alive after such trouble?”

“I wish I were dead.”  Job wishes he had never been born or at least stillborn. He calls for the reversal of creation (Genesis 1:3-5)  itself when it comes to the day of his birth. He even summons the chaotic cosmic powers of the Leviathan to destroy his birthday (cf. Psalm 74:14; Isaiah 27:1).  That day should sink back into darkness, into nothingness, “because it did not shut the doors of my mother’s womb and hide trouble from my eyes” (3:10).

“Why am I still alive after such trouble?” The “why” question fills the second and third strophes. Five times (in the NRSV) Job asks “why” in the space of sixteen verses (2:11, 12, 16, 20, 23). The question expresses a depth of feeling that only those who have experienced tragedy can fathom.  Why was he born? Why did he not die at birth? Why does he yet live to experience the bitterness of the soul? Why did he not die with his children?

These feelings and questions resonate with those who have wished they were dead (and I have been among them at times). We understand the question “why?” and we resent those who piously object to asking the question. Sometimes we are told to ask, “Well, why not me?” But the question still remains, “Why me? Why this? Why now?” These questions express our feelings and they probe divine wisdom.  “Why,” Job asks, “is light given to one who cannot see the way, whom God has fenced in?” (Job 3:23.)

At the same time, Job’s language and conceptual scheme seems dependent upon his responses in the Prologue.  (David Herbison, one of my students at LU, alerted me to this.)  Job remembers that he came from his mother’s womb (1:21) and Job here wishes he hadn’t (3:10-11). Job remembers that Yahweh gives and takes away (1:21) and Job here acknowledges that God gives light to him when he doesn’t want it (3:20) while at the same time Job wants the darkness to seize (same verb as “take away”) the night of his birth (3:6). But what is missing is any note of praise in this poem that is present in his earlier response:  ”Blessed be the name of Yahweh” (much like it is missing in the lament of Psalm 88). Job, in this poem, is focused on lament, complaint and his misery. There is no room for praise now though he does not abandon the praise of God as the dialogue will demonstrate (cf. Job 12:7-13). Sometimes we don’t feel like praising or quoting Psalm 23.

Sheol looks inviting from where Job sits on the dung heap.  [The Hebrew term sheol is not actually used until Job 7:9.] At least Sheol is quiet and restful (3:13)—restful not only for kings and princes (3:14-15) but also for the wicked as well as the weary (3:17-19). All earthly distinctions are obliterated there; we are all equals there, all dead. Given Job’s present “trouble” or misery (3:10, 20), Sheol is desired above life itself. He longs for it like a hidden treasure (3:21-22). His experience of trouble is analogous to the hardships of Egypt (Deuteronomy 26:7)  and the anguish of the servant in Isaiah (53:11), as he uses the same word those authors use.

Job’s embrace of Sheol as a place of rest stands in contrast with his later characterizations (such as Job 10:21-22) as a place of gloom and darkness. Nevertheless, it is better than his present life.  What characterizes this life now is “trouble” (3:10, 20) and “turmoil” (3:17, 26).  Trouble or misery is one of Job’s favorite words to describe his situation (Job 7:3; 16:2). It is also the word his friends will use to describe what evil people do and receive (Job 4:4; 5:6,7; 11:16; 15:35; 20:22).

The conclusion of the poem is stunning. The last word in Hebrew is “turmoil” (or trouble; also in 3:17)–a word that expresses horrifying emotional distress (cf. Isaiah 14:16; 23:11; Joel 2:11). The term expresses a raging, a protesting, a rumbling (see the literal use in Job 37:2; 38:24). Job is distraught, angry and ready to protest. There is no wimpy acceptance here but a protest, a thunderous rumble from the bitter depths of his soul.

This is Job’s lot at the moment. There is no rest; there is no quiet. His fears have been realized and his food/drink is lament. It makes no sense to him; it makes no sense why God gives life to those who sit where he sits. Why does God continue to fence or hem them in? God would be gracious if he would just snuff out his life and send him to Sheol, but God continues to hedge him in.  What was once a divine protection in 1:10 is now perceived as a divine hindrance—the encircling hedge bars Job from Sheol where he wants to go.

Death seems better than this life. While Job does not choose suicide, he would prefer death to his present existence. That feeling is not uncommon for sufferers. What we hear in Job 3 is an authentic protest against a life filled with “trouble.” Death is better than that kind of life, at least it looks that way from the dung heap.

This is how Job feels. Let Job sit in it; and when I feel that way, let me sit in it. Sometimes we simply need to grieve—without advice, without correction, without platitudes.  Sometimes we simply have to say what we feel and that is the way sufferers grieve, mourn and endure.

Unfortunately, sometimes friends cannot sit with us and they find it hard to “hear” us. Instead, they are “compelled” to speak when it would have been better if they had never said a word.

Mark 1:16-20 — The First Disciples

The good news about Jesus Christ is that the kingdom of God has drawn near. That is how Mark introduces his gospel (Mark 1:1-15). The first half  (Mark 1:16-8:30) narrates the in-breaking of the kingdom of God in the activity of Jesus. The second half (Mark 8:30-16:8) identifies Jesus as the suffering servant who gives his life for the world and inaugurates a new world.

The setting for the first half is Galilee while the setting for the second half is the journey to and ministry in Jerusalem. The former is focused on Jesus’ authority, teaching and mentoring of the disciples while the latter is focused on the passion of Jesus in both anticipation and actualization. In the first half Jesus is the amazing, authoritative teacher who speaks and acts as God’s representative while in the second half Jesus is the redemptive sufferer for the world.

Jesus’ Galilean ministry begins with the call of his first disciples. Mark introduces four key people who will figure promienently in his narrative. He also introduces the language that will shape his understanding of these figures–they followed Jesus.  In Mark 1:16-18, Jesus calls Peter and Andrew, two brothers. In Mark 1:19-20, Jesus calls two other brothers, James and John. In both stories, the final line (in v. 18 and in v. 20) in Greek is “they followed him” (though in Greek it is two different expressions with an overlapping semantic range).

“Follow” is Mark’s word for discipleship (akolouthew is used seventeen times). The concept, however, is more important than the word itself. Discipleship is foundational to the ministry of Jesus. It is his first concrete act in the Gospel–he calls others to follow him. “Come afer me,” he says to Peter and Andrw.  He “called”  James and John. They left everything, but not in the sense that they would never fish the sea of Galilee again or no longer have homes. Rather, they left everything in the sense that they fundamentally reoriented their lives. Their calling (vocaton) to follow Jesus is more fundamental than their careers as fishermen. Their vocation now shapes their careers and what they do with their careers. It is a realignment of priorities.

For us as well, discipleship is a fundamental realignment of our priorities. We find our vocation in following Jesus no matter what our careers may be. Indeed, our careers, shaped by discipleship, are means by which we follow Jesus as we embody the kingdom of God in our various jobs. Those jobs are forms of discipleship as we follow Jesus.  Our careers, as they participate in the mission of Jesus, are one means by which we live our calling (vocation).

What does Jesus call them–and us–to do? The funadmental message of Jesus is key (Mark 1:14-15) and when linked with the language of human fishers a significant point emerges. The language of “fishing” for people is present in the Hebrew prophets (Jeremiah 16:16; Ezekiel 29:41, 38:4; Amos 4:2; Habakkuk 1:14-17), but there it is associated with divine judgment as God gathers humanity for an accounting. The language is also present in Qumran–a community contemporary with the ministries of John the Baptist and Jesus. They regarded themselves as the instrument of God’s ingathering.

The disciples as fishers are those who heraled the message of Jesus to “repent and believe the gospel.” In other words, they are called to gather a community of penitent believers who live in the light of the coming kingdom, the coming eschatological reality (including judgment). As Lane writes, “The summons to be fishers of men is a call to the eschatological task of gatering [a community] in view of the forthcoming judgment of God” (Gospel of Mark, 68).

To be “fishers” is, then, evangelism, the heralding of the good news (gospel). However, we should be careful that we do not immediately associate this with contemporary revivalist preaching or witnessing. Evangelism certainly includes such but the vision is much larger than that. It is the gathering of a community of disciples among whom the kingdom reigns as they live penitently and humbly in anticipation of the eschaton. This envisions a community that heralds the reign of God in all its dimensions–economic justice, ecology, and peace as well as the forgiveness of  individual sins. To be “fishers” is to participate in a community of disciples that heralds the reign of God.

Through calling disciples, some of whom will be called the “Twelve” (Mark 6:6), Jesus mentors a community whose task is evangelism. That community, now empowered by the Spirit poured out at Pentecost, continues in the church. One cannot follow Jesus without participating in community, without heralding the good news, and without praticing the kingdom of God in their lives. Just as we followed Jesus into the water and then into the wilderness, so we follow him in heralding and practicing the good news of the kingdom of God.

In this text, Jesus calls four disciples. These are the first of millions. Contemporary believers are part of that group, and contemporary believers, just like Peter, Andrew, James and John, must be mentored (discipled) by Jesus. That is why we read, study, pray over and meditate upon the Gospel of Mark. Through such Spirit-led focused attention–both in private and in community, we learn how to follow Jesus.

Mark 1:21-28 — Amazed at His Authoritative Teaching

Mark begins his snapshot of a day in the life of Jesus at the synagogue in Capernaum, a village located on the northwest shore of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus goes to synagogue–he participates in the community of Israel as a practicing Jew, a descendant of Abraham. But there is something new, something different, about Jesus.

What is different is Jesus’ authoritative teaching. The synagogue hearers are twice said to be “amazed” at this teaching (1:22, 27). But why are they amazed? What is so striking about Jesus’ teaching? It does not appear, at this point, to be content. Rather, it is Jesus’ authority (exousia).

His authority is perceived in two ways. One is found in the contrast between how Jesus teaches and the way the teachers of the law teach.  Perhaps we might understand this along the lines of the difference between one who teaches wholly dependent upon the authority of the Torah (the scribes) and another who teaches as a commissioned prophet, one anointed to herald the coming of the kingdom of God. Jesus is no mere teacher who expounds the Torah (though he does this at times). More than that, he is an eschatological prophet…and more than that, as Mark will make clear, the anointed Messianic Son of God. He is, as the demon announces, the “Holy One of God.” Jesus’ authority is immediate whereas the authority of the scribes is mediate. Jesus comes with his own authority while the scribes derive theirs from the Torah.

A second perception of Jesus’ authority surfaces when Jesus exercises dominion over the demons. Here authority is neither the content of his teaching, the manner of his teaching, nor the source of his authority, but the actual, concrete demonstration of that authority. This demonstration is not simply a healing, but an assertion of dominion over hostile powers. “Shut up!” and “Come out of him,” Jesus orders. It is an enactment of the kingdom of God. The reign of God is actualized in this moment; the heralding of the kingdom of God in the teaching of Jesus becomes real in the life of the one healed.

Jesus’ authority, then, is directly related to his proclamation of the kingdom of God–which is the message of Jesus (Mark 1:14-15). He is the eschatological prophet who heralds the kingdom and the one through whom the reign of God comes into the lives of people. This is the authority of Jesus and it is totally unlike any authority that the teachers of the Torah might claim for themselves.

The encounter with the demon underscores the eschatological nature of Jesus’ ministry. Apparently, there  was, to all appearances, a good “church-going believer” in the synagogue that morning who was possessed by an unclean spirit. He seems to have shown no outward signs of that possession until he interrupts Jesus’ teaching. The demon objects to Jesus’ presence and to his purpose.

Jesus came to end the reign of the demonic (“unclean spirits”) in the world. The demon recognizes this but he appears startled that the time has already come (Mark 1:14–”the time is fulfilled”). It is not yet time, so the demon thinks.  But Jesus’ presence tells a different story. The time is now. The new age has begun in the ministry of Jesus as he exercises authority over demons.

It is no wonder that the people are amazed. They are amazed by the authority of Jesus’ presence, both in terms of his personal identity as an immediate representative of God and in terms of his redemptive, eschatological act. Jesus belongs to the new age, the age of the kingdom of God. The reign of God is breaking into the world against the hostile powers that enslave it.

And the news spreads throughout Galilee.  It is good news, it is good news about Jesus (Mark 1:1). God is doing something wondrous, something new. And the people are amazed.

Perhaps we should pause to reflect on where the good news is in our lives, in our communities, in our churches. Where is the amazement? Unfortunately, it seems that people are rarely positively amazed by Christian ministry. They are suspicious. They are sometimes hostile. Perhaps the problem is that Christian ministry is often more self-serving than it is kingdom-seeking. Perhaps it is more about consumption and consumers than it is kingdom-focused. We read the Gospel of Mark to remember, renew and reorient ourselves as God calls and empowers us in kingdom ministry.

Whatever the case may be, the disciples in Mark follow Jesus because Jesus is the anointed eschatological prophet through whom the reign of  God comes into the world. That is also why we follow Jesus.

Job 4-5: Eliphaz Responds to Job’s Lament

Eliphaz feels compelled to speak. “Who can keep from speaking?,” he asks. Job has cursed the day of his birth and questioned why God has permitted him to live. Eliphaz perceives him as “impatient” (4:5; same word as “offended” in 4:2, NRSV) and “dismayed” (perhaps terrified). He reminds Job that Job has helped the weak with words himself in times past, and now Eliphaz wants to help Job with some wisdom (4:3-4).  Job is not responding well to his situation, according to Eliphaz. He needs some advice…and some “hope.”

What must Job do? Job should rest in the “fear of God” and in Job’s “integrity” (4:6). How ironic! This is how the Prologue characterized Job–a person of integrity that feared of God (exactly the same language). One wonders what Job was thinking at this moment, but given the Prologue we know Eliphaz is barking up the wrong tree.  He might be right about fear God and maintain integrity, trust and obey–but he is preaching to the choir in the case of Job.

Job’s lament in the previous chapter was not a repudiation of that life orientation. Nothing he said entailed that hehad given up either his integrity or the fear of  God. Rather, it was a emotive, heart-rending questioning of why trouble has come to him though he was a person of integrity and the fear of God. Eliphaz is missing the point.

Eliphaz’s Speeches

So, where does Eliphaz go with this? He first appeals to shared traditional wisdom (4:7-11) and then he appeals to his own personal encounter with divine revelation (4:12-21).

Traditional wisdom says that whoever “sow[s] trouble reap[s] the same” (4:8). “Trouble” is the word Job used in 3:10, 20. The troubled are in trouble because they sowed trouble, according to Eliphaz, and the righteous live while the wicked perish (4:7). But Job is righteous–Eliphaz uses the same word that the Prologue used in 1:1, 8; 2:3; Job is not a troubler. Eliphaz has misjudged the situation.

Eliphaz backs up his perspective with his own encounter with God. Eliphaz has “heard [the] voice” of a spirit in a dream or night vision (4:13, 16). The voice said:  ”Can mortals be more righteous than God? Can human beings be more pure than their Maker?” (4:17.) But who would deny that in any ultimate sense? Job does not.  But Eliphaz says more. If God does not trust his own servants (angels?), he notes, how would he ever trust those who live in houses founded on dust? (4:18-19). Would God ever trust a human being? And, again, the irony–this is exactly what God did in the Prologue…God trusted Job. Moreover, he entrusted the cosmic witness of faith to Job.

Because of this revelation, according to Eliphaz, Job should listen to his wisdom. Job has puffed himself up with his own righteousness as though he could approach God with his venting. This is, according to Eliphaz, foolish (offensive to God), and fools live in cursed dwellings where “trouble” (same word as in 3:10, 20; 4:8) sprouts up. Their children, Eliphaz says, are unprotected (5:1-7).

Such language must have broken Job’s heart even further. Had he not tried to protect his children through sacrifices and a life of wisdom in the fear of God? But his children are dead. Eliphaz links this to a cursed dwelling due to the trouble that Job sowed. Job is the blame for the death of his children.

After reaching that low point, Eliphaz turns positive. He states his own credo, his own approach to life (“as for me,” 5:8). He offers a praise of God (5:8-16) which is a traditional doxology and applies this to Job’s situation (5:17-26).

The theology in this section is lofty. God reigns over the creation–God sends the rain, lifts up the lowly, frustrates the designs of the wicked, and saves the needy. Consequently, “the poor have hope” (5:16). One could have lifted this out any number of the Psalms. It is almost as if he is quoting a Hebrew liturgy that praises God for creation and divine justice. Eliphaz offers Job hope–God may yet reverse his circumstances.

Job, however, must recognize the “discipline of the Almighty” (5:17). Eliphaz  applies the previous doxology to Job’s circumstances. God will bind up the wounds and heal the strikes, even protect Job from seven “troubles” and bless him abundantly (including having more children, 5:25) if Job will submit to God’s rebuke.

The centerpiece of this application is a beatitude:  ”Blessed is the one whom God reproves,” and “therefore,” Eliphaz says, “do not despise the discipline of the Almighty” (5:17). This is traditional wisdom and it may have links to Psalm 94:12 and Proverbs 3:11-12 (which is quoted in Hebrews 12:5-6). There is substantial truth in this saying, but it is lost in Eliphaz’s misapplication. If Job will repent of sowing trouble, according to Eliphaz, then God will return his children, prosperity and health. A little theology is a dangerous thing. God may be discipling Job, but God is not punishing him and there is no promise of children, prosperity and health embedded in God’s testing.

Eliphaz thought he had been helpful. He shared wisdom with Job; what he has said is “true” and if Job  listened well, he would recognize the truth (5:27).

Eliphaz’s Mistakes

Eliphaz, to his credit, does attempt to be conciliatory, gentle and hopeful–he approaches his friend with rhetorical questions.  Apparently, however, Job did not think he tried very hard.    Despite the best of intentions and with even a small amount of insightful theology (e.g., 5:8-17), we–like Eliphaz–can do more harm than good.

Below I have noted several Eliphaz’s pastoral mistakes.

Mistake One.  The friends thought they had to speak. They could not bear to hear Job’s heart-rending lament in chapter 3 and stay silent. Eliphaz cautions Job about impatience, insinuates that perhaps he should just listen “but who can keep from speaking,” he says (4:2).

Lesson:  Be present and be silent; when in any doubt, choose silence. Don’t speak because silence is uncomfortable.

Mistake Two.  The friends cautioned Job about his words. “Call if you will,” Eliphaz taunts Job, “but who will answer you?” (5:1) Job’s words are dangerous, edgy, and cross the line with God, so they think. Eliphaz thinks Job is insolent and impatient.

Lesson: Listen to their lament. Don’t judge it and don’t critique it. Let it flow and let it go. Listen, listen and then listen some more.

Mistake Three.  The friends reminded Job how God takes care of the righteous. “Consider now,” Eliphaz says, “who, being innocent, has ever perished? Where were the upright every destroyed?” (4:7). What is Job supposed to think about that? If Eliphaz is right, Job can’t be upright or innocent (but the reader knows that the Lord himself declared him such in Job 1-2).

Lesson: “Cheer up, my brother; live in the sunshine!”  “God will take care of you; trust him!” Such platitudes are meaningless when you’ve been crushed. They have an opposite effect than what is intended. Such words may turn the sufferer away from trust because now it appears that God has not considered them worthy of his protection.

Mistake Four.  The friends plead with Job to accept the Lord’s discipline for his sins. God will rescue him from his calamities and secure him against future ones (5:18-26) if only he will “not despise the discipline of the Almighty” (5:17). There may be a place for this if sins are the cause of the circumstances–which sufferers often need to recognize for themselves.  But in Job’s circumstances–tragic events unrelated to his actions, tragedies beyond his control–the advice rings hollow.

Lesson: “God is teaching you something; listen to him, repent and get your life straight.” Never, ever attribute the suffering to some defect in the sufferer. Sufferers may do that for themselves, but it is not the place of the comforter to connect the dots for them if there are any dots to connect.

Mistake Five.  The friends interpreted Job’s suffering and alluded to elements of his pain. Eliphaz does this twice in two sections in Job 5.  From one angle he describes the fool whose house was “suddenly…cursed” and whose children “are far from safety” (5:3-4) but from another angle describes how the Lord will protect the property and children of those who penitently accept his discipline. “You will know your tent is secure; you will take stock of your property and find nothing missing. You will know that your children are many, and your descendants like the grass of the earth” (5:24-25). Unmitigated gall!

Lesson: While the sufferer may talk about the tragedy and give any details that they may like–and we should listen to whatever they want to say about it, comforters never ever (1) interpret the meaning of the suffering, (2) compare past and present, (3) use language that opens up the wounds (“children”), or (4) make promises about the future.

Mistake Six.  Eliphaz projects a future for Job that is “rosy” and filled with blessing, healing and restoration. The condition of this future is Job’s repentance, but if he will repent, then God will give it all back tohim (5:18-26).  Eliphaz talks about the future with such certainty. I suspect he intends to build hope within Job.

Lesson: Don’t promise more than you know. “It will be okay; it will be for the best; everything will turn out alright”–and the almost infinite variations of those “nice” platitudes. We don’t know the future; we don’t know if it is for the best; we don’t know what good, if any, will arise out of the circumstances.

Mistake Seven.  The friends are so confident, so arrogant, so sure of their advice. “We have examined this,” Eliphaz says, “and it is true. So hear it and apply it to yourself” (5:27). Sufferers hate such egotistical, self-centered and self-promoting jibberish.

Lesson: Comforters need a strong sense of inadequacy, humility and powerlessness. Comforters cannot fix it.  They can only sit in it with the sufferer. They have no magic words, interpretations or explanations.

Job 6-7: Job Responds to Eliphaz

Is this how you react, Job asks, to a “despairing man”?  Whoever withholds “kindness” from a friend, according to Job, “forsake[s] the fear of the Almighty” (Job 6:14). Job did not give up the fear of God but Eliphaz did not practice it in how he has approached Job in his suffering.

Job’s response to Eliphaz comes in the form of (1) a lamenting monologue (6:1-3), (2) an engagement with the friends (6:14-30), and (3) a lament prayer to God (7:1-21). Job moves from expressions of despair to an invitation for the friends to supply some wisdom that might help (though from Eliphaz’s first attempt he does not expect much, they are like “dry streams”).  From the friends he turns to God and offers a startling, seemingly outrageous, lament.

The Monologue

How can I remain silent, Job asks?  Of course my words are “impetuous”–”my anguish…my misery” weighs more than the “sands of the seas” (Job 6:2-3).  Why should I have patience–from where does the hope arise that “that I should be patient” (Job 6:8)?  His patience is finished; he has none. “Therefore, I will not keep silent” (Job 7:11).

While Eliphaz told Job that “vexation (grief) kills the fool” (5:2), Job wants his “vexation” weighed so that everyone might understand his “rash” words (6:2-3). He must speak because words are all that are left him. He is neither made of “stone” or “bronze” that he would have “power” to help himself (6:12-13). He must speak because there is nothing else for him to do.

God has done this, and he wants God to finish it. The “arrows of the Almighty” have penetrated him (6:4). And his prayer is that God would “crush” him and “grant [his] desire” (6:8-9). Job simply wants his suffering over; he wants to die.

Job’s comfort is that he has not denied the words of the Almighty. He speaks out of anguish but his “joy in unrelenting pain” (Job 6:10; see my post on Job 7:16) is his refusal to curse God and his commitment to trust the One who seems, at the moment, so much like an enemy. While Eliphaz said that the righteous were never “cut off,” Job–using the same verb–says that he had never “cut off” (“denied” [NRSV]) the “words of the Holy One” (6:10).

Amazingly–indeed, absolutely stunning it is–Job knows where his joy lies. From the vantage point of the Prologue, Job has maintained his integrity. From where Job sits, he knows that he has continued to fear God and shun evil. His comfort is that he has not denied his faith.

Engagement with the Friends

“A despairing man,” Job announces, “should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty” (6:14).  Where’s their loyalty? Where is the compassion, the sympathy, the consolation? These friends are fair weather friends; they are like streams fed by “melting snow” in the Spring but are dry  beds “in the heat” of summer (6:16-17). Like an oasis that has dried up, Job’s friends are of “no help” (6:21). They treat Job like those who “cast lots for the fatherless;” they “barter” away his friendship (6:27). They make their deal with God to keep their own blessings and treat Job’s words like “wind” (6:28).

Job is willing to listen, though he may be a bit sarcastic here (6:24-26). Job will be silent if his friends will say something useful. Eliphaz’s descriptions of the plight of the wicked were insinuations that Job himself was one of them. Consequently, Job is willing to listen to any accusations or charges that the friends know. But he wants proof, not just accusations. Job complains that his friends had not really listened to him. His words were honest (or, sweet). They were the words of a person in great distress and despair. But Eliphaz had treated them as if they were nothing but hot air (“wind”). Eliphaz listened to Job’s lament in order to critique rather than suffer with him. Job gets no sympathy from Eliphaz.

Eliphaz’s callous response evokes an assessment of his heart by Job (6:27). Eliphaz is the kind of person who would gamble over fatherless children or barter away a friendship. Eliphaz is the sort of person who turns every situation to his own advantage. Rather than help a friend, Eliphaz becomes defensive of his own traditions and beliefs. Eliphaz’s rebuke is more concerned about his traditions and values than it is about Job’s troubles and spiritual health.

Job gets to the point (6:28-30). The kindness he expects from Eliphaz and his other friends is trust. Job simply wants his friends to believe him. Job is not a liar, and wants to be treated justly and compassionately. What is really at stake in this dialogue is not the traditions of the friends, but the integrity (literally, righteousness) of Job. God affirmed Job’s righteousness or integrity both before and after trouble enveloped him (1:1; 2:3). Job does not belong among the wicked. He is a righteous sufferer. He does not deceive nor does he speak evil. As the narrator commented after Job’s second trial, “In all this, Job did not sin in what he said” (2:10; cf. 42:7).

Lament

Job begins with a third-person lament, but then addresses God directly in 7:1-21.  Job simply wants rest; he wants relief like a slave working in the hot sun wants relief from the shadows of the day or a laborer wants their wages. Instead he has nights of “misery” (same word as in 3:10, 20). Job describes his misery here–sleepless nights, worms, and scabs, and this over “moths” (7:3).

The word that parallels “misery” in 7:3 has the meaning of vain, empty or false. It is the language of Psalm 89:47: “For what vanity have you created all the children of men!” Job describes his days as coming to an end “without hope.”

When he addresses  God, Job  is hopeless; he has no future. His “days have no meaning” (7:16). His lament is filled with frustration–why is God so intent on picking on him, testing him. “Why have you,” O God, “made me your target?” (7:20).  How can human beings be so significant to God that he would busy himself with meddling in their lives? Why does not God just forgive and be done with the lot? While Elphaz finds God’s revelation in dreams and visions (5:13), Job only finds terrors (7:14). Job hates life, wants to die, and probes the divine wisdom with “why” questions (7:20-21).

This lament is one of the most vivid and devastating found among Job’s speeches. What is humanity that God pays so much negative attention to them, Job asks (7:17)–practically a parody of Psalm 8. Is Job so dangerous to God that he must set a guard over him just as God must do with the Dragon or the chaotic Sea (7:12)? Is his “sin” so great, is he such a huge “burden,” that God must keep him alive (7:20-21)? What is God doing? Why is God doing this? How can humanity matter so much to God? What’s the point? Has Job’s life been such a problem to God that he decided to send this suffering upon him?

Job is miserable, hopeless, terrified and yet is still speaking to God. He does not curse but he does petition. He asks God to lift his hand and let him die.

The feelings, frustrations, and protests present in Job 7 are not uncommon for sufferers. We yearn for relief. We question the significance and meaning of our suffering. But faith continues to speak, even in the bitterness of soul and the anguish of spirit.

Job 8: Bildad Takes a Stab at Job

Whatever God does is just. God destroyed your life. Therefore, you deserved it.  That is a summary of Bildad’s response to Job’s harrowing lament and plea for wisdom as well as sympathy from his friends in Job 6-7. The hidden premise is that God only destroys the life of the wicked. Somebody, somewhere sinned.

With shocking pastoral insensitivity Bildad blames Job’s children for their own demise (8:4).

When your children sinned against him, he gave them over to the penalty of their sin.

Bildad applies the doctrine of retribution to Job’s children (8:2-7). As readers we know that the sins of the children had nothing–in terms of the Prologue–to do with their deaths. Even more Job had religiously sacrificed for their sins, but–in Bildad’s mind–to no effect. Bildad clearly sees the “justice” of God (8:3). It has to make sense to him; there must be a just, rational explanation for the death of children. That round peg has to fit into the square hole Bildad has been given it.

Bildad extends Eliphaz’s theme, the datum of his visionary experience (4:17).  Can a person be more righteous/pure than God?  God does not pervert righteousness/justice (8:3) and if Job will turn again to righteousness/purity, then God will make his ending better than his beginning (8:5).

Bildad, therefore, like Eliphaz before him, holds out some hope for Job.

If….if….if…you will do better, Job; if you will become more righteous; if you will repent; “if you will look to God and plead with the Almighty,” “if you are pure and upright,” then God, “even now,” will “restore you to your rightful place.” “Your beginnings,” Bildad promises, “will seem humble, so prosperous will your future be” (Job 8:5-7).  Job could possibly expect–if he repents–”laughter” and “joy” once again while the “tents of the wicked” disappear (Job 8:20-22).

Between the two exhortations to repent (8:5-7 and 8:20-22), our friendly theologian–based on the wisdom of the ages–points to the fragility of those who “forget God” (8:13). They are fragile because they trust in what is fragile. They wither and die like rootless plants or blow away like houses built by spiders. They have no hope (8:13).

Bildad’s closing “wisdom” is particularly problematic from Job’s standpoint.  According to Bildad, God does not “reject a blameless person or strengthen the hands of evildoers” (8:20). How ironic!  Job is “blameless”, at least according to the Prologue (1:1,8; 2:3), which uses the same Hebrew word. And it was God who put Job into the satan’s hands as well (1:12; 2:6). God, in fact, did strengthen the hands of the one who attacked Job.

So, there are two choices; there are only two scenarios in Bildad’s mind. Bildad confirms God’s quid pro quo arrangement with humanity and encourages Job to embrace the profit of righteous living. Life is about equity and fairness–God will treat us just as we deserve. If we sin, he will condemn us. If we are pure, he will bless us. It’s that simple, right?

Job does not think so.

Moreover, in the framework of this poetic drama, if Job follows Bildad’s wisdom, then the satan was right after all–human beings are only interested in profit. Job will repent to get back his life even when he thinks he is innocent.

But Job won’t do that.

Job 9-10: Dissing Bildad, Confronting God

Who can contend with God?  No one, Job answers (9:3). But the problem is that God is contending with (prosecuting) Job (10:2).

His response to Bildad is not direct. As I read him, he basically replies to Bildad’s first question.  It is enough to set Job on fire–”How long will you say such things? Your words are a blustering wind” (8:2).  Job’s response is….”I know, I know, how can I dispute with God? But I will dispute anyway; my soul must speak!”

Job’s “response” to Bildad’s speech (8:2-21) comes in two sections. In the first, Job addresses Bildad’s point about the correlation between righteousness and prosperity or between wickedness and loss (9:2-24). In the second section, Job confronts God (9:25-10:22). In the first section, Job recognizes that no one can “contend with him” (9:3), no one can be “in the right” with God (9:2; cf. 4:17; 8:3). In the second section, Job questions why God “contend[s] against him” (10:3). In the former, Job addresses his friends, but in the latter he addresses God directly.

God is Beyond Our Reckoning

Some don’t like to listen to such lamenting, confrontational speeches.  They think it is demeaning to God, undermines faith, or is an expression of arrogance. Does questioning God–asking him “why” or complaining about how he has decided to conduct the world–mean we no longer believe in God’s transcendence, power or sovereignty? It doesn’t for Job. He begins his response to Bildad with an extended rehearsal of divine sovereignty over creation (9:4-13). He confeses God’s wisdom and power (9:4). His language sounds very similar to what Yahweh himself will say to Job in chapters 38-41.

While some have seen a bit of satirical irony in this praise hymn (Gordis refers to as a hymn to the “King of Chaos”), I think we miss the point if we do not recognize that this same language is present in the Psalms. It is part of the liturgy of Israel. The God who removes mountains, shakes the earth and commands the sun is the God Israel worships. This not a subtle attack on God but a recognition that God is sovereign over chaos as well as order, and that God can bring chaos when he so chooses. The hymn reflects both order and chaos as God tramples the waves of the chaotic Sea (9:8) and arranges (orders) the constellations (9:9). The point is that God is beyond capturing; God cannot be boxed in, even with nice theological rules such as Bildad has imagined. God’s work is “beyond understanding” (9:10). God is active–he moves and passes by Job unseen–and no one can call him to account for his actions.  ”Who will say to him, ‘What are you doing’?” (Job 9:12).

Job, then, applies this to his own circumstance.  Twice he begins sections with “though I am innocent…” (NRSV; 9:15, 20-21)–even affirming his blamelessness (same word as in 1:1, 8, 2:3; 4:6; 8:20), only to recognize that God has crushed him (9:17) and destroyed him along with the wicked (9:22), even for no reason or without cause (same word as in Job 2:3).  God is responsible, despite his innocence and integrity, for his calamity…the “calamity of the innocent” (9:23).  God “destroys both the blameless and the wicked.” (9:22), and whatever befalls humanity–including disasters that bring death or the rule of wickedness in the world–is subject to God’s sovereign will.  ”If it is not he,” Job asks, “who is it?”

Job knows it is futile to argue with God (9:3, 14-15). But he must speak and declare his feelings (10:1). This is the tension of a lamenter. We know God is great but we still feel what we feel. To stuff our feelings will damage the soul, to numb our feelings denies what is real, and to escape our feelings is an illusion. We must speak!

We recognize that even if we were “blameless” (in the sense of integrity–as God declared Job to be in 1:1 and 2:3), we still do not have a case before God (9:19-20).  His power and justice overwhelm us (9:19) and we know we cannot stand in his presence on our own two feet. But attempting to justify God–from the perspective of lament–is futile since he “destroys the blameless and the wicked,” and “if it is not he, then who is it?” (9:22, 24). Surely God will always be right! Who can dispute that? God is in control and responsible for his world.  To deny that is to remove God from his sovereign perch as Creator.  God is the one with whom we must dispute. And we know we can’t win.

Who can know what God is doing?  No human being can. Who can fathom the work of God in creation? No one. But this does not mitigate the anguish and bitterness that fills the soul as the innocent and blameless experience the terrors of the Almighty.  Humanity can make no claim on God–God does not have to answer Job’s appeal for vindication. At most, humanity can only appeal for “mercy” (9:15, NRSV).

Nevertheless, I Will Say to God….

Nevertheless, Job appeals for vindication. He approaches God with a plea (even demand?), a prayer and a faint hope.

Hope or not, Job must speak.  Job could “forget [his] complaint” and “change my expression and smile,” but this would not change his feelings. He won’t fake rejoicing before the God who knows he is faking.  “I still dread,” Job says, “all my sufferings” (9:27-28).  Job will speak to God; he will not forget his complaint. He will question him….about why he “smile[s] on the schemes of the wicked”….why he “search[es] out my faults and probe[s] after my sin”…why he “oppress[es] me” (Job 10:3-6).

The lamenter will do both–recognize God’s power but complain about his use or neglect of it.

It doesn’t make any sense! Did not God create me?  Job asks. Did not God’s own “hands”–the hands that gave the accuser the power to destroy him in chapters 1-2–create Job (10:8)? Did not God tenderly knit Job together in the womb, give him life, show him kindness and watch over him in his providence (10:10-12)? Job’s hymnic praise in Job 10:8-12 is reminiscent of Psalm 139.

The God who cared for Job is the God who unleashed trying, if not hostile, powers against him. “Why then did you bring me out of the womb?” Job asks (10:18). Let me die, he pleads; let the misery end. He has not changed from Job 3–he still wonders why God keeps him alive.

And the misery is compounded by God’s own plan. Is this “what you concealed in your heart,” O God? “I know,” Job says, that this was in your mind” all along (10:15). You set me up! You showered me with blessings and then you took them away. What kind of trickery is this? It feels like God has betrayed us. We got sucker punched.

Consequently, Job simply wants his “comfort,” that is, he wants to die. Job has not changed his mind. But here he recognizes that death is not so much rest but “gloom,” “darkness,” and “chaos.” It is rest from the suffering, but it is also an entrance into nothingness, a place where there is no light (10:20-22).

You are powerful, God. You created me. You loved me. But I am suffering. You did it. This doesn’t make any sense.

Job does have a glimmer of hope, however.  Perhaps it is better to say it is a yearning, even a request, or a wish.  Maybe that is all it is.  He speaks (9:33-35):

If only there were someone to arbitrate between us, to lay his hand upon us both, someone to remove God’s rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more. Then I would speak up without fear of him, but as it now stands with me, I cannot.

Job needs someone who will give him the boldness to stand in God’s presence and speak his heart. He needs someone who will mediate, who will place a hand on both himself and God. What Job does not realize is that God is that person. God will come to Job in compasionate care and Job will no longer need to speak. Indeed, he will find comfort (Job 42:6).

Historically, Christians have seen Christological meaning in Job’s wish. Perhaps. Surely Job did not know and he probably does not intend some kind of reconciling mediator.  Rather, he wants someone to mediate the conversation; someone to guarentee fairness in the court of justice, someone to embolden him.

But as I meditate on this yearning, it is a wish, a hope, experienced in Jesus. It is not that Jesus removed the terrors of the Father, but that the Father and Son compassionately came near to us. The Father who loved us sent his Son, and this is how we know love. This is how we know the Father is for us because he gave his Son for our sakes. And thus we boldly go to the throne of grace rather than to the bar of justice.

Job knows it is hopeless to seek vindication from God–Job cannot coerce it from God’s hand, but nevertheless he seeks it, prays for it and ultimately hopes in it. Perhaps, maybe…indeed, by faith, Jesus is God’s response to Job’s  yearning–and ours as well.

Job 11: “God Has Given You Less Than You Deserve.”

Zophar is seething. He can’t stand it.  Does Job really think he can dispute with God? Zophar’s zeal for the righteousness of God demands that he “rebuke” this mocker.  “Will no one rebuke you,” Zophar retorts, “when you mock?” (11:3b).

Zophar’s speech may be divided into three sections:  (1) his rebuke of Job’s insolence (11:2-6), (2) his hymn on divine transcendence (11:7-12); and (3) his appeal to Job to repent (11:13-20). Again, a little theology is a dangerous thing in defending traditional understandings. Zophar’s theology of transcendence grounds his misdirected assault on Job.

Zophars hears Job’s lament as an assertion of Job’s own sinlessness. He puts words in Job’s mouth.  Job never claimed his “beliefs” were “flawless” or that he was “pure” in God’s sight (8:4).  But Zophar cannot hear Job’s dispute with God as anything other than unfaithfulness and anticipates that God will voice his displeasure if he ever does speak to Job. Zophar wants God to teach Job the “secrets of wisdom.”

It seems that “righteous” people tend to hear laments exactly as Zophar hears them.  In fact, many read Job’s words exactly as Zophar read them.  I think it is a dangerous thing to side with the friends against Job given God’s own response to the friends in chapter 42. Yet, we are so schooled to believe that honest, heart-felt, angry laments to God are so sinful that we can’t even hear Job’s righteous venting without condemning him in sympathy with Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar.

Unfortunately, Job’s condemnation is not sui generis.  Many laments are condemned for their harshness and “irreverence.” The spirit of Zophar yet lives in the hearts of the “righteous.”

This rejection of lament is rooted in a misapplication of divine transcendence. Zophar rightly asks, “Can you fathom the mysteries of God?” (11:7). Of course not! Job confesses divine mystery and transcendence–he already has done so in the dialogues and will in his response to Zophar. But for Zophar this means that the divine court will imprison Job rather than release him because this is what God does with “deceitful men” (11:10-12). It does not, seemingly, occur to Zophar that Job is honest and that his cry to the transcendent one is the call of a wounded victim. It is almost as if Zophar’s understanding of transcendence renders God unapproachable and many lamenters have been rebuked on that basis.

Yet, Zophar hopes for Job’s repentance: “if you devote your heart to him,” he pleads, “you will surely forget your trouble” (11:13a, 16a). Hope and security will return; darkness will become light; danger will turn into safety. And Job, Zophar promises, will no longer be afraid; his fear will dissipate–a motivation that was probably quite real to Job.  God will no longer terrify him (Job 11:13-19).  Repent, and everything will be just fine…the same promise that Eliphaz and Bildad offered. Indeed, that has been the theme of Job’s friends in this first round of the dialogue.

Job’s hope, according to the friends, is to renounce his own integrity and repent. If Job were to do so, this would give the accuser (“the satan” in chapte 1) the victory.  For, then, the accusation would certainly be correct–human beings only serve God for profit, for the “stuff.”  If Job is willing to deny his own integrity in order to get his “stuff” back, then he would serve God out of a profit motive rather than out of love. Unwittingly, Zophar asks Job to deny his faithful witness rather than uphold it.

Job 12-14: “You’re Kidding, Right?”

Perhaps a good word to describe Job’s reaction is….incredulous. Did Zophar just say what he did? “Did I hear him right?” Job might have thought.

Job cannot convince his own friends that the tables have been turned on him. While once he “called upon God and he answered” and “though righteous and blameless [integrity],” now he is a “laughingstock” to his “friends” (12:4). At the same time “the tents of marauders are undisturbed,” like those who stole his property and killed his servants (12:6). And it is God who has done this! Who “does no know that the hand of the Lord (Yahweh!) has done this?” (12:9).

The use of Yahweh in Job 12:9 is significant. It is the only time that the author puts the name on Job’s lips in the dialogues. It reminds the reader that Yahweh gives and Yahweh takes away as we are taken back to the Prologue.  Yahweh is responsible; life and breath are in his hands. The Job of the dialogue is in sync with the Prologue.

This is why Job must “dispute” with God, and the first half of his speech tells his friends that this is what he will do (12:2-13:19). Though he knows “wisdom and power” belong to God, though he knows “counsel and understanding are his” (12:13), though he knows God builds up and tears down whatever pleases him–and the series of divine actions in 12:14-25 are a testimony to God’s “wisdom and power,” Job cannot but dispute with the Almighty. He “desire[s] to speak to the Almighty and to argue [his] case with God” (13:3).

Instead of supporting him, the friends “smear [him] with lies” (13:4a). He would rather they just be silent–that would be true wisdom (13:5)! But they persist to defend God rather than empathize with their friend. They choose the seeming meaninglessness of God’s work over sitting with Job in his pain. They would rather lie and defend God than share Job’s suffering (13:6-12). Sound familiar to anyone? It does to me–it even reflects what goes on inside my own head at times.

So, why must Job speak? Why does he endanger himself with his honesty in addressing God? “Why do I put myself in jeopardy,” he asks, “and take my life in my hands?” (13:14).

This is the beauty of Job’s lament. On the one hand, he laments because he trusts God though he knows God may slay him. On the other hand, he laments because he experiences life as so totally unfair. This, I think, is the circumstance all faithful lament. It is honest about the seeming injustice of life’s tragic course, but it nevertheless trusts in the “wisdom and power” of God over that life.

Job speaks–he disputes, laments, complains–because “though he slay me, yet will I hope in him” (13:15 as the traditional reading says). Or, perhaps the better translation is, “he may slay me, I have no hope.” It is difficult to choose between the two. But nevertheless, Job will speak. And he speaks–he disputes, laments, complains–because “man is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble” (14:1). With the former, Job knows he will be vindicated (13:18b), but with the latter he recognizes that the grave and suffering are the human condition (14:5, 10). This is the origin of lament–trust and trouble. Lament is a faithful response to God; it is not the cry of the arrogant, but it is faith mourning. Job will pursue his lawsuit against God (13:20-14:22).

Job feels this same tension regarding sin. He does not claim perfection. He remembers the “sins of his youth” (13:26). He knows his “offenses” (14:16-17). But he does not understand why God prosecutes his own servant to this degree. Though he sins, he nevertheless trusts God and follows his steps. “Why,” then, “do you hide your face,” Job asks God, “and consider me your enemy?” (13:24). It seems that God has used every excuse–including his sin, even the sins of his youth–to imprison him and shackle his feet (13:27).

But this does not fit Job’s understanding of God; it does not fit what he would expect from his Creator.  This is not the God to whom Job prays. Therefore, he will await the day of “renewal” when God “will call and I will answer,” when God “will long for the creature [his] hands have made” (14:15). In that moment, God will “count [Job's] steps but” will “not keep track of [his] sin” (14:16). God will, Job believes, seal up his offenses “in a bag” and “cover over [his] sin.” If a person could live again, Job asks, then he would wait for his comfort (Job 14:14).

Ultimately, Job hopes in his God; he trusts in God’s grace and healing, even though he has no way of conceiving it. It seems impossible. In the midst of his lament it is difficult for him to see through the fog. On the trash heap, “he feels [only] the pain of his own body and mourns only for himself” because God has “overpower[ed] him” and “change[d] his countenance” (14:20,22).

This is lament, that is, trouble plus trust (hope) given voice. Sometimes the trouble overshadows the trust and sometimes the trust shines through the trouble. At this point it appears that the trouble is overshadowing Job’s hope though he rhetorically raises the impossible possibility. There must be more, but Job cannot see it at this point.

And, as Christian readers, we know there is more. We know a man did die to live again. We know him as Jesus. But until the final day when death is destroyed, we sometimes sit where Job sits and trouble overwhelms hope, even trust.

Friends who would comfort need to understand this. Let us listen to the voice without critique, judgment, or condemnation. Listen with mercy, compassion and sympathy, even empathy where possible.

God is listening–as the ending of Job confirms, and so should we.

Mark 1:29-39 — Heralding and Healing

The last line of this section describes the ministry of Jesus in Galilee:  “he went into the synagogues everywhere in Galilee, heralding and casting out demons.” I call this “practicing the kingdom of God.” That is, Jesus announces that the kingdom of God has drawn near and demonstrates its presence through redemptive acts.  This is the basic message of Jesus (1:14-15) and the substance of his ministry–the presence of the kingdom in a broken world.

The story in this section is evidently told from the point of view of Peter which is not surprising if the tradition is true that Mark’s Gospel is a record of Peter’s preaching.  The story about Peter’s mother-in-law never names Jesus but focuses on Peter’s circumstances. The line that the whole city appeared at the door of Peter’s house (1:30) has the ring of an eye-witness. And Peter leads the other disciples in the search for Jesus when he is missing in the morning (1:36).

Whether or not this is the case, the three stories (Peter’s mother-in-law, the healing ministry in Capernaum, and Jesus’ early morning adventure) are progressive in character. We begin with a simple healing at Peter’s house which then explodes into an evening healing service that the whole city attends. The healing in the home is incidental but it solidifies Peter’s relationship with Jesus. The crowd at the door flows from his exorcism at the synagogue as people flock to him to experience wholeness in the bodies and minds.  In the morning we find Jesus alone in prayer, and perhaps that is a response to the busied activity of the previous day. When Peter (and others) find him, Jesus states his intention to go to other villages in Galilee because he has come to herald the appearance of the kingdom.

This movement underscores the importance of the message of Jesus in his healings and exorcisms.  We could focus on the compassionate nature of Jesus’ healing/exorcist ministry as a model of care and love (and the Gospels sometimes do this). We could also focus on the authenticating function of his healing/exorcist ministry (and the Gospels sometimes do this as in Mark 2:1-12). But neither of these are the primary function of his healing/exorcist ministry. Rather, it is a demonstration of the message. The word about the kingdom is put into practice or, better, the kingdom of God is realized or actualized through these redemptive acts. They reverse the curse present in the world.  The kingdom of God redeems brokenness.

This is exactly how Peter characterizes the ministry of Jesus in Luke’s summary of his words to Cornelius in Acts 10:38, “he went about doing good and healing all who were under the tyranny of the Devil, because God was with him.”

But Jesus did not want the healing ministry or exorcised demons to distract from the message. Jesus was not a sensationalist. The message about the kingdom had priority and the healings/exorcisms bore witness to the presence of the kingdom.  The good news must be heard and the healings must be understood through that lens. They are no mere “feel-good” events or popularizing  strategies. They are redemptive acts tied to the kingdom of God. He doesn’t even want the demons to speak because what they would reveal (i.e., his Messianic status) would distract people from his message about the kingdom of God.

Mark accentuates Jesus’ alone time in this account. It follows a presumably long evening of healings and exorcisms that involved the “whole city.” The crowds pressed around him and even the next day they were still looking for him. Such attention–which has the allure of approval, vanity and human glory–becomes itself a temptation. Jesus sought out a deserted place in the early morning to focus on prayer. The word “deserted” (desolate, or desert) is  the same word as the term for “wilderness” used earlier–place where Jesus was tempted by Satan.  Jesus returns to his desert experience in order to gain strength for ministry, resist the temptations of popularity, and focus his ministry.  He emerges from that alone time with a renewed sense of his ministry–”let us go to other towns to heard” the kingdom rather than feed the ego by remaining in Capernaum. Jesus knows his purpose; he knows why he has come. He cannot simply stay in Capernaum.

As we follow Jesus, we, too, must remember why we  follow Jesus, that is, to herald and heal. We announce the presence of the kingdom of God and we demonstrate its presence through redemptive ministry. By this we practice the kingdom of God. We engage in healing and reconciling acts that reverse the curse in the world. We called to embody the kingdom of God now, in both word and deed.  The ministry of Jesus, which we follow, enact and embody, is both the heralding of good news and the enactment of that good news in the lives of people, in the brokenness of the world.

Job 15-21 — The Second Cycle of Speeches

[Given time constraints in class--we will also cover Ecclesiastes this semester--the second (Job 15-21) and third speech (Job 22-27) cycles are only allotted one class period each.  Hopefully, at some point in the future, I will have opportunity to expand my posts on the these two cycles. But for now...this is what I have time to write.]

The friends continue their accusations. Job’s frustration with his friend’s lack of sympathy increases. The friends built their case on divine transcendence and fair play. Job does not even speak to God in the second cycle of speeches and he questions their theology.

The friends have at least three recurring themes.

1.  Job has misspoken. Each of the friends begin their response to Job with allusion to his “words”; they are scandalized by how he speaks about God.  Eliphaz stresses that Job’s language testifies against him and generated by the evil in his heart (15:5-6; cf. 15:12-13). “How long,” Bildad asks, “will you hunt for words?” (18:2). Zophar appears the most restless–he rushes to answer “because of the agitation within me” (20:2). The term “agitation” literally means “hasty, rushed.” Zophar pounces on Job because he feels insulted by Job’s “censure” (20:3).

The friends perceive several problems, as I will indicate below.  But, at bottom, they don’t believe Job is honest. Job is not confessing the sin that the wisdom of the ages tells them must be present to explain his calamity. To them Job belongs in the category of “godless” (15:34; 18:21; 20:5) and “wicked” (15:20; 18:5; 20:5). Eliphaz is the most direct. He accuses Job of “doing away with the fear of God” (15:4) and questions “why does [his] heart carry [him] away…so that” Job’s “spirit” turns “against God” (15:12-13). Job’s words and spirit epitomizes the “wicked” who stretch “out their hands against God and bid defiance to the Almighty” (5:25).  For Bildad, Job “does not know God” (18:21). According to Zophar, Job shares the lot of the wicked, and the wicked are those who “have crushed and abandoned the poor” (20:19)–something Job adamantly denies in Job 31.

Job needs to repent, but, more importantly at this point, he needs to shut up and stop talking. Job needs to stop lamenting, complaining and contending with God. Anybody ever heard that advice before? I have.

2.  God is so transcendent that humanity is viewed as nothing.  Theologically, I think one of the key problems with the friends is that their understanding of divine transcendence guts human dignity. Eliphaz illustrates this–and this the second time that he has raised the point. Previously Eliphaz noted that God does not trust his angelic host much lest those who belong to the dust (4:17-19). Here he goes further. Most certainly, he denies, since “God puts no trust even in his holy ones…how much less one who is abominable and corrupt, one who drinks iniquity like water!” (15:15-16). If God will not trust his angelic host, he certainly will not trust Job who drinks sin like water.

It appears that the friends have no sense of the sort of trust God can place in human beings that the Prologue evidences. God trusted Job. God invested in human beings. He created them from the dust but he also crowned them with glory and honor; he gave them a vocation. He gave them meaning and significance. Eliphaz’s heightened sense of transcendence undermines that human dignity. Humanity matters to God; and human actions are important to God. He is not so “other” that God is disinterested in the other. Surely God is “wholly other” but God is also immanently invested in the creation, particularly human beings, and specifically–in this case–Job.

3.  The wicked are always punished. Each friend emphasizes this point in lengthy, detailed–almost hymnic–poetry. Eliphaz begins with the announcement that the “wicked writhe in pain all their days” (15:20-35); Bildad begins with the confidence that “the light of the wicked is put out” (18:5-21); and Zophar begins with the traditional wisdom that “the exulting of the wicked is short” (20:5-19).  Most of their speeches are a third-person praise of God for his judgment of the wicked and an indirect application of the destiny to Job.  Well, maybe it is not so indirect.

The friends use language that points to Job’s own circumstance. The effect is: “This is what happens to the wicked, and we all know this is what happened to Job.” According to Eliphaz, “the destroyer” comes upon them “in [their] prosperity” (15:21b), they “despair of returning from darkness” (15:22a), “distress and anguish terrify them (15:24a), and “their wealth will not endure” (15:29a).Bildad even talks about skin disease as part of calamity of the wicked (18:12-13) and, insensitivily–as he did before in 8:4–calls attention to the fact that the wicked “have no offspring or descendant among their people” (18:19). Zophar alludes to Job’s loss of property:  ”The possessions of their house will be carried away, dragged off in the day of God’s wrath” (20: 28). Job must be wicked because what happened to him happens to the wicked, right?

Job’s response to these points is fervent, painful and unyielding.

1.  Job must speak.  Job does not follow their advice. He continues to speak; he continues to complain about his circumstance and argue with the friend’s points. Their words are unhelpful, worse they are “empty nothings;” their “answers [are] but falsehood” (21:34). So, Job must speak since they will not speak for him or sit with him in his hurt. Job has every right to continue his complaint, and his complaint is not ultimately directed at the friends but to God (21:4).

But speaking does not alleviate the “pain”–it never leaves him (16:6).  He sits with his tears and his flesh is a sackcloth for mourning (16:25-16). His complaint goes unanswered. Instead, God continues to oppress him (16:7-14), even target him (16:12-13), and specifically God has given him “up to the ungodly” and cast him “into the hands of the wicked” (16:11). He has no community–no friends, no family, no relatives (19:14-19).  He shares the lot of the wicked even though his “prayer is pure” and “there is no violence on [his] hands” (16:17).

Job wants comfort or pity from his friends (cf. 19:21), but they do not have those resources within them. They are “miserable comforters” (16:2).

2.  If humanity is nothing, why is Job a target? Why does God pursue Job? Why does God keep up the pressure.  The litany in Job’s response to Bildad identifies the multiple ways in which God assaulted him (19:8-13) and pleads with the friends to recognize that “God has put me in the wrong and closed his net around me” (19:6).

Theologically, the question is why did God pursue this agenda and why does God continue it? How can Job be this important to God? Why is Job a “target” (16:12)? “Why” does God “pursue me, never satisfied with my flesh” (19:22)? For Job this is confusing, bewildering and disheartening. It sucks his life dry. He has no energy except to continue his lament. He has no other option.  The theological question is important but it has no answers.  If God is so transcendent and so beyond, why does God even bother (cf. 7:17-21)?

There must be some meaning or significance to this? Does Job suffer for no reason, for no purpose? That is the question of every sufferer whether voiced or not. And it is the question that few, if any, sufferers can ever answer.

3.  The wicked are not always punished; sometimes they die in peace and prosperity.  While there are hints in previous speeches, Job goes for the jugular on the central point of the friends in his response to Zophar (Job 21). Practically the whole speech is dedicated to the question “why do the wicked live on, reach old age, and grow mighty in power?” (21:7). It is a question many believers have asked, including Jeremiah (12:1) and the Psalmist (37 and 73). Job is not the first to notice this even though traditional wisdom seeks to rationalize it. Indeed, Job responds to one such rationalization: “their children will suffer if he does not.” But this makes no sense to Job as it is the wicked, not the children, who must suffer for their evil (21:19-22).

As far as Job can see, the wicked  ”spend their days in prosperity and in peace they go down to Sheol” (21:13).  Their homes are “safe from fear” and their children dance and rejoice (21:8-9, 11). There appears no rhyme or reason to the prosperity or the loss the wicked or righteous experience.  One lives in prosperity and dies in peace and another dies in the bitterness of soul (like Job?), but they both end up as dust (21:23-26). What’s the point? What is the meaning of this?

Whatever it may mean, the simplistic traditional wisdom of the friends does not pass the test of experience. They cannot lean on this point because it simply is not true since “the wicked are spared in the day of calamity and are rescued in the day of wrath” (21:30). What supposedly was Job’s lot because of his wickedness (divine wrath expressed in calamity, cf. 18:12; 20:28) does not happen to the wicked!

Nevertheless, Job maintains his ground.

1.  His prayer is pure and his ethics are authentic. Job continues to maintain his innocence–his prayer is pure (16:17). In one of the most poignant texts in the dialogues, Job expresses his commitment to God. Even though the wicked are safe and prosperous, he will not side with the wicked. The wicked, according to Job, say to God “Leave us alone! We do not desire to know your ways!” (21:14). In fact, they question the “profit” in serving God. “What profit do we get if we pray to him?” (21:15). In this moment the wicked echo the question of the satan in 1:9–doesn’t everyone, even Job, serve God for profit?

Job’s answer is a statements of Job’s integrity and dedication to God.  Will Job join the wicked in their mocking now? Will he join their chorus? No, he will not.  He answers (21:16): “But their prosperity is not in their own hands, so I stand aloof from the counsel of the wicked” (NIV). Interestingly, the language of “stand aloof” or “far from me” (ESV) or “repugnant to me” (NRSV) has been used by Job previously.  God, he says, had put his brothers “far from me” (19:13) and asked God to withdraw his hand “far from me.”

Though Job wants God to let him die (withdraw his hand), Job does not buy into the wisdom (counsel or designs) of the wicked. Job remains committed to God even though he laments his circumstance and has no explanation for his troubles.

2.  He knows his Redeemer, his witness, lives. Twice in this cycle Job alludes to some sort of resolution, some kind of hope. In both contexts he uses oath language, the language of a courtroom or a lawsuit (16:18; 19:23). He wants his trouble noted and his complaint registered. Job wants, as we all want, to be heard; to know that God is listening. Job wants to understand. Job wants his case heard. Job wants vindication.  He “pours out tears to God” in the hope that God “would maintain the right of a mortal with God, as one does for a neighbor” (16:21).

Job, however, recognizes that he has a “witness in heaven” (16:19) and a “redeemer” (19:25). Both express a wishful hope, perhaps a shaky confidence, that Job does not voice his complaint for nothing. God does have a response, and Job has a redeemer and a witness. Job has someone who will stand with him and stand up for him.

Reading canonically, perhaps we can see some Christological allusions here, but within the context of the narrative this person seems to be God.  Ultimately, Job believes (hopes against hope) that God will hear him, speak with him, and vindicate him.

Knowing the end of the book, we know that Job’s hopes are realized. And that is our hope as well.

Job 22-27 — Third Cycle of Speeches

It is not a complete cycle.  Eliphaz’s speech is shorter than his previous two (Job 22), Bildad’s speech is the shortest in the whole dialogue (Job 25), and Zophar does not even speak. The friends are clearly exasperated and Job, too, is done with them. One might say they are no longer “friends.”

The Friends on Divine Transcendence and Human Value

The common theme of the two speeches by the friends is the chasm between the divine and human. But it is not the chasm to which Job objects and the narrator rejects. Everyone agrees God is transcendent–God’s power is great (Almighty is God’s name), his wisdom or understanding is beyond human comprehension, and his activity in the world is comprehensive and pervasive. But what does this mean in how God regards humanity?

For the friends, it appears as if God is practically disinterested in humanity. Wisdom functions more as an impersonal principle rather than as God’s active engagement. God, according to Eliphaz, has little use for humanity. Listen to his opening lines (NRSV) in Job 23:2-3.

Can a mortal be of se to God? Can even the wisest be of service to him? Is it any pleasure to the Almighty if you are righteous or is it gain to him if you make your ways blameless?

Eliphaz’s rhetorical questions assume the answer is “No!,” but the Prologue screams “Yes!” God does care. God delights in the righteousness of Job and God gains a cosmic witness with Job’s blamelessness (integrity). Eliphaz’s disinterested God is not the God of the Prologue.

Bildad returns to the same theme (25:3): “How then can a mortal be righteous before God? How can one born of woman be pure?” The answer is found in the Prologue:  Job is righteous! Of course, neither the Prologue nor Job himself mean that a human being can be absolutely righteous or pure before God, but it is possible–indeed, part of the function of the book itself–for a person to authentically trust God and turn away from evil. And that person, in this book, is Job.

What we hear in the friends is a practical devaluation of creation and particularly humanity. Their sense of transcendence and their defense of God has left us with a disinterested God.

Job, however, is convinced that God is interested even though God is transcendent and Almighty (see his hymn of praise in 26:6-14). His bitter complaint (23:2) is that God has not yet shown up to hear his case, but he is nevertheless confident that “an upright person” can get a hearing from God and a fair judgment (23:7). At the same time, Job lives with terror–terrorized by God’s power, potential presence and the prosecution (23:13-17). Job is caught in the tension of lament–the tension between the distress of his situation and his appeal for God’s fairness; the tension between trouble and trust.

At the heart of this is Job’s sense of his own self and God is interested in it. Job confesses that God “knows the way that I take” and “when he has tested me, I shall come out like gold” (23:10). Job knows his own heart and life–he has not turned aside from the way of God and he has treasured God’s words more than his bread (Job 23:11-12). Job hopes for vindication because he knows his own commitment to God. God is interested and values Job’s faith.

Job’s Sins and the Wicked

Eliphaz finally gets specific, that is, specifically accusing Job of particular sins. Up to this point it has been a backhanded accusation.  The wicked do “X,” and are thus punished.  Job has been punished, so–implicit and not specifically stated–Job must have done “X” as well.  But now Eliphaz offers a list of sins in which Job is complicit and assures Job that “there is no end to [his] iniquities” (22:5).

According to Eliphaz, Job “exacted pledges” from family members, “stripped the naked of their clothing,” gave “no water to the weary,” withheld bread from the hungry,” “sent widows away empty-handed,” and he “crushed” the “arms of the orphans” (22:6-9). “Therefore,” Eliphaz says, “sudden terror overwhelms you” (22:10).

At the same time, Eliphaz once again, as he has each time, offers Job the hope of repentance.  ”If…If…”  ”If you return to the Almighty,” he assures him, “you will be restored” (22:23). Then when “you pray” to God, “he will hear you” (22:26). After all, Eliphaz knows, God “saves the humble” (22:29), so Job must humble himself in repentance. But in that there is hope and assurance.

But Job does not accept Eliphaz’s premise. Job has not “departed from the commandment” of God’s lips (23:12). Further, Job questions whether the wicked are always punished. “Why are times not kept by the Almighty and who do those who know him never see his days?” (24:1). In other words, when is this judgment going to come upon the wicked? Their evil is unceasing, and Job details their evil. God does not deal with the wicked. Instead, it appears that “God prolongs the life of the mighty by his power…and gives them security” (24:22-23). The evidence is so clear that Job demands that if it is not so that he be proved wrong (24:25).

Job’s characterization of the wicked is a thorough portrayal of human sin. They remove landmarks, steal from widows, terrorize the poor, “take as a pledge the infant of the poor,” murder the innocent and filled with adultery (Job 24:2-17). Job protests the evil and at the same time affirms the “way” he takes–he is not one of these wicked (which is apparent from Job 31). Job knows who he is, he knows his ethical life, and he knows his commitment. He is not one of the wicked–this is clear to Job and, through the eyes of the Prologue, it is clear to the reader.

Job’s Testimony

Bildad only offers a short response (5 verses) and  Zophar does not answer at all; his frustration has driven him to silence. In this third cycle the friends have given up on Job; he is beyond recovery.

In the place of Zophar’s silence, Job offers one last speech in the dialogue (Job 27). It functions as a closing statement for the dialogue. We might hear it as the culmination of Job’s own rising tension between trouble and trust, his final lament in the dialogue before his friends.

It begins with an oath of innocence (27:2-6), moves to an oath against his enemies and opponents (22:7-12), and ends with a hymnic confession that ultimately the wicked will experience the judgment of God (27:13-23).

The oath of innocence is sworn on the reality of the living God but at the same time charges God with removing his just rights and embittered his soul (27:2). Job recognizes God as the ground of all life and also recognizes his responsibility for his trouble. He swears his innocence. In particular, he does not speak any falsehood or deceit (27:4), maintains his integrity (27:5), and hangs on to his righteousness (27:6). Job has no regrets concerning his faith and commitment to an ethical life, God’s “way.” One could read this as a self-righteous vindication, but it could also be the truth. Job has been honest about his feelings, integrity is at the core of his life and response to his trouble (as Yahweh acknowledged in the Prologue), and his ethics have never been questioned by Yahweh or the narrator. This is the plea of an innocent person, an innocent sufferer–and that is a critical point for understanding the plot of the drama in the book of Job.

The oath against his opponents is not directed toward God or the satan. His opponents are his friends; his friends have become his enemies. Job–no doubt to the utter contempt of the friends–gives them over to the category of the “godless” in whom God takes no delight and doubts that God will hear their prayers (27:7-12). Rather, they should listen to Job. “I will teach you,” Job says, “concerning the hand of God” (27:11). And, as Job taught us earlier, everything is in the “hand of Yahweh” (12:9). Is this arrogant? Actually, Yahweh confirms it.  Job, according to the Epilogue, said what was right about God and the friends did not (42:7).

Job confesses the destiny of the wicked (27:13-23). Even though he does not see the evidence of it at the moment; indeed, he sees some contrary evidence. Nevertheless, he confesses–by faith–that God will deal with the wicked according to their sins. “Terrors will overtake them,” Job confesses (27:20).  While Job questions why the wicked continue to prosper in the present, he believes that “the portion of the wicked” is judgment (27:13).

Job is innocent. The friends are wrong. The wicked will ultimately be punished. This is where the dialogue ends.  Where do we go from here?  The narrator, as a pause in the structure of the drama, offers a poem on wisdom to which we will turn next (Job 28).

Mark 1:40-45 — “Lepers Healed, the Kingdom of God is Here”

Lepers were outsiders. They were not only excluded from normal social interaction but they were excluded from the assembly of God.  The disease did not elicit sympathy but revulsion and exclusion.  They were unclean, contagious, and judged.

The kingdom of God reverses this situation. Lepers are healed, included, and redeemed. It is evidence that the kingdom of God has arrived, and this is the message and ministry of Jesus.

The term λεπρòς (lepros) refers to a dreaded skin disease. It does not have the specific meaning of “leprosy” that the English term denotes. Rather, this could be a skin disease that could disappear after a time and then one would go to the priests for cleansing according to Levitical rituals (just as Jesus tells this leper to do). Nevertheless, Levitical rules were applied to such skin problems and the appearance of skin problems fostered fear.

This early encounter with a leper in the Gospel of Mark functions as a testimony to the presence of the kingdom of God in the ministry of Jesus.  The leper initiates this contact–Jesus is not seeking a circus-like healing crusade. The leper expresses confidence, even faith, in Jesus’ ability to heal. He kneels before Jesus and begs him to heal.

Jesus’ response is compassionate.  Most translations note this compassion, but some early manuscripts (the Western tradition for those who know something of textual criticism) read that Jesus was “angry” rather than compassionate. Anger is certainly the more difficult reading and, therefore, the more probable. Why would a scribe substitute “compassion” with “anger”? But it is easy to imagine that a scribe might replace “anger” with “compassion.” Elsewhere Mark notes the anger of Jesus (Mark 3:5), and probably does here. I prefer the reading “anger.”

Whether compassionate or angry, the point is important.  Jesus does heal out of compassion, but also there is a place for righteous indignation at what a disease does to a person. Who is not angry at Alzheimer when they see destroy the life of their beloved? Who is not angry about the devastating effects of AIDS in Africa and around the world? This anger motivates–it is a sense of justice and goodness that wants, as N. T. Wright says, “puts things to right.” This sort of anger is appropriate for kingdom people as we participate in the mission of God to “put things to right.”

Whether out of compassion or anger, Jesus comes to reverse the curse, to reverse the effects of disease and isolation caused by leprosy. But at this point Jesus does not need any more publicity. Large crowds distract him from his purpose and deter his ministry of preaching and healing. He tells the leper to remain silent about his healing except to show himself to the priest as a grateful testimony, a thanksgiving for his healing. The priestly cleansing would enable the leper to once again join the assembly of God at the temple and synagogue.

Is this reverse psychology on the part of Jesus? The healed leper immediately “heralds” (same word used of Jesus’ preaching) the news (“the word,” literally).  But I think Jesus is more interested in his ministry than he is publicity; in conducting the business of his messianic task rather than touting his messianic status. He wants to move among the cities of Galilee freely. Instead, he has to find refuge in the “desolate places” or “deserted places.” This is the same word as in Mark 1:12 and 1:35. Jesus has to seek solace in uninhabited regions in order to pursue his ministry but his fame will not ever give him this rest.

Jesus places a premium on “heralding,” “healing,” and “desert.” He is not interested in fame, healing crusades, or great honors. Jesus prioritizes task over status. Perhaps that is something we should all hear in our multi-media culture that places a premium on one’s “fifteen minutes of fame.”

Job 28 — A Wisdom Poem

Job 28 appears at the end of the dramatic dialogue as the calm following the storm. It is a peaceful, reflective wisdom teaching on the search for wisdom. It sticks out like a sore thumb between the dialogue (3-27) and monologue (29:1-42:6) sections of Job. Or, is it a frustrated, anguished cry that wisdom is so unavailable to human beings?

Its placement and ambiguous tone create a problem. Is Job 28 spoken by Job or is it an interlude (pause) inserted by author/narrator? Is it a continuation of Job’s speech in 27 or is it the narrator’s theological comment?

On the one hand, the text indicates no break between Job’s speech in chapter 27 and this chapteras it does between Job’s last response to the friends in Job 26 and the oath of innocence in chapter 27 (cf. 27:1).  The narrator gives no indication that the speakers have shifted. All editorial indicators are that the text is a continuation of Job’s final speech of the dialogue.  On the other hand, the seeming calm tone of Job 28 appears out of place for one who has been engaged in a strident dialogue with the friends.  There are no allusions to the friends and no internal turmoil appears in the poem as it does in the dialogue (unless this appears in 28:12, 20). Further, the oath theme of chapter 27 is nowhere found in chapter 28. Also, it makes sense of the structure of Job to this wisdom poem as a divider between the dialogues (3-27) and the monologues (29-42). It is like an “intermission” in the dramatic story.

Ultimately, we cannot determine which is intended by the final editor/author with any absolute confidence. I can see it both ways. But it appears to me that Job 28 is most likely the narrator’s theological reflection on the struggle to find wisdom (but I am not confident of this). It is a pause that serves as a hinge between the dialogue and monologue sections of the book. In any event, whether the theology is on the lips of Job or from the narrator, this chapter has tremendous hermeneutical significance.

The poem comments on the futility of the human search for wisdom and raises the question of what is the place or location (maqom) of wisdom. Where is wisdom/understanding found?

The structure of poem is three stophes:  (1) Job 28:1-11; (2) Job 28:12-19; (3) Job 28:20-28. The repition found in verses 12 and 20–”from where does wisdom come?/where is the place (maqom) of understanding”–is a structural indicator that identifies the beginning of new sections.

The first section (28:1-11), on one level, recounts the human capacity to dig deep within the earth in order to mine precious minerals and stones. Humans probe more deeply than the rest of creation (reflective of their capacities and role in the cosmos) and bring “hidden things to light” (28:11).  At a deeper level, Bartholomew and O’Dowd suggest that the poem functions more profoundly as a metaphor (Old Testament Wisdom Literature, pp. 172-176). The miners are the friends who dig deep into the depths of their own resources of wisdom but come up empty. Miners retrieve gold and silver, but the friend’s search for wisdom has not been so successful. There is an ironic twist in the description–miners know where the gold is but humans,with their own resources, don’t know where wisdom is.

The second section (28:12-19) clarifies the irony of the first.  Humans “do not know the way to” wisdom and understanding (28:13). Humanity has its limits when it comes to wisdom. It cannot be secured like gold or silver though it is more valuable than either. “The price of wisdom  is above pearls” (28:18).

The third section (28:20-28) identifies the way to wisdom. It is rooted in God who knows its place (maqom). It is hidden from humanity, even in the depths of death and destruction (28:22). Humanity cannot find the way of wisdom; humans as finite creatures are limited epistemologically.. Only God knows for only God “sees everything” on earth and under the heavens (28:24).  The wisdom of God created the cosmos, established its boundaries, and searched out its resources. The Creator God identifies the location (maqom) of wisdom.  God says to humanity:

Behold, the fear of the Lord (‘adonai), that is wisdom,/and to turn from evil is understanding.

The central questions of 20:12 and 20:20 are answered in the final climatic line of the poem in 28:28. Where does wisdom come from? It comes through fearing God. Where is understanding located? It is found in turning away from evil. Job 28:28 describes a wise person.

Significantly, this describes Job himself as he appears in the Prologue. Job is thrice described as one who fears God and turns away from evil (1:1, 8; 2:3). Job is a wise person.

Could Job have uttered this poem? Yes, I think so (but not necessarily so). Job is a wise person who knows the way he takes before God and is committed to it (Job 23:10-12). He understands that wisdom is not a matter of human ingenuity but a divine gift. Job has already voiced many of the sentiments of this poem (cf. Job 12:12; 26:14). As the dialogue comes to an end, Job returns to his roots, that is, he returns to where the narrative/drama began–the fear of God and turning away from evil. After all the investigation, debate and argument, Job’s conclusion (if it is Job rather than the narrator) reflects what he has known from the beginning–the fear of God is wisdom. Job could have said this as part of his final speech in the dialogue.

Does the narrator intend us to see this poem as a hinge between the dialogues and monologue? Yes, I think so. It links the Prologue and Epilogue, as Job is God’s servant and speaks what is “right” about God. It vibrates with the wisdom Job has already expressed in the dialogue and will find climatic expression in the Yahweh speeches. Job 28:28 is the theological heart of the whole poetic drama. This is wisdom and not the rational and/or traditional wisdom of the ages or sages. It points to the epistemological and sapiential limits of human thought and life, but it also points to where humanity may embrace authentic wisdom.

The poem highlights the futility of the human search for wisdom on its own terms, but at the same time embraces the embodiment of wisdom in a pious, obedient life. Neither the friends nor Job can discover the wisdom of God’s actions in the suffering of Job, but Job can embrace the trusting piety that embodies wisdom.

We sit where Job sits–we cannot know but nevertheless we trust.  We cannot figure out or search out what God is doing, but we know trust (faith or fear) is true wisdom.

Job 29-31 — Job’s Monologue

Whatever the nature of the pause in Job 28, the narrator resumes Job’s voice in Job 29-31. This is Job’s final speech (“the words of Job are ended,” 31:40). It divides into three sections: (1) Job remembers the past (Job 29), (2) Job protests the present, and (3) Job swears out a writ (Job 31). Job reminisces fondly, protests loudly, and demands that God hand down an indictment.

This is a stunning monologue. The movement from past scenes of joy and friendship with God to the present horror of seeming divine abandonment is gut-wrenching. Then the movement from mourning and weeping (30:31) to oaths of self-imprecation that seek divine vindication is equally hair-raising.

Fond Memories (Job 29)

Job longs for the past, the “months of old, as in the days when God watched” over him (29:2). Those where the days when….   Job begins sentences in 29:3, 5, 6, & 7 with the Hebrew preposition that is translated “when.”  In those days and months:

• Job walked in darkness by God’s light
• God’s friendship was with him
• His children still surrounded him when the Almighty was with him
• His steps were washed with milk (i.e., prosperity)
• He was seated at the city gate
• Young and old respected him
• Nobles and Princes were silent in his presence

The language retells the prologue in some ways. It includes Job’s renown, his children, his prosperity, and his friendship with God.  He stresses how others waited for and received his counsel (29:21-25). They remained silent as they waited for Job to speak. They honored him as a chief among them, “like a king among his troops.”

And Job remembers that he feared God and shunned evil as well (1:1, 8; 2:3). Job remembers that he was “commended” and “approved” by those who heard and saw his life (29:11), and he states the rational:  ”because I delivered the poor…” (29:12). This approval, I think, even includes God because Job was dedicated to a way of living that embodied the fear of God.

What kind of life is that, according to Job? The wise person cares for the poor, orphan and widow (29:12-13). This is “doing right” (righteousness and justice) and Job wore it like a garment (29:14). He aided the lame, blind, needy and stranger. Job’s life was oriented toward justice and he opposed the unrighteous so that they would “drop their prey from their teeth” (29:17). This is wisdom ethics, and Job lived it. So, Job lived with the hope of rest and long life (29:18-20).

Significantly, the last word of this fond remembrance is the word “comfort.” What the friends failed to do as “miserable comforters” (16:2) Job provided to mourners (29:25). What Job provided to others is what he now seeks from God.

Present Protest (Job 30)

“But now…..”  Those words alert us to a shift in Job’s voice. Three times Job calls attention to the contrast (30:1, 9, 16) with wa’attah (“but now” or “and now”). The present stands in strong contrast with the past.

The first section (30:1-8) laments the lack of respect Job receives even from the children of those who deserve no respect.  ”Job has exchanged the respect of the most respectable,” Anderson writes (Job [Tyndale series], p. 235), “for the contempt of the most contemptible.” The second section(30:9-15) describes their contempt and Job’s own crumbled reality as his “prosperity has passed away as a cloud” (30:15). Job, according to the NRSV/ESV rendering, attributes this to divine action–”God has loosed my bowstring and humbled me.” [God is actually supplied; it is not in the Hebrew text. However, it is an appropriate rendering since the move from plural to singular is best understood as a reference to God.]

The third section is the most harrowing of all (30:16-16-31). It moves from talking about God in the third person (30:16-19) to directly addressing God (30:20-23). The language is vivid and stark. Job has experienced violence at God’s hand and has become as “dust and ashes” before him. Job cries and God does not answer. “You have turned cruel to me,” Job protests; “with the might of your hand you persecute me” (30:21).

Job accuses God. He knows God has done this to him and he expects God to ultimately bring him to death (30:23). These accusations remind me of the recent BBC movie “The Trial of God.” It is the story of Auschwitz inmates who put God on trial. The movie surveys multiple theodic responses to their suffering. The final speech is a protest, and it is a protest that God is not good (Trial of God–the Final Speech). Yet, when the guards come to collect them for the gas chambers, the Rabbi who gave the climatic speech counsels that they pray. There is no other possible response. Job protests but he prays–his prayer is a protest but his protest is also a prayer.

Job laments that even though he “grieved for the poor” and helped the needy in their disasters when he “looked for good, evil came” (30:26). Instead of light, he received darkness…and he continues to sit in that darkness, in a “sunless gloom” (30:28). He cries for help but he is treated as a jackal and an ostrich. He can do nothing more than weep and mourn. Now, at the present, this is his life, and this is his protest.

Job’s Testimony (Job 31)

So, what changed? God was friendly to Job when he was righteous, but now God attacks Job. What changed? Job does not think he has changed; he is still committed to righteousness.

This raises one of the significant questions of the drama.  Job voices it in 31:3:  ”Is not calamity for the unrighteous, and disaster for the workers of iniquity?” Calamity is what has befallen Job (30:13) and what the wicked deserve (30:12). God knows Job (31:4) and Job knows what God expects in terms of righteousness (31:2). So, why does innocent, righteous Job suffer what belongs to the unrighteous? If the unrighteous suffer, why does righteous Job suffer?

Job swears an oath concerning his righteousness. He takes an oath of self-imprecation, that is, he curses himself if he has violated God’s righteousness. Most of the chapter assumes an “if…then” form.  If, Job says, I have been unethical, then I deserve punishment; then I deserve the calamity I have experienced.

This form provides the author of Job a wonderful opportunity to catalog wisdom ethics. It is ethics based upon creation theology rather than upon the Torah. It is Yahwehist ethics in the mouth of Edomite wisdom–a wisdom derived from the fear of God within creation and wise living as a human being within God’s good creation. He covers such topics as:

• lust (31:1)
• honesty (31:5)
• adultery (31:9)
• justice (31:13)
• care for the poor (31:16-21)
• attitude toward wealth (31:24-25)
• love of enemies (31:29-31)
• secret sin (31:33)
• ecology (31:38-39)

Given space and time, it would be important to pause over each of these ethical values to hear the wisdom in each. Indeed, each finds its place in traditional wisdom ethics as well as covenantal (Torah) ethics.

What is significant for Job, however, is that he knows what is right and he claims to have lived his life in compliance with God’s values. He fears God and shuns evil, just as God said he did (1:8; 2:3).

The climax of this chapter comes in 31:35-37. Job interrupts his self-imprecations in order to voice his desire. What Job really wants is a divine indictment; he wants to know what he did wrong. He wants to know why God has not done this to him, and if God is going to prosecute him, he wants the bill of indictment.

His oath is his testimony–he has signed it (placed an “X”  [literally, taw--the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet] at the end the document). It is his plea (“Oh” in 31:35 which is how he began the monologue in 29:2). Job has given an honest account, and he now placers it before God. He wants to be heard and he is confident that his life has been an ethical one.

And so end the words of Job (31:40b). They end with a sworn oath that pleads for a divine hearing. Job, like all of us, wants to be heard. Now he will sit and wait for God to answer…or will God answer? And what kind of answer will he give?

Marl 2:1-12 — The Son of Man Forgives Sins

This story is the first of five where Jesus enconters conflict. Jesus becomes controversial in the eyes of some, particularly the religious leaders. Jesus forgives sin, eats with sinners, defies the traditions about fasting, and heals on the sabbath. Jesus does not conform to the traditons of the elders and he assumes a role in the community that disturbs devout leaders.  Though still widly popular, opposition begins to emerge.

The healing of the paralytic dropped through a newly made hole in the roof of Peter’s house at Capernaum has long captured the imagination of believers.  The earliest pictorial representation of Jesus (ca. 235 CE) was found in a fresco on the wall of a baptismal chamber in the house-church of Dura Europos (located in modern Syria). The fresco depicts the healing of the paralytic. Jesus appears at the top center and is pronouncing the punch line of the Marcan story:  “that you may know tht the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgiven sins, rise up, take up your bed and walk” (2:10-11). On the right the man is lying on his bed, and on the left the man is walking away with his portable cot. Significantly, this fresco is located in the baptismal room where believers were baptized for the remission of their sins. It is a symbol of redemption–forgiveness and healing. This illustrates how the early church understood the central point of the story.

The key line in the story is “the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” (2:10). This statment is some powerful language:  “Son of Man,” “authority,” and forgiveness.  “Son of Man” is title that only Jesus uses in the Gospel of Man and it is his favorite self-description. It does not refer primarily to his humanity. Rather, the title projects an eschatological role where authority and power belong to the one who reigns from the throne of God. If not a divine title, it is at least an exalted one where the peson who is the  Son of Man is worshipped, honored and obeyed by all creation and all the nations upon the earth (cf. Daniel 7:13-14). It is his role as Son of Man that authorizes him to forgive sin, a divine prerogative.

When Jesus absolves the paralytic of his sins, the “teachers of the law” are horrified. Inwardly–probably fearful of public  reaction–they accuse him of blasphemy as only God can forgive sins.  The teachers understand that Jesus is making a claim in this statement. He is asserting some kind of relationship between God and himself that authorizes him to forgive sin. This is, in the minds of the teachers, presumptive and blasphemous. It arrogates to himself a divine function.

The healing of the paralytic authenticates and verifies the blessing Jesus gave to the diseased man. Why Jesus decided to forgive his sins when he apparently came for healing is not stated. Perhaps Jesus saw some conection between his illness and his sin. Perhaps sin is the more fundamental problem. Perhaps it was to provoke controversy. Or perhaps Jesus wanted to use his healing in order to highlight “the word” he was heralding.  The healing demonstrates the presence of the Son of Man and so does the blessing, “Your sins are forgiven.”  Forgiveness and healing are linked, in the ministry of Jesus, to the presence of the kingdom of God. This is the message, the good news, of Jesus (Mark 1:14-15).

Jesus did not bless the paralytic with forgiveness until he saw “their faith” (2:5). The faith of the paralytic’s friends brought hm to Jesus, and, it seems, “their faith” includes the faith of the paralytic as well. Through faith, he is first forgiven, then healed. Both are important and both arise out of the authority of the Son of Man. It is kingdom authority. “Repent and believe the good news,” Jesus was preaching. “The kingdom of God has drawn near.”

When the kingdom of God shows up, people are amazed. They see in the presence, acts and words of Jesus something new–a new work of God in the world. They see the kingdom of God. The Son of Man hearlds good news and he implements the good news through forgiveness and healing.

As we read this story, it is possible to see ourselves in different ways. Who are we in this story? Are we followers of Jesus who bring good news to the sick and unforgiven? Or are we in the crowd–people filled with wonder, amazement and worship in response to the acts of Jesus?  Or are we the friends who help bring others to Jesus? Or are we paralytics in need of healing and forgiveness? Or are we the teachers who question, doubt, and opposes the good news in action?

We read this Gospel to discover ourselves. We do not read it simply to get the facts, but to participate in the story. Discovering where we are in the story illumates the story of our own lives. It will shape our identity if we immerse ourselves in it.

Mark 2:13-22 — The Kingdom of God as a New Way of Living in the World

By the seashore and at the table, Jesus continues his teaching ministry. This story begins beside the Sea of Galilee among the crowds—which seems to be a regular habit on the part of Jesus (“again,” Mark writes)—but ends at a table filled with “tax collectors and sinners.”

And Jesus does not teach with words alone. He demonstrates the kingdom of God by not only teaching the crowds but also eating with sinners. Jesus’ table exhibits a new way of living—new wineskins for new wine.

Sometimes the first story is separated from the second (fasting). The headings in our translations tend to separate them as well. But the controversy over fasting takes place in conjunction with the banquet scene.  The contrast between banqueting and fasting is important for understanding the text.

New wineskins (or, new garments) represent the newness of Jesus’ ministry, which is the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. The parable puts into words the previous deed of Jesus—his reclining at table with sinners. The parable illuminates the deed, and the deed illuminates the parable.

Jesus took the initiative. He found Levi, a tax-agent or collector; part of a despised, wealthy, and exploitive social class in Palestine. He invited Levi to join his group, a different sort of group—to embrace the kingdom of God. The other disciples must have been aghast, perhaps even horrified—especially the fishermen whose taxes Levi often collected (we presume). Yet, Levi followed him. This is the second “calling” story in the Gospel of Mark, the first called Peter, Andrew, James and John in chapter one.

Immediately Jesus is described as part of a festive celebration, reclining at the table with Levi’s friends and with his disciples. It is important to notice that the disciples participated—they must have come to terms with the kingdom nature of the ministry of Jesus, at least in this respect. Levi had been invited to participate in the kingdom of God—he was celebrating. Joy is the appropriate response; his friends are the appropriate co-celebrants. They are his circle of friends—“tax collectors and “sinners.” And they are attracted to Jesus rather than “put off” as many are today by the behavior and attitudes of Christians.  Something about Jesus enabled them to feel comfortable in his presence.

But others were there as well, watching the celebration. They were shocked by Jesus’ presence at this gathering. These are the very people who, in view of the scribes and Pharisees, are excluded not only from the kingdom of God, but excluded from social interaction with the righteous. They are the outsiders. The Pharisees are separatists—they separate themselves from the unclean and impure. They isolate their righteousness so that they enjoy table only with the righteous.

Jesus’ response values a total reversal of the Pharisaic attitude. He seeks the sick rather than the healthy; he seeks sinners rather than those who think themselves righteous. Instead of separation, Jesus sits at table with “sinners.” Instead of prideful isolation, Jesus seeks relationships with “sinners.” Instead of distant condemnation, he sits with “sinners” to invite them into the kingdom of God. This invitation is a call to repentance, to a new way of living—a new life.

New life is possible because someone new has arrived. The Bridegroom is here; the Messiah and his kingdom have arrived. It is a new garment. It is new wine for new wineskins. It is a new era. The old is passing away, and everything is becoming new.

The Pharisees recognized the newness, and they objected. “The old is better,” as the proverb goes. The Pharisees rigorously pursued fasting—twice a week even. This, in fact, was an expression of their separatism from the unclean (“sinners”). They yearned for the Messianic age that had not yet come, and they grieved their present status as a conquered and still exiled nation.

But Jesus’ disciples don’t fast. They feast! Oh, they will fast when the Bridegroom is taken from them, but while he is with them they will feast at the great banquet Levi has thrown. They will eat while the Bridegroom is with them (and he is with them at the table in the post-resurrection community!).

The new is better than the old. But the new is not simply a matter of eating rather than fasting. Rather, the message is about what that contrast represents. To eat is to sit with sinners and invite them into the kingdom of God. To fast, in his context, is to separate oneself from sinners and condemn them to their own depravity. To fast is to mourn and wait for the kingdom of God. To feast is to experience the present reality of the kingdom of God.

New wineskins are not minor adjustments to ritual (e.g., no more fasting), but it is to embrace the kingdom of God in the present. It is a new way of living.

New wineskins are not about praise teams, responsive readings, drama in the assembly or even new methods of “doing church.” It is not about the latest fad in order to be “new,” “current” or “relevant.” Rather, it is life transformation—a new way of relating to people, embracing “sinners,” living in reconciling ways, and dismantling the barriers that divide.

To use new wineskins or to put on a new garment is to act in ways that demonstrate the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. Jesus did it at table with sinners. We “do it’ in our own context.

We demonstrate it when we seek out friendships and show hospitality to the “others” (as Luke calls them in Luke 5) in our culture—the poor, gays and lesbians, the Arab, the illegal alien, the disabled, etc. We demonstrate it when we sit at table with the “others” and invite them into the kingdom of God. But the invitation rings hollow when it is shouted at a distance, with a shrill voice filled with hatred and condemnation. It only rings true when we are at the table with them.

We are followers of Jesus. We followed him into the water, we have followed him into the wilderness, and now we must follow him to a table with “others.” Disciples of Jesus cannot do otherwise. But, remember, it also the path to suffering—to being mocked, scorned, excluded…it is the way of the cross.

Job 32-37 — Elihu Confronts Job

Elihu, whose name means “he is my God,” appears from nowhere. He is neither named among the friends who come to comfort Job in the Prologue nor nor among the friends in the Epilogue whom God rebukes. He only appears here in Job 32-37.

This has generated considerable speculation. Some, perhaps the majority of contemporary scholarship, think the Elihu speeches were added by a later (or final?) editor who was dissatisfied with the Yahweh speeches and the coherence of the book as it appeared at the time.  In this view Elihu is either a defender of orthodoxy or a shrewd commentator on the previous dialogue that neither sides with the friends nor Job. The interpolator “corrects” the version of Job that had come down to him through tradition.

However, there is nothing compelling about this scenario. There is no textual tradition that supports this conclusion. On the contrary, structurally, the three monologues in Job 29-42 (Job, Elihu and Yahweh) parallel the three dialogue cycles in Job 3-27. But the key question is theological and rhetorical, that is, what is the function of Elihu’s monologue in the present form?

Does Elihu side with the friends by reiterating some of their arguments? In other words, does he agree with the friends but thinks they did not do a very good job in refuting Job? Viewed in this way, Elihu is another protagonist; he responds to Job’s monologue just as the friends–who have now given up as indicated by Zophar’s silence in the last cycle of the dialogue–had previously responded to Job.

Or, does Elihu attempt to arbitrate between Job and God? In other words, he prepares us for the Yahweh speeches while at the same time he rebukes Job for his overreaching arrogance and self-righteousness. Elihu, then, appears more as a mediator than a protagonist even though he does confront Job regarding his excesses.

Or, is it some mixture of the two? In general, it seems to me that what Elihu says about Job is inaccurate or misapplied, but what Elihu says about God prepares us to hear the Yahweh speeches. In this light, Elihu’s four speeches may read in the following way:

• First Speech (32-33): Job is self-righteous and God disciplines such.
• Second Speech (34): Job deserved suffering and God is just.
• Third Speech (35): Job is wicked and God is transcendent.
• Fourth Speech (36-37): Job must listen and God is active.

So, why is Elihu absent from the Prologue and the Epilogue? Of course, one explanation is that the Elihu speeches were added after the Prologue and Epilogue or another is that Elihu’s words are sanctioned by the narrator/editor.  But it is also possible that something more subtle is at work in the rhetoric. Elihu is introduced by the narrator in Job 32 as a young man who thinks he can do better than the traditional and aged wisdom of the friends. He even denies that wisdom is associated with age and years (experience; 32:9). His youth is underscored and youth usually thinks it can do better. And, in fact, he does worse  in some ways (as I hope to demonstrate below). His youthful intrusion into the discussion among his elders is itself arrogant and angry (noted four times in the narrator’s introduction of Elihu in Job 32). In this way he sides with the friends as he wants to improve their arguments rather than contravene them. When God condemns the words of the friends–naming Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar–in the Epilogue that condemnation includes Elihu.

At the same time, his last speech–as well as occasional flashes in the other speeches–soars high in its account of God’s relation to creation. In this sense, Elihu moves the drama toward the Yahweh speeches. But Elihu’s speeches are flawed in the way they treat Job.

It is Elihu who is self-righteous. As Bartholomew and O’Dowd (Old Testament Wisdom Literature, 143) note, “Where God and the narrator declare Job ‘upright’ (yoser), Elihu claims to speak from an ‘upright’ heart (Job 33:3) and claims that God could send an angel (perhaps Elihu?) to teach Job what is ‘upright’ (Job 33:23) so that Job might in turn repent and confess that he perverted what was ‘upright’ (Job 33:27).” In essence, Elihu denies Job the very commendation that Yahweh gave Job in the Prologue. Elihu, like the friends, thinks Job is a sinner and has been disciplined for his wickedness. The condemnation of the friends, then, is also the condemnation of Elihu.

What does Elihu say?

First Speech (32:6-33:33).

Elihu is confounded by the silence of the friends after Job’s monologue (32:15) and he cannot sit idly by while God is defamed by Job. So, he must answer (32:17) or else he will burst like new wineskins (32:19). And he will tell it straight without flattery and without deference to their age. After this introduction, Elihu addresses Job directly (33:1-33). The Spirit of God, he claims, moves him to speak and he will do so out of the uprightness and sincerity of his heart (33:3-4).

Elihu gets to his point by quoting Job in 33:9-11. He summarizes Job’s protestations of innocence (cf. 9:21; 10:7,13; 13:24,27; 16:17; 19:11; 23:10; 27:5; 30:21). But the quotations are not exact. Elihu uses a word for “pure” or “clean” that only appears here in the Hebrew Bible. Further, Elihu absolutizes Job’s words, e.g., “without transgression” and “there is no iniquity in me.” Though Job did view God’s attack as an expression of hostility, Job never intimated that God invented sins (“occasions”) in order to assault him. Elihu denies Job’s innocence, but this is the substance of the Prologue.

Elihu believes, contrary to Job’s perception of divine silence, that God is actually speaking to Job in the circumstances of his suffering. Elihu contends that God is speaking through Job’s nightmares (33:15-18) and through the pain Job endures (33:19-22). And now, it seems, God is speaking to Job through Elihu, a messenger (angel) of God (33:23). Elihu will mediate God’s grace to Job. If Job repents and prays to God, then God will refresh him and repay Job for his conversion (33:26-28). According to Elihu, God is using this suffering in order to move Job to repentance (33:29-30). Job must confess his sin (33:27). This, Elihu assures Job, is wisdom (33:33). This is the same message that Job heard from his three friends in the dialogue and significantly parallels Eliphaz’s first speech in Job 4-5.

Second Speech (34:1-37).

Now Elihu addresses the friends (“wise men,” 34:2) and speaks of Job in the third person (cf. 34:5). He talks to the friends about Job in front of Job, which appears to me as rather insensitive. His imprudence is indicated by his second misquotation of Job (34:5-6; cf. 9:15, 20; 13:18; 16:8; 27:2, 6). He quotes him as saying he is “without transgression” (34:6). And he accuses Job of walking with the wicked and sharing the company of evildoers (34:8). He proves this by quoting Job again in 34:9:  ”For he has said, ‘It profits me nothing to take delight in God’.”

But this is the opposite of what Job actually said in 21:15-16 (cf. 9:22; 21:7; 24:1). Job quotes the wicked as saying that there is no profit in serving God, and he explicitly rejects that orientation. Elihu’s approach entails that the satan was correct–Job only serves God for profit and now has cursed God when God failed him. Elihu has manipulated Job’s words.

Yet, on the basis of this misapplication of Job’s words, Elihu appeals to the friends (the verb in “hear” in 34:10 is plural) to judge Job. God does only what is just and repays the wicked for their deeds. The point, it seems, is that the friends should see what happened to Job as a just judgment.

In 34:16, Elihu turns attention to Job (“hear” is now singular). He condemns the way Job has approached God. Job has no right to speak to God as he has. It is Job who is unjust and Job’s accusations against God are a case of the pot calling the kettle black (34:17-20).

Elihu clearly considers Job one with the “evildoers” (34:22), burdened with “wickedness” (34:26), and sharing the life of the “godless” who afflict the poor (34:28-30). And he appeals–in the second person singular (“you, Job”; 34:30-34)–to Job to repent, to choose submission. Job’s arrogance is beyond measure, and Elihu wishes that he “were tried to the limit” (34:36) though it is difficult to imagine what more Job would need to endure in order to fulfill Elihu’s wish-prayer.

Third Speech (35:1-16).

Elihu now rehearses the same argument based on divine transcendence that Eliphaz and Bildad employed. In attempting to apply the meaning of the chasm between God and humanity, Elihu–like the friends–undermines the dignity of humanity. What is God to humanity? Nothing, according to Elihu.  But actually humanity is highly valued by God and worth his attention, as the Prologue indicates (cf. Psalm 8).

This high view of transcendence, however, means that God will not hear Job, according to Elihu. He again quotes Job in 35:2, “You say, ‘I am in the right before God’.” On this ground, Job expects God to listen and hopes for vindication. Elihu regards this as the height of arrogance. If oppressed humanity cries out and God does not answer, why should Job expect God to answer him (35:9-15)? Elihu concludes that Job speaks “words without knowledge,” but the ignorance Elihu perceives is Job’s mistaken notion that God would actually listen to Job’s arrogant cries for relief.

Fourth Speech (36:1-37:24).

Strikingly, Elihu claims integrity (“perfect in knowledge.” 36:4), and he uses the same word that describes Job in the Prologue (“blameless;” 1:1, 8; 2:3, 9). Who do we believe? Whose integrity is in tact?

Elihu assures us that God “does not keep the wicked alive” and “does not withdraw his eyes from the righteous” (36:6-7). When the righteous are afflicted because of their sins, God will “complete their days in prosperity” if they will listen, repent and serve God (36:9, 11). And if they do not listen, then they will die with the wicked (36:12). Elihu is responding to Job’s question about the prosperity of the wicked (36:17-23) and he assures Job that they will be punished, even dying in their youth (36:13-14), but God wants something better for Job if only Job will repent (36:15-16).

It is at this point that Elihu prepares us for the Yahweh speeches. As he speaks of the transcendence and mystery of God within the world–who can prescribe the way for God? (36:23)–Elihu anticipates Yahweh’s own accounting of his transcendence. “Surely God is great, and we do not know him” (36:26). He even anticipates Yahweh’s questioning of Job. “Do you know…” (37:15-16)?

Elihu grounds the greatness of God in God’s presence in the creation.  From 36:27 to 37:13 Elihu offers a doxological poem on God’s activity within creation. God sends rain on the wastelands and his voice thunders over the land. All creation “accomplish[es] all that he commands” (37:12). Moreover, God is active for a purpose–”for correction, or for his land, or for love” (37:13). God is at work within the creation to accomplish his purposes.

What does this mean for Job? Elihu will not leave Job with any doubts (37:14-24).  ”Hear this, O Job,” Elihu announces. Given God’s sovereign work within the creation, “mortals fear him” but “he does not regard any who are wise in their own conceit” (literally, “heart”; 37:24).  Job, did you hear it?

According to Elihu, Job is conceited and arrogant. Job does not fear God. God will not listen to Job. God will not answer Job because God does not listen to the pleas of the wicked.  Only if Job would repent, then God would answer him.

Elihu was probably more surprised than anyone when God showed up and answered Job.

Mark 2:23-3:6 — Son of Man, Sabbath and Opposition

Though Jesus was a popular teacher and healer at the end of Mark 1, opposition to his ministry emerges throughout Mark 2 and culminates in plans to kill him in Mark 3:6. Mark 2:1-3:6 contains five “controversy” stories which highlight this emerging opposition.

Jesus forgives sin (thereby committing blasphemy). Jesus eats with sinners (and thus defiles himself). Jesus feasts rather than fast (contrary to the traditions of the elders). Jesus works on the Sabbath (violating the traditions). Jesus heals on the Sabbath (violating the traditions). In each case Jesus crosses boundaries that mark him as an agent of change. The change, of course, is the inbreaking of the kingdom of God.

The final two stories, both centered on the Sabbath, occur in Mark 2:23-3:6. In the first the disciples harvest a crop and prepare a meal. In the second Jesus heals. Both were regarded, by the traditions of the time, as violations of the Sabbath. They were forms of “work.” Later Rabbinic traditions verify such attitudes. And n the first century, contemporary with Jesus, the Qumran community explicitly denied people the option to heal on the Sabbath or help an animal out of a ditch. One could not even draw water from a cistern on the Sabbath at Qumran or eat anything that was not already “in the camp.”

This practice is called “fencing the law.” While the Torah, for example, does not explicitly say one cannot heal on the sabbath or draw water from a cistern, these regulations are put in place in order to distance a person from breaking the law.  One does not want to get too close to the line for fear of violating the holy command. Thus, traditions accumulate. Jesus and his disciples violated a couple of those traditions by harvesting and healing on the Sabbath.

Jesus responds on both occasions. Because he is the Son of Man–the eschatological figure that brings the reign of God into the world–he is also Lord of the Sabbath, and Jesus identifies what is most important about the Sabbath. His responses employ a general principle–mercy.

In the first instance, Jesus uses an example from the Hebrew Bible to defend the actions of his disciples. He recalls how David and his companions once “entered the house of God” and “ate the bread of Presence, which is not lawful for any but priests to eat.” David did this because he was hungry and needy. Sharing the forbidden bread was an act of mercy.

In the second instance, Jesus asked a simple question, “Is it lawful to do good, or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to kill?” To “do good” is a Hebraic expression for benevolence or mercy, for charitable acts. With this question, Jesus argues that it always lawful to do good, that is, to show mercy….even if it is on the Sabbath.

Jesus grounds this principle of mercy in relation to the Sabbath with a broad hermeneutical principle:  ”The Sabbath was made for humanity, and not humanity for the Sabbath.” The Sabbath was a good thing; it was divinely instituted. It served an important and vital function within Israel. However, it was not an end in itself, but a means to an end. The Sabbath served humanity, and it must not be used to obstruct what is good for humanity.

God’s commanded rituals (as, for example, the Sabbath) are intended to serve humanity.  They do not rule humanity nor should they ever be used to subvert God’s goal for humanity. Consequently, mercy will always take precedence. Matthew called attention to this in his version of the story–if people truly understood Hosea 6:6 (“I desire mercy and not sacrifice”), then they would not use the Sabbath (or any rituals) in such an obstructionist manner (Matthew 12:1-8). God’s heart lies with mercy rather than sacrifice.

This explains Jesus’ anger. When he asked the question about whether it was lawful to do good on the Sabbath, the Pharisees were silent. To Jesus it was obvious, but the Pharisees were caught in the dilemma of their own traditions and understanding of the law. Jesus was angered by their insensitivity to the Torah’s mercy. Moreover, he grieved their hardness of heart, that is, their inability to see the world through God’s merciful eyes. They could only see the world through their rules.

The Pharisees also responded with anger. They been to conspire with the Herodians to kill Jesus. Herodians were not an official party or sect like the Pharisees, but a loose-knit alliance that supported the Herodian family’s rule of Galilee.  Herod Antipas ruled Galilee at this time. Herodians opposed messianic figures and revolutionaries as they supported the Roman power that backed Herod. Consequently, opposition to Jesus made strange bedfellows. Devout oppressed Pharisees joined forces with politically empowered Herodians to kill Jesus.

On the one hand, the religious establishment opposed Jesus because he was a threat to their pious practices. On the other hand, the political establishment opposed Jesus because he was a threat to royal stability. Either way, opposition to Jesus has emerged.

The kingdom of God had broken into the world in the ministry of Jesus. The religious establishment opposed it and the political establishment opposed it. Not much has changed. Practicing the kingdom of God is scandalous.

Job 38-39 — The First Yahweh Speech

Job had no illusions that if God spoke that he somehow would be able to escape the misery of his present life. He expected death–he did not understand why God prolonged his suffering. But he wanted a word from God even if it was a word of condemnation. Job simply wants to know something even if it is not what he wants to hear. He wants to know the charges against him (10:2; 13:23). He wants to understand the seeming moral chaos of the universe where the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer (21:7-26; 24:1-12). If God charges the wicked with evil and judges them, “why must those who know him look in vain for such days?” (24:1). Job challenges God, “Let the Almighty answer me” (31:35). Will God speak? Will he explain?

No doubt to the shock and surprise of all the participants, God does speak. He comes to Job out of the whirlwind  or storm (38:1; 40:6). This is not necessarily an expression of anger as Elijah was taken up to God in such a storm (2 Kings 2:1,11). Here it identifies God’s presence in a theophany, a wind that bears the word of God. God is no longer silent, but does he answer? He speaks, but does he explain? That God speaks is one surprise, and what God  says is yet another.

How does God view Job? Does he regard him as a boisterous, self-righteous sinner who must be crushed by God’s power (like a harsh judge) or does he regard him as an ignorant sufferer whose misery has pushed him to the brink of rivalry with God though he has not crossed the line of cursing God or abandoning God (like a wise sage)? I think he sees Job in the latter perspective. God confronts Job, but in mercy and grace rather than in wrath or anger; I don’t see any indications of anger on God’s part in the speech.. He confronts him with tough questions out of tough love, but Job is also God’s servant and God graciously appears to him. Nevertheless, Job pressed the limits of his knowledge; he spoke “words without knowledge” (38:2). God’s responds through poetic imagination that confronts Job with the reality of creation.

This first speech (38:1-40:2) is a series of questions about God’s role as transcendent creator in contrast to Job’s finitude and ignorance. Job had spoken about things he did not know, so God questions him about his role in the universe. “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” (38:4). God poses question after question, all reflecting his role as the creator and sovereign Lord of the cosmos. And with question after he question he prods Job to reflect on his own limitations. “Tell me, if you know all this” (38:18). The questions force Job to admit his own ignorance and remember his finite role in the cosmos.

But these questions also point to God’s wisdom and care. They are not simply questions about power. The questions are not arbitrary; they move from God’s creative work when he laid the foundations of the world (38:4-7) and controlled the chaotic waters (38:8-11) to his transcendence over the chaos of the wicked and death (38:12-21), control over the waters (snow, rain, rivers) of the earth (38:22-30, 34-38), and his regulation of the stars and seasons (38:31-33). This is God’s creative wisdom. Yahweh asks, “Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?” (38:37).

The questions then move to the animal kingdom and God’s management of his living creation (perhaps reminding Israel of how God paraded the animals before Adam in the Garden). Indeed, the animals are all wild ones, except the war horse (though this horse behaves differently than domesticated ones). The questions are not just about knowledge but about care. God asks if Job “knows” (e.g., 39:1), but he also asks whether Job can manage this creation and care for it the way God does. Does Job hunt for the lion (38:39), feed the young ravens (38:41), give the wild donkey his home (39:6), use the wild ox in his service (39:9-12), care for the ostrich even though she has no sense (39:12-18), and give the horse his strength (39:19). Again, this is about God’s creative wisdom. God asks, “Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom” (39:26)?

Through his power God manages his creation with wisdom and care. Chaos is no threat to God and God is sovereign over the whole. The creation is good; it operates well. It is ordered. But God’s creation is not the playground of his power but the nursery of his care. The creation is God’s biosphere in which he delights. The world is not out of control, God is managing it quite nicely.

Ecologically, this speech subverts an anthropocentric understanding of nature. God cares and enjoys animals that have a distant relation to humanity. There is no mention of how these animals serve or relate to human beings in the speech. They have lives of their own and are valued by God. Human beings are the center of the creation.

But how do these speeches answer Job’s questions? In one sense they do not. They do not address the particulars of Job’s situation. God does not tell Job about the heavenly council described in the prologue. The speeches do not address the issue of distributive justice and moral balance. God does not explain why the wicked prosper while Job suffers. The speeches do not address Job’s specific questions about suffering and justice. Rather, they address something more fundamental. They address the critical issue that was raised in the prologue and assumed throughout the dialogues: trust in God’s management of the world. Do we believe God is wisely managing his creation? This is what Job doubted though he never cursed God, and this is what gave rise to the questions and accusations of his laments. This is where Job is challenged. Job has does not have the power, wisdom or knowledge to challenge God’s management of the universe.

When evil surrounds us and chaos fills our life, then we begin to doubt God’s sovereignty (is God really in control?) or we doubt his goodness (does God really care?). We wonder whether God knows what he is doing or whether he can do anything at all. This occasions lament. We believe in God, just like Job, but the chaos of our lives creates doubt, despair and disappointment. So, we, like Job, complain, question, and accuse.

Nevertheless, God’s response to Job does address his sense of abandonment. Has God forgotten Job? That God speaks at all answers that question with a resounding, “No!” But we can say more. Earlier Job considered himself “a brother of jackals, and a companion of ostriches” (30:29; cf. Psalm 102:6). God responds by talking about the “wild ass,” the “wild ox,” “mountain goats,” and the ostrich. God provides and cares for them, even as they live in isolated places. God provides food for the lion, gives strength to newborn animals, looses the wild ass for freedom, and the wild ox serves God’s purposes. These are all wild animals; the live in the wilderness, among the seeming chaos. They are not abandoned by God and neither is Job. As Fretheim notes, “If all the wild animals of the wilderness are embraced by God’s care and nurture, then so also is Job embraced in his disconnectedness from friends and family” (God and World in the Old Testament, p. 245).

At the same time, God does challenge Job. There is a sense in which one might think God approaches Job as a disciplinary parent, but perhaps–with Fretheim (p. 240-44) it is more appropriate to think of God’s address as the epitome of wisdom. God approaches Job as the wise sage that the friends were not. While Job appropriately questioned God in lament, Job’s knowledge and wisdom was much too limited to challenge God’s management of the world or to find fault with God’s creative work (Job 40:2). Job is challenged to think more deeply and to recognize his limits even though there are hints that God does not tell Job anything new (cf. the hymn of Job 26:7-14).

Job’s response is humble submission (40:4-5). Job silences himself and recognizes his limitations. Structurally, however, Yahweh has another speech and Job’s response to it is more profound. Perhaps this first response silences Job but it does not move him to where he ends up in 42:6. Perhaps Job thinks he has made his case and Yahweh has made his–there is nothing more to say. We can probably make too much of that, but it seems appropriate to see movement in Job’s responses however slight it might be. There is, then, something climactic about the second Yahweh speech and Job’s response. It will address something that this first speech does not.

For the moment, however, God’s answer in this first speech is: I am in control, I care and I know what I am doing. The creation is functioning just fine. Can you trust me? If I controlled chaotic waters in creation, can I not manage the chaos of your life? If my care feeds the lions and the ravens, will I not care for you? If I have not abandoned the wild animals in the wilderness, will I abandon you? God’s answer is his transcendence, but it is not a naked transcendence. It is not a sheer assertion of power. Rather, it a loving, caring transcendence which manages the chaos of the world for benevolent purposes. The question now is whether Job will trust God’s management of the creation.

Job 40-41 — Yahweh’s Second Speech

Why a second speech? One might think that one speech from Yahweh would be enough.

Perhaps it is a literary device.  The two speeches may reflect the two council scenes in the Prologue–a “prologue” (1:1-5) heads the two council scenes and an “epilogue” (42:7ff)  follows the two Yahweh speeches.

That may be true, but it seems like something more is afoot. There appears to be movement from the first to the second speech as there is certainly movement from Job’s first response (40:4-5) to his second response (42:2-6). However we may interpret Job’s second response (repentance? comfort? rejection?), it provides some “resolution;” it is a climatic ending.

The second speech, then, provides the context in which the Yahweh-Job dialogue finds its “resolution.” There is something new, something climatic, about this speech. Consequently, the question is what does this speech offer that was not present in the first speech so that it moves beyond it in some sense.

The first speech surveys a well-ordered creation that exhibits divine wisdom and care (Job 38-39). God is active within the creation setting the boundaries of chaos (seas) and feeding the wild animals. The creation is functional and fruitful.

However, the first speech focuses on two animals, the Behemoth and Leviathan. Of the two, the Leviathan gets the most attention (34 verses of Job 41 vs. only 9 verses for the Behemoth in chapter 40). Unlike the first speech, this discussion is prefaced by a lengthy introduction. This introduction functions as a hermeneutical key for reading the rest of the speech, and the Leviathan section serves as the highlight (it is the most lengthy treatment of any of God’s creatures in all the Yahweh speeches)–the climatic point of the Yahweh speeches.  The speech may be outlined in this fashion.

• God challenges Job (40:7; parallel to 38:3)
• Introduction:  the Wicked (40:8-14)
• Land Animal: the Behemoth (40:15-24)
• Water Animal:  the Leviathan (41:1-34)

Each section grows in length, and each provides a context for the next.  What would Job with the wicked? What would Job do with the Behemoth? What, then, would Job do with the Leviathan? Job is powerless before them all. But God is not.

First Section (40:8-14)

The topic is no loner simply management of the creation or how God has ordered the cosmos. Now the topic is about justice; it is about the problem of evil.

Will Job put God in the “wrong” (misphat; justice) so that Job might be in the “right” (zadaq; righteousness)? Job had accused God of denying him justice (misphat; Job 27:2) and had claimed his own “rightness” (zadaq; Job 9:20). Yahweh questions whether Job’s rightness and divine justice are incongruent. Can Job discern this mystery? Can Job figure out how God’s justice and Job’s righteousness work in the circumstance of his own experience of chaos and suffering?

In particular, Yahweh is concerned with the question of the prosperity of the wicked. Job has raised this question on several occasions (cf. 21:7-16; 24:1-12; “there is no justice” [misphat] in 19:7).  Yahweh’s challenge is to question Job about what he will do with the wicked. Would Job pour out his wrath on the proud? Would Job trample the wicked where they stand? How would Job handle the wicked? Decked out in his own glory and splendor, can Job solve the problem of justice and equity in the world? If Job has a solution, God wants to hear it.

Yahweh’s response to his rhetorical questions cannot be overestimated (41:14).  Yahweh will acknowledge (yada; know) Job if his own “hand” can save him from the wicked. The use of the word “hand” is important as it recalls the prologue and the significant Yahweh confession by Job in 12:9.  The “hand” of Yahweh released the chaotic powers upon Job, both the moral acts by human agents and natural disasters. Job acknowledged that it was the “hand” of Yahweh that did it and reigns in the cosmos.

Whose “hand” can control the wicked? Whose “hand” can best deal with evil in the world?Whose “hand” is sovereign over the chaos in the world? Is it Job’s “hand” or is it Yahweh’s?

Yahweh’s exhibits A & B, the Behemoth and Leviathan, are evidence that only Yahweh’s hand can control evil; only Yahweh is sovereign over the chaos in the world.

Behemoth (40:15-24)

Behemoth (a transliteration of Hebrew word) is the plural of the normal word for “beast, animal.” But the plural here is majestic in character, that is, it the “beast of beasts.” Indeed, it is the “first of the great acts of God” (40:19). It is the beast par excellence–incomparable to other beasts or land animals.

Yet, the description of this beast is very different from Yahweh’s depictions in Job 39. There are no mythic or hyperbolic embellishments of the wild animals in Job 39 but they abound here for both the Behemoth and the Leviathan. Further, Job 39 utilizes the normal names of the animals, but these two natures are not “normal” zoological descriptions. These are no mere description of another animal–if it is, then it does not amount to much more than what chapter thirty-nine did. Something more is going on here, especially regarding Yahweh’s relation to evil (the wicked).

Many identify the Behemoth with the hippopotamus just as they identify the Leviathan with the crocodile. There are some reasons to do this as the descriptions do seem rooted in those two animals to some degree. However, neither description fits a mere naturalistic understanding of these animals. Rather, the descriptions have mythic proportions.

Both the hippopotamus and crocodile appear in Egyptian mythology. There the evil Lord Seth is associated with both in mythic stories as Seth battles Horus. Seth is the god of chaos. In addition, Ugarit Canaanite myths may form something of the background here as well. In those myths Mot, the god of death, battles Baal. Many of the descriptions of the Behemoth correspond with language describing Mot (Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, pp. 131-137) and the Leviathan reflects the mythology of the great battles of creation mythology where the Seas (Leviathan as chaos monster) contest creation. The Behemoth is a land monster and the Leviathan is a sea monster (perhaps even similar to the two beasts in Revelation 13).

The Behemoth is beyond Job’s ability. “Only the Maker,” Yahweh says, “can approach it with the sword.” Unlike other wild animals, only God can do battle with the Behemoth. Yahweh announces the inability of humanity to deal with chaos.

Job cannot crush the Behemoth, so how could he ever hope to crush the wicked? If Yahweh can capture and tame the Behemoth whose ferocity frightens all other creatures, can not Yahweh deal with the evil and chaos in Job’s life?

But did God create the Behemoth, a chaos animal? Did God create chaos? The prophet Isaiah confesses that Yahweh creates both good and evil (disaster; Isaiah 45:7), and Job has already confessed that humans receive both good and evil from Yahweh (Job 1:20). The point is that Yahweh is sovereign over chaos; it does not have an autonomous reign within the world. God reigns over the chaos, manages it, and utilizes it for his own purposes.

Leviathan (41:1-34)

This mythic animal is associated with the water (41:1-2)  and breathes fire (41:19-21). Apparently, it depicts the mythic sea monster that generates chaos and rules over the chaos–the Leviathan is a prince in the world (41:34). Job himself referred to the Leviathan in his opening lament (Job 3:8). In that poem Job hoped that the Leviathan would reverse creation and destroy the day of his birth.

The Leviathan is a princely figure (and some even identify him with the satan). He has no equal in all creation and “is king over all that are proud” (40:33-34). Chaos (and evil) reigns within the creation–nothing under heaven can compete with the Leviathan (41:11). B he does not reign over the creation because Yahweh can rein in the Leviathan. Chaos fills the earth but it is limited, controlled, and managed by Yahweh as everything belongs to Yahweh (41:11).

Job cannot crush the Leviathan, so how could he ever hope to crush the wicked? If Yahweh can tame the Leviathan who crushes the proud, can Yahweh not crush the chaos and evil in Job’s life?

Conclusion

It is important to note that God does not, as yet (but will, cf. Isaiah 27:1), destroy these monsters of chaos. Chaos still exists within creation, but God manages, controls and limits it. Job is powerless before chaos, but Yahweh is not. Yahweh is sovereign over chaos.

The reign of God over the chaotic cosmos is the primary theme of God’s speeches to Job. Whether it is the gracious power of God to create and sustain his universe (as in Job 38-39), or whether it is the power of God to control and tame the chaotic forces in nature like the Leviathan and the Behemoth (as in Job 40-41), the point is the same. Job cannot claim to control or even know about these forces, but God does. God reigns over nature, and while there is chaos, it is not beyond his control. On the contrary, that chaos is at God’s command. It will do his bidding. The Behemoth is one whom no one can capture, but his maker can tame him (Job 40:19,24). The Leviathan is one whom no one can bridle, but he belongs to his maker (Job 41:11,13). No one but God can control the chaotic forces of nature, and we must confess with Job, “I know you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted” (42:2).
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Job 42:1-6 — Did Job “Repent”?

Something climatic happens in Job 42:1-6 when Job responds to Yahweh’s second speech.

Some believe that Job is unmoved.  He has heard God and is not convinced. He maintains his defiant stance since God has not answered his questions. This is a rather recent critical position taken by several in the Academy (cf. Curtis, JBL [1979] 497-511).

Some believe Job is penitent. Job experiences a conversion. He acknowledges his sin–at least the sin of arrogance or the sin of justifying himself and putting God in the wrong–and submits to God. This is a rather traditional position (cf. Newell, WTJ [1984] 298-316]).

Others, a minority report, suggest that both of these misread Job.  I accept this minority report and hope to explain a version of it in this post.

Yahweh’s first speech silenced Job (Job 40:4-5). He confessed his finitude (“I am of small account”) and promised silence (“I lay my hand on my mouth”). Yet, Job does not seem content; he does not embrace God in doxology. He simply gives up his complaint (“I will proceed no further” ), but he does not appear satisfied. There is, at least, no indication of that. It is as if Job is saying, “I hear you and I recognize your creative wisdom and power, but….” And the “but” is left unexpressed.

But Yahweh expresses it. Job still wonders about the reign of evil in the world. Has God lost control? Where is the justice of God? Or, has God turned toward evil himself? Yahweh’s second speech addresses these questions. Yahweh says, “I am sovereign over evil and chaos.”

Job’s response to the second speech comes in two parts. First, Job praises Yahweh (42:2-3). Second, Job embraces Yahweh’s presence (42:4-6).

Job praises Yahweh (42:2-3). Job acknowledges that God is Almighty and that his every purpose will be accomplished. Interestingly, “purpose” is the same term Job used in 21:27 when he was talking the divine “schemes” against him. Job recognizes that he cannot disrupt God’s plans, purposes, or intent, even if he does not like them.

Job responds to Yahweh’s question, “Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?” (cf. 42:3; 38:2). Job doxologically confesses that God’s purposes are “too wonderful” for him. Job uses the same term present in Psalm 139:6,14; it is a term Job himself had previously used in a doxological context in Job 9:10. He confesses God’s wondrous acts as well as his ignorance of their meaning and significance. Job knows he does not understand God. He has confessed this earlier as well (9:11; 12:13; 23:8′ 26:12).

So, what is new? Nothing here is new. It is rather a renewed confession, a remembrance of what Job already knew and confessed.  What is new is what comes next.

Job embraces Yahweh’s presence (42:4-6). Again, Job quotes Yahweh (cf. 42:4; 38:3; and, interestingly, both of these quotations of Yahweh go back to Yahweh’s first speech). In this second response, Job is responding to both speeches. His quotation is an acknowledgement that he cannot answer Yahweh’s questions. Job knows his limitations. But then the climactic confession appears: “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see you” (42:5).

This is the turning point. Here Job confesses his encounter with Yahweh.  Previously, Job had only heard of Yahweh or had only listened to Yahweh through the various ways in which Yahweh spoke to the patriarchs. Now something is different; Job has experienced something new. Now, Job has “seen” God.

We might take the verb “see” in a literal sense, that is, he saw God in the whirlwind. He saw the theophany.  Thus, Job’s hope was fulfilled. He had hoped to see God in the flesh again (19:26), and he did.  I think that is at least true, but it is more than that.  ”See” is also a metaphor for experience. Job has experienced Yahweh.  It is a theophanic encounter with or experience of God.

I have often referred to this as a “sanctuary” experience.  It is what the Psalmist in Psalm 73 experienced. He questioned God until he entered the sanctuary of God (73:16-17). It is what Habakkuk experienced. He questioned God until God appeared to him (expressed in the theophanic hymn of Habakkuk 3). It is the “nevertheless” of Psalm 13:5.  We cry “how long?”, but in our experience of God we “nevertheless” trust in God’s gracious purposes.

What happened in these instances is occasioned by the oppressive nature of the chaos or evil which burdened believers. They expressed that burden in lament. They cried, “how long?” or “why?” or “where are you?” Their questions were legitimate and faithful. This is also true of Job’s laments. But God showed up; he came to these lamenters. And they changed. This did not deligitimze their lament. Rather, it moved their lament to praise. They moved from lament to comfort. This is what happens to Job.

Job changes. Job, according to most English translations, repents. But repent is too strong for this word and leaves a false impression.  This is not the normal Hebrew term for “repentance” in the sense of a sorrow for sin or a turning away from sin.  Rather, this verb (nhm) fundamentally means a change of mind. Job changed his mind, just as God is depicted as changing his mind within the narrative of Scripture (cf.Exodus 32:12; Joel 2:13; Jonah 4:2; 1 Chronicles 21:15). There is nothing inherent in the word that denotes a change from evil to good, a kind of repentance as we normally think of the English term.

Job changed his mind, but from what to what?  I think the intertextual cue is how this Hebrew root is used in Job itself. The friends came to “comfort” Job (2:11); Job hopes that his bed would “comfort” him (7:13); Job calls his friends miserable “comforters” (16:2); Job questions whether his friends can “comfort” him (21:34); Job himself was one who “comforts mourners” (29:25); and in the Epilogue Job is “comforted” by his friends and family (42:11). Everywhere this root is used in Job, it always means “comfort” unless Job 42:6 is the exception.

So, why do translaters call it “repent” here? They believe that Job has somehow sinned in his addresses to God in the dialogue. Job must repent if there is to be resolution.  But if we do not assume that Job has sinned, then we might simply recognize that Job is comforted in this text.

However, Job’s language before he acknowledges his “change of mind” is problematic. The verb “I despise” has no object in Hebrew.  What does Job despise? What does he reject?   Job had previously used the term in how he had not “rejected the cause” of his servants (31:13), and how God had despised the work of his hands (10:3), and how Job had loathed his own life (9:21; cf. also 7:16). But without an object in 42:6 it is difficult to determine what Job despises/rejects except by context.

If we understand that Job has changed his mind, particularly that he has been comforted, perhaps what he now does is “despise” his case (or perhaps reject his lament). He gives up his lawsuit against God (“retract,” NASB). He will not press charges. Or, perhaps it is language that voices humility such as “I melt away” (NEB). I don’t think Job is recanting everything he said (as the NLT translates it) but is rather “letting go” of the lawsuit, “letting go” of lament, or humbling himself before God (“I am little/I melt [before you]“). He is letting go of whatever resentment (psychological) or legal proceedings (forensic) he had against God.He will no longer lament; he will no longer mourn.

Job’s encounter with God comforted him. Giving up his lawsuit or humbling himself before the divine theophany, Job is “comforted over [my] dust and ashes.” Perhaps “dust and ashes” is a metaphor for his mourning (a possible meaning of 30:19) or  ”dust and ashes” is a metaphor for the finitude of humanity who returns to dust and ashes in death (cf. Gen. 18:27). Either way, Job is consoled in his mortal humanity or in his mourning. Indeed, we may read Job 42:6 as Job’s reject and change of mind about mourning–he will now leave the place of mourning he has occupied since 2:11 and return to life (cf. Patrick, VT [1976], 369-371).

Living in a chaotic world, Job’s finitude and ignorance generated unanswered questions, nagging doubts, and bewildering situations. His encounter with Yahweh changed him. Yahweh’s theophany spoke about sovereignty, wisdom, and care which generated peace, praise. and comfort. Job was comforted despite unanswered questions because the presence of  Yahweh assured him. Job turned from mourning to comfort. Job’s lament moved to praise.

The Epilogue: Job Rewarded? (Job 42:7-17)

Don’t you hate a happy ending?

Many find the Epilogue too good to be true. At best, it has the ring of a fairy tale–it might even be pure silliness. It ends like a bad movie. At worst, it underscores the satan’s point–people serve God for profit. Job is rewarded; Job profits.

Some dismiss it as an orthodox attempt to defend the principle of distributive justice–in the end, everyone gets what they deserve. Others value it as an ironic twist by the narrator who offers a back-handed slap at orthodox defenders. It functions as a reductio ad absurdum.

However, these perspectives miss the real point.  The drama of the work was resolved in Job 42:5-6. This is the conclusion of the matter. Job experiences God and his lament has become praise.

Job is comforted before the Epilogue. He finds comfort in Yahweh’s presence, address, and grace. The story is “resolved” in that encounter. The story of Job’s lament ends at 42:6 before his prosperity is restored.  Indeed, the book could have ended at that point.

But it did not. So, what is the point or purpose of the Epilogue?  Let me suggest a few perspectives.

The Epilogue is the narrator’s comment on the previous drama. The narrator makes it clear that the friends were wrong and Job was right. Yahweh makes this clear: “My anger burns against you [Eliphaz] and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (spoken twice in 42:7-8!). What is “right” uses a verb that mans to be set up, established, fixed, or substantiated (BDB). Job is God’s servant and his prayer is effective for his friends. Job served as a priestly mediator for his friends–a most gracious act on his part.

The narrator/editor gives the readers a retrospective hermeneutical lens for reading the dialogues…just in case there is any doubt. The Epilogue functions, at least in this respect, to underscore the integrity of Job, the rightness of his speech, and the erroneous speech of the friends. The narrator places his stamp of approval on Job with Yahweh’s own words.

The critique of the Epilogue often turns, however, on the fact that Yahweh restored Job’s fortunes. But it is important to note that God does not restore his fortunes in the light of his “repentance” (as many read Job 42:6) but in the light of his priestly act for his friends.  God restored Job’s blessings “when he had prayed for his friends.” The “reward” (if we want to use that language) is not a “reward” for his response to Yahweh’s speeches, but a “reward” (if you will) for how he loved his friends. Job, paradigmatically, assumes the role that Israel had in the world–he served as a priest among his friends just as Israel served as a priest among the nations.

The significance of this point is that this has nothing to do with the satan’s question in the Prologue. That was answered in 42:5-6. Yahweh blesses Job in the context of his love for his friends.

But I think we can say more. It is significant that Job receives a “double” portion. That is an inheritance portion; it is a sign of special favor.  The firstborn receives double (Deuteronomy 21:17). Hannah received a “double” portion because she was loved (1 Samuel 3:5). Elisha received a “double portion” as the successor of Elijah (2 Kings 2:9), and it is eschatological language in Isaiah 61:7. Serving as a priest among his friends, Job received a “double portion” just as Israel as a priest among the nations receives a double portion.

Job’s blessings are a figure of eschatological inheritance. It is an act of divine grace; it is a gift, unearned and undeserved. It is not profit, but gift. The “happy” ending is a blessed ending, a foretaste of eschatological joy.

What did God find in Job? He found a person who did not turn from wisdom–he continued to fear and turn away from evil. Job maintained his integrity.  Though he lamented–often bitterly–he nevertheless trusted.

What did God find in Job? He found what Jesus said the Son of Man will be looking for when he returns to earth. Will the Son of Man faith upon the earth he comes again (Luke 18:8)?

Job is every person and every person is Job. Everyone is involved in the cosmic question–do we serve God for profit? Will we persevere in faith even when the circumstances are tragic? Will Jesus find us living in faith when he returns?

Mark 3:7-19 — The Twelve are Chosen

Mark’s Gospel now enters a new phase.  In the first part of Mark, Jesus has gained popularity among the people but opposition has emerged among the religious (Pharisees) and political (Herodians) leaders. His popularity sky-rocketed through his healing ministry among Galilean villages but opposition grew as he crossed traditional boundaries and assumed the role of an authoritative teacher.

Now the Gospel begins a new chapter in the ministry of Jesus with the selection of the Twelve in this pericope (3:13-19) that ends with their missional charge in 6:6b-13. In this section the popularity of Jesus spreads, his identity begins to dawn on the Twelve as they struggle to grasp the significance of Jesus, and Jesus’ parabolic teaching challenges his hearers. At the same time opposition grows.

This section is headed by a Markan summary statement, a typical feature in this Gospel. It not only introduces a new section but expands the popularity of Jesus.  New regions, other than Galilee, are coming to Jesus.  Having heard about his miracle-working (not what he said, but what he did!), people are now coming from not only Judea and Jerusalem, but also from Idumea (a region south of Judea), from the Transjordan (the region west of the Jordan), and from the northern coastal regions of Tyre and Sidon. Jesus is drawing from the whole of Palestine, from the whole of the region once occupied by the kingdoms of David and Solomon. Mark probably hints that Jesus’ influence is comparable to the golden era of Davidic and Solomonic reigns.

And this happens despite Jesus’ attempt to withdraw. Jesus seems to have wanted to avoid the crowds, but they followed him everywhere he went.  The crowds were so pressing–many just wanted to touch him–that Jesus had a boat ready to avoid being crushed. This is a vivid indication of how excited the people where and how potentially unruly they might become. They were desperate people–hopeless in their brokenness. Jesus, therefore, was endangered by both a zealous populous and by an official contempt. But, strikingly, he was not endangered by demons whom most in the ancient world would have feared. His authority over them was absolute. When he silence them, they shut up. When he exorcised them, they obeyed.

Though he attempted to withdraw, Jesus nevertheless healed those who came to him.  The ministry of the kingdom of God continued.  In this context, for the first time since the opening of the Gospel (1:1, 11) Jesus is confessed as “Son of God.”  There seems to be a progression in Mark’s record. Taking 1:1 as the title to the Gospel, the Father is the first to announce Jesus’ sonship.  Now, the demons announce it whereas previously they had used the language of the “Holy One of God” (1:24). The demons knew who he was (1:34).  It will be some time before the disciples learn who Jesus is and make their confession (cf. 8:29). Ultimately, in the Gospel of Mark, even a Roman soldier will confess Jesus as Son of God (Mark 15:39). At this point, however, only the Father and the demons have announced this truth that is part of the good news about Jesus.

Mark gives us a summary of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee as a kind of heading to the new focus in his Gospel. Jesus appoints the Twelve and the focus of the Gospel turns to their relationship with Jesus. Presumably, he chooses them out of the many people who are following Jesus at this point, or he has been carefully selecting some along the way until it reached the number Twelve.  In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus had previously called Peter, Andrew, James, John and Levi to follow him. Now he completes the number.

Twelve, of course, is a significant symbolic number.  If the regions of Jesus’ influence point toward his royal character, his intentional appointment of Twelve signals the appearance of a renewed Israel as the number mirrors the number of the sons of Jacob and the tribes of Israel. The Twelve are a gathered community whom Jesus will train and then send out. They are the new community of Israel.

Jesus, Mark literally says, went up on the mountain to do this.  Given the redemptive-historical associations of the regions coming to Jesus and the number Twelve, the highlighting of the mountain reminds us of Sinai or other mountain experiences of God’s people in the past.  We remember the various mountains within the stories of Israel. God reveals himself there, and it is on a mountain that Jesus calls together his community of Twelve. It is a divine act, a revelatory moment. The significance of ”mountain,” “Twelve,” and the regions of Idumea, Transjordan, and Tyre & Sidon underscores the newness (renewal) of the kingdom of God which is breaking into the world through the ministry of Jesus.

The Twelve are named. Of the Twelve, only Peter, James and John are mentioned by name in the rest of Mark’s Gospel. Simon is listed first and his Aramaic nickname (Cephas, or Peter, or Rock) is not explained. It seems as though the readers are somewhat familiar with how Simon got the name Peter and this may reflect Peter’s preaching in Rome which is the supposed basis of as well as provenance of Mark’s Gospel. The “sons of Thunder” are identified (a Greek nickname also based on an Aramaic original); they are James and John. Interestingly, though Andrew was called with Peter, James and John, he is listed fourth and disconnected from Peter (unlike Luke 6 and Acts 1). This probably reflects the close association between Jesus and his three intimate friends (Peter, James and John). We will see that intimate group emerge in the rest of the Gospel.

The names of the Twelve are listed in a different order than found in Matthew and Luke, and Thaddaeus in Mark and Matthew is known as Judas of James in Luke (and Acts 1). Judas of James (his formal name) was probably also known as Thaddaeus.  Simon is identified, literally, as the “Cananaean” which is a transliteration of the Hebrew term meaning “zealous” or “jealous.”  This is probably not a reference to a political party since Zelots as a political party did not arise until the Jewish War which began in 66 C.E. It probably refers to Simon’s zealous piety or his jealousy for the law and Jewish way of life. Judas Isccariot (from the village of Karioth) is noted last with the ominous modifier that remembers him as the one who betrayed Jesus.

Why choose the Twelve? They will travel with him and learn the way of the kingdom from Jesus–he chose them to be “with him.” This will prepare them for mission which is identified in the text.  Jesus will send (the Greek verb from which we derive the noun “apostle”) to (1) herald the coming of the kingdom of God and (2) enact the coming of the kingdom of God through exercising the authority over demons.  The Twelve are not chosen for reasons of status or hierarchy. They are chosen for mission; they are chosen to serve.

The Twelve are the nucleus of the church. They are the original community. Their identity is missional. The church follows in their footsteps.  They followed Jesus into the ministry of the kingdom of God, and we follow them as they followed Jesus. Just as missional was the identity of the founding community of Twelve, so it is the ongoing identity of the church. We are called, just as they were, to herald the coming of the kingdom of God and exercise authority over the principalities and powers of this world.

We should pause to ponder which kingdom we herald and whether we conform to rather than confront the powers of this world. Are we following Jesus–seeking first the kingdom of God, or are we seeking first the American dream?

Mark 3:20-35 — Blaspheming the Holy Spirit

Having chosen his twelve, Jesus resumes his ministry in Galilee, and he finds both popularity and opposition. He is so popular that people crowd him in such a way that Jesus and his disciples are not able to “eat bread,” that is, to eat anything. At the same time opposition intensifies with accusations of demon possession from Jerusalem authorities.

His popularity alarms his family and friends. This concern bookends this pericope in Mark. In Mark 3:20-21 “those who are close to him” (NIV says “his family”)  heard about how the crowds were hindering his own self-care and they concluded that he was “out of his mind” or “he is beside himself” (literally, “he is not himself”). At the end of the pericope in Mark 3:31-35 Jesus’ family (“mother and brothers”) arrive. Perhaps these two groups are the same (as the NIV translation wants us to think) but they may have been two different groups or connected groups. Perhaps the first group alerted the family and the family came to help with the situation. It is difficult to know with any certainity.

However we read it, some believed that Jesus was out of control. His popularity was too much. They thought, we might presume, that they needed to extract Jesus from the situation.  Perhaps Jesus’ family shows up to take him home and end the circus. They attempt an intervention–they came to “master” or “seize” him. But they can’t get to him because of the crowds.

But they misread what Jesus is doing. They fail to see the prophetic mantle Jesus assumed at his baptism to herald the kingdom of God and gather a new community in which God will reign. Jesus has just assembled his tweleve and Jesus has just begun discipling them. The crowds are overwhelming but the mission is important. The family does not see the momentous moment in which Jesus is engaged.

This is the context in which we should hear Jesus’ question, “Who are my mother and brothers?” (3:33). Jesus raises questions of priorities and relationships. In answer, Jesus looks at those seated around him–perhaps the twelve, but perhaps including more as “sisters” are included in 3:35–and says, “Here are my mother and sister and brother.” Something has shifted. His baptism and mission have changed how he views life.  We need not think that he here rejects his physical mother and brothers. Instead, he acknowledges that there is something more important than blood lines in the kingdom of God. The community of disciples dedicated to do the will of God is more important; it is his “new” family–mother, brothers and sisters. The kingdom of God establishes new “blood” lines for disciples; it is a new community.

Between these bookends regarding Jesus’ ministry lies another inclusio or bookend.  In both Mark 3:22 and Mark 3:30, Jesus is accused of demon possession. Teachers of the law from Jerusalem make the accusaion. Jesus has attracted crowds from Judea and Jerusalem (Mark 3:8) and this has apparently raised eyebrows among the leaders in Jerusalem. It seems likely that the Sanhedrian (the ruling Jewish Council in Jerusalem) sent an investigative committee to Galilee to confront Jesus.

The accusation is radical, and it needs to be.  Jesus has been exorcizing demons; he has been demonstrating authority of the demons (and he intends to give that same authority to the Twelve). Such authority announces the reign of God in the ministry of Jesus. If the Jerusalem leaders are going to oppose Jesus they must explain this ability, and they have an explanation.

They accuse Jesus of casing out demons by the power of Beelzebul who is the ruler of the demons. [Some texts read Beelzebub, meaning "lord of flith/flies," but the best texts read "Beelzebul," meaning "lord of heaven."].  Beel is a Greek from of Baal, the infamous Cannanite god in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus, then, is associated with Baal–the very idolatry that led to the exile of Israel and Judah. In the minds of the Jerusalem investigators, Jesus is praticing Satanic magic.  This lived on within the Jewish community for centuries (and was part of pagan anti-Christian polemics as well). The Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 43a [Baraitha]) states: “Yeshu of Nazareth was hanged on the day of prepartion for the Passover becaue he practiced sorcercy and led the people astray” (as quoted by William Lane in his commentary on Mark, p. 142, note 88). The accusation, then, assumes Jesus is an idolater, sorcerer, and demon-possessed. Perhaps he learned his magic while he was in Egypt, so the pagan responses to Christianity claimed.  It seems likely that this story remains within the Gospel narratives as a response to such polemics.

Jesus responds in two ways.  First, he answers the accusation (3:23-27).  Second, he warns his accusers (3:28-29).

“How can Satan drive out Satan?,” Jesus retorts. Jesus identifies Beelzebul with Satan–humanity’s chief accuser. If Jesus works for the kingdom of Satan, then Satan’s strategy is misguided. Who divides their own kingdom? Who divides their own house? If Jesus is working for Satan, then Satan’s stragety is self-defeating.

However, the accusers are right on one count, Jesus says. The end has come upon Satan, but not for the reasons they think. If they are right, Satan defeats himself and his end has arrived.  But Jesus, while agreeing that his end has come, explains the “how” differently. What is happening is that the kingdom of God is breaking into the kingdom of Satan; the reign of God is defeating the reign of Satan. Jesus has come to bind Satan so that he might despoil Satan’s house. The strong man is going down and the reign of God is taking over. Just as Jesus’ family misread his ministry, so had the Jerusalem leaders.

Jesus’ ire has been raised. He gives the leaders a warning. Jesus prefaces his warning with his own self-affirming “Amen!” This marks his language with solemnity and certainty. In other words, heed this warning: God forgives all sorts of sins and blasphemies against humanity but he does not forgive the eternal sin of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (that is, against God).

Before assesing the meaning of this warning, several items are notable. First, Jesus identifies his work in exorcism as the work of the Holy Spirit. Jesus speaks and acts against demons by the power of the Holy Spirit. Second, “unforgiveable sin” is not a new idea within Judaism. Blaspheming the name of God was regarded as unforgiveable (cf. Lane p. 145). Jesus essentially equates the equation of his work with the work of Satan as a form of blaspheming the name of God (e.g., blaspheming the Holy Spirit).

Contextually, it seems clear that Jesus is specifically identifies blasphemy with the leader’s accusation, that is, when we say that the words and works of Jesus are the words and works of Satan. This is a posture that rejects Jesus. Instead of confessing Jesus as the “Son of God” (as the Father announced and the demons confirmed within the gospel up to this point), the leaders accuse Jesus as a son of Satan. This is blasphemy.

At one level Jesus may be saying, “You leaders believe in unforgiveable sins, d0n’t you? You think I am doing one now myself!  Let me tell you, if any sin is unforgiveable, it is the one which you have just committed!” In this sense, perhaps Jesus is not actually saying there is an unforgiveable sin as much as he is turning the tables on his accusers.

On the other hand, if Jesus actually does affirm an “unforgiveable sin” here it is one that arises out of firm and settled rejection of Jesus. It is not some inadvertant remark about the Spirit, or one’s unbelief at some point in their life, or a willful sin in their past. Rather, it is a persistent rejection of Jesus as the herald of the kingdom of God.  It is to identify the work of the kingdom of God with the work of Satan. Jesus’ langauge, I think, focuses on the present act of rejection–whoever blasphemes commits an eternal sin. As long as anyone continues in that rejection, their condemnation continues.

Anyone who worries about whether they have committed this sin misses the point. If this is a worry, then it is not the kind of heart Jesus is describing here. The heart that blasphemes the Holy Spirit is the heart that does not worry about whether they have done so our not; they have rejected Jesus.

The ministry of Jesus in the ministry of the kingdom of  God.  Jesus gathes a new community–a new family of “brothers and sisters.” This new community is the reign of God in the world.  That reign, even now, is breaking into Satan’s house to despoil it and defeat it. As the kingdom of God progresses, the kingdom of Satan comes to its end. As disciples of Jesus, we live among brothers and sisters who are bear witness by our life, words and acts to the defeat of Satan’s kingdom.

Six Theses on Creation: A Theology for Heralding the Coming Kingdom of God

This week I am participating in a wonderful conference on preaching the paradigmatic texts of Scripture. The focus of this particular conference is creation.  Walter Brueggemann is the featured speaker and his presentation last night on Psalm 104 was excellent. Other speakers include Ken Durham, John York, David Fleer and Rhonda Lowry. Everyone has done a wonderful job.

I made a presentation entitled “A Confessional Theology of Creation for Heralding the Coming Kingdom of God.”  For those who are interested, click Lipscomb Creation Lecture for a copy.

The six theses are:

1.    God creates the heavens and the earth as a dwelling place in which God comes to rest.

2.   God creates a telic dynamic reality that is good but not perfect.

3.   God creates humanity as a partner in the dynamic processes of created reality.

4.   God creates a material reality designed to mediate a divine-human communion experienced within and through creation.

5.    God creates amidst a continuing chaos under which the creation itself, along with God’s human partners, groans and yearns for liberation, which is the telos of creation.

6.   God creates, even now though not yet fully, a new heaven and new earth through the ministry of Jesus and the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit.

Mark 4:1-20 — The Parable of the Sower as Kingdom Theology

The Gospel of Mark is rightly characterized as an action-oriented telling of the story of Jesus. So, it is important to pay particular attention when the Gospel slows down to focus on the teaching of Jesus as it does in Mark 4.

Mark offers a kind of synopsis of Jesus parabolic teaching. The Gospel stresses that Jesus taught in parables and this is significant to the author. The narrator tells us that Jesus taught in “many parables” (4:2, 33)  though only a few are offered.  More importantly, the narrator articulates the rationale for teaching in parables (4:10-12, 34). And it surprises the reader.

The Greek term for parable, like its Hebrew counterpart, has a wide range of meaning. It can refer to a lengthy story or a pity proverb. The basic idea is that one thing is compared to another. Parables are extended or crisp similes.  While the surface point may seem rather obvious, the referent may not be so obvious. A superficial reading of a parable will miss the point as parables intend to subvert the status quo and undermine the privileged positions of the hearers (and this is particularly true of the parables in the Gospel of Luke as illustrated the parables of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan).

Parables, then, hide as much as they reveal, and this is intentional. Jesus explained the parables to his inner circle, but he did not explain them to the crowds (4:34). Something about parables needed explaining and hearing a parable called for spiritual discernment. Jesus begins and ends the Parable of the Sower with Greek word for “hear” (or listen). Parables are puzzles; they demand careful attention.  Only those whose hearts are attune to the work of God are able to truly “hear.”

So, why does Jesus teach in parables? He uses parables to hide the truth of the kingdom from hearts that oppose God and reveal the kingdom to hearts that seek God. His opponents (3:6, 22) may “hear” but they do not listen (that is, they do not understand). They ”see” the simile but they do not “perceive” the mystery of the kingdom of God. Their hard hearts obstruct their reception of the kingdom.

Jesus’ explanation identifies the point of his parables. They reveal the “mystery” (secret) of the kingdom of God. They unveil the kingdom for those who have ears to hear. This is a hermeneutical clue for how to read the parables–they tell a secret about the kingdom. They point us to the mystery of the work of God’s reign in the world, and particularly in the ministry of Jesus. Kingdom parables are revelations of the work of Jesus in relation to the kingdom of God. They are another way in which Jesus heralds his basic message:  “The kingdom of God has drawn near” (Mark 1:15).

His opponents would not hear that. His disciples want to hear it though they struggle to understand. And the crowd….,well, we shall see as we move through the Gospel.

The crowds are present in huge numbers (4:1-2). They are so large and so crowded Jesus that he taught them from a boat in the lake. We might image the hills of the shoreline glistening with people listening to the parables of Jesus, and probably rather confused by the their hiddenness or perhaps self-assured concerning their “obvious” point.

Mark begins with what readers have called the Parable of the Sower.  Jesus apparently thought this was fairly basic as he wondered how his disciples would understand other parables if they could not understand this one (4:13). Insiders (those who are constantly with him)should be able to see the point, especially the Twelve whom he has chosen to herald the same message. Mark’s Gospel, then, starts with a simple parable but one which his closest associates found difficult to understand.

This is rather puzzling to us since we generally find the Parable of the Sower rather straight-forward. It seems obvious–at least after 2000 yeas of Christian reflection. But perhaps this is something we share with the disciples–we see the surface point, but what does it say about the kingdom? Perhaps we need to hesitate a bit ourselves before we are so self-assured of the meaning of the parable, and this is especially true if the parable has been heard superficially for centuries and it is difficult to develop “ears to hear” because of the tradition that obstructs our view.

The parable is about a sower and a harvest (4:3-8).

In Palestine farmers sowed before they plowed (cf. Jubilees 11:11). Consequently, sown seed will fall on all kinds of ground since the ground will be plowed after it is sown. Plowing will reveal limestone rock that lies inches beneath the soil. The crop won’t take root there. Thorns and weeds will grow back in some places more than others. Sowing, however, is generous. The seed is strewn throughout the plot of ground, and the plowing will root the seed in the ground.

The climax of the parable is the harvest. It is a bountiful, unexpected and wondrous harvest. Thirtyfold, sixtyfold and hundredfold yields are beyond the imagination of first century farmers. Yields of five or six were typical in Italy; Nile-irrigated fields in Egypt typically yielded seven. Yields of four or fivefold, howver,  were typical in Palestine; thirtyfold has only been achieved in modern Israel with good weather and improved technology (cf. Robert K. McIver, New Testament Studies [1994] 606-608, as quoted in Allen Black’s commentary on Mark, p. 89). Might we call that “good news”? Might it be “too good to be true”?

Jesus is describing his own ministry. He has come as a herald of the kingdom of God–preaching the good news of the kingdom, healing the sick and calling people to faith and repentance. He is sowing the seeds of the kingdom of God. And there will be an abundant harvest. The kingdom of God will explode in bounty; the kingdom ministry of Jesus will bear fruit.  The parable is an assurance that though Jesus has experienced opposition (hard hearts, thorns and weeds, etc.) the kingdom of God will take root, grow and yield an unexpected harvest.

Is the harvest eschatological (the end times) or is it present? It appears primarily eschatological (as in Mark 4:29) but that does not exclude proleptic inbreakings in the present. Nevertheless, the assurance here is that though opposition grows and the crowds dissipate, the kingdom of God will bear fruit in the end. Consequently, the disciples should not be discouraged. Their sowing will have its effect; it is not in vain.

But the parable is also about hearers.

When Jesus retells the parable for his disciples, he emphasizes the hearers (4:14-20). There is something in that message that his disciples need to understand. Jesus uses the refrain “when they hear” or those “who hear the word.” The emphasis is not on the sowing but the hearing, but why the shift? Since the interpretation of the parable follows Jesus’ explanation of why he speaks in parables, it appears that the emphasis on “hearing” is a further illumination of the rationale and why some do not “hear” the parables nor understand the mystery of the kingdom embedded in them. Jesus acknowledges the growing opposition to his message and he also acknowledges that the “crowds” themselves exhibit superficial rather than rooted faith.

Some do not hear because Satan takes the word from their hearts. Some hear but the seed cannot take root because of the rocky ground. Some hear but the growth is choked by weeds.

Jesus recognizes that Satan actively opposes his kingdom message and steals the word from the hearts of some. Jesus recognizes that some hearers are uncommitted and therefore cannot endure when opposition mounts and persecution arises. Jesus recognizes that some hearers are subtly turned from the kingdom message because their security rests more in their wealth and comforts than in the kingdom of God. Jesus’ popularity, like the crowds, are fleeting. The kingdom of God is not found in mass miracle movements. The bounty of the kingdom lies elsewhere.

Yet the message of the kingdom is powerful; it is good news. It takes root in the hearts of some hearers and bears unimagined fruit.

The sower sows the seed; Jesus heralds the good news of the kingdom of God.  The soil receives the seed; the power of the kingdom explodes into the lives of people and breaks into the world in wondrous ways.

The Parable of the Sower identifies the power and struggle of the ministry of Jesus. Jesus heralds and people listen; Jesus announces the coming of the kingdom and people respond. Sometimes they oppose Jesus; sometimes they receive him with joy until it threatens their status in the community; sometimes they follow Jesus until it gets uncomfortable or threatens their wealth. But sometimes the kingdom changes lives, and the bounty, wonder and joy of the harvest is more than anyone ever dreamed.

The Twelve will sow the seed of the kingdom in the story of Mark. And we sow the same seed. We encounter the same opposition and hearers. We experience the same disappointments and frustrations that Jesus did. Yet, we also claim the same promise; we–by the promise of God–expect a bountiful harvest. We sow the seed and God will give the increase. We may not see it now but the eschatological harvest will come.

Mark 4:21-34 — Kingdom Parables

“The kingdom of God has drawn near” is the basic message of Jesus (Mark 1:14,15). His parables offer a vision that assures us that the kingdom of God is a wondrous and wild reality. The kingdom of God cannot be hidden or silenced; it cannot be hindered or manipulated. The kingdom of God will fill the earth.

The Parable of the Lamp

The literal structure of the parable is clear. No one brings a lamp into a room only to hide its light. We bring light into a room to illuminate it. The surface level of the parable is easy enough but the difficulty comes in the rationale.

The light refers to something that is presently “hid” or “secret,” but intended to come to light or revealed. What is presently hidden? What is to be revealed?  It may refer to the meaning of the parables themselves–hidden to some but known to others (4:34-35). Or, it may refer to the hiddenness of the kingdom of God in the person and ministry of Jesus which is yet to be fully revealed. The light of the kingdom of God is breaking into the world. It is obscured by opposition and by the inability of some to hear, but the light will ultimately shine brightly.

Spiritual discernment sees the presence of the kingdom of God; it heas the message and sees the light, and the kingdom of God illuminates that corner of the world. Eventually, what is now hidden will fill the room; it will fill the cosmos. The kingdom of God will dispel the darkness and light up the world.

The Parable of the Measure

Jesus cautions his disciples to focus their hearing which is a renewed call to spiritual discernment.  This is couched in the language of “measure”–something is measured for distribution. It appears to say something like, the more you listen, the more you will understand. If the disciples pursue the message of the kingdom and embrace it, more will be given to them. The deeper the disciples grow into the life of the kingdom, the more they will receive.  However, those who do not seek the kingdom, who fail to understand the message, and oppose the message of the kingdom, whatever they have will be taken from them. Disciples must lean into the kingdom and bend their ear to hear. Only then will the kingdom of God take root in their lives and bear fruit.

The Parable of the Growing Seed

Jesus returns to the metaphor of sowing the seed of the kingdom. The emphasis here, however, is neither on the act of sowing nor on the hearing of the message. Rather, the emphasis is on the growth of the kingdom.  The sower sows and the harvest comes, but the sower does not know how it happens.

The dynamics of kingdom growth are not quantifiable. The kingdom cannot be manipulated or managed. Rather, the power of growth resides in the seed itself and the power of God’s own creative work. God gives the increase to the kingdom of God. And the harvest will come.

Disciples sow the seed. God grows the crop. The harvest is assured.

The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Sometimes parables are too familiar. We assume an inherited meaning–one handed down to us by tradition. An inherited meaning is not necessarily a bad one but it may not be a full one either. This is the case with the mustard seed.

A traditional reading equates parable with kingdom growth. The kingdom may start small, like a mustard seed, but it will grow to six to ten feet tall. This small seed produces a large plant (about 20,000 black mustard seeds weigh an ounce). Small beginnings, like a discipling ministrybeginning with twelve apostles, will bear fruit in tremendous growth. This is certainlyone aspect of this parable. A small seed produces a large bush. The kingdom of God has small beginnings but it will grow large. But there is more to this parable.

The Misnah, a second century CE document,  forbids planting mustard seeds in Palestinian gardens (though they are cultivated in other places). The reason is that this large shrub takes over wherever it is planted. It grows wild, gets out of control, and attracts unwanted birds who disturb the gardens. (See Crossan, Jesus–A Revolutionary Biography, 64-66). The kingdom of God is not compared to a majestic cedar, but to a wild bush which is difficult to rid from cultivated areas. We might compare it to something like kudzu which takes over wherever it is planted.

So what might be the point here? The kingdom of God cannot be domesticated, controlled or contained. It will grow from something small to something large, but more than that its growth overwhelms whatever else is there. Principalities and powers will not be able to curtail the growth of the kingdom of God. It will grow even where it is not wanted.

Disciples and Others

Mark concludes the parabolic teaching of Jesus with some perspective.  Parables hide as well as reveal. They hide the truth from those who are not ready to hear but they reveal the truth of the kingdom to those who seek it.  Jesus’ parables confront our hearts with the reality of the kingdom of God, but if we are not seeking the kingdom they are nothing other than cute amd curious stories.

However, the disciples at this point in the narrative did not have the capacity to hear well. Jesus called the Twelve to be with him, learn from him, and practice the kingdom of God with him.  They are Jesus’ apprentices and they are learning the “trade;” they are learning to hear so Jesus explains the parables to them though their understanding is meager.  This is part of the story of Mark’s Gospel–the disciples, dull in understanding, grow in their knowledge and experience of the kingdom of God.  And we are learning right along with them.

The kingdom of God begins small but ends huge; it is hidden but then revealed. It overwhelms the world and cannot be contained by its opponnets. Disciples locate themselves within the ministry of the kingdom of God, and we are assured that though opposition rises God will yet reign and the harvest will ultimately be fully realized. Disciples keep on sowing and God keeps on working.

Mark 4:35-41 – “Who is this?”

Mark’s action-oriented story paused for a few kingdom parables. Those parables painted a dramatic picture of the kingdom of God. They offer some perspective on the ministry of Jesus. The kingdom ministry of Jesus is sowing seed of the kingdom for an assured future harvest.

As Mark returns to the dramatic acts of Jesus and the dramatic events of his life–acts and events that reveal the presence of the kingdom of God in the person and ministry of Jesus, Mark begins to focus on the question Jesus’ identity in the next several pericopes (4:35-5:43). This first story ends with the question, “Who is this?” Jesus demonstrates his power over the sea, the demons, sickness and death. These events clarify the identity of Jesus.

The first story is the calming of the sea. The Sea of Galilee lies in a basin about 700 feet below sea level with the Jordan River pouring into from the north and flowing out its southern end. It is thirteen miles long and seven miles wide. On the east and west are high ridges (some reaching 2000 feet above sea level) with sharp wadis (gorges) that cut through the mountains from both the east and west (but especially the west). When hot high winds blow off the desert through these wadis and sweep over the ridges to encounter cool air on the lake, white tips quickly appear as the wadis function as funnels and the lake becomes a dangerous place.

This is probably the sort of storm Jesus and his disciples experienced. Avoiding the crowds, Jesus requested transit to the “other side” of the lake. This moved Jesus from the predominately Jewish regions of the lake (around Capernaum presumably) to the predominately Gentile regions of the sea (in the Decapolis). During this evening maneuver a “furious squall” whipped up that frightened even the experienced fishermen in the boat (and other boats with them). The waves were high enough to swamp the boat. It appeared to the disciples that the boats might sink and everyone drown. But Jesus was asleep…at rest…even during the storm.

In 1986, when the lake was low, a wooden structure was discovered in the revealed part of the lake. It was a first century fishing (or ferry) boat–27 feet long and about 8 feet wide. The picture is a reconstruction. The discovered boat now resides in a museum.

The fear of the disciples awoke Jesus. The faith of Jesus calmed the sea. And the disciples wondered in whose presence they found themselves.

Mark’s story is not simply about an isolated incident in the life of Jesus. The historical incident has “mythic” proportions. It is a theological tale as well as a historical one. Sea storm stories conjure up images of the chaotic seas threatening God’s creation and the history of Israel. Yet, God manages the chaos and is sovereign over the waters (cf. Psalm 33:7). The Psalmist praises the God of Israel “who still[s] the roaring of the seas” (Psalm 65:7). The waters obey God (Psalm 77:16).

Psalm 107:23-32, in particular, parallels Mark’s story. On the “mighty waters” the sailors see the “wonderful deeds in the deep” as God whips up a storm at his command: “he spoke and stirred up a tempest.” The “courage” of the sailors “melted away,” and “they cried out to the Yahweh” in their “distress.” God saved them as he “stilled the storm to a whisper” and the “waves of the sea were hushed.” The sailors responded with joy, thanksgiving and praise. They carried that praise to the “assembly of the people” and celebrated their redemption. They moved from fear to faith; from terror to thanksgiving.

The disciples experience the storm and its calming against this backdrop. Throughout their lives they have praised Yahweh who calms the storms and commands the chaos. Now, in their very presence, is one who does the same. “Who is this?” they ask, “Even the wind and the waves obey him?” The praises of Israel provide the answer to that question. It is Yahweh.

Jesus rebukes the wind and waves just as he had earlier rebuked the demons (Mark uses the same word in 4:39 as he did in 1:25). Jesus is sovereign over both chaos and evil, over both “natural evil” and “moral evil” as the philosophers identify the categories. The kingdom of God in the person of Jesus brings peace to chaos and conquers demonic powers.

Fear is perhaps understandable but Jesus questions it. “Why are you afraid?” he asks the disciples. Jesus seems to think that their apprenticeship to this point should have developed their faith. Given their experience of the kingdom of God to this point, they should have trusted God in the storm rather than fearing the storm. This is the kind of faith found in Psalm 46. “Though the waters roar and foam,” the Psalmist confesses, “we will not fear” because “Yahweh Almighty is immanu,” that is “with us” (Psalm 46:2-3, 7, 11).

Jesus is Immanuel, that is, God with us. The disciples were afraid because they did not recognize who was with them. They have not yet come to confess that Jesus is the Son of God, that he is the presence of God among them. As yet they had no faith. Fear hinders faith but faith dispels fear.

But the disciples are learning; they are asking questions. It is beginning to dawn on them perhaps. Who can rebuke winds and waves? The Psalmists know. The praises of Israel know. And the disciples are beginning to believe that the Holy One of Israel is in their midst which itself creates its own kind of fear. They were afraid (literally, cowards) during the storm and now in the presence of the one who stilled it they are fearful (distressed) for a different reason.

We, too, are ever learning. We often live in fear, especially as the storms of life enwrap us. Learning to live in faith means we do not fear the storms (cf. Psalm 112:7) . Learning to live in faith means we trust in Jesus who commands the storms, calms them, and embodies the peace of God. Though the storms engulf us, we confess in faith; we will not fear. But that is something it take time to learn just as it did for the Twelve.

Who is My Enemy? New Book from Lee C. Camp

My dear friend, as well as colleague, Lee C. Camp has recently released a new book entitled:  Who Is My Enemy? Questions American Christians Must Face About Islam–and Themselves. Lee is Professor of Theology and Ethics at Lipscomb University in Nashville (TN) where I also teach.  

Lee uses a line from a prayer of St. Francis of Assisi as a hermeneutical principle:  ”Grant that we may not so much seek…to be understood as to understand.” He focuses this principle in the light of Mirosalv Volf’s call for “double vision” in his book Exclusion and Embrace, that is, to look at any question from the other’s point of view, especially our enemies. To love our neighbors is to understand their point of view even if we might not agree with it.

Consequently, Lee attempts to understand Islam’s presumed orientation to war-making, and at the same time compare it with the Just War tradition in the history of Christianity. The results are stimulating and disconcerting.

The Jesus story, Lee claims, is nonviolent, and the leading theologians of the early church until the fourth century were also nonviolent. They opposed violence and war-making. Following his teacher and mentor John Howard Yoder, Lee suggests that a Jesus politic generates “a distinctive community that has its own particular, if sometimes peculiar, ways of life together” (p. 32). This community loves its enemies, seeks peace, rejects violence, and pursues justice. The Christian politic is a “politics of suffering, nonretaliatory love” (p. 37).

Interestingly, Lee suggests that Muhammad initially employed a similar hermeneutic. He “counseled nonretaliation” in his early years, but this changed due to excessive persecution in Mecca against his followers and the rise of his power in Medina. Muhammad now permitted his followers to defend themselves and even aggressively attack representatives of the persecuting power. Muhammad, at this time, was an advocate of self-defense.

This is the difference between the Jesus and Muhammad stories. Jesus rejected the use of violence but Muhammad employed violence and “war-making in his administration of justice” (p. 45). Muhammad sought a just society and used force to secure it. Jesus sought a just society and used suffering love to secure it.

Lee suggests that what developed in Islam after Muhammad was a classical tradition of war-making that is similar if not morally equivalent to the Just War tradition within historic Christendom.  The “criteria and limits upon war…paralleled in many ways the Christian Just War tradition” (p. 59). Islam, like Christianity (using Greco-Roman resources), developed the need for a just cause, declared intent, a legitimate authority, and limits for how to conduct war. The formal logic, Camp contends, of historic (e.g., Constantinian and Augustinian) Christian and Islamic war-making criteria is essentially the same.

But war is not always conducted on the basis of what are regarded as “just criteria.” Indeed, war-making in the European Christian tradition seems to arrogate to itself the right to transcend those criteria as needed. Whether it is the Crusades, or Puritan assaults on Native Americans in “New England,” or Sherman’s march to the sea, the Just War tradition failed to hinder unjust war-making. Lee recounts some of these stories; they are horrific. These ventures have at least one thing in common–violence against non-combatants or the redefinition of combatants so that it includes everyone living in the city (Jerusalem), village (Pequot), state (Georgia), or nation (Germany and Japan). As Lee states, the West likes the Just War tradition’s “formal logic–that war can be justified–but [it] does not like its constraints” (p. 95). These stories should be told in the West so that our national narratives might hear and take account of Western abuses of the Just War tradition.

The logic that extends transcends the constraints of just war-making in some situations in the West is the same logic that is utilized by Muslim terrorists. “Total war” in Western practice (whether “Christian” or the Enlightenment politics of liberal Western democracies) is similar to a terrorist “holy war”–they both violate “just war” criteria, particularly the death of non-combatants (including women and children). “Moral equivalency” is the contention and is thus the justification articulated by terrorists (whether some Muslims or some right-wing American militia). The logic that burned crops in Georgia in order to make the South “beg for mercy,” that firebombed German and Japanese cities in order to subvert civilian morale, and that nuked Hiroshima and Nagasaki to force surrender is formally the same logic as Muslim or American (e.g., the Oklahoma City bombing) terrorism (p. 101). That is a chilling conclusion but one that Lee argues convincingly.

At this point in the book, Lee “takes stock” (chapter 14) and it is important to hear him carefully. First, “the founding narratives of Christianity and Islam are different.”  While Muhammad used the sword to end the conflicts on the Arabian peninsula, Jesus “employed the way of the cross to deal with” conflict (p. 105).

Second, “the mainstream of Christian tradition looks more like the Muhammad story than the Jesus story” as it has rejected the basic narrative of peace-making in the Jesus narrative.  He states this clearly: “I simply mean that the formal shape, the basic logic, of the church’s understanding of the employment of force on behalf of justice was more like the subsequent teaching of Muhammad than the teaching of Jesus” (p. 106).

Do we believe the peace-making ethic of Jesus is realistic? Jesus lived it; he is our model. He is a peacemaker, and they killed him. That is realistic. When we advocate peace-making, it will upset some…especially when we advocate it on Veterans Day. But it is, as Lee argues and I believe, the ethic of the Sermon on the Mount, the ethic of Jesus.

Mark 5:1-20 — Jesus Exorcizes Unclean Spirits

Mark’s action-soaked narrative testifies to the identity of Jesus. Who is Jesus? He calms storms, exorcizes demons, heals diseases, and raises the dead. The question the disciples raised after Jesus calms the storm is answered by a demon named “Legion.”

Ferried to the eastern side of the lake, “the region of Gerasenes,” Jesus encountered a demon-possessed man immediately after getting out of the boat. Mark describes the behavior and condition of this demoniac in great detail; in more detail than he does anywhere else. Mark uses this story to say something important about demon possession.

This demon-possessed man lived among tombs, presumably carved from the caves the line the hills that rise up from the shore of the lake. He lived in isolation. He practiced self-mutilation which is a form of self-destruction or self-hatred. He apparently had abnormal strength since he had broken chains with which others had attempted to restrain him. Whether the restraints were merely for his own protection or he was also a threat to the community is open to question. When healed in 5:15, he was calm (sitting), clothed, and in his “right mind” (able to exercise self-control and moderate his passions). This contrast indicates that his conduct previously was just the opposite: hyperactive, naked and disconnected from reality. He lived a self-destructive, isolated and miserable existence.

Demon possession dehumanizes a person. It reverses the dignity of a human being created in the image of God to enjoy life. Isolated, they cannot experience community. Self-destructive, they live with pain and degradation. They hate life and hate themselves rather than loving life. The demoniac power undermines the divine intent for human life; it destroys what it means to be human.

Whether or not actual demon possession is an ongoing reality in our present world (some think it was a measured, divinely permitted expression of Satanic activity for the sake of revealing the kingdom of God in the ministry of Jesus and in the ministry of the early church), any dehumanizing power is ultimately demonic or Satanic in origin. Dehumanization is an expression of the principalities and powers that are hostile to the kingdom of God.

This hostility is evident in the text. Indeed, the word Mark uses to describe the meeting between Jesus and the demoniac is sometimes used to describe the meeting of hostile powers on the battlefield (5:2). Whether it means that here is questionable, but the context underscores the hostile relationship that exists between Jesus and demons. The demoniac shouted at Jesus, “What is it between you and me” (5:7; my translation). The demon fears that Jesus will “torture” him.

The demon knows he is in trouble because he knows the identity of Jesus. The demon answers the disciples’ question in 4:41, “Who is this?” The demon acknowledges: “Jesus, Son of the Most High God!” The answer reminds us how Mark titled his narrative (1:1). This acknowledgement, unconfessed at this point by any disciple or human being, reminds us that the identity of Jesus is more than simply Messiah.

Jesus commands the winds and the waves, and he also commands demons. I say demons because when questioned, this demon sayings his name is “Legion, for we are many.” A Legion is a military grouping that could have four to six thousand men. Whether the many is possessed by literally thousands of demons or whether the name is a hyperbole for “many,” the point is that Jesus is commanding a larger number of demons. He is not simply doing battle with one demon but a “Legion” (or “many”). And the military term “Legion” underscores the hostile nature of the encounter. Jesus defeats demons, even when he is outnumbered.

When demons are exorcised, where do they go? Presumably, they roam the earth to do battle with the kingdom of God. The demons did not want to leave the region where they were but they sensed that the presence of Jesus meant they would have to flee. They beg to stay and go into a herd of pigs feeding “on the nearby hillside.”

“So,” Jesus ruminates, “you don’t want to leave, then, ok, go among the herd of pigs.” So, they did, and 2,000 pigs drowned themselves in the lake. Just as the demoniac pursued self-destructive behavior, so the pigs rushed to self-destruction. Demoniac powers are hostile to God’s kingdom, including God’s creation. They oppose and seek to destroy whatever good exists within God’s creation.

Why did Jesus do that? Some have thought that Jesus, a good Jew, did not like pigs anyway. While the Torah prohibits eating pork, there is no hatred of pigs in the Torah. This is not about Jesus’ Jewishness. Rather, it is about demoniac hostility to God’s creation. It reveals what the hostile powers intend for God’s creation. Jesus permits the demons to show their true colors. Even when unclean spirits go into unclean animals they are destructive. God is always permitting demons (and Satan) to do their work–God could rid the world of demons with a single fiat. But God does not do that; God permits them to pursue their hostile agenda, just as Jesus did here on this occasion.

Of course, the owners of the pigs did not appreciate Jesus’ permission. They saw Jesus as a threat. He healed a demoniac and, as far as they were concerned, he destroyed their pigs. No wonder they were afraid. They had the same fear that the disciples had after Jesus calmed the storm; at least Mark uses the same word to describe both (5:15 with 4:41). They, too, were likely asking the question, “Who is this?” Whoever he is, however, they want nothing to do with him. For all they know he might be a danger to their region. They begged him to leave; using the same word that the “many” used (5:17 with 5:10, 12). The people in the Decapolis (a Gentile region east of the Galilean Sea defined by ten cities) stand in the same relation to Jesus as the demonic “Legion.”

Jesus leaves but he also leaves a witness. The healed man begs (same word in 5:19 as in 5:17) to go “with him” (Jesus). He begs to be with Jesus while the people begged for Jesus to put some distance between him and them. The healed man wants to become a disciple of Jesus. To be “with” Jesus is technical language for intimate discipleship, perhaps becoming one of the Twelve (see 3:14 where Jesus chooses Twelve to be “with him”).

But Jesus denies his request. Rather, Jesus wants him to stay behind in the Decapolis to bear witness to God’s mighty act of healing and the mercy God bestowed. This raises several questions. Why does Jesus direct him to tell the good news of his healing while he asked others to remain quiet? Why does not Jesus say “follow me” to this grateful believer?

The answer probably lies in the geographical and social context of the healing. The Decapolis is a Gentile region. There is no need to keep a Messianic secret here since the danger of a militant, Jewish uprising does not exist. More than likely, the healed man was himself a Gentile and thus could not be one of the Twelve ministering among the people of Israel. His witness was best utilized in his homeland, and his witness was effective. When the people heard it, they were “amazed.”

Jesus sailed to a Gentile land, perhaps to escape the Jewish crowds on the western shores of the lake. He entered an unclean land, encountered an unclean man living in unclean tombs and possessed by an unclean spirit, and sent the unclean spirits into unclean animals. Jesus enacted the kingdom of God as he purified what was unclean and defeated hostile powers. Jesus demonstrateed the kingdom of God among the Gentiles.

Jesus restored the dignity of a human being to whom the good news of the kingdom of God was announced and enacted.

As we read this story, it calls us to place ourselves within it. Perhaps we are the unclean human who needs the good news, or having received healing must bear witness to the mercy of God. Perhaps, however, we are the people of the land who, fearful of the amazing work of God, resist commitment to the kingdom of God. Perhaps, most importantly, we are called to follow Jesus and restore the dignity of human beings whenever we find people mistreated, isolated or marginalized. Perhaps we find a little of all three in ourselves. May God have mercy.

Mark 5:21-43 — Jesus Saves the Unclean

Almost comically, Jesus is ferried back to the western side of the lack (presumably near Capernaum) apparently just after he arrived on the eastern shore. He was asked to leave and he left, but he finds himself again in the middle of a “large crowd” on the western shore. It seems as if Jesus can find no respite.

A desperate leader named Jairus emerges from the crowd to beg Jesus for the life of his daughter. He is a prominent person—one of the officials in the local synagogue. He is described in this way four times as if to emphasize his role in the community. Despite his public persona, the ruler prostrated himself before Jesus and begged him “greatly” (excessively or intensely). Jairus fears for his daughter’s life but believes Jesus can reverse her fortunes. Jairus begs Jesus to, literally, “save” her so that she might live. To snatch another from the jars of death is to “save” them—Mark does not use the word for healing, but for salvation. More on this in a moment.

As Jesus walks with him to his home, the huge crowd pressed him on every side. We might imagine the picture of a rock star attempting to move through paparazzi from the car to the hotel. Jesus is surrounded, perhaps jostled, by the crowd. They may want to see what will happen at the house of Jairus. But some, at least one, had another motive. She just wanted to touch Jesus.

Mark slows down the narrative to give us a thorough description of this woman’s situation. She is diseased, impoverished and unclean. Her condition grows worse as her resources and hope diminish. She, too, is desperate. She had exhausted her resources on “many doctors” who could do nothing for her. Her frustration was no doubt great as well as her fear. Her condition involved some kind of constant bleeding which made her continually impure or unclean. Having heard about Jesus, and no doubt having heard that others had been healed by touching him (cf. Mark 3:10), she just wanted to touch Jesus.

And she did, and she was saved (5:28) which is immediate freedom from her suffering (literally, plague or misfortune). She was healed and relieved. She knew it immediately and so did Jesus. He stopped, turned around and asked who touched him–a question the disciples found incredulous.

Why is Jesus so curious about who connected with his “power”? Perhaps he wanted her to witness to the healing for the sake of the crowd. But is it not likely that there were more than just this woman who had been healed by touch? Perhaps there was something particular about this woman that significantly reveals the kingdom of God at work. Perhaps Mark calls attention to this healing because it further illuminates a theme in this section of his Gospel.

She is unclean, just as the demonic spirits were in the previous story. Though healed, she is afraid, just as the disciples were afraid after the calming of the storm and the public was afraid of Jesus after the demons destroyed the pig herd. But in contrast to those two stories, she has faith. She believed that Jesus could heal her and her faith, literally, “saves” her—in both body and soul. Just as Jesus restored peace to the demoniac, so he restored peace to this daughter of Israel.

What is salvation? In this story it is the renewal of peace, the healing of the body—freedom from suffering, and the restoration of human dignity as this woman will no longer live in isolation and fear due to her uncleanness. Salvation is holistic; it is the reversal of all that is broken and the renewal of all that God intends for human beings.

Inviting our hearts to celebrate this healing, the narrative immediately turns desperate again. Messengers announce that Jairus’ daughter has died.

Jesus’ reassurance to Jairus further illuminates the narrative. “Don’t be afraid; only believe.” Faith alone—trust me, Jesus says. Death is no obstacle any more than diseases or demons are. Fear disrupts the peace of the kingdom of God but faith is the means by which the kingdom breaks into the world. While the disciples are learning to trust, learning to believe, the diseased woman and the grieving father exhibit authentic faith. The ruler leads Jesus to his house.

Interestingly, Jesus separates himself from not only the crowd but from the Twelve. He only takes Peter, James and John with him to Jairus’ home. This is the first indication of an inner circle among the disciples; we might call these Jesus’ intimates. These three share experiences with Jesus that the others do not. They not only go to the house but they are also present in the room when Jesus speaks to Jairus’ daughter. Everyone, even Jesus, needs human intimacy in the form of close friendships.

Mourners (perhaps professional mourners?) are already present when they arrive at the house. Mark describes the scene as a “commotion” or uproar (what officials feared in Mark 14:2) filled with wailing and weeping. And yet when Jesus assures them that there is no need for such a scene because the girl is only sleeping, they ridicule him. The contrast between mourning and scornful laughing is stark. But their emotions will soon move to astonishment–a Greek word from which we derive our English word “ecstasy.”

Jesus, alone with the parents and the three disciples, speaks to the girl in Aramaic which Mark translates for his readers—“Little girl, get up.” Immediately the twelve year old girl obeyed, just as the demons obeyed and just as the winds and the waves obeyed. Jesus reigns over death, demons, diseases and natural chaos. The kingdom of God—the reign of God—is present in Jesus.

Jesus “saves” two daughters of Israel. One is healed of a disease; the other is raised from the dead. Both were unclean and Jesus purified them. Who is this that heals diseases and raises the dead? He is a savior; he is the redemptive presence of Yahweh in the midst of Israel.

Who is this? The disciples asked the question in 4:41. Mark’s narrative answers the question. The God of Israel saves through Jesus. The kingdom of God has come near and it reigns over evil and chaos. The reign of God saves.

Mark 6:1-13 — Hometown Rejection and Missional Action

Jesus leaves the shores of the Galilean lake and enters the Galilean hills east of the lake. Numerous Jewish villages, as well as a few Greco-Roman cities (like Sepphoris), dotted the hills of Galilee. One of those villages was Jesus’ own home town of Nazareth (Mark 1:9, 24). This is not necessarily the first time Jesus returned to his origins, but if this is a separate incident from Luke 4, it had a very similar result. One might imagine that Jesus would visit his mother and family on occasion, especially as he ministered nearby.

The contrasts between Capernaum and Nazareth are significant. Jesus taught in both synagogues on the Sabbath (1:21) and both audiences were “amazed” (1:22). However, that is where the similarities end. While in Capernaum they marveled at this teaching authority, in Nazareth they questioned his audacity. While in Capernaum huge crowds followed him, in Nazareth they were scandalized by his presence and teaching. While in Capernaum Jesus healed all the sick brought to him (1:32), in Nazareth he only healed a few.

The hometown folks are unimpressed. They recognize him as a common carpenter (a wood-worker) and the son of Mary. Perhaps Joseph was already dead at this point and thus Mary is the focus of his parentage. (Another textual tradition in Mark calls him the “carpenter’s son” but the better reading is “Is this not the carpenter, the son of Mary?”) The question, however, is disparaging and demeaning. Jesus is not only a blue-collar laborer but his mother is Mary who conceived Jesus before she was married–we might imagine a stigma might still be attached to her. Jesus is not simply “one of us”—like his brothers and sisters—but his origins are perhaps considered shameful. Jesus is no one special and he certainly does not have the authority to call these hometown folks to “repent and believe” (1:15).

Apparently, the family of Jesus is part of the synagogue audience or at least well-known in the environs. Mary, four brothers (named as James, Joses, Judas and Simon), and an unidentified number of sisters are referenced by the synagogue attendees. In the late fourth century, Jerome suggested that these “brothers and sisters” were actually cousins and Epiphanius at the same time suggested that they were Joseph’s children but not Mary’s. But there is no biblical reason why they could not be the children of Mary and Joseph after the birth of Jesus and thus Jesus’ younger siblings.

Jesus’ response to the reaction of the synagogue’s audience includes his family, most likely his siblings rather than his mother (though we cannot rule out that she thought him a bit “out of his mind” as in Mark 5:21, 31. The proverbial line that a prophet is not without honor except in his own country (city of Nazareth) is extended to include his relatives and his house (where he lives). It seems true everywhere, “you can’t go home.” The memories of childhood and old stereotypes remain, and those hinder any recognition of how a hometown child might have excelled.

Mark characterizes the synagogue’s response as “unbelief.” Whereas Jairus believed and the woman who touched Jesus believed, his hometown does not. Faith was a key ingredient in the Galilean stories in chapter five but is lacking here. Just as many marveled at the witness of the demoniac in Mark 5:20, so Jesus marveled at the unbelief of his hometown folks.

Why does not Jesus conduct a healing ministry here? It would be unwise to read Jesus’ inability here as some sort of metaphysical reality, that is, he did not have the power to heal in this situation. It is perhaps better to read this as a decision by Jesus. Since his message was rejected and he was personally demeaned, Jesus refused to conduct a healing ministry in Nazareth. Jesus is not interested in being a side-show or a crusading miracle-worker which might only solidify their unbelief and harden their hearts in any event. In this sense, he cannot heal in Nazareth. Where there was no receptivity, Jesus moved on (as he counseled his disciples in 6:11); but even this is not absolute here since he did heal a few.

Leaving Nazareth, Jesus becomes a “circuit rider” preacher. He travels around the Galilean villages teaching about the kingdom of God (cf. 1:14, 28), just as he had done in Nazareth. Given the context, Jesus is not only widening his Galilean ministry but is also apprenticing the Twelve which enables him to widen it even more.

Jesus called the Twelve “apostles” (“ones sent”) in Mark 3:14 because he intended to send them into the field in order to participate in his mission. Jesus now widens his ministry by sending the Twelve out in pairs. They will extend the mission of Jesus from village to village. Six pairs can cover more territory in Galilee than one group led by Jesus.

The Twelve fully share in the missional ministry of Jesus—they “herald” the good news of the kingdom in order to turn the people toward repentance. They proclaim the same message as Jesus: the kingdom of God is near; repent and believe the good news (Mark 1:14-15). The Twelve fully share in the missional ministry of Jesus—they demonstrate the presence of the kingdom of God by exorcizing demons and healing the sick (Mark 1:34). The Twelve were given “authority over unclean spirits” just as Jesus had authority over them—Jesus shared the authority of the kingdom of God with the disciples (Mark 1:27; 3:15). The Twelve are full participants in the kingdom ministry of Jesus.

Why does Jesus restrict their travel baggage? They are forbidden to take extra clothing (tunic), food, money (and begging for money, that is, the beggar’s bag is excluded), but they are permitted sandals and a walking staff. In general, we see an emphasis on total dependence. The Twelve are to trust God for their provisions. The disciples are on probation; they are hereby tested.

However, more is going on here. Going out in pairs may reflect the requirement for truthful testimony in the Torah (Deuteronomy 17:6), but the significance of their sending and the restrictions mirrors God’s instructions to Israel as they left Egypt. In Exodus 12:11 Israel is instructed to eat with tunic, sandals and staff in hand for their flight out of Egypt, and then in the wilderness they depend upon God’s provision. The disciples, as new Israel—a remnant of Twelve, go out among the people to herald a new Exodus which is the inbreaking of the kingdom of God.

The Twelve are also given a criterion for staying or leaving in a particular village. If they are welcomed, they stay and practice the kingdom of God by heralding and healing. If they are rejected, they leave for another village. To shake the dust of the feet was a symbolic gesture of disassociation and judgment. If the village rejects God’s missionaries, they heap upon themselves their own judgment.

Jesus himself faced rejection and unbelief. The disciples will face the same. Not everyone will accept the message. If they will not listen to Jesus, they will not listen to the disciples. As we follow Jesus, sometimes we are welcomed and sometimes we are rejected. Nevertheless, we have a mission as Jesus has invited us to participate in his redemptive mission.

A Child is Born (Isaiah 9:1-7)

That was no place for a child. In the darkest days of Jerusalem’s despair, God told Jeremiah to neither marry nor have children (Jeremiah 16:2). That world—the world of Jerusalem’s destruction—is no place for children. All that would await them was pain, horror, gloom, dislocation, and destruction. Even now it may sometimes seem that the world is too horrible for children, especially if you are living in parts of the developing world like the Sudan.

When Isaiah confronted Ahaz in Isaiah 7-12, it was no place for children. The future was dark. And, yet, the hopeful promise is that a “child is born” (Isaiah 9:6). The birth of a child will signal the rise of hope and secure a future filled with righteousness, justice and peace.

At time of Isaiah 9, Judah was in national decline. Its king, Ahaz, had made an alliance with the foreign power Assyria but that alliance eventually enslaved him and the nation as they suffered under their oppressive yoke. Ahaz empowered foreign gods as he sacrificed his own children in the fires of Molech and honored the gods on their high places. He replaced the Yahwehist bronze temple altar with an Assyrian style altar (2 Kings 16). Judah lived in darkness, gloom and eventually under the yoke of Assyrian power. Ahaz trusted the empire of his day rather than Yahweh (Isaiah 7).

Judah, living under that yoke, fought alongside Assyria against Israel (the northern kingdom and Syria [Aram]). They put on their warrior boots and blood stained their clothes. They became complicit in Assyria’s imperial agenda. Instead of trusting in God’s deliverance, they took up the sword and sided with the imperial power. [The Hebrew word for “boots” is an Assyrian loanword—the uniform of the empire.] But this brought them nothing but oppression as the imperial power ruled them as well. It rendered Judah a mere vassal.

Judah lacked hope. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. They yearned for a Midian-like liberation. The “day of Midian” lived long in the memory of Israel. They remembered how God delivered Israel from the hands of the Midianites through Gideon and three hundred non-combatants (Judges 7). The Lord fought for Israel that day; God won the battle as the Midianites self-destructed.

Isaiah announced hope. He says to Judah that a day will come when they will see light at the end of the tunnel. Moreover, they will bask in the light of God’s liberation. They will rejoice like at the harvest, like on a day when they divide the spoils of battle.  They will rejoice because they will burn their GI boots and uniforms.

How can Judah rid themselves of their warrior posture? Are they not still in danger of the empire? Do not enemies surround them? How can fear let go and Judah simply trust Yahweh?

Isaiah provides the reason:  a child is born. A new king will take his seat on the throne of David. His reign is described. It is a vision of the future; a future where peace, justice and righteousness are permanent—not only permanent but eternal.  This king is named or—as some think—the God of the king is named. Either way, the reign of God is described.

These names are probably royal titles—titles that perhaps Hezekiah himself might wear as the one through whom God delivers Judah from Assyrian power. But I think we must also lift our horizon to the distant future to a time when light came to the regions of Galilee in the person of Jesus (Matthew 4:12-17).  Hezekiah typified the coming reality of the kingdom of God in Jesus—a child who was born in Nazareth of Galilee where the light first dawned just as it was the place where the darkness first descended. The child of Isaiah 9 is the same as the one named “Immanuel” in Isaiah 7

• Wonderful Counselor!   A king whose wisdom, counsel and plans produce wonder among the people. They are amazed by the king’s guidance and direction (cf. Isaiah 28:9).
• Mighty God!  A king whose power and strength comes from God. He reigns with divine right and by divine power (cf. Isaiah 10:21).
• Father Forever!  A king who rules like a benevolent father—a father who will never abandon or forsake his people (cf. Isaiah 63:16).
• Prince of Peace!  A king who will reign with peace; he will ensure peace and bring peace to his reign (Isaiah 11:6-9).

A child is born! A king reigns! In Jesus, God has come to reign. He comes to bring justice, righteousness and peace. Fear dissipates; darkness is lifted. Light has dawned.

How do we let go of fear? Fear drives us to places where we never imagined we would go. Fear leads us into addictions where we hope to escape our fears and pains. Fear creates worry and worry drives us to do things we would not normally do. Fear drives us to self-interestedness; it drives us to violence. Fear motivates us to violate our own moral and ethical boundaries as we try to create our own stability.

We are now entering a new political season. In less than one year we will elect a President. Fear fills the air as we accuse and excuse political leaders. We become consumed with the idea that the fate of the nation is in the hands of whoever we elect to the Presidency. We worry and we argue. We are afraid—afraid of who might get elected or who might not be reelected. We fear that the world is falling apart and that darkness—whether economic gloom or terror/war—reigns. Fear puts trust in princes and empires but faith trusts God.

How do we let go of this fear? We trust that the zeal of the Lord will accomplish his purposes. God will liberate. God will bring justice. God will bring peace.  We trust the king.

Hear the word of the Lord, my friends:  “a child is born.” This child is our king; this one is our hope. Here is where our allegiance lies.  Our allegiance is primarily to the kingdom of God rather than the kingdom of the United States.  We pledge allegiance to the kingdom of God—we seek first that kingdom of God.

Jesus is the Prince of Peace. This allegiance is primary. It seems to me that this is an exclusive allegiance since to serve the empire (state) with the sword is to prioritize the state over the kingdom of God. It is to side with the empire rather than with the Prince of Peace.

A child is born. Born to transform our lives. Born to change the world. Born to burn uniforms.  If Jesus is the “Prince of Peace,” how can we pursue a warrior agenda?

Mark 6:14-29 — A Martyr for the Kingdom of God

Jesus’ renown has grown. As he moved his ministry into the Galilean hills rather than simply around the Galilean lake and he sent his disciples in six teams throughout the villages in those hills, his fame increased. Even some political leaders were beginning to take notice. Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee in the north and Perea in the south, noticed.

Herod Antipas, a son of Herod the Great, ruled from 4 BCE to 39 CE. The narrator calls him a “king,” but officially he was the tetrarch (the ruler of a fourth of his father’s kingdom–the purple area in the map below). Perhaps the title “king” is mocking Herod since he was removed from his position precisely because he requested the title of “king.” Or perhaps it was simply popular usage in Palestine. Whatever the case, for the first time, a political leader has taken an interest in Jesus.

Herod is concerned with the same question the disciples asked, “Who is this?” Some opponents have already called him a blasphemer or an ally of Satan. But others thought he was Elijah, the one who would come before the Messiah. Still others thought he was simply another prophet. But Herod had his own opinion: “This is John the Baptist whom I beheaded and is now risen from the dead.” Wow! Why would he think that?

John was imprisoned in Perea just about the time that Jesus began his ministry in Galilee (Mark 1:14) and it appears that Herod did not become aware of Jesus until after John was already dead. But what Herod heard about Jesus reminded him of John. Perhaps their preaching about the kingdom of God, righteousness, and judgment was so similar. Perhaps Herod thought Jesus’ miracles were evidence of a resurrected John. No doubt this instilled fear in Herod. Had John returned to judge Herod? Herod needed to know who Jesus was because he had killed John.

The Gospel uses this moment in the narrative to tell its readers the rest of John’s story. It is a martyr story–the first of two in the Gospel: first John, then Jesus. Both leading heralds of the kingdom of God within the Gospel are martyred. Both killed by political leaders. Empires oppose the kingdom of God. Mark’s original readers know this all too well as they suffer from Roman persecution.

Herod imprisoned John in response to his preaching–for the sake of his wife, Herodias. Herod had divorced his wife and married his half-brother Philip’s wife (and another half-brother Philip would eventually marry Herodias’daughter, Herod’s step-daughter). Levitical law explicitly forbade this (Leviticus 18:16; 20:21). Herod himself was not Jewish (his mother was Samaritan) but his wife was. John’s rebuke must have deeply offended her. He was imprisoned to silence him but Herodias wanted him dead.

Herod, however, was fascinated with John. He sensed John was a godly man and he enjoyed listening to his preaching. But when he heard him, Herod was disturbed or disquieted. It gnawed at him and worried him. When Herod heard about Jesus, this worry surfaced again. Politically, John had to be silenced, but existentially Herod knew there was more to John than met the eye. He played the middle of the road–he kept him safe in prison.

Herodias, however, wanted him silenced permanently and her opportunity eventually came through her daughter Salome. (We know her name from Josephus, Antiquities, 18.5.4.)

Herod invited his governmental officials and leaders from Galilee and Perea to a birthday banquet at his palace fortress in Machaerus (in Perea on the eastern side of the Dead Sea) where John was imprisoned. Such Roman banquets were lavish and often extended for days.

But this banquet is infamous for the dance of Salome. Unfortunately, we don’t know much about the dance itself. Many have understood it as an erotic dance, but this is unnecessary. In fact, it appears that Salome was between twelve and fourteen (cf. Harold Hoehner, Herod Antipas, 154-156). Even Romans would have viewed an erotic dance by the young daughter of the “king” as unseemly. It is more likely that she was an exceptional talent and enthralled her audience, especially Herod. Her young age is perhaps indicated as well by the fact that she consulted her mother about how she should respond to Herod’s response to her performance.

His gesture was a typical exaggerated offer from one of higher rank to one of lower rank (cf. 1 Kings 13:8; Esther 5:3, 6; 7:2; Luke 19:8). It was as if I had said to my daughter, “I’ll give you anything you want” but with the pre-understanding that there are limits to that gesture.

She requested, at her mother’s instigation, John’s head on a platter–no doubt an allusion to the banquet setting. Herod reluctantly conceded to the request as he could not deny her given his boast in front of all his officials. He could not lose face in their presence.

John was martyred. He died for the sake of the kingdom of God. He was killed by a political leader. He was killed because, as a righteous person, he proclaimed righteousness.

We might imagine that the disciples of Jesus knew this story. Some of them had followed John before Jesus called them. John’s disciples buried Jesus and the beheading of John was public knowledge; the news may have spread through the officials present. (Josephus, Antiquities, 18.5.2, notes the ministry and execution of John.)

We might imagine that the disciples of Jesus remembered the execution of John when they realized that Jesus, too, was headed to death. The disciples fled in terror before the prospect of such an end. Peter denied Jesus.

Heralds of the Kingdom of God die. Peacemakers are put to death. Disciples of Jesus are persecuted. Jesus was martyred; his disciples were martyred. Announcing the reign of God is often heard with hostility, opposition and ridicule. Jesus’ call to “take up your cross and follow me” perhaps does not sound so easy after all.

The Holy Spirit and Unity in Stone-Campbell Perspective

On November 7, 2011, I met with the Stone-Campbell Dialogue in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Interested persons from the Disciples of Christ, Christian Church/Churches of Christ and Churches of Christ met for some dialogue, fellowship and service in the community. This was the sixteenth time the Dialogue has met. It was the second time I had been invited to present a paper as the focus of discussion.

I presented a paper on the role of the Holy Spirit in the praxis of unity drawing upon Stone-Campbell resources in our common history.  The paper is not intended to be a final statement of any sort but rather a tentative discussion starter.

Spirit and Unity Presentation Stone-Campbell Dialogue 2011

Meeting God at the Shack — Published on Kindle

Since the publication of William Young’s book The Shack in the light of my own personal journey into the world of spiritual recovery (which I experienced in 2008).  I found much in Young’s novel that paralleled my own experience.

My friend, Bob Lewis, prepared a kindle edition of my reflections on this journey.  It is now available on Kindle entitled:  Meeting God at the Shack: A Journey into Spiritual Recovery.

For those who have read my previous material on God, faith and suffering (such as Yet Will I Trust Him or Anchors for the Soul), this book is a continuation of my journey. I think it is more profound and more mature than my previous writings on the subject. It is, nevertheless, still ultimately inadequate as an “answer” to the struggle of life, faith and peace in human hearts, including my own. Nevertheless, God offers peace even when there are no “answers”.

The first part of this book discusses spiritual recovery while the second part addresses some of the theological questions that concern many. But even in the second part I am much more interested in how this parable and the theological questions it raises offer an entrance into the substantial themes of divine love, forgiveness, healing and hope. These are the main concerns of the book.

I think the question the novel addresses is this:  How do wounded people come to believe that God really is “especially fond” of them?

Only after reading the book through this lens are we able to understand how Young uses some rather unconventional metaphors to deepen his point.

My interest is to unfold the story of recovery in The Shack as I experienced it through my own journey. So, I invite you to walk with me through the maze of grief, hurt, and pain as we, through experiencing Mackenzie’s shack, face our own “shacks.”

Mark 6:30-44 — A Missional Table

Jesus sent (apostellein) his disciples with authority over demons and diseases (6:7). The apostles (apostoloi) returned reporting what “they had done and taught.” They followed Jesus into the practice of the kingdom of God—announcing the coming reign of God and demonstrating that reign by wondrous acts of mercy. The twelve had become apostles (cf. 3:14—they had been sent) who heralded and enacted the kingdom of God.

But now they needed rest. The crowd—no doubt swelled by the activity of the apostles in the Galilean hills—hindered their self-care, that is, they could not even find time to eat. Jesus suggested that they go to the “desert.” This is the same word as in Mark 1:12-13 when Jesus was tested by Satan in the wilderness. It is also the same word the narrator used to describe Jesus’ withdrawal to pray (1:35) or to avoid crowds (1:45).

Jesus recognizes that the Twelve need some “alone time,” perhaps some quality time, with himself. Returning from traveling among the villages of the Galilean hills, they now needed some “rest.” Jesus is not “all work and no play;” rather, there are times for re-creation when we stop what we are doing and seek refreshment. The mission demands that sometimes missionaries should rest. So, they got into a boat and went to a deserted place on the Galilean shore.

But the crowds were like sheep without a shepherd. Or better, they followed Jesus like sheep that recognized their shepherd. They hurried along the shore as the followed the trajectory of the boat and they picked up others “from all the towns.” When Jesus landed, the crowds were not far behind. A large crowd met him, just as before in Mark’s narrative (3:7-8; 4:1; 5:21).

Jesus recognized their intensity and helplessness. They ran as they followed the boat—they would not let him go, and they seemed to Jesus as sheep without a shepherd—helpless, confused without a leader, and endangered by that lack of leadership. And Jesus loved them, just as he loved the leper earlier (1:41). So, he led them; the mission continued and sometimes the missional needs of others dictate a change of plans. Jesus led these sheep—he taught them, announcing the coming kingdom of God….and he fed them.

How do you feed 5,000 men (andres—the word for males), not counting women and children if they were present? The disciples were puzzled by the same question. The mission had to stop, the disciples think. The fellowship had to break up so the crowds could go home or scatter among the villages to find food. But Jesus has a different idea.

“You give them something to eat,” Jesus says to his apostles. They were missional disciples; they had been sent on a mission and the mission was also in front of them now. Feed the sheep! That is their mission. Here is a test for his newly formed missional community. Can they see the possibilities that Jesus sees?

Alas, they could not, much as we often do not. They can only see the limitations. “It would take almost a year’s salary to feed these people.” They do not have the resources, so they think. But Jesus assesses the resources—“you have five loaves of bread and two fish. That’s enough.”

The Shepherd gathers his sheep (cf. Ezek. 34:26-29). He sits them down in green pastures (cf. Psalm 23:1). He organizes them into small groups (cf. Exodus 18:21). Just as God fed Israel in the wilderness (Exodus 16), so Jesus feeds Israel in this deserted place. Twelve “basketfuls” (a word describing a wicker lunch box) were collected–twelve, of course, corresponds to the apostles who represent the twelve clans of Israel.

Mark’s account not only functions as a “filling to the full” (fulfillment) of God’s provision for Israel; it also anticipates the table in the kingdom of God. Indeed, as a meal which Jesus hosts, breaks bread and eats with his people, it is already a table in the kingdom of God. Everyone, including Jesus, eats, and everyone eats with Jesus. They eat what Jesus has provided.

The language of this table is eucharistic. Jesus takes the bread (and two fishes), blesses God (giving thanks), breaks the bread (symbolic distribution), and gives it. This is the language of the Last Supper where the exact same verbs are used (Mark 14:22). It is the language of the Christian Eucharist.

The symbol of bread, fish and a cup of red wine was common in early Christian art. One of the most significant was found in the crypt of Lucina in the catacomb of Callistus (early third century). The fish probably represented Jesus as well and may have been part of their eucharistic meals in the early centuries.

Christian readers, and narrative readers of Mark, should not miss the theological significance of this moment in the story. God provided food and ate with Israel in the wilderness. Jesus provided food and ate with the people in this wilderness. Jesus gives his life as food and eats with the church as it journeys in the wilderness on its way to the fullness of the kingdom of God.

When we eat and drink together as disciples, we sit at a eucharistic table. We give thanks for the provision of life we have in Jesus.

We also sit at a missional table. Jesus gave his disciples a mission: feed the sheep. They failed; “they did not understand…their hearts were hardened” (14:52). Nevertheless, Jesus ate with them as well as the 5,000.

Whereas Jesus went into the wilderness to rest with his disciples, he ends up providing rest for Israel. We are invited into that rest.

The table invites everyone to sit at the feet of Jesus—to hear his message and eat with him. His provision is sufficient. His love is welcoming. His message is hopeful. “The kingdom of God is near! Come, rest and eat with me.”

Mark 6:45-56 — Divine Presence

The Galilean hills were evangelized through heralding and enacting the kingdom. 5,000 males were fed with five loaves and two fish actualizing table fellowship within the kingdom. And now, apparently, the healded and fed expected something more. Perhaps they intended to crown Jesus king (cf. John 6:14-15) and inaugurate a rebellion against Roman authority.

“Immediately,” signaling the critical nature of the present situation, Jesus put his disciples in a boat and sent them back across the lake…without him. Jesus dismissed the crowd and withdrew to pray alone. These actions reflect a crisis. Previously, the crowds of Capernaum moved Jesus to seek solitude (Mark 1:38-39) as will the looming shadow of the cross in Gethsemane (Mark 14:26-42). Perhaps here Jesus seeks solitude in light of a potential violent uprising. Perhaps Jesus was tempted, as he was in the wilderness, to secure power through violent revolution. But this is not the kind of kingdom Jesus headed; he would give his life as a ransom for many rather than take the life of others in the interest of nationalism (Mark 10:45).

Eventually Jesus notices that his disciples “in the middle of the lake” were struggling to reach the other side because of strong headwinds. It was early in the morning—nearing dawn between 3:00-6:00 AM—when Jesus approached them. The narrative leads us to think that Jesus saw them in distress and decided to go to them to help, but a curious statement appears in the narrative: Jesus “was about to pass by them” (NIV). This seems at odds with Jesus intent to help.

Jesus, the text literally says, “wanted to pass by them.” Jesus intends to “pass by.” The question is what does “pass by” mean. This is highly theological language; it is the language of theophany. At two critical moments in Israel’s history God “passed by” two leaders—leaders who will appear with Jesus in Mark 9 on the mount of transfiguration. God “passed by” Moses (Exodus 33:19, 22) and God “passed by” Elijah (1 Kings 19:11). In both texts God appears to them and reveals his divine presence. This is what Jesus intends to do here. Moreover, the language of Job 9:8, 11 lies in the background: the God who walks upon the seas also passes by his people though he is unrecognized.

Walking on water was not some theatrical stunt. It was not simply to shorten the distance from walking on land around the lake. He was not saving himself time or egotistically displaying his power. Rather, it was a divine appearance for the sake of his disciples; a theophany to assure the disciples of God’s love and care and to relieve their stress in the midst of their struggle. This is a gracious, redemptive moment.

But the disciples don’t recognize it. Their response is fear as they probably expected death. It was common in ancient (including Jewish) lore that the appearance of a “ghost on the sea” was a prelude to imminent death. Instead of being comforted by a divine theophany, they are “troubled,” that is, agitated or distressed.

Jesus clams their fears by identifying himself, and this identification is theologically significant in light of the theophany. He says three things: (1) Be of good courage! (2) I am! (3) Don’t be afraid! Jesus says ego eimi, “I am.” This is the language of Yahweh’s self-revelation in Exodus 3. As William Lane notes in his commentary (p. 237), encouraging good cheer and dispelling fear are part of the formula for divine self-disclosure (cf. Psalm 115:9ff; 118:5; Isaiah 41:4ff, 13ff; 43:1ff; 44:2ff; 51:9ff). Jesus is not simply affirming his own human presence but assuring them of God’s presence.

When he steps into the boat, the winds cease. God reigns over the chaotic waves. Just as the chaos was calmed in Mark 4:35-41, so here the winds were quieted in response to divine presence. Jesus does not even speak; his presence is sufficient in this instance.

But the disciples do not recognize it; they do not understand the identity of Jesus. They did not understand the loaves and fishes. They are missing the point. Jesus enacts the kingdom of God—feeding the hungry in the wilderness and appears on the water to calm the sea. It was as if the disciples were in the wilderness with Israel as they saw God’s sovereignty over the water at the Red Sea and were fed by manna. They don’t “see” what Jesus is teaching by his dramatic acts. The disciples don’t understand because their hearts are “hard.” This is a chilling comment as the hearts of Jesus’ opponents were also hard (Mark 3:5). Our expectations sometimes hinder us from seeing what God is doing because we are looking for the wrong things or in the wrong places.

The disciples are dull; they are slow to see the answer to the question they asked in Mark 4:41. He stills the waves and they don’t see. He heals the sick and they don’t understand. He feeds the multitude and they don’t catch a glimpse. He appears on the waters and they don’t recognize who he is. They fail to see that Yahweh is among them.

As we enter this story, we are invited to see though we often do not. We are often no different from the disciples. We live in fear rather than faith. We don’t embrace who Jesus is; we would rather control our own lives even when they are unmanageable. We see “ghosts” rather than God’s own presence among us.

And yet Jesus continues to enact the kingdom. The sluggish faith of the disciples does not deter him. They land on the Galilean shore near Gennesaret (on the northwest corner of the lake) and soon the people swamp Jesus. They “knew” him, filled the  marketplaces with the sick, and Jesus healed them.

The ministry of the kingdom of God continues. Jesus travelled through villages, cities and the countryside and everywhere he went they brought him the sick and he healed them, even if only by the touch of his garment.

Jesus is not deterred by the weak faith of his disciples and neither does he exclude them. He continues to apprentice them in the ministry of the kingdom of God. And that grace continues among us even now, even when we don’t understand because of the hardness of our own hearts.

Handel’s Messiah: A Missional Reading I

Handel’s Messiah is a musical proclamation of the gospel, the good news of the kingdom of God.

My wife and I, along with my sister-in-law Melanie Crotty, attended the Nashville Symphony’s performance of the Messiah last Friday evening. We used this to celebrate Melanie’s graduation from Lipscomb’s Hazelip School of Theology. We were all enthralled with the presentation.

George Frideric Handel (1685-1759) composed the Messiah in three weeks and was first performed in Dublin, Ireland in the Spring of 1742. It is an oratorio rather than an opera. The former combines the entertainment value of the latter with moral exhortation. While an opera is musical theatre, an oratorio is a concert piece that is more appropriate for “sacred” settings. The first performance of the Messiah in London was controversial because it was a “sacred” piece offered in a “secular” locale.

It is a musical proclamation of the good news of the kingdom of God. Part I moves us from the prophetic anticipation of the coming kingdom through the appearance of the Christ child to a conclusion in the ministry of Jesus. Part II begins with the passion of Jesus through his resurrection to his exaltation as reigning Lord.  Part III, the shortest, is humanity’s response to God’s redemptive act and is focused on the hope of resurrection which leads to a final praise of the Lamb.

The text weaves Scripture quotations into a coherent plot that tells the story of the coming kingdom. The Messiah is King of Kings and Lord of Lords as the “Hallelujah Chorus” announces that the “kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ.”

This plot is a missional one, that is, it draws us into the story of God’s intent to shake the kingdoms of this world with God’s own reign.

• “all flesh shall see [the glory of the Lord] together”
• “I will shake all nations; and the desire of all nations shall come”
• “the Gentiles shall come to they light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising”
• “Prince of Peace”
• “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, goodwill towards men”
• “He is the righteous Saviour, and He shall speak peace unto the heathen”
• “and He will give you rest”
• “He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows”
• “He trusted in God that He would deliver Him”
• “But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell”
• “Who is the King of Glory? The Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory”
• “Why do the nations so furiously rage together”
• “The kings of the earth rise up, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His anointed”
• “Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron”
• “He shall reign for ever and ever. King of Kings. Lord of Lords.”
• “I know my Redeemer lives”
• “”yet in my flesh I shall see”
• “We shall all be changed”
• “Worthy is the Lamb…to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing”
• “Blessing and honour, glory and pow’r, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for  ever and ever.

The reign of God means a different allegiance, a different power, a different kind of life–one of peace, rest and healing. The King has come; the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of God.

Over three coming posts I will examine each Part of Handel’s Messiah. 

Handel’s Messiah: A Missional Reading II

Part I moves us from the prophetic anticipation of the coming kingdom through the appearance of the Christ child to a conclusion in the ministry of Jesus.  At the heart of this movement is a missional vision–God comes to give rest to the nations.

Handel weaves together texts from Isaiah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, Luke and Matthew to tell this story. He uses the following and in this order:

• Isaiah 40:1-2a, 3-5
• Haggai 2:6-7a
• Malachi 3:1b-3
• Matthew 1:23 (quoting Isaiah 7:14)
• Isaiah 40:9
• Isaiah 60:1
• Isaiah 9:2, 6
• Luke 2:8-11, 13-14
• Zechariah 9:9a, 10b
• Isaiah 35:5-6a
• Isaiah 40:11
• Matthew 11:28-30

Isaiah 40–the announcement of good news to Israel in Babylon–frames and punctuates Part I. God is going to act–leveling every mountain and exalting every valley in order to make a level highway through the wilderness, and “all flesh” will see the glory of God (40:1-5).  The good news is that God will come again to Jerusalem (40:9). God will gather his lambs and carry them in his arms (40:11). This the shape of Park 1.  We anticipate the coming of God, God comes in the flesh, and the incarnate God shepherd leads us to peace and rest.

At the center is the incarnation, a child is born (Isaiah 9:6).  Previous to this choral announcement of the birth is prophetic anticipation (Matthew 1:23 quoting Isaiah 7:14) and following it is celebration (Luke 2:8-11, 13-14; Zechariah 9:9a. 10b).

The choice of Haggai and Malachi in the first third of Part I is significant. The prophets anticipate that when God comes he will “shake the nations” (Haggai 2:7a) and “purify the sons of Levi” (Malachi 3:3). As a result, “all nations shall come” (Haggai 2:7a) and Israel will worship “in righteousness” (Malachi 3:3). This shaking and refining has cosmic dimensions. When God comes to his temple, everything will change.

The incarnation is pictured as the coming of light into the darkness. “Darkness covers the earth,” but the light of God arrives–”thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen” upon the earth (Isaiah 60:1-2). This is the good news of Isaiah 40:9. And the light that has come is equated with the birth of the child (Isaiah 9:6). Significantly, “the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising” (Isaiah 60:3).

The choral arrangement of Isaiah 9:6 is thrilling and a highlight of Part I. It is the announce of a new government, a new reign. This king is not the violent tyrants of the Ancient Near East but the “Prince of Peace.” A new king has come, and all other kings must submit and acknowledge him. All other kings must lay their crowns at his feet.

The significance of this birth is that “in the city of David, a Saviour, which is the Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11).  In the context of the Greco-Roman world, this is political language.  The Emperor is the Savior of the world; Ceasar is Lord. But the royal city has produced a new king–the one who will save the world through his reign. The Emperor has a competitor; all the kings of the earth have a competitor.

The angels celebrate this birth with their own song which Handel makes a choral piece. The song reveals the divine intent:  ”Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, goodwill towards men” (Luke 2:14). God is glorified as peace comes to the earth. The reign of “Christ the Lord” is the reign of a peaceable kingdom.

Brilliantly, Handel follows this choral piece with the exhortation of Zechariah 9:9a–”rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion” because “they King cometh.” But who is he? “He is the righteous Saviour, and He shall speak peace unto the heathen” (based on Zechariah 9:9b, 10b). Handel supplies “Saviour” in order to connect with the previous quotation from Luke (and Zechariah 9:9b does say “having salvation”), and combines this with a phrase from the next verse in Zechariah.  The Savior will “speak peace to the nations” (NIV).

Handel then identifies something of this peace. He gives content to this salvation. Quoting from Isaiah 35:5-6a, salvation comes in the form of the blind seeing, the deaf hearing, the dumb singing and the lame walking. Light dispels the darkness and heals the brokenness.

The healing ministry of this new king is then portrayed as the actions of a gentle Shepherd. The Alto-Soprano duet invites us to come to Jesus where we will find rest (Matthew 11:28-30). The choral conclusion assures us that “His yoke is easy and His burden is light.”

Part I is an invitation. We are invited to rest and peace. The ground of this invitation is a divine act of salvation–to save the world by giving birth to a new king who inaugurates a kingdom of peace and rest.

“All flesh” will see this. The nations will come to it. The kings of the earth will recognize it. Israel will be refined by it. Peace will reign upon the earth and God will give rest to the earth.

Handel invites us to “come” and be comforted.

Handel’s Messiah: A Missional Reading III (What is the Hallelujah Chorus about?)

Part II begins with the passion of Jesus through his resurrection to his exaltation as reigning Lord. At the end of this section is a missional proclamation:  Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Handel weaves together texts from John, Isaiah, Psalms, Lamentations, Romans and Revelation to tell this story. He uses the following and in this order:

• John 1:29b
• Isaiah 53:3a, 4-5b, 6
• Psalm 22:7-8
• Psalm 69:20
• Lamentations 1:12
• Isaiah 53:8
• Psalm 16:10
• Psalm 24:7-8
• Romans 10:15
• Psalm 2:1–4, 9
• Revelation 19:6
• Revelation 11:15
• Revelation 19:16

One of the more fascinating aspects of Part II is that the resurrection only gets on brief, but significant, musical piece. Though brief, it is at the center of Part II. Psalm 16:10–”But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell; nor didst Thou suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption”–is the hinge that swings the door from passion to exaltation.

The first half of Part II is focused on the cross, lament and atonement. The opening line–”Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29b)–sets the tone for the first half and leads us into Isaiah 53 which bookends the passion story:  ”He was despised and rejected…for the transgression of Thy people was He stricken.” Isaiah 53 is the substance of Handel’s presentation of the atonement and highlighted by the fact that three of the five Isaianic texts are choral arrangements.

But lament gets equal billing but in a different way. The arrangements here are solos and the only choral piece is the voice of the mockers at the cross (“He trusted in God that He would deliver Him, let Him deliver Him, if He delights in Him,” Psalm 22:8). The other pieces in this section are tenor presentations–they are the voice of the sufferer though in the third person. He is mocked (Psalm 22:7), “full of heaviness” (Psalm 69:20), and experiencing incomparable sorrow (Lamentations 1:12). We get a deep sense of loneliness and isolation as the tenor voices the sorrow of the crucified one.

Nevertheless, we are reminded by Isaiah 53:8 that his suffering is for the sake of others. It is not about him, but about us.

But! “But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell” (Psalm 16:10). Here is the slim hinge, the brief announcement by the tenor voice. However, the voice rings as a herald rather than in the solemnity of sorrow. Something has happened; something has changed.

The chorus twice repeats Psalm 24:7-8:  ”Lift up your heads, O ye gates…the King of Glory shall come in!” This is not a description of resurrection but the command that the gates of heaven open so that the King may enter. Jesus has defeated death, the great enemy.  ”The Lord [is] mighty in battle.”

But is it just about death? Here a major theme from Part I re-enters the Messiah. Instead of pursing the death of death, Handel turns his attention–through the use of Psalm 2–to the submission of the nations. The kingdom theme emerges as the pinnacle of the Messiah’s triumph. The King of Glory defeats the nations.

Amazingly, instead of pursuing some kind of individualistic notion of salvation, Handel focuses on the nations. The nations are aligned against the Messiah. Instead of talking about sin and death, Handel sings about  the powers of the earth. The Messiah defeated the principalities and powers of this world. Nations (the Empire) crucified him–”the kings of the earth rise up, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and against His anointed”–and by his resurrection Jesus defeats the nations. He “break[s] their bonds” and from his dwelling in heaven “laugh[s] them to scorn.” He breaks the nations like a “potter’s vessel.” The powers are defeated. Something has happened; something has changed.

This is, according to Handel, “the gospel of peace” (Romans 10:15). The good news is the submission of the nations and the defeat of the powers of this world. “Beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace” (Romans 10:15).

That Handel’s focus is on the nations and powers rather than on sin and personal salvation is evident from the famous “Hallelujah Chorus” that concludes Part II.  It is worth quoting in full (from Revelation 19:6b; 11:15; 19:16):

Hallelujah!
for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.
The kingdom of this world is become
the kingdom of our Lord and His Christ;
and He shall reign for ever and ever.
King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.
Hallelujah!

This glorious praise chorus is not about the resurrection. Rather, it is about the exaltation and enthronement of the Lamb that was slain. It is the slain Lamb that becomes King and joins the Lord God on the throne over heaven and earth.

The announcement which excites heaven and earth (Hallelujah!) is the center piece of this chorus: the kingdoms of the world no longer reign. It is now the kingdom of Christ.

Handel’s Messiah does not locate salvation in a personal flight to heaven after death. Rather, it locates salvation in the reign of God over heaven and earth. The mission of God is to once again rule the earth in a way that transforms and renews it so that it will become the kingdom of Christ–a reign of peace, righteousness and  rest.

Heaven breaks out in “Hallelujah” because God reigns….because God has defeated the nations and now His Christ is “King of kings and Lord of lords.” This is a reign of peace; it is the good news of peace. It is the Prince of Peace who reigns.

Handel’s Messiah: A Missional Reading Part IV

Part III, the shortest, is humanity’s response to God’s redemptive act and is focused on the hope of resurrection which leads to a final praise of the Lamb. Handel ends his Messiah with the praise of the reigning King, a slain Lamb.

Handel weaves together texts from Job, 1 Corinthians and Revelation. He uses the following and in this order:

• Job 19:25-26
• 1 Corinthians 15:20-22
• 1 Corinthians 15:51-52
• Revelation 5:12
• Revelation 5:9
• Revelation 5:13

Salvation has been accomplished even though it has not yet been fully realized on earth. Heaven–and disciples on earth–sings “Hallelujah” because the Christ has been enthroned at the right hand of God. But even heaven–and certainly disciples on earth–yet hopes for the final defeat of the nations and death itself on earth. This hope, however, is not an uncertain wish but a certain anticipation. The war has been won though there are some battles yet to fight.

Part III begins by quoting Job. Though the meaning of the text is highly disputed in contemporary discussions, Handel uses the text in a traditional way as an affirmation of two interconnected ideas:  the resurrection of Jesus and our resurrection.  It comes in a first-person soprano aira that affirms “I know my Redeemer lives….in my flesh shall I see God” (Job 19:25-26).  Christ is raised and one day we will see God in the resurrected flesh.

This aira is a first person response to redemption accomplished. It affirms our faith and our hope. We are invited to confess. We are invited to sing, “I know my Redeemer lives…in my flesh shall I see God.” Part III is faith’s response to the exaltation of the God’s Messiah.

Handel immediately links this Jobian affirmation of faith with Paul’s theological description of Christ’s resurrection as “first fruits”–the resurrection of Jesus is a promise of a coming harvest (1 Corinthians 15:20). Our resurrection is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus; because he has been raised will we. Our resurrection is as certain as our death.

The hope of salvation is not flying away into some celestial city in the sky. Rather, the hope of salvation is resurrection from the dead.

The final solos of Handel’s work are bass. Singing 1 Corinthians 15:51-52, the emphasis is on the “mystery, ” and most importantly on the confession that “we shall be changed.” In this aria the bass repeats over and over “we shall be changed” while (in some versions) the trumpet sounds in the background. The combination of the trumpet with a triumphant bass voice booming in the foreground is absolutely thrilling.

Something has happened; something has changed. The kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of Christ. Death has been defeated. One day heaven will come toearth and we, too, shall be changed.

One might imagine that the Messiah could have ended with the “Hallelujah Chorus” which concludes Part II.  But Handel added a third part. Would not anything after that be anti-climatic? But theologically and musically Handel pulls it off. The final choral arrangement, derived from Revelation 5, is an exclamation point to the whole oratorio with the final “Amen” as a conclusion to the choral doxology.

I think, however, we need to hear this final doxology in the context of the whole oratorio. Central to the the whole piece has been the reign of God over the nations and the proclamation of peace to the nations. In this final doxology the Lamb is proclaimed worthy of blessing, power, honor and glory; both to the Lamb and the one who sits on the throne.

Worth is assigned to the Lamb that is rooted in the fact that he is the slain Lamb who has “redeemed us to God by His blood.” The slain Lamb conquered nations. The slain Lamb defeated the powers. This is the redemptive mission of God–that the kingdoms of this world would become the kingdom of Christ. But not by force or violence, but by the suffering servant, the slain lamb.

Amen, and Amen.

We are followers of the Lamb, not the Emperor. We are citizens of the kingdom of Christ; we no longer belong to the kingdoms of this world. We sing, confess and praise because the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of Christ. The King of kings and Lord of lords has been enthroned.

Postscript:  The actual author of the text of the Messiah is not Handel but rather Charles Jennens.  Handel added the music to the text.  I have used “Handel’s Messiah” in a conventional way. The theology of the text is more attributable to Jennens than it is to Handel but it is difficult to separate the music and the text as they form a complete whole in this masterpiece.

Intinction, the Lord’s Table and Sacramental Efficacy

On Christmas Eve, my wife Jennifer and I attended the communion and candlelight service at Woodmont Christian Church in Nashville.  The contemplative combination of Word and Table was what we were seeking that evening and it was a meaningful experience.

The Table was served by congregants coming to the front and receiving the bread from the minister and we were then invited to dip the bread into the wine. The technical name for this is “intinction” (from the Latin intinctio meaning to “dip in”). It has been practiced for centuries in many traditions and is widely practiced in liturgical churches.

We each have our own peculiarities, I suppose, but intinction is not my preferred mode of experiencing communion. I find it much too reductionistic.

I don’t like a dip in wine or grape juice ; I would actually like to drink it. I prefer the experience of drinking.

At the same time, I don’t like eating a pinched piece of bread or cracker; I would actually like to eat it rather than swallow a pill or simply get a taste. I prefer eating and drinking rather than a mere tasting.

Moreover, I actually prefer a meal for the Lord’s Supper; it is called a “supper,” right? It is a called a “table” rather than an “altar”; it is for eating and drinking rather than a procession of ceremonial tasting. I prefer the full experience of a table meal rather than a “wine tasting,” or a minimalistic “snack”.

However….and this is a major point–don’t miss it…the efficacy of the sacrament–the power, meaning, and grace of the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper–does not depend on the quantity and quality of the meal. God’s gracious work through the Lord’s Supper is God’s own work, not ours.

By faith we receive what God gives. Whatever we think God does through the Supper (and opinions vary here), God does it, I think, through faith. Consequently, as we receive the Supper in faith, God is actively at work.

It is unfortunate, as far as I am concerned, that we have reduced the Supper of the Lord to eating and drinking small quantities and have even reworked drinking by virtue of intinction. I think we loose something. We lose, for example, the fullness of the meal experience that is part of a communal act of eating.

Nevertheless, when we come to the table, it is God who graces us. We do not grace ourselves. God can work through eating small quantities and even through intinction.

But if I had it my way, I would…..

Who Would Have Thought? A Stone-Campbell Restorationist on Evolution

Should the results of sceince ever revise our interpretations of Scripture?

There was a time when, according to our Stone-Campbell forefather, people believed that “the sun moved around the earth; they interpreted the Bible to say so.” But when “the investigation of the laws of the material world proved the earth moves around the sun,” their interpretation of the Bible changed because the “truths of science” and the “truths of the Bible” do not contradict.

For centuries people “understood the first chapter of Genesis said that the world was created in the six days enumerated in this chapter. The truths of geology led to the study of this matter–lo!–the Bible does not say this.”

“A truth in the material world thus helps us to understand the great foundation and far-reaching truths of the spiritual world….The phenomena of the material world are the records of God’s work in the world of matter through the ages that are passed.” They must not be ignored.

Facts of science–truths about the material world–are interpretative aides for understanding Scripture. “The theory of evolution–and, in deed, the science of geology–claim that in the material wold the simpler forms of life were in point of time first developed; afterwards, those more complex; that in point of time there has been a regular gradation in both animal and plant life from the simplest up to the highest forms of life…These facts are true in nature…The Bible plainly teaches these as facts, and the facts of the material world, so far as they have been determined, fully corroborate the Scripture statement. These facts, given in both nature and the Bible, are the grounds for the theory of evolution.”

Humanity “stands at the head of all created beings and is the best and highest of material beings, and that all preceding creations in the material world were preparatory steps and stages in refining the material out of which man is made and by which his life is sustained, is positively affirmed in the Bible and corroborated by the known facts of nature. When his highest mechanism of God was completed, God breathed into it a spirit that differentiated it from all the lower creation and allied it to the spirits and to God himself.”

“I believe life had existed on the earth previously to the six days’ work of Gen. 1. The Bible nowhere contradicts this. Man and the higher order of animals and plants did not exist before this.”

“Could we adopt the idea that the six days were long periods of time, we could reconcile it all; but this seems a forced and unnatural meaning of the Bible statement, and I greatly object to these. The statement seems to contemplate our ordinary days. So I say there are some things here that we do not understand.”

“My study of these things has caused me to revise my conceptions of the teaching of the Bible, but the comparison of the facts and truths of the natural world with those of the Bibl log since banished all apprehension of the least contradiction between them.”

Who said this?

None other than David Lipscomb, Salvation from Sin, ed. by F. B. Shepherd (Nashville: McQuiddy Publishing Co., 1913) in his two chapters “Evolution and the Bible” and “Geology and the  Bible” (pp. 347-375).

Think we can learn anything from his example?

New Epublication

My new epub book, Meeting God at the Shack: A Journey into Spiritual Recovery, is now available on both the Nook and the Kindle.  Below is the first chapter.

_________

Chapter One

What Kind of Book is the Shack?

I will open my mouth with a parable, I will teach you lessons from the past.

Psalm 78:2 (TNIV)

While some have perhaps read The Shack as an actual account, the title page identifies the piece as a “novel.” This is a fictional story. But…it is nevertheless true.

When Paul Young talks about his book, he identifies it as an extended modern parable. Like a parable, the events described are fictional though possible (that is, it is not science fiction). And, like a parable, it becomes a world into which we step to hear something true about God, life and the soul.

The Prodigal Son (Luke 15), for example, is a fictional but true story. As fiction the story has no correspondence in fact, that is, it is not a story about a specific, actual family. No one walked up to Jesus after the parable to ask the name of the son, which family he came from and into which “far country” he went. Whether it is actual history or not is irrelevant. It is a fictional tale. But the story is nevertheless true. The Prodigal Son says something true about God and his relationship with his children.

A parabolic story draws the listener or reader into the world of the parable so that we can see something from a particular angle. A parable is not comprehensive theology, but a story-shaped way of saying a particular thing. As a piece of art rather than didactic prose, it allows a person to hear that point in an emotional as well as intellectual way. It gives us imagery, metaphor, and pictures to envision the truth rather than merely describing it in prose. Rather than analyzing propositions, we become part of a parable’s narrative. We are free to experience our own life again as we are guided by the storyteller.

Parables, as the parables of Jesus often do, sucker-punch us so that we begin to see something we had not previously seen about ourselves, God or the world. They speak to us emotionally in ways that pure prose does not usually do, much like music, art and poetry are expressive in ways that transcend discursive or academic descriptions. This enables the right side (the artsy side) of our brains to connect with what the left side (the analytical side) of our brain thinks about. We can feel these truths rather than simply think about them. As a result those truths can connect with our guts (our core beliefs about ourselves) in ways that our intellect cannot reach. The truths, then, can settle into our hearts as well as our minds.

The Shack is, I think, a piece of serious theological reflection in parabolic form. It is not a systematic theology. It does not cover every possible topic nor reflect on God from every potential angle. That is not its intent. That would be too much to expect from a parable. The “Prodigal Son,” for example, is not a comprehensive teaching about God.

Rather, the focus of The Shack is rather narrow. Fundamentally, given my own experience and hearing Young talk about his intent, I read the book as answering this question:

How do wounded people journey through their hurt to truly believe in their gut that God really loves them despite the condition of their “shack”?

The parable is about how we feel about ourselves in our own “shacks.” Do we really believe—deep in our guts, not just in our heads—that God is “especially fond” of us? How can God love us when our “shacks” are a mess? The parable addresses these feelings, self-images and woundedness.

The theology of The Shack engages us at this level. It encourages us to embrace the loving relationship into which God invites us. Consequently, it does not answer every question, address every aspect of God’s nature or reflect on every topic of Christian theology. Instead, it zeros in on the fundamental way in which wounded souls erect barriers that muzzle the divine invitation to loving relationship.

When reading The Shack as serious theological reflection, it is important to keep in mind two key points. First, Young wrote the story to share his own journey into spiritual recovery with his kids. His family recognizes that he is “Mack,” that Missy is his own lost childhood, and Mack’s encounter with God over a weekend is a telescoped parable of his own ten year journey to find healing. It is a story into which Young’s children could enter to understand their father’s journey from tragedy to hope, from barrenness to relationship with God.

Second, it is serious theology in that he shares a vision of God that is at the root of his healing. The parable teaches truth–the truth he came to believe through the process of his own recovery and healing. The “truth,” however, is not that God is an African American woman (a metaphor which has angered some). That is simply a parabolic form. Rather, the truth is that God is “especially fond” of Paul (Mack) despite his “shack” (his “stuff”).

This message, once it found a publisher, became available for others beyond his children. It has now become a parable for other readers, and Young invites us to see that the truth he discovered in his own recovery is true for every one of us. God is “especially fond” of each of us no matter what the condition of our “shacks”.

In the brief chapters that follow I will use Young’s parable as an occasion for thinking about some significant themes in spiritual recovery. The Shack will provide the fodder but I will not limit myself to Young’s book in developing the themes. Using the novel as a starting place, I will pursue these themes in the context of my own spiritual journey as well as placing them within the Story of God as told in Scripture.

While one aspect of my purpose is to discern whether The Shack deserves the hostility that some have given it, my larger intent is to reflect on spiritual recovery in the context of my own journey to find healing. We will walk along side Mack as he receives a vision of God which wounded people need and want to hear—a vision available in Scripture itself.

So, I invite you to reflect on these themes with me—to process them within your own journey, out of your own woundedness and in relationship with your own God.

Lipscomb on the Bread and Wine (Yes, “Wine”)

If the facts of science should shape our interpretation of Scripture (see my previous post), how do we understand what is happening at the table of the Lord?  Lipscomb uses an argument below that is rooted in an optimistic empiricism but something even more profound as I will explain. See what you think.

“But if this [transubstantiation, JMH] is a miracle, it is the opposite of every miracle mentioned in the Bible. Instead of appeal to the sense to produce faith in the unseen, the belief in the miracle rests in an existing faith contrary to the testimony of the bodily senses. A man’s bodily senses say there is no flesh and blood in the loaf or the wine. It takes a blind faith that sets aside the testimony of the sight, touch, taste, hearing, smelling of the body to believe this. God never required a man to believe a thinking contrary to the witness of his own senses.”

“Jesus said: “Do this [partake of the bread and wine] (DL’s words, JMH) in memory of me.” A memorial of a person or a transaction is not that person or transaction itself reproduced. A memorial is something that reminds one of the person or the thing done.”

“Christ said: ‘This is my body.” “This is my blood.” But did he mean it literally or figuratively? Jesus frequently used words figuratively: as, “Upon tis rock I will build my church.” He did not mean a literal rock nor a material building. He told the woman of Samaria “he would have given [her], living water…Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up into eternal life.” (John 4:10-14.) This was no real water of which Jesus spoke. It was a figurative use of the word. How do we determine this? Because to give it a literal meaning would contradict our bodily senses. Jesus called Herod a “fox.” Did he mean he was a literal four-legged animal? No one would so claim. Why not? Because our bodily senses contradict it, and we are forced to conclude it is untrue, or the word is used in a figurative sense. Now this is true when he says of the bread, “This is my body.” Our bodily sense know it is not, and we are compelled to say it is not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily senses know it si not, and we are compelled to say it si not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily sense are good witnesses to us of material things, and God at no time requires men to reject their testimony in reference to such things. He does not require us to believe the bread and wine are literal body and blood of Christ when all our senses tell us they are not. They are figuratively so. They bring these things to our remembrance,a nd his body and blood are spiritually present to bless our spirits. Our spirits, not our bodies, are blessed in remembering the body and blood of Christ. There is hardly a chapter, especially of John in which words are not so used.”  (David Lipscomb, Gospel Advocate, Dec 19, 2907, p. 807).

Lipscomb’s point has some merit.  Empirical reality, as perceived through the human mind, is a mode (in some sense) of knowledge. But I would suggest that a deeper point is at issue–one which, I think, Lipscomb would also argue if presented to him.

One of the reasons I reject transubstantiation is that it involves the annihilation of creation. Transubstantiation annihilates the presence of the bread and wine in order to replace it with the body and blood of Christ. This dishonors creation itself. The bread and wine are not transfigured into a form of new creation; it ceases to be bread and wine altogether. The telos of creation, however, is not annihilation but transfiguration (redemption in Romans 8). It does not cease to be but becomes new creation; not annihilated but renewed (as Lipscomb himself believed).

So, at the table, the bread does not cease to be bread or the wine cease to be wine. Rather, the bread and the wine become Spiritual (pneumatological and eschatological) means of experiencing the new creation in Christ. Bread and wine, as elements of creation itself, become means of Spiritual communion with the new creation that is Christ.

Transubstantiation does not fit the miracle stories of Scripture where the miracles perfect nature or utilize the elements of nature rather than annihilating or destroying nature. Lipscomb has a point, I think.

This is currently debated among some Roman Catholic scholars  For example, Terence Nichols (Transubstantiation and Eucharistic Presence,” Pro Ecclesia 11 [Winter 2002] 57-75) attempts to understand the miracle of the Eucharist in the context of modern physics while rejecting traditional theories of Thomistic Transubstantiation.

Does this mean we reduce the Supper to a figure or symbol where it becomes just a memorial?  I don’t think so. I think something Spiritual and eschatological is happening at the Eucharistic meal. But I won’t take the space to talk about that here; I have written elsewhere about that.

My point is that one’s theology of creation as empirical reality, as something good that should not be annihilated, and with an eschatological goal of transfiguration mitigates against a traditional, Thomistic understanding of transubstantiation. Something Spiritual happens, something mystical (thus the Greek church calls them the “mysteries”), but it does not subvert or deny creation. Rather, creation (bread and wine) retains its original function, that is, to mediate the presence of God and communion between God and humanity.

David Lipscomb and the Treatment of Animals

David Lipscomb endorses a society–that is a rare event. In this case, he endorses the creation of the Humane Society in 1887 Nashville.

“Some of the best citizens of Nashville are engaged in a good work in the organization of the Humane Society for the prevention of cruelty to animals.  The Lord has given the animal to us and we are his protectors.  We have no right to cruelly use them. Many a man will be punished for his inhumanity to the dumb brute. The genuine Christian will treat the animal humanely. It is a sad commentary on our people that there exists the necessity for the organization of such a society. Many people in our own beloved land need to become civilized” (Gospel Advocate, June 15, 1887, 379).

Lipscomb displays, on occasion, ecological concerns though we shold not expect that he would have the heightened sense that we have today. I think this is directly related to his understanding of the “new heaven and new earth” which is a renewed earth analogous to a return to Eden. Animals were present in Eden; indeed, they were named by Adam.

In the context of Genesis 1-2, animals were not created as food. They were created as companions though they were inadequate for the kind of intimacy God desired for humanity that would mirror the intimacy of God’s own life. Nevertheless, animals shared Eden with the original couple. They will share the eschaton with humanity as well where the lion and the lamb will lie down together and the child will play among them.

The new heaven and new earth will be like an eschatological petting-zoo. Except the animals will roam free rather than caged.

Animals are not throw-aways. They were created for the joy of the Creator–God has the biggest aquarium in the history!  In the new heaven and new earth, God will still enjoy the creation, including the creatures that fill the sea, walk the land and fly in the air. And these creatures will continue to praise God–”let everything that breathes praise the Lord” (Psalm 150:6).

So, yes, dogs do “go to heaven.”

Favorite Stone-Campbell Quotes: James A. Harding

Harding (1848-1922) was a firm believer that everything is about the kingdom of God, especially our wealth and our businesses. Harding encouraged making money but for the sake of the kingdom of God rather than self-interested pursuits. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes from Harding which reflect this emphasis.

“If Christians are wise, they will be diligent in business; and then, when they have money, they will use it with a free hand in ministering to widows and orphans, in caring for the poor, in having the gospel preached, or to sum it all up, in lending it to the Lord….Lend your money to the Lord, and it is safe; you will be sure to get it when you need it.” (James A. Harding, “Scraps.  Wealth and How to Use It,” Gospel Advocate 28.43 [27 October 1886], 674.)

“If every Christian in the world should run his business, whatever that may be, solely for the advancement of God’s kingdom; if he should consider himself as being in the world simply and solely for that purpose, what a wonderful change we would have in the world!” (James A. Harding, “Three Contradictory Theories,” The Way 3.1 [4 April 1901], 3-4.)

Lipscomb on the Mennonites

In 1909 David Lipscomb received a note from Nankin, Ohio, describing how Allen county voted “wet” by 36 votes when 800 “dry” Mennonites refused to vote. The angry author laid the “responsibility of the result” at the feet of the Mennonites. The writer noted that since the “supreme power in our government is lodged with the people,” everyone must participate or else responsibility for negative results lies with them (the non-voters).

Lipscomb responded in a classic article entitled “Mennonites” (Gospel Advocate. February 18, 1909, pp. 204-205).  He defends Mennonite practice and says the idea of non-participation “did not originate with” Menno Simons.  When “Jesus refused [Satan's]  offer” of the kingdoms of his world, he set an example for his disciples.

Others followed that example. Lipscomb cites Justin Martyr, Tertullian and Origen. He depends on Edward Gibbon, Johan Lorenz Mosheim and George Herbert Orchard for his history.  ”Nothing in history is surer,” he writes, “than that the churches for the first three centuries held firmly to the doctrine that Christians should not take part in civil institutions. After the conversion of Constantine they were encouraged to engage in political affairs, and many fell from their steadfastness in the faith.” But not all, including the “Waldenses, the Wickliffites, and the Husstites” (quoting Mosheim).  And the Mennonites.

Lipscomb then offers his own theological comment on the practice of the Mennonites. He concludes his brief article with the following three paragraphs. They are a succinct statement of his convictions.

     These are only a few extracts showing the ancient and divine origin of the doctrine held on tis subject by the Mennonites. I believe this the teaching of the Bible, and the true end of the reign of God on earth will never be realized until the children of God work in God’s church. The kingdoms of this world are nowhere recognized as the kingdoms of God, but as the kingdoms of the evil one. They are to be borne and treated with as necessitated by the sinfulness of man, to be overruled by God for the punishment of evil doers, and essential to the well-being and government of the world until the rule of Christ is established. We are to pay our taxes and submit in all things that do not lead away from God into fellowship with these. We should always gratefully accept all favors and laws promoting morality and virtue. But we cannot take part in the human governments.

     I think no greater evil can befall the churches of Jesus Christ than for them to enter the field of politics, drink into the spirit of the civil powers, and look to them for help in enforcing morality and in carrying out the law and the righteousness of the Bible. The more widely the church and the State can be kept apart in their operations, the better for both. The reason of this is, they are diverse in  nature and character, and must be run on different and antagonistic principles. For a man, as a Christian, to enforce a principle of morality or righteousness on his fellow-man by civil law is persecution. The church of God is the embodiment of spiritual influences that conquer through love and self-sacrifice; the civil government is the embodiment of material influence and forces that conquer by physical power. The two cannot be moved by the same spirit or work harmoniously in the same hands. The civil ruler that would be moved by the spirit of Christ, that would die to save a victim from death, would not be a successful civil ruler. While the church and the civil government cannot work harmoniously in the same hands and in the same channel, and while some men are wicked and corrupt and all are weak and short-sighted, under the laws of God they may both be in the world, and yet his people be not of the world, and they may be helpful to each other. The church doing its duty must keep a moral sentiment alive that will help the world and afford a standard of right on which the civil government will rest, and the government can afford protection and help to the Christian. For this latter protection the Christian should pay his taxes and submit to all laws of the government not conflicting with the laws of God.

     I am always sorry to see Christians engage in politics.I am sorry to see them become interested in working to put others in office. I ams sorry to see them seek office; sorry to see them given office, for it demoralizes them and leads others wrong. I am glad to see Christians stand for God and his truth even when the opposite course seems to bring good. Much good of an earthly character, moral and temporal, is offered to lead away from God. Men must learn to stand like these Mennonites for the truth against temporal good.

“Thus, endeth the lesson. “

A Stone-Campbell “Father” on the Ku Klux Klan

Houston Chronicle (1921)

To the Editor of the Chronicle.

I desire to reply through your columns to some questions that have been propounded to me by private letter as follows:

“I read both the News and The Chronicle. Will you please state through one of these papers or both, for my information and that of some others, why you claiming to be a Christian, so bitterly hate klansmen of today? As you are a preacher you must know that the Bible teaches us to love all men, even our enemies, and condemns hatred for any man or any thing. I know it teaches this, for I, myself, am well acquainted with the Bible, as well as yourself. I have been creditably informed that you belonged to the klan in reconstruction days. Now, as the klan of that day and the klan of today were born of the same spirit and for the same purpose, how can you, as a former member of the klan, feel justified in being so inconsistent as to now oppose what you then indorsed and were? Of course you will not be so unethical with me as to have my letter published, when I ask you not to!”

But I do not consider it “unethical” to publish the interrogational part of your letter withholding your name. How else could I comply with your request in the informational way you asked for?

Please pardon me for saying, since you request that your identity be not disclosed, while asking me to step out into The Chronicle’s wide field and exhibit my identity to its multiplied thousands of readers favors of cowardice on your part. If you desire to know why I say this, I’ll tell you in advance of your asking why. Merely to gratify your curiosity you ask me to take the risk of being tarred and feathered and lashed, if not killed, for you know many klansmen will read my reply to your questions and I feel quite sure that every mother’s son of them will take offense at what I shall say, for I shall tell the truth about their klan and its principles and its lack of principles. Many men and not a few defenseless women have been tarred and feathered and whipped by klansmen, and some have been killed, for giving them less offense than the offense I feel sure they will take at my reply to your questions, though it is my sincere desire to give no offense to them or anyone in my answers, but to speak plain, unvarnished truth in the premises.

If I should answer your questions over some nome de plume instead of my correct name I’d feel that I had acted cowardly, and you would, too. But you, it seems are too shy to risk appearing before The Chronicle’s readers as a kluxer, even in a nom de plume attitude. I’m charitable enough to suppose that such cowardice on your part is not inborn, but mask-made.

I will now reply to your questions in as respectful style as my conscience will allow me, though I had decided to never again speak of the klan in any public way—not through either fear of them or favor for them, but because I know the local klans were dying out all over the country, like “sheep with the rot”—but from a worse “rot” than “sheep rot.”

In order that I may reply to your questions as briefly as possible, I answer in the following way: I do not “hate klansmen bitterly” or sourly, or in any way. Some of them are very dear friends of mine and some are my blood kin and some otherwise kin, all of whom I love. But I do “hate” the corrupt and corrupting doctrine and doings of the klan. I do so for many reasons, among which are that it tends toward making cowards out of brave men and liars out of truthful men—so positively _________ ____________ ____________ “hatred of anything.” I’ll try to set you right on this point—though I know it’s an almost impossible task to set a klansman right. The Bible teaches in many places and in various ways that even God Himself “hates sin.” And the inspired Psalmist said, “I hate all false ways.” The ways of the klan are “false ways.” “False” to Christ and Christianity, “false” to our nation and its constitution and Bill of Rights, “false” to our state and its constitution and laws, and “false” to every principle of justice, right, morality, democracy and civilization. And as David said: “Through thy precepts I get understanding, therefore I hate all false ways.” So I say, through the precepts of the Bible and the constitution and laws of our nation and state I get understanding concerning Christianity, morality, democracy and Americanism. Therefore, I hate false ways of the devil and the Ku Klux Klan.

I am an American—yes, a “hundred per cent,” one—but I do not have to write this on a Ku Klux card for it to be so—in fact If I should, I’d know I’d written what was not so.

You never made a greater mistake in your life than you did you said, “the klan of reconstruction days and the klan of today were born of the same spirit and for the same purpose.” The former was born of the spirit of patriotism and for the protection of Southern homes and firesides and womanhood against the carpetbagger vandalism that was then ruthlessly roughshodding our every sacred sentiment and constitutional right under its plundering, rapacious heel. The latter was born of the mercenary greed in the heart of an Atlanta schemer. And its purpose since such birth seems to be to wield political influence through means of intimidation in various ways as a stepping-stone to the control of elections.

As to “inconsistency” on my part because I once belonged to a klan for a the protection of home and womanhood against unconstitutional invasions, and now object to a klan that stands for the invasion of the homes in masked uniform and the dragging of defenseless women from their homes and tarring and feathering and cruelly beating them, I’m wholly unable to visualize the “no consistency” in the premises.

Austin McGary of Willis, Texas.

——–

Thanks to Terry Gardner who supplied this text and discovered the piece. Terry wrote the encyclopedia entry for The Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement.

Voting More Evil than Dancing, says David Lipscomb

In 1875 David Lipscomb was asked a question about whether one should exclude those who voted from the local congregation as a test of fellowship, just as some advocated should be done with those who participate in dancing and drunkenness.

Below is Lipscomb’s response in part (Gospel Advocate, 1875, 399-402).

     We suppose we have done as much to excite an investigation of this question as any one in the land. But a few years ago, because we did not advise some brethren in Arkansas to excommunicate every man that failed to see as they saw, they charged us with being a mere time server with no independence, and disgusted with our cowardice and infidelity to truth, as they called it, they quit taking the Advocate as an unclean and unholy thing. Well we were sorry for their course, but we think we can quietly bear opposition, both front and rear, when we know we are right.

     We are satisfied that voting does much more harm to the church than dancing does. And we are no apologists for dancing. We believe it is lust exciting and is a fruitful promoter of lewdness and other sins.

     The evil and wrong of voting is a matter of much stronger faith with me than the evil of dancing. Show me the passage on which the evil of dancing rests and we will show you a score, equally as plain, that voting is wrong. The whole organization of the kingdom of God is based upon the fact that every other institution in the world is of the evil one, is against God–must be destroyed, must be prevailed over by the gates of hell.

     While saying this much, we are yet unwilling to say that we think a church ought as yet, to withdraw themselves from one for voting. (The brethren will excuse us for not using the word exclude. It is not a Scriptural word, nor does it convey a Scriptural idea.) The reason for this is, the brethren have not been sufficiently taught upon the subject. The Scriptural means for correcting an evil has not been sufficiently used to resort to this extreme measure. We have spoken upon the subject, written upon the subject talked publicly and privately upon the subject, have come as near making a hobby of the subject as any one, (expect to do it more in the future and have no dread of being called a hobbyist), yet we have never to a single individual taken the pains to present the subject in such fullness and with such earnestness, as to be ready to give him over to Satan for rejecting it.

……To give force to the truth on this subject, it is much more needed that those who believe that Christians ought not to sustain, uphold and participate in human institutions, should teach the truth to others, by every means in their power to force an investigation. When we have access to papers to discuss the question through the papers (when they refuse the discussion, make them feel we regard they have outraged truth), do it in public teaching, do it private conversation.  Do it kindly, persistently, earnestly, as believing truly that the kingdom set up by the God of Heaven ‘shall break in pieces and destroy all these kingdoms but it (alone) shall stand forever.” If it destroys the kingdom it must destroy all those in those kingdoms. All supporters and upholders of these kingdoms, must share their fate. We must teach it in all our relationships, we must make all who know us feel that we believe, the gates of hell shall not prevail against the church which Christ built. But that they will encompass within their destroying vortex every other church, organization, kingdom in the universe. In prevailing against these kingdoms, the gates of hell will prevail against all that are component parts of these kingdoms, against all work performed in and through them.  No child of God ought to do work where it will perish in hell. We have not a doubt that all work done in any other congregation, organization, church or kingdom will be engulfed in hell….

One gets a sense of how important this is to Lipscomb.  The kingdom of God stands in opposition to all human institutions, and the most powerful, violent and coercive of institutions is civil government.

In this article, Lipscomb notes how the Christian Standard, the American Christian Review, and the Apostolic Times – all papers located in the north or border states — oppose his position and treat him as a traitor to democracy. Lipscomb’s position was characterized by the Apostolic Times as the position of a “stingy soul-sleeping Dutchmen and sore-eyed, whiskey drinking Irishmen.” Some ethnic stereotypes are embedded in that comment. They essentially say that Lipscomb is simply anti-authority when he is actually pro=kingdom of God.

How Much Do We Tolerate Till We Disfellowship? David Lipscomb Responds

In response to a question about whether a congregation should disfellowship another believer for voting, David Lipscomb offered this advice about any act of withdrawal of fellowship (Gospel Advocate, 1875, 399):

     Our brother asks the question how far may a man go in sin, without being withdrawn from.  We are not much of a believer in capital punishment either in church or state. We are never willing to give a man up finally, until we believe he has committed the sin unto death. So long as a man really desires to do right, to serve the Lord, to obey his commands, we cannot withdraw from him. We are willing to accept him as a brother, no matter how ignorant, he may be, or how far short of the perfect standard his life may fall from this ignorance. We do not mean either to intimate that we are willing to compromise or to hold in abeyance one single truth of God’s holy writ, from any motive of policy or expediency. We will maintain the truth, press the truth upon him, compromise not one word or iota of that truth, yet forbear with the ignorance, the weakness of our brother who is anxious but not yet able to see the truth. I feel sure, if I am faithful and he willing to learn the truth, he will come to the full measure of my knowledge. Why should I not, when I fall so far short of perfect knowledge myself? How do I know that the line beyond which ignorance damns, is behind me, not before him? If I have no forbearance with his ignorance, how can I expect God to forbear with mine?

     What is needed is patient instruction and discipline in the church, instead of withdrawal from the weak.  Final withdrawal is the end of discipline. I have no doubt it is much too often hastily resorted to without previous instruction and discipline…So long then as man exhibits a teachable disposition, is wiling to hear, to learn and obey the truth of God, I care not how far off he may be, how ignorant he is, I am willing to recognize him as a brother. No matter how wise or how near the truth or how moral a man may be, if he sets up a standard of his own or another and is not willing to learn of God, take his law and obey him, then I can withdraw from him.

Lipscomb on Jubilee–Wisdom for Governments

David Lipscomb favored the “working man” over the rich industrialists. He believed his opposition to the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few was rooted in Israel’s economic practices.  Hear his voice (Gospel Advocate [7 June 1906] 355):

“The Bible furnishes protection against social evils. One of the clouds on our horizon is the tendency to the accumulation of extreme riches in the hands of a few and the extreme poverty of another element. The Bible, in its arrangements for the release of debts, the return of lands, and the general restitution of Sabbatical years and jubilee years, was a preventive of such evils, and teaches a lesson of wisdom the governments of this world have yet to learn.”

Immersed in the flow and life of Scripture, Lipscomb believed the economic ethics of Israel has something to say the capitalism of American democracy.  Me too!

David Lipscomb on Wealth and Possessions

“A stingy church cannot be a true church. It cannot be rich in faith and trust in God. It cannot be rich in works to benefit and bless man or to honor and glorify God. It cannot continue rich in this world’s goods. A stingy man may gather together and hold for a time, money and property. A stingy man with millions hoarded is a poor man. A poor, stingy, sordid soul may have property, but he lives a pinched, poverty-stricken life, watching and caring for and adding to his money, but enjoying nothing of it. He does not enjoy it, but it is an oppressive burden to him. He may cling to it while he lives; but when death loosens his clutches upon it, his family soon scatter it to the four winds, and come down to grinding poverty. It works the same with churches as with individuals….”

“All the good a man gets out of what passes through his hands here is from what he uses for good in serving God. What he properly uses for himself and for his own family, if they are serving God or if it is helping them to serve God, is as much used in the service of God as what he gives to others to help them. Everything that is used for selfish purposes and to promote the fleshly desires of himself or family is lost, is worse than lost. It is positive injury and hurt to himself and family. True happiness is found here on earth, not in the gratification of the desires and appetites of the flesh. A larger proportion of those who seek happiness by gratifying the flesh in a few years tire of the disappointments and burdens, and a greater proportion of this class seek forgetfulness of life’s evils and burdens in suicide than of any other class.  Churches, like individuals,  to enjoy life and prosper, must be liberal and self-denying in their labor and in the use of their means in doing good to others. This is the only true good to be gotten out of property, talent, or ability of any kind. The man who uses his means and opportunities otherwise squanders his means and trifles with his opportunities. He is a spiritual profligate who hoards his money, keeps his property and refuses to so use it as to abound to his spiritual account at the last day.

“These are called ‘strenuous times.’ This means the struggle for existence has become sharp and fierce. A man must ‘hustle’ if he makes a living for himself and family. If he is indolent and idle he and his family must want. They will suffer for food and raiment. These strenuous times affect the spiritual conditions as much as the pecuniary. If a church is not active, alive, energetic in using its means and opportunities to save and help others, it will come to penury and want. By virtue of its indolence and indifference to its own growth and the salvation of others, it will take the dry rot and die.”

David Lipscomb, “Use of Means and Opportunities,” Gospel Advocate (19 December 1907), 807.

Nothing Significant for Us There! Where? Chronicles!

“It is difficult to imagine any theological question asked in this generation on which the book of Chronicles is likely to shed any light.”  So wrote John McKenzie, A Theology of the Old Testament (Garden  City: Doubleday, 1974), p. 27. [Thanks to Keith Stanglin for pointing me to this quote.]

I only wish I had known that before I wrote a 500+ page theological commentary on 1 & 2 Chronicles.

Uh…..I think McKenzie was off just a wee little bit.    But given that my commentary is a 2.5 million seller (that is, it is in the top 2.5 million best sellers!), he may be on to something. 

Reading Zechariah

Zechariah is the longest and, many think, the most difficult of the “minor” (smaller) prophets. It is also one of the most significant.

• Zechariah is important for understanding the good news of Jesus the Messiah. Zechariah 9-14 is the dominant prophetic resource for the authors of the Gospels for narrating the meaning of Jesus’ passion.  The Messianic expectations of Zechariah shape the hearing of the gospel in the first century.
• Zechariah is also one of the most important prophets for understanding the reign of God in the world and in the world to come. Other than Ezekiel, Zechariah is the most important resource for the Apocalypse (Revelation). The Apocalyptic expectations of the first century are understood, at least partly, through the lens of Zechariah. The coming Kingdom of God is one of the major themes of Zechariah 9-14.
• Zechariah interprets the meaning of the rebuilding of the Temple and the restoration of Jewish life in the land.  Zechariah 1-8 is significant for understanding not only the Messianic nature of Jesus but also for envisioning the nature of the Christian community as restored Israel.

Zechariah returned to Jerusalem with the exiles in 537 with his grandfather Iddo who headed the priestly clan (Nehemiah 12:16; Berekiah of Zech 1:1 is presumably his father who for whatever reason is not in the picture in Nehemiah). As he matured, he served alongside of the younger (perhaps) prophet Haggai (Ezra 5:1; 6:14); they were neighboring pastors.

Haggai began prophesying on August 29, 520 BCE. (Hag 1:1)—all four of his messages are dated in 520 BCE. Zechariah began prophesying in Oct/Nov 520 BCE (Zech 1:1). His eight visions are dated February 15, 519 BCE (Zech 1:7). His oracles on fasting are dated December 7, 518 BCE (Zech 7:1).

The first half of Zechariah (chapters 1-8), then, is dated to the period of 520-518. Cyrus the Great, the Persian Emperor (559-529 BCE), had authorized the rebuilding of the temple in 538 and the foundation of the temple was laid in 536. But the work had stopped and the temple remained uncompleted. Darius the Great, another Persian Emperor (522-486 BCE), authorized renewed building activity in 519 (Ezra 5:3-6:14) and the prophets encouraged those efforts. The temple was rededicated on March 12, 516 (Ezra 6:15-18).

Zechariah 1-8 is situated in the hopes of the people for a renewed temple and renewed life in Palestine. Zechariah’s visions (Zech 1:7-6:8) sustain that hope while his prophetic message also calls for ethical renewal among the people (Zechariah 7:1-8:23).

The second half of Zechariah (chapters 9-14) is more difficult to locate historically. Scholars have sometimes placed this material in the pre-exilic period, but most in recent decades have placed it in the late Persian or Greek period of Israel’s history. The argument continues as to whether Zechariah 9-14 demonstrates a sufficiently different style, context, message and language as to demand two different authors. Whatever the case may be, some still believe that we can locate the two oracles of Zechariah 9-14 in the 480s BCE when Zechariah was older and living in a different historical situation. But these oracles are undated and thus we cannot contextualize with any certainty.

The two sections of Zechariah 9-14 are clearly distinguished by the delineation of two different oracles (Zech 9:1; 12:1). The first oracle is the announcement of judgment against the nations (Zech 9-11) and the second is the announcement of promise and hope for Israel (Zech 12-14).

Judgment and hope are common themes among the prophets of Israel and this is certainly part of Zechariah’s own sense that he continues in the line of earlier prophets (1:6; 7:12). In Zechariah judgment and hope are connected with the present and coming reign of God in the world. This resonates with the gospel theme of “repent and believe the good news” of the kingdom of God (cf. Mark 1:14-15).

To read Zechariah is to hear the joy, judgment and Jubilee of the kingdom of God. It is to live in the present hope that the rebuilt temple and restored priesthood embody. It is to recognize the judgment of God against the nations and against Israel’s past (and potentially Israel’s future as well). It is to believe the message about the coming reign of God in which the whole earth will be inscribed “Holy to the Lord” (Zech 14:20).

The message of Zechariah is good news; it is the gospel of the Messiah who will come to reign over the earth in his eternal kingdom.

Zechariah 1:1-6 — “Return to Me, and I Will Return to You.”

Zechariah, a priest who returned with other Babylonian exiles to Jerusalem in 537 BCE, appears before the people in 520 BCE as a prophet. “The word of the Lord” comes to Zechariah—he is given a message from God to the people. Zechariah sees himself in line with the former prophets with a similar message, a message soaked in divine authority.

Zechariah is a prophet like Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel, like the “former prophets” (1:1; 7:7, 12). It appears that the former prophets already had a canonical function for Zechariah—they, too, spoke the word of Yahweh. Their presence (and authority) is still felt in the community. Zechariah appears as a new voice in a new situation but with a very similar message.

This text emphasizes that the Lord has spoken and what the people say in response. The NIV does not translate the last word of Zechariah 1:1: “saying.” 1:2-6a are what the Lord says and 1:6b is how the people respond. The verb (‘amar) is used seven times in five verses. In addition, the noun (ne’em) is used twice: a thing uttered, or a prophetic declaration (Zech 1:3-4). The Lord speaks and the people listen and respond.

The Lord had been angry (literally, “angry with anger”) with Israel’s forefathers. They heard the former prophets but would not listen. God pleaded with them to turn away from their evil ways and deeds but they would not. Consequently, God was angry with them.

“Where are your forefathers now?” the Lord asks. They no longer exist. They went into exile. Jerusalem was burned. The people know the answer to that question. They know their history. They know what the earlier prophets said and the consequences Israel suffered because of their sin.

But the next question is intriguing. “And the prophets, do they live forever?” Some see this as an objection from the people as if the prophets are no longer around either or no longer relevant. But there is no indication in the text that the people are now speaking though the text may be answering a potential objection or at least the temptation to think in this way. The answer is that while the prophets do not live forever, their words do. What they spoke happened because they were Yahweh’s words. “My words,” Yahweh says, overtook your forefathers just as the prophets said it would. The word of the Lord is effectual; it will accomplish its purpose (Isaiah 55:10-11).

So, the point might be something like this: while the fathers are dead and gone, the prophets still live through their word. Though the prophets are dead they are yet present through their message. The word of the Lord, through the prophets, lives forever and it will accomplish its purpose. The word of the pre-exilic and exilic prophets still lives, and Zechariah will use their message to shape his own. Zechariah, as a text, is filled with allusions to earlier prophets.

At the heart of the message of Zechariah, however, is not a threat though it is certainly there—if you don’t listen now, then you will end up like your fathers. Rather, the heart of Zechariah’s message is a promise: “’Return to me,’ declares the Lord Almighty, ‘and I will return to you’.”

“Return to me” is a synonym for repentance but it involves much more than a changing of the mind or heart. It is a transformed way of living. It is choosing a way of life; turning from “evil ways” (paths). It is a renewal of life; it is a reorientation. Listen again to the word of the Lord!

The people responded accordingly. They acknowledged the justice of God’s anger. They confessed the sins of their forefathers and humbled themselves before the Lord. God did what he said he would do. The people “repented.” 1:6b, in fact, may actually come from the setting of corporate worship—Yahweh is just; Yahweh kept his word; we deserved what we got. This communal confession prepares the way for God’s return, just as Israel’s repentance in response to the preaching of John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus.

The promise, however, is astounding. “I will return to you.” How did Judah hear that message? 520, the year Zechariah began his prophetic ministry, was the year Judah began to rebuild the temple. “I will return to you” is the return of divine glory; it was the renewal of cultic relationship and God’s presence among his people. “I will return to you” is the promise to dwell again in the temple just as Yahweh had in the Tabernacle and in Solomon’s temple. This is the message that shapes the visions and oracles of Zechariah.

Post-exilic believers doubted whether God would love them again. If we rebuild the temple, will God come back? Will God remember his promises? Will God love again? This is part of the purpose of 1 & 2 Chronicles exemplified in the divine promise of 2 Chronicles 7:12-16: if the people will seek him, God will come to them. God still loves Israel and will remain faithful to them.

The call to repentance is conjoined with the certainty of the word of God through the former prophets. Given that the word of the Lord accomplishes its purpose—even if in judgment—the people can rest assured in God’s word of promise. If they listen, God will come. If they rebuild the temple, God will dwell among them once again.

God has no desire to abandon his people. God wants to renew relationship. God wants to dwell again among his people. God has come to speak to his people, but will his people listen? If they listen, God will dwell among them. If they built it, God will come.

Lipscomb on Communism and Government

In 1878 Lipscomb was chastised by George W. Hanlin, a fellow-Tennesean, for his views on civil government.  The writer doubted whether we would have the freedom to worship God if the “good, truly pious mean of 1776″ had not framed our government. Christians should participate in politics because “laws were made to restrain bad people, and should only be made and administered by the best, most intelligent Christian men.”

In particular, Hanlin was appalled by a recent office-seeker who pledged the following:  ”God made this earth large, beautiful and free for all men. It is owned by comparatively few. Now, if the people will send me to the Legislature, I will endeavor to have a law enacted dividing it equally among us.” Hanlin argued that Christians must vote to keep such people out of office.  Sound familiar?  :-)

Lipscomb responded that the men of 1776 were not as godly as Hanlin thought they were (e.g., Jefferson was a Deist), and then wrote (Gospel Advocate, 1878, 488-89):

     I am to-day, more afraid of the preponderance of religious parties in the government than I am of the irreligious. The bane of the government has been religion in politics. The great source of corruption in the church has been its members mingling in the associations of the world, and in its mixing into the spirit of the worldly government. The best, most intelligent Christian men, generally become as corrupt in politics as those not Christians. This is nothing to the discredit of the Christian religion either, because the religion of Christ only proposes to save and purify those who remain faithfully under its influence. A good Christian man was murdered in our city a few days ago, because under the political influence he had taken a pistol to vindicate his father’s character.

     I had just as soon to-day live under the government of Great Britain as under the one I do live under, so far as religious influence is concerned.

     The chances are that the lawless communist of whom you speak is himself a professed Christian. If not he will be supported by men professing Christianity, just as freely as by others. We frequently hear Christians express just as bitter feelings against the rights of others as this man. That we are doomed to be cursed with Communistic tendencies, we think sure. Extremes beget extremes. This has been an age specially devoted to money making and money hoarding. This would naturally beget in the idle, the vicious and those who will not work, a disposition to prey upon the labor and toil of others. But the oppressors who gave the impetus to this communistic spirit and suggested the weapons to be used, are the wealthy themselves. While the country was at war, numbers grew rich off the misfortunes of the country. They bought government bonds at a low value; the war ended, the masses were poor–the few made rich. Not contented with the wealth thus gained, they used their riches to corrupt legislators, and by legislation to double their gains. They did it at that expense of the already impoverished tax-payers of the country. There never was an act of more high-handed robbery than the increasing of the value of the bonds of the United States to gold bearing bonds, thus doubling their value by legislation. To the extent that the bonds were increased by legislation, other taxable property was depreciated, rendered valueless.  That is, the property and its value, and the citizen’s right in his property were destroyed by legislation to the extent of its depreciation, to benefit another class. That retaliation would come, no man, not blinded by self-interest, could doubt. We are not saying a Christian ought to retaliate. But the popular doctrine is “Fight the devil with fire.” That means, if the devil steals, you steal, too; make yourself as mean as the devil. A Christian ought not to do this. But the world and its governments will do it and when Christians go into them, they imbibe of their spirit and will do the same thing that they do. The bondholders first set the example of legislating to increase the value of their property at the expense of the masses; the masses, in turn, say that we have the same right to legislate to increase the value of our property by depreciating yours. Hence a crusade in our United States to destroy the property of the bondholders by legislation. It is an easy step when the bond-owners and others have attacked the rights of one kind of property, for the bondless to attack the rights of men in another kind of property. This is Communism.

     The principle of communism was acted on when the bondholder’s property was doubled in value at the expense of others. Every man’s right in his property was destroyed to the extent it depreciated by legislation to the benefit of others.

     Every man who urged or helped the legislation to increase the value of his bonds at the expense of others, was aiding in communism. He was showing others how they could ge other people’s property without rendering a just equivalent for it. He was a communist with the rights and property of others when he was securing legislation to destroy the property of others, that his own might be increased.

     Every man now urging the repudiation in whole or in part of bonds, State or National, that his own property may be increased, is a communist. He is urging principles that may be turned against all property. He is placing a weapon in the communist’s hand that he will turn against all property right.

     In all these differing parties, maintaining and practicing communuistic principles, Christians are to be found as well as others. Christians voting will not alter results on this question a particle. Christian bondholders just as freely as others used their money to induce Christian legislators to increase their property by destroying that of others. Just a many Christian legislators. as those not Christians voted for this, for the sake of gain; just as many Christians as of others, are no destroying the property of others in bonds for their own benefit; just as many Christians will engage in the cry for the destruction of all property of others for their own benefit as of others.

     The Christian religion proposes to save men from dishonesty and sin by keeping them from dishonest, sinful associations and temptations. When they will go into these associations and temptations, they will steal and sin just like others. Don’t mistake me. This has been tried enough certainly to convince the most incredulous, if God’s word did not teach it. We think it infinitely better for the State, that a body of uncorrupted individuals should maintain morality and honor and act as a conservatory of morality and religion than that all should go into politics and be corrupted. Who could ever name the man that went into politics that did not become more or less demoralized and lose more or less of his religions and moral character and influence. Thousands make complete shipwrecks of their faith–all are demoralized. When one who is strong goes into politics and fails to become a castaway, he encourages others weak to go in who are ruined. “And through thy knowledge (strength) shall the weak brother perish for whom Christi died.” “But when ye sin so against the brethren, and wound their weak consciences, ye sin against Christ.” If one human soul is worth more than the world, what earthly good can compensate for a course that leads man to death.

     God always gave his people good government, good rulers when they trusted him and were willing for him to govern them. When they set up to govern themselves, choose their own rulers and manage their affairs after their own wisdom, instead of trusting God to govern them, he sent rulers to wast their substance, enslave their children and oppress their land. The people of the United States are not God’s people–his faithful disciples are his children. If they will trust him, be governed by him, he will give them a good ruler in the person of his Son. He permitted the disobedient nations to form governments and choose rulers that oppressed, overthrew, and destroyed their subjects. He overruled this wickedness that destroyed the wicked to his honor and his children’s good. “Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee. The remainder of wrath thou wilt restrain.” Psalms lxxvi:10. God ever rules the wrath of man to promote his honor and the good of his children, and restrains all beyond this. The civil governments of earth do not grow out of or succeed to God’s government of his people under Moses. The church of Christ succeeds, grows out of and is the antitype of God’s government of the Jews. The civil governments of earth are the successors and outgrowth of the rebellious in the days of Moses.

     We now, as in the days of Judaism, are unwilling to let God guide us, govern us or direct us. We must manage our affairs to suit ourselves; we sow the seed of communism, and we must expect to reap the fruit. But should even communism in its wildest fury sweep over the land as a bosom of destruction, God will bless and protect all that are faithful and trustful of him. If I could only be as trustful of him as I ought, none of these things would move or trouble me. Christians trusting to human governments are the antitype of the Jews trusting the Egyptians and Babylonians. They whom they trusted destroyed them. Read Isaiah 30 and 31.

S. P. Pittman on Lipscomb University in 1918

Samuel Parker Pitmann (1876-1965), a graduate who joined the faculty of the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University) in 1897, enjoyed a unique position to assess the values and interests of its founding fathers. He called James A. Harding his “father in the gospel” who taught him “the true philosophy of life” based on Matthew 6 and Romans 8:28 (e.g., trusting God).

His “Alumni Address” was published in the Gospel Advocate (4 July 1918) 626-628. In the midst of WWI and published on July 4th, he makes the following provocative statement near the end of his address.

“When this institution ceases to be a temple of justice and becomes simply a temple of learning; when it ceases to be a palace of peace and becomes instead a hall of fame, then let it go down amid the wreck and ruin of secular institutions.”

That is rather courageous at a time when pacifist writers were no longer publishing in the Gospel Advocate due to the threats of the United States government.

In addition, Pittman mentioned several interesting items about NBS:

• The “purpose for which this institution was founded” is “to help young build build their monuments–their characters.”
• “Brother Harding used to say that the Bible School had young ladies in it every year but one, and that was the most unsatisfactory session in the history of the school.”
• “Another feature of the school is that there is no separate course for ‘ministerial students.’ Those preparing to give their lives to the work of proclaiming the gospel may find opportunity to lay stress upon those branches of study most needed in their life work, but the gulf that already exists between clergy and laity, between priest and people, should be bridged, and it is the work of the Bible School to hasten that.”

The Argument for Excluding Wine from the Lord’s Supper

Silena Moore Holman (1850-1915) was a remarkable women in the early history of Churches of Christ. Her father was killed in the Civil War and she began teaching at the age of 14. She married Dr. T. P. Holman in 1875 and mothered eight children.

She exchanged multiple articles on multiple occasions with David Lipscomb in the pages of the Gospel Advocate as she argued for a wider role for women in the church.  Many of their exchanges are available at Hans Rollmann’s website.

She also served in the Tennessee Woman’s Christian Temperance Movement for 35 years, 15 years as President. In this capacity she argued for the exclusion of wine from the Lord’s table.

She articulated her argument in the Gospel Advocate (5 March 1903) 146-147. “We who plead for the use of unfermented, nonalcoholic wine at the Lord’s Supper should be read to give a reason for the faith that is in us”–and she does in thirteen points.

1. “The Lord’s Supper was instituted on the night of the feast of the passover, with the same elements as those used at that feast. We think that unleavened bread and unfermented wine were used at this feast.”

2. “Nowhere in the Bible is the drink used at the Lord’s Supper called ‘wine’.”

3.  ”‘The consistency and beauty of the sacramental symbols demand the absence of all fermented drinks’.”

4. “Our Savior spent his life in doing good.”

5. “We are warned repeatedly int he Bible against the use of wine.”

6. “It is a temptation to reformed drunkards.”

7. “Sometimes people who have been trained to habits of total abstinence seem to have an hereditary longing for alcoholic liquors.”

8. “It encourages the liquor traffic and the saloon.”

9. “It gives encouragement to the moderate drinker.”

10. Paul does not speak of drunks at the Lord’s table in 1 Corinthians 11, but it refers to excess as with gluttony.

11.  ”In the literature of the early centuries there are numerous references which show that unfermented wine was used at the Lord’s Supper in those day.”

12. “Some have thought it would have been impossible for the early Christians to secure the unfermented wine out of the vintage season, but this is a mistake. I have in my possession four recipes–used before, during, and after our Savior’s time–by which wine was preserved in an unfermented state.”

13. “‘Where are we to get the unfermented wine?’ asks a half-converted church member. It can be preserved, like any other canned fruit, in an ordinary fruit jar, by heating it and making it air tight, as other fruit is kept.”

She concludes: “I believe that when church members unite to drive this agent of evil from the inmost sanctuary of the churches the day will have arrived for ridding our country forever of the legalized liquor traffic; but as long as we foster its use in one of the most sacred institutions of religion, just so long will the evil remain to blight our land and ruin the lives of our people.”

Interestingly, the extended argument was needed and pushed by the Temperance Movement because churches generally, until very recently, had all used wine in the Lord’s Supper.

Mark 7:1-23 — The Ministry of Jesus Questioned

Jesus is now rising to the height of his popularity. People from the Galilean hills, around the lake, and from theDecapolisare flocking to him. The ministry of the apostles in the hills resulted in 5000 men, not counting women and children, following him into a deserted region. Jewish Galilee is electric with enthusiasm for Jesus.

Opposition had arisen in Galilee, particularly from the Pharisees and Herodians (Mark 3:6). Some noticed that Jesus ate with sinners (2:13-17), did not fast (2:18-22) and crossed traditional boundaries in Sabbath-keeping (2:23-3:6). However, a new presence appears in Mark’s narrative. “Pharisees and teachers of the law” came “from Jerusalem” to investigate Jesus. They immediately saw a problem and questioned Jesus about his adherence to the traditions of ritual purity.

“Unclean” (koinos) is a key word in this section of Mark. It refers to ritual defilement. The tradition established boundary markers that would ensure ritual purity—everything about which one is uncertain must be “washed.” This “washing” functioned as a line of purity—a boundary between the clean and the unclean. Practicing this boundary ensured purity.

Many within Second Temple Judaism (“all the Jews” is hyperbole since “sinners” did not practice such) went to great extremes to maintain this boundary. Not only would they wash their hands before eating anything, but they would “baptize”(baptisontai) themselves [perhaps an idiom for baptizing food bought in the marketplace] when they came home from the marketplace and “baptize” (baptismous) any utensils or articles associated with eating. Ritual baptisms (immersions) of the body as well as household objects was not uncommon. In fact, archaeological digs in the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem have uncovered “baptistries” (mikva’ot) in the basements of several wealthy homes. Going to such lengths, this ritual purity was part of the essential fabric of a devout life, according to “tradition of the elders.”

Jesus, of course, violated this tradition in many ways. He did not wash his hands before eating and consequently we might surmise that he did not follow the other “ritual purity” traditions of the elders either. His association with “sinners” (see Mark 2:13-17) and how the crowds “touched” him (see Mark 3:10; 6:56) meant that he was thoroughly defiled. Categorically, then, he was an unacceptable teacher and role model for piety, according to the tradition of the elders.

Why did Jesus flagrantly violate this “tradition”? Because the tradition subverted the heart of God. Those who practiced it were like the people in the time of Isaiah (29:13) who outwardly voiced piety but in their hearts they did not share God’s values. They were more interested in looking pious than being godly. The tradition of the elders separated humanity into two categories—clean and unclean—and demanded the pious withdraw from the unclean. Jesus refused to practice a tradition that abused others in such a way.

But it was a long cherished tradition, wasn’t it? Did it not provide boundaries for purity and keep the faithful from falling into sin? It was sort of like the tradition of the “Corban” (a gift to God). The function of the “Corban” was to provide a boundary. Anything over which one said “Corban” could only be used for God. One could still use it for one’s own life but ultimately it would be left to God and to no one else. (Some Jewish ossuaries have been discovered where Corban items were buried with the individual.)

While this may have originally functioned as a boundary such that a person would be obligated to give Corban items to God rather than chaning their minds, Jesus suggests that the practice was subject to abuse. For example, one could say “Corban” over their wealth and excuse themselves from supporting their parents in their old age. Given Jesus’ illustration, this may have been a rather common practice. In effect, Jesus says, the “Corban” tradition subverts the command of God to “honor father and mother.” This is but one example as Jesus accuses the Pharisees of doing “many things like” this. “Many things” reminds us Jesus is pointing to a pattern of life within Second Temple Judaism that is subversion of God’s heart.

But Jesus wants to return to the point at issue. It is not simply about traditions. Traditions have value; they can give stability to a way of life. But they are subversive only if they “nullify the word of God.” This is the problem with the ceremonial “washing” of one’s hands in water before eating. It is not about hygenics but about arrogant, perhaps even hypocritical, piety.

Jesus summarizes the point in a parable: nothing external renders a person “unclean;” rather, it is what comes outs out of people that defiles them. Whether one washes their hands or not has nothing to do with defilement or purity. On the contrary, purity or impurity is something that arises from within a person.

The parable seems fairly clear on the face of it but the disciples, stepped in the traditions of the elders, don’t understand it. “Are you so dull?” Jesus asks. It didn’t fit their mental box. For them it was natural to think about external defilements, whether people, diseases, things, etc. Entrenched in traditions humans have a tendency to define everything by the box in which they live. We, like the disciples, are often slow to see people how God sees them.

Clean and unclean, purity and impurity, are not external realities but internal ones. Nothing external can render a person “unclean,” particularly food since it goes into the stomach and, eventually, out the body. However, internal motives and desires—a person’s heart—can render a person unclean. Indeed, it is out of the impure heart that impure actions arise, including not only adultery, theft, murder and sexual immorality (what we might most often association with impurity) but also “greed, malice, deceit, lewdness [sensuality], envy [evil eye], slander, arrogance and folly.” These are all “evils” that arise out of an impure heart and thus make a person “unclean.”

Ultimately, Jesus defends his ministry. He walks among the common folk; he eats with sinners. He does not “purify” himself with ceremonial dippings. He does not withdraw with disgust from the “unclean,” but instead sits with them, eats with them and has daily contact with them.

Mark editorially notes that the parable and Jesus’ explanation “declared all foods ‘clean’.” More than that, however, he declared all people ritually “clean.” People are not defiled by social, political, or ethnic boundaries. They are only defiled by their hearts.

As the church follows Jesus into his ministry so that we eat at the tables where he ate and walk among the people with whom he shared life, we should remember that “all people are (ritually) clean.” That is, no one should be treated with disgust. No one deserves isolation. No one is to be kept at “arms length.”  Jesus, nor we, “wash our hands” in disgust after sitting with people. Instead of avoiding “unclean people” we, if we would follow Jesus, seek them, affirm their human dignity, and share life with them.

Tim Tebow and the Gift of Success

I now tread where every human should fear to go. So, why go there? I tire of  absolutist statements concerning Tim Tebow, God, and football games. That is probably not a very good motivation, but hopefully something positive will arise–maybe even a good conversation. (Or, maybe I just want more traffic at my website? That is a sobering thought. )

Does God care anything about football games?  Yes and No.

Yes….God delights in play. Play is part of God’s intent for humanity. All work and no play is workaholism. God’s creatures play–even the Leviathan, the great sea monster, plays in the ocean (Psalm 104:26). God delights in humanity’s play. Sport is part of the joy of life.

No…God, I imagine (though how could I ever really know), is not a fan, that is, God does not root for one side or another in the sense that God’s mood is affected by wins and loses. God is not a Pittsburgh fan that grieves their loss nor is he a Bronco fan that rejoices in the defeat of the Steelers.

Ultimately, it seems to me God is not interested in games but in people.  Interested in people, can not God gift some people with success on particular occasions?

This is not a gift based on some kind of prosperity gospel, that is, “Tim Tebow is a believer…therefore he will succeed.” Rather, it is a gift based on grace, and God gifts many people with success who do not have a Christian bone in their body. God gives wealth and empowers rulers.

When God gifts people with success–a gift that is cooperatively received by those so gifted–God holds them accountable.  What will they do with that success? God tests the wealthy.

What is seemingly impressive about Tim Tebow is that (1) he gives thanks for his success and recognizes it as a gift, (2) he does not blame God for his failures, and (3) he is committed to using that success for the growth of the kingdom of God.

Perhaps the gift of success that God has given Tebow–however long-lasting or short-lived it is (and it may be very short-lived, like, 1/2 a season)–is something that is possibly kingdom-affirming and kingdom-promoting. Perhaps God’s gift to Tebow will result in feeding the hungry, healing the sick and saving some children from death.

Rachel Held Evans tweeted: “So God’s busy altering the outcome of a football game when 30,000 children died from preventable disease today? Got it.”

I find that tweet significantly short-sighted. That God is too small. Why is one mutually exclusive of the other? Could it be that the gift of success is one of God’s means for healing some of these children–one means among many that God is now using or preparing. Perhaps God is even now preparing a person whose financial success will enable funding a cure for cancer, or drilling wells in Africa, or…..other kingdom work.

Paul does say “give thanks in everything”…..including our play as well as our work. God gives success, but also God gives failures (think about Job for a moment).  In both God is looking for witnesses to the reign of God in the world.

I don’t think Tebow wins because God is a Broncos fan or even that Tebow is one of God’s favorites. But perhaps Tebow’s success (and our own too) is something God enables for the sake of the kingdom of God. And there will be days when Tebow will not succeed and God will be good with that since even  Tebow’s failures (and ours as well) will be opportunities for bearing witness to the kingdom of God.

The danger for Tim Tebow (as it is in everyone’s success) is the potential for pride and the revelation that everyone has clay feet, even Tim Tebow (and certainly I do).

The kingdom of God, of course, does not depend on anyone. God will usher in his kingdom by whatever means God desires.

Can God use a football game for the sake of his kingdom?  Absolutely. To think otherwise is to remove God from the daily moments of our lives. That God is too small.

Is Tim Tebow God’s favorite and thus he will win the Super Bowl this year? There is no evidence that God’s favorites win the Super Bowl, and I don’t think Tim is any more one of God’s favorite than I am. We are both loved–as are all the dying children in the world–by God.

God loves play but God loves play because God loves people. God is not a football fan; God is a Tebow fan….and a John Mark Hicks fan…and your fan as well. God is especially fond of each of us.

Zechariah’s Eight Visions (Zechariah 1:7-6:8)

The visions of Zechariah renew the Abrahamic promise to post-exilic Israel—God intends to bless Israel so that all nations might be blessed.

The word of Yahweh given to Zechariah for the people is “Return to me, and I will return to you.” This message comes to Zechariah through a series of eight night visions on February 15, 519 BCE during the reign of the Persian Emperor Darius the Great (1:7). The eight visions communicate the basic message in a dramatic way through what Zechariah sees.

Scholars generally agree that the eight visions have a chiastic structure though the interpretations vary somewhat. This may be pictured in the following way:

1. Myrtle Trees – Peace among the Nations in the Earth (1:7-17).

2. Four Horns – Judgment of the Nations for their Evil (1:8-21).

3. Measuring Line – The Habitation of Jerusalem (2:1-13).

4. Joshua – Restoration of the Priestly Line (3:1-10).

5. Zerubbabel – Restoration of the Royal Line (4:1-14).

6. Flying Scroll – Removal of Sin from Israel (5:1-4).

7. Woman in a Basket – Removal of Sin from the Nations (5:5-11).

8. Four Chariots – Peace among the Nations in the Earth (6:1-8).

The visions begin and end with peace among the nations. The first peace, however, is illusionary because the land of Israel and Jerusalem are still lamenting their loss. In contrast the final peace is the result of God’s renewal of his grace toward Israel and Jerusalem.

The second and seventh visions focus on the nations as well. While the first vision judges them for their malicious treatment of God’s people, the seventh vision sees the removal of the wickedness of the nations that prepares for peace on the earth among the nations.

The third and sixth visions focus on Israel in their land. The resettlement and prosperity of Jerusalem in the third vision is connected to the removal of sin from the land by the return of God to the temple.

The fourth and fifth visions are the restoration of the royal and priestly lines to Israel in a functioning theocratic and cultic (temple) nation. God again reigns from the temple in Jerusalem and heals the wounds of his people.

The visions, then, move us from a picture of the earth (nations) through the Holy Land (Israel) to the cultic center of Israel (the temple in Jerusalem) and then out of Jerusalem through the Holy Land to the whole earth. God is moving among the nations to show mercy to the land of Israel through renewing temple presence in order that Israel might be a blessing to the nations (the whole earth).

The visions of Zechariah renew the Abrahamic promise to post-exilic Israel—God intends to bless Israel so that all nations might be blessed.

In the coming weeks, I will post on each vision.

Zechariah 1:7-17 — The Vision Among the Myrtle Trees

Zechariah sees a rider on a “red” (more like reddish-brown) horse among myrtle trees in a “glen.” Behind this rider is an indefinite number of horses with a range of colors which reflect the variety of horses within the Persian Empire. Scouting is the only function given these horses (and their unidentified riders)—they “patrol the earth.” Their patrol reports that the “the whole earth remains at peace.”

This is imperial language; it is the langue of the Persian Empire. Scouts range throughout the earth and report back to the king on the status of the empire. The empire is at peace. The Persians have defeated Babylon and quelled recent rebellions (specifically one in 520 BCE). In 519 BCE the empire is at “peace.”

But Zechariah is not looking at an earthly imperial court. On the contrary, he sees an angelic council. The rider on the “red” horse is the “angel of the Lord.” He receives the report from the other riders. They report “peace.” The word means “settled” or “at rest” and is often used negatively (see Isaiah 30:7; Ezekiel 16:49; Jeremiah 48:11). This is not shalom. This peace is the result of the sins of the empire, and this imperial peace was accomplished through injustice and inhumanity. This kind of peace Yahweh will “shake” as Haggai promised (Haggai 1:21). God will judge the nations (Zechariah 1:18-21). The “peace” of the nations is not the shalom of the reign of God.

The angel of the Lord does not think the situation is one of shalom. After receiving the report, the angel intercedes for Judah and Jerusalem with a lament. “How long, O Lord of hosts, will you withhold mercy” from your people? Israel’s lament has continued for 70 years (605-536 which dates from the first deportation to the first return of the exiles, or 587-516 which dates from the destruction of the temple to its rebuilding, or perhaps it is simply a symbolic number for divine anger against a sanctuary). Here the angel speaks for the people and voices their pain before Yahweh.

The lament assumes that Yahweh determines the shalom of Jerusalem and not the Persian Emperor. Yahweh reigns over the earth, not the Emperor. God is sovereign over situation and thus the angel of Yahweh appeals to the one who can act in mercy toward Jerusalem. It does not lie within Persia’s hands.

Yahweh responds with mercy and zeal. God is both zealous for Jerusalem and angry with the nations. God is jealous–passionate zeal; God is committed to Israel. He will show mercy. He remembers his covenant, faithful love toward Jerusalem. At the same time Yahweh is angry with the nations because though the administered his justice they did it with “evil” (ra’ah)—they acted with malice, cruelty, and inhumanity. Their injustice angered Yahweh. God will show mercy to Israel and judge the nations.

God will renew the prosperity of Jerusalem. In fact, it will be a veritable urban explosion. The cities of Judah will overflow with people, prosperity and divine presence. The temple will be rebuilt. God will choose Jerusalem again and return in mercy to Judah. Post-exilic Judah felt abandoned but now Zechariah reassures them that God has chosen them.

Zechariah actually sees a new exodus. Myrtle trees are associated with the Feast of Tabernacles (Leviticus 23:44; Nehemiah 8:15)—one kind of wood used to make booths (tents) that represented Israel’s wilderness wandering. Moreover, the word for “glen” may refer to a pre-exilic garden in the Kidron valley (2 Kings 25:4; located between the two mountains mentioned later) but the word also has Exodus and Creation overtones. For example, it is the word for “depths” in Exodus 15:5 as well as the waters of Psalm 107:24. What God is about to do is not only a new exodus; it is also a new creation. God is going to do something so wondrous that the language of creation appropriately describes it.

But is the rebuilt temple of 516 the fulfillment of Zechariah’s vision? Certainly it is a provisional one that is immediate to Zechariah’s situation. However, reading Zechariah canonically, there is more. Second Temple Judaism thought they were still in exile as they lived under Roman oppression in the first century. The promises of the prophets, including Zechariah, had not yet been fully realized. Second Temple Judaism still waited for the reality that Zechariah sees here.

Some argue that the angel of Yahweh is a Christophany. Perhaps. It would not be in Zechariah’s mind, of course, but we do not expect the prophets to fully understand what they see. But more to the point is that the fulfillment is ultimately—thinking canonically—Christological.

God ultimately returns to the temple…in the flesh. God pours out the Spirit on the new temple of God…his people. Through incarnation and Spirit-outpouring God blesses the nations. God will come again to the earth to fully renew it and heal the nations in the new heaven and new earth, in the new Jerusalem.

But this is only the first of eight visions…..more to come.

Zechariah 1:18-21 — The Vision of the Four Horns

Zechariah’s second vision continues a theme that was only briefly noted in the first vision, that is, Yahweh is angry with the nations who treated Judah with “evil” (ra’ah; 1:15).

Zechariah, presumably having lowered his eyes to reflect on the first vision, now looks up to see a second vision. Here he sees “four horns.” The angel identifies the horns as the nations that scattered “Judah, Israel and Jerusalem.” It is important to note that the angel includes “Israel” (the northern kingdom) who was scattered by the Assyrian Empire as well as the Babylonian Empire that scattered Judah (the southern kingdom).

“Horns” are ancient symbols of strength. The represent power as the horns of oxen and bulls terrify whomever they encounter. Presumably Zechariah does not see isolated horns floating in the air or lying on the ground, but he sees horns on powerful, terrifying animals. But, in the end, these “horns” will themselves fear the God who opposes them.

There is no need to press the number “four” and attempt to identify four specific enemies. The number four more likely is symbolic of the four ends of the earth (cf. Zechariah 6:5) or the “four winds of the earth” (cf. Zechariah 2:6), that is, the nations were arrayed against the people of God. The whole earth (“four” representing the ends/winds of the earth) opposed and oppressed God’s people from the time of the Divided Monarchy. The nations were always arrayed against the kingdom of God.

Having asked the angel what the “horns” are, Yahweh shows Zechariah the “four blacksmiths.” They are the agents of destruction; they will defeat the nations that scattered Judah. Just as the nations lifted their horns against Judah, so Yahweh will lift the hammers of his blacksmiths against the nations.

This is no contest. The nations are no match for Yahweh. God is sovereign over the nations. He used them to punish Judah but in their zeal they treated Judah maliciously. Now God judges the nations. This is another example of the great reversal theme that appears throughout Scripture. God reverses the fortunes of Israel; Yahweh liberates them again by defeating the nations. It is another Exodus of sorts as God once delivered Israel from Egypt (one of the nations).

Judah need not fear. God will terrify the nations and they will no longer terrify Judah.

In Second Temple Judaism Israel still lived under the burden of Roman oppression. The nations still had the upper hand. But the hope of Israel was that one would come to strike the nations, rule them and turn the kingdom of this world into the kingdom of the Christ. That is the story of the Apocalypse of Jesus Christ—a vision seen by John and heard by the church. It is still the hope of the people of God.

David Lipscomb’s “Thoughts Suggested by the Political Contest”

In 1896, the people of the United States elected William McKinley (Republican) over William Jennings Bryan (Democrat). McKinley lead a voting block of wealthy business people, skilled factory workers, large farm owners and professionals located mainly in the Northeast, Midwest and West coast that defeated Bryan’s Southern and Rocky Mountain constituency. McKinley defeated Bryan 51% to 47% in the popular vote and 271 electoral votes to 176.

Below is David Lipscomb’s editorial comment on the election in the November 12, 1896 issue of the Gospel Advocate. Lipscomb saw this election as a victory for the wealthy and in injustice to the poor. Siding with the poor and the laborer, Lipscomb calls Christians to act justly and remember the poor.

Christians “have duties to fulfill with reference to all questions that arise in society—that is, to stand on the side of right and justice, to study the moral questions that arise in the affairs of the world, and warn as to the principles of right and justice.  These, in the end, must prevail; and he who teaches these benefits humanity.”

 Christians can exert a moral and restraining influence upon the ungodly by teaching moderation and unselfishness.  It is not only their duty to teach right; it is also their duty to teach that persistence in wrong must bring ruin to the wrongdoer. Wrong may run a smooth course for a time, but destruction is sure in the end.  Wrong and injustice cannot permanently prosper….

Jesus taught the dignity and honor of labor.  He would be greatest of all, let him be servant of all.  His sympathies were with the poor, the laborer, those humble in station, not with the rich or exalted.  In the end the dignity and honor of labor must prevail and its rights be vindicated.  Those possessed of riches may deal justly and cease to legislate for capital and help labor.  That is Christian, and would be wise policy, and would prevent violent conflict.  If they pursue a selfish course, then a violent convulsion must be the end.

Christians may do good to the world not by entering into strifes and conflicts over the questions that arise in this contest, but by teaching justice and right and by impressing the lesson that the selfish accumulation of money or the selfish exercise of power, without regard to the rights and needs of others, but lead to a violent end.  Things will be righted.  God gives us the invitation to right them and be blessed.  If we do not right them, he will.  He rights wrongs often by making wrongdoers destroy each other.  Wickedness destroys wickedness.”

Lipscomb is not apolitical in the sense of disengaged from the world. Rather, Christians are to engage the culture in which they live and promote good wherever possible.

Lipscomb’s “Things will be righted” sounds very similar to N. T. Wright’s “put things to right.” They share a similar eschatology, especially about new heavens and new earth. Lipscomb, however, does not think this is simply about eschatology in the sense of a “one day this will happen” (any more than Wright does). God calls us to right wrongs along side of God’s own work. God is active in the world to “put things to right” even now as God permits “wickedness” to destroy “wickedness.”

Mark 7:24-37 — Crumbs for the Dogs, Dignity for Humanity

After the aborted attempt to give his disciples some rest (Mark 6:30-34), Jesus now withdraws from the popularity and press of the crowds in Galilee to the regions of Tyre and Sidon on the Phoenician coast (modern Lebanon). This is not a far journey–only 30-50 miles or so—but Jesus takes his disciples into a Gentile region of northern Palestine. He had done this previously when he crossed the lake of Galilee into the Decapolis (Mark 5:1-20). He was not able to stay there long. This time Jesus goes in the opposite direction toward the Mediterranean Sea.

Importantly, Mark places this story next to the previous discussion of what is “unclean” (7:1-24). Jesus goes to what many would regard as an “unclean region.” The categories of clean/unclean are not boundary markers for Jesus. His entrance into a Gentile region of Palestine reflects his willingness to cross boundaries that restrained others.

Mark uses a formula which indicates that Jesus’ interests are privacy and rest: Jesus “left that place” (cf. 9:30-31) and found a house in which he could spend some private time with his disciples. Perhaps in the predominantly Gentile coastal region Jesus will find some rest and escape the crowds that relentlessly press him in Galilee. Tyre and Sidon are part of the Syrian province of Rome and thus Jesus has crossed political lines (moving from the region of the Herodians who want to kill him [3:6] to a region where, presumably, he would be relatively unknown to the political leaders). But Jesus was not unknown in this region. Mark has already noted that some had already travelled from “Tyre and Sidon” to Galilee for healing (Mark 3:8).

As a result, Jesus’ presence in the “vicinity of Tyre” does not go unnoticed. Desperate people can go to great lengths to find the help they need—especially a parent for a child. A Greek-speaking, Syro-Phonecian mother finds Jesus to beg for the healing of her daughter. Jesus encounters a Gentile mother who intercedes for her daughter.

What does Jesus do with this request? He responds that the children must first eat at the table before the scraps are tossed to the dogs. Does that seem a bit harsh? It is important to recognize the proverbial character of the language. The word “dog” here is not the common derogatory term that represents some kind of hostility. Rather, it is a diminutive, that is, “little dogs” like house dogs or domesticated pets (perhaps functionally equivalent to “puppy”). The proverb refers to the relations within a household; and it is not name calling. Allen Black in his College Press commentary on Mark (p. 137; n. 16) suggests it is like Joe asking Bill whether he should bring up an issue with his wife and Bill responds with the proverb, “Let sleeping dogs lie.” Bill is not calling Joe’s wife a “dog” but is answering the question with a proverb. Jesus does something similar here.

The woman has a quick, spunky, and clever reply which may reflect the Markan intent that we read this story in the light of Jesus’ interest in testing or probing the faith of this mother. The mother is persistent and pushes back for the sake of her daughter. Perhaps he responds with the proverb to see how she will respond. Will her faith persist in her request or will she turn away?

Her response assumes the world that Jesus has pictured. Indeed, she is a house (“little”) dog and does not presume to be one of the children. But even house dogs wander around table waiting for the crumbs that the children may drop. She is asking Jesus for the overflow—the crumbs from the disciple’s rest. Her response touches Jesus and her daughter is healed. Jesus exoricizes the demon from a distance but in response to the faith of this Gentile mother.

Who are the children and who are the dogs in this proverb? William Lane, in his commentary on Mark, suggests that the “children” are the disciples who need rest and the “dogs” are those to whom they minister. The children (disciples) need to eat, that is, they need their rest. There will be a time for others to receive what the need but that time is not now. This may be the primary referent in Mark.

However, most others see a Jewish-Gentile theme here. This is certainly how Matthew interprets this incident (cf. Matthew 15:21-28). Jesus is sent to the Jews first (the children), but ultimately the Gentiles (dogs) will be fed as well. This is not explicit in Mark but it fits a canonical reading of the Christian story as we see the followers of Jesus include the Gentiles in the coming years and Mark’s narrative does anticipate the inclusion of the Gentiles at several points.

After a period of rest, Jesus returns to the sea of Galilee through the Decapolis, presumably on the eastern side of the lake. Jesus took a circuitous route back through Gentile lands to the lake in order to avoid the crowds in Galilee. Even in the Decapolis, however, the needy await him and his healing ministry resumes. Mark singles out the story of a deaf-mute (or possibly a deaf man who had a speech impediment).

Jesus takes him aside privately—separate from the crowds—to focus his attention on this man. Jesus, perhaps to communicate with this man, uses unique means for healing. He plugs his fingers into the man’s ears and puts his saliva on the man’s tongue. These are powerful symbolic gestures that communicate his intent to heal.

When Jesus prays, he “sighs” (from the verb stenazo) which means to groan in the sense of grieving. Paul uses both the verb and noun (stenagmos) for the painful groanings which the Spirit interprets but we ourselves find it difficult to utter (Romans 8:23, 26). Jesus grieves over the brokenness of the world as he prays for this deaf mute. Jesus feels the pain of the world in which he participates. He sighs with humanity.

Mark highlights this healing with the detail description, using the Aramaic word (ephphatha) for the healing command just as he did with the raising of Jarius’ daughter (Mark 5:41), and the resultant command to not tell anyone. This is the “Messianic secret” theme once again and it is pronounced here as the Markan text moves closer to the announcement that Jesus is the Christ (8:29). But the people cannot keep quiet. They are seeing what Isaiah anticipated (Isaiah 35:5-6). Mark expresses the amazement of the people—“he even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”

The final saying is functionally a praise chorus with three lines. It is the joy of the redeemed and the wonder of those who bear witness.

He has done well,
     he makes the deaf to hear,
          he makes the mute to speak.

The healing of a ear and mouth was anticipated in Isaiah’s picture of redemption in Isaiah. Moreover, and most significantly, such healings bear witness to a coming time when there will be no more sorrow or sighing (stenagmos in the LXX; Isaiah 35:10). Symbolically—and theologically—the Markan narration has reached a threshold. Jesus’ miracles have mounted in number and scope. He has raised the dead, calmed the chaos of the sea, exercised authority over hostile powers (demons), and restored human dignity to a leper and now to a deaf-mute. He is dispelling the darkeness and renewing joy. He is recreating the world; he is “doing good.”

The miracles are not mere displays of power or simply expressions of compassion. They are divine acts of reversal. They reverse the brokenness of the world—the deaf can hear, the mute can speak, the dead live, chaos is conquered, and the demons are defanged. A new world—the kingdom of God, the reign of God—is emerging. Jesus is the presence of the reign of God in the world which brings healing, peace, justice and righteousness.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to participate in that mission, to participate in reign of God by healing the brokenness of the world and reversing the curse. Disciples of Jesus sigh over the brokenness, pray for the broken and act for their sake.

Zechariah 2:1-13 — The Vision of the Measuring Line

Zechariah sees a man with a measuring line in his hand. He is about to measure the length of Jerusalem’s borders, partly for the purpose of erecting a wall around it. Jerusalem needs protection from its enemies. Though Pax Persiana has brought peace among the nations, this does not secure Jerusalem from its regional enemies (cf. Nehemiah 2:7-10; Ezra 3:3; 8:31). Jerusalem is a small city without resources for its own protection. It needs a wall.

Though the man is commissioned to measure Jerusalem and prepare for the building of the temple (cf. Zechariah 1:16), Yahweh denies the builders a wall for Jerusalem. The wall represented, at this point in Judah’s history, a lack of trust in Yahweh’s protection and it also limited the size of the city. Yahweh has bigger plans for Jerusalem than any wall will permit. Yahweh wanted Jerusalem to have a larger vision for itself than it could imagine.

City walls would delimit the population; it would restrict the number of people who could live there. The message of Zechariah envisions a time when the city would overflow with people and animals. The habitation of Jerusalem would far exceed anything in the past or present. God intends to renew life in the city, but a city without walls.

Yahweh will be a “wall of fire” around Jerusalem—it does not need a wall. This language evokes Exodus imagery, particularly the pillar of fire that protected Israel from Egyptian pursuit (Exodus 14:23-25). God is the wall that surrounds the city. Divine presence protects the city because Yahweh “will be the glory within” it. The glory of the Lord is the dwelling, communing presence of God among his people (Exodus 24:17). The hope of exilic Israel was the return of the glory of God to the temple (Ezekiel 43:1-5) and Zechariah’s message promises it. God will again live in Jerusalem.

The report of the vision in Zechariah 2:1-5 is followed by two oracles: (1) the invitation to return to Jerusalem (2:6-9) and (2) the invitation to rejoice over God’s redemptive plan (2:10-12). The first oracle is both a call for return and an assurance of divine judgment against the nations. The second oracle is the assurance of divine presence that contains a promise for the nations.

The first invitation is two imperatives (“flee” and “escape”) followed by two rationales (“for”). The imperatives are parallel—“flee from the land of the north” is parallel with “escape, you who live in the Daughter of Babylon.” The “land of the north” is a common way of referring to Mesopotamia as the armies from that region approached Palestine from the north. While the primary referent is Babylon, it appears that this is an invitation not only for Jews in Babylon but also for those who had been scattered to the “four winds” by the four horns (second vision). Israel and Judah were not only exiled in Assyrian and Babylon but they were also scattered to Egypt, Ammon, Moab and Edom (cf. Jeremiah 40:11-12; 43:7).

The reason why they should return from the Diaspora (the scattering) is because Yahweh sent the angel of the Lord to the nations to subvert them. The result will be that their slaves will topple those governments. Because the nations treated Israel maliciously (with evil, 1:15) and plundered them, the slaves of those nations will now plunder them. The future of the earth lies with Judah and Jerusalem; it does not lie with the nations, even Persia. God does not invest in Empires to embody his kingdom upon the earth. Israel is the “apple of [God’s] eye”—Yahweh identifies with his people. His covenant faithfulness means that God will always love his people.

When the nations fall, then all the earth will know that Yahweh sent his angel against the nations. Even the nations themselves will confess that Yahweh is God.

The second invitation is a dual imperative: “shout and be glad.” Judah and Jerusalem (the daughter of Zion) are called to rejoice because God is coming to live among them again. The joy of this divine coming in glory—the moment when God again takes up residence in Jerusalem—is heightened by the astounding promise that the nations “will be joined with Yahweh in that day and will become my people.”

Amazingly, even surprisingly, the nations will become the people of God (though this was promised in earlier prophets as well, cf. Isaiah 19:25). The promise made to Israel in Leviticus 26:11-12, that God will live and walk among his people, is now promised to all nations. When the nations become the people of God, God will live and dwell among them. When Israel sees this happen they will know that Yahweh sent the angel of the Lord to them.

Yahweh has chosen Jerusalem. But he did not choose a Jerusalem with walls and boundaries. He chose a place to which the nations would come. He chose a city where the nations would experience the dwelling of God upon the earth. Yahweh inherits the land of Judah—he makes it holy by his presence, and he invites the nations to dwell upon the earth with him.

Israel is called to rejoice in this promise because in this Israel fulfills its mission to the world. They are a people through whom God will bless all nations. Israel is to rejoice in the fulfillment of the Abrahamic promise. In “that day” Israel and the nations will become one people of God and God will live among them.

The city without walls that Zechariah envisions is a city without boundaries. It is a city into which the nations are invited and the whole earth participates in the reality of the kingdom of God. Jerusalem has no walls because it is an open city for all nations. The scattering of Israel ultimately bears fruit in the gathering of the nations by which God blesses all nations through Israel.

The third vision ends with a call for universal silence before Yahweh (Zechariah 2:13). God has roused himself from his heavenly dwelling place to fulfill his promise. The earth, literally “all flesh,” must “be still” before the God who is about to act. All flesh bows before the Lord of Hosts.

“Let everything that breathes praise Yahweh” (Psalm 150:6).

Mark 8:1-10 — Table Ministry Among the Gentiles

Jesus resumed his kingdom ministry when he returned to the sea of Galilee from the regions of Tyre and Sidon. After some time (“in those days”) Jesus was followed by a large crowd (4,000 people) into a remote place where food was not easily accessible. Mark describes this area as a “wilderness” (8:4) and uses a cognate of the term he has previously employed to describe Jesus’ time in the Judean desert (1:12-13), his moments of solitude (1:35, 45) and the previous feeding of the 5,000 (6:31-32, 35).Israel, following Jesus, once again finds themselves in the wilderness.

It is uncertain where this “wilderness” is. Jesus is probably ministering in the Decapolis on the eastern or northeastern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Whatever the region, at the close of the story Jesus gets into a boat and crosses over to “Dalmanutha.” But this  place name is unknown in any other source. The parallel in Matthew (15:39) names it Magadan (which may be another name for Magdala located on the west side of the sea). Presumably, then, Jesus is still on the eastern/northeastern side of the lake in the Decapolis.

As with the feeding of the 5,000 (Mark 6:30-44), the remote location creates a problem. No food is readily accessible for such a large crowd. Many had come from a “long distance” to be with Jesus and they had been there for “three days” without food. These notes may be purely situational in order to describe the desperate situation of the people, but they may also have theological significance about the Gentile mission (“far off”) and typify “three days” in the wilderness just as Jesus was three days in the tomb (cf. Mark 8:31; 14:58; 15:29).

Jesus shares his feelings about the situation with his disciples: “I have compassion on these people.” Loving people entails feeding people as well as teaching them. Compassion moved Jesus to postpone his rest in order to teach the 5,000 (Mark 6:34), but here it moves him to feed them. The missional nature of this event is evident: compassion is part of the motivation for kingdom ministry. We teach and feed people because we love them. To love our neighbor is not only to teach them but to feed them as well.

The disciples, however, are confused by Jesus’ statement. How are they going to feed 4,000 people? Well….duh. One would think that they might remember the previous occasion and trust Jesus. But the disciples can only look at their own resources—they are in the “wilderness.” Food is not available. They only have seven loaves and a “few fish.” But was that not enough previously? And it is enough this time.

The people are asked to “recline”—“sit down” does not give the full impact of this language. This is a festive meal that is characterized by reclining. It is celebratory, relaxed–a meal among friends. Jesus is hosting a banquet for hungry people in the wilderness. Like at the Last Supper (Mark 14:22), as well as the previous feeding of thousands (Mark 6:41), Jesus eucharistically breaks bread at the table with his disciples.

The abundance of the meal is signaled not only by the fact that everyone was satisfied (“filled”) but by the huge amount of leftovers. Seven basketfuls of food remained. But is that not less than in the previous feeding which had twelve basketfuls? Actually, it isn’t. The word for basket in Mark 6:43 refers to something like the size of a lunch box but the word in Mark 8:9 refers to a basket large enough to lift a person over a wall (cf. Acts 9:25). The leftovers could have fed hundreds more. God’s provision is overflowing.

The parallels between the feeding of the 4,000 and the 5,000 raise the question about why the different numbers: twelve “baskets” in Mark 6 and seven “baskets” in Mark 8. Why the difference? It may simply be a factual report, but even then why these “facts”? Are we to suppose the twelve in Mark 6 is a significant symbol for Israel but the number seven has no symbolic meaning? It may be that “seven” symbolizes “wholeness” and inclusiveness and thus symbolizing the Gentile inclusion in this meal.

Some have suggested that the 4,000 included both Jew and Gentile. This is partly based on the fact that this happened in the Decapolis (a Gentile region but where many Jews lived) and the statement many “came from far” may allude to Joshua 9:6, 9 and Isaiah 60:4. This was a typical way of referring to Gentiles (cf. Acts 2:39). Others also note that Mark substituted “giving thanks” (8:6) for “blessing” (6:41) which is more typical of Gentile audiences than Jewish, and that the number seven rather than twelve may represent an inclusive number in contrast with a typically Jewish numeral. Perhaps Mark intends to paint an inclusive picture here that prefigures the Gentile mission though one wonders if he might not been more explicit about it as he was with the Syro-Phoenician woman (7:26). Allusions to Gentile inclusion seem present and it is difficult to imagine that no Gentiles would be present among the 4,000 on the eastern or northeastern side of the lake.

If this is the case, the meal setting points us toward the inclusive nature of the Lord’s table. Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks it and gives it, just as he does at the Last Supper (Mark 14:22). Mark’s first readers would not miss the literary and linguistic links as well as the theological linkage. After three days, Jesus rose from the dead to host his table in the kingdom of God. Those who are “afar off” are invited to this table as well as the people of Israel. In his compassion Jesus feeds those who have followed him into the wilderness, and he continues to feed disciples today through the Eucharist. Disciples still sit with Jesus at the table.

Parallels between Mark 6 and Mark 8*

Theme	Feeding 5,000 Males	Feeding 4,000 people
Compassion	6:34	8:2
Wilderness	6:35	8:4
“How many loaves do you have?”	6:38	8:5
Fish	6:38	8:7
Command to Recline	6:39	8:6
Last Supper Formula	6:41	8:6
Satisfied	6:42	8:8
Leftovers	6:43	8:8
Dismissed Crowd	6:45	8:9
Disciples in a Boat	6:45	8:10

*Based on William Lane’s NIC commentary on Mark, p. 271, n. 8.

King, Lipscomb and the Spirit of War

On April 4, 1967 Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered a courageous speech against the Vietnam War at the Riverside Church in New York City. The speech is a principled statement against war itself.

David Lipscomb, on the eve of the Spanish-American War, offered a principled statement against the “spirit” of war. That “spirit” stands in radical contrast with the “Spirit” of Jesus Christ.

Like King, Lipscomb’s statement rings loudly in our contemporary ears as a call for Christian introspection about the “spirit of war.” Here is part of his editorial statement in the April 28, 1898 Gospel Advocate (p. 269):

War is disastrous to all prosperity and good of a people.  It may for a time create activity in business in preparing for and caring on a conflict, but it must result permanently in more taxes and less to pay with.  The people pay all the cost of war.  But the material injury produced by war is the least harmful of its effects.  The destruction of life and the sorrow of heart it brings to surviving friends and relations appeal more directly to our sympathies since we see the suffering and distress; but above these is the moral and spiritual effect.  War is hurtful to all true moral and spiritual good in people.  These are the highest and most lasting interests of the people.  We do not see the awful results with our natural senses, but they are widespread and lasting.  It is strange that a professed follower of the Son of God can approve of the war spirit for a moment.  It is distressing to see how professed Christians, in and out of Congress, preachers and privates, can be carried away with, and encourage and foment, this spirit of war.  It is contrary to the whole spirit of the religion of Jesus Christ.  When a man professes to be follower of Jesus he professes to try to do like Jesus.  That is what being a Christian means. Every Christian is pledged to what Jesus would do were he in his place.  Just what Jesus would do, were he in person, is what the follower of Jesus must do.  Does any one believe that if Jesus were here he would make war speeches and encourage the spirit of war?  Would Jesus join the army of the United States to fight Spain, or join the army of Spain to fight the United States?  Would he thus fight against himself?  Would he kill and destroy?

Wars and strifes will continue while human governments exist, and God will overrule them for his own purposes; but the Christian’s citizenship is in heaven, and his duty is to perform the offices of love and good will to all men of every color and kindred and nation, but to destroy none.  Jesus sent him into this world as sheep among wolves, to do good for evil, and to pray for them who despitefully use and persecute them.  Jesus did not lay this principle aside in any other troubles and persecutions that came upon him.  His true followers must not do it.  But when men vote to send others to war, they ought to go themselves.  The evil being in participating in the political strifes and conflicts of human governments, drinking in a spirit that is of man not of God.  Unless we have the spirit of Christ, we are none of his.

Both King’s speech and Lipscomb’s editorial are powerful articulations of a Christian perspective. Both, in their own times and circumstances–and neither was perfect or beyond criticism–sought to love their neighbors whatever their “color and kindred and nation.”

To love your neighbor entails loving your enemies. That is the “Spirit” of Christ. Are we his or do we belong to someone or something (like a nation) else?

Mark 8:11-21 — The Leaven of the Pharisees and Herodians

Following the feeding of the 4,000 in the Decapolis on the eastern side of the Galilean Sea, Jesus and his disciples crossed over to the other side on the western shore, probably near Magdala. Jesus is now back among the Jewish villages of Galilee and immediately he faces opposition.

Some Pharisees continue their argument with him as they probed the origin of his authority in miracle-working and teaching. Earlier in Mark Jewish leaders had questioned his authority to forgive sin (Mark 2:6) and his breaking of the Sabbath (Mark 2:24). Jewish leaders fromJerusalem attributed his authority over demons to Satan (Mark 3:22).

In light of Jesus’ kingdom ministry of teaching and healing, Galilean Pharisees wanted proof. What is the “sign from heaven” that you have authority to do these things? It appears that they are not simply asking for a miracle. Jesus has done many of those and in their presence. They wanted something clear and unequivocal. Perhaps they wanted him to prove his case in some kind of legal preceding or disputation. More likely, the addition of “from heaven” is a demand that Jesus given proof through a clear demonstration such as the opening of the heavens. Perhaps they wanted God to speak and authenticate Jesus’ ministry. It appears that they will not accept anything less than that.

In Matthew (16:4) and Luke (11:29) Jesus suggests that they will receive such a sign when Jesus is raised from the dead but Mark does not include this response. Instead Jesus simply denies their request. If kingdom miracles are not sufficient, then there will be no opening of heaven to persuade those whose hearts are already hardened against the kingdom of God.

Jesus did not say this in anger although he has been previously angered by their hard hearts (Mark 3:5). Rather, “he sighed deeply in his spirit.” This term (anastenazas) is related to the word Mark used when Jesus prayed over the deaf-mute in Mark 7:34 but here it is intensified. It is a sigh located deep within his soul. Jesus grieves their stubbornness and their insistence on a sign. He grieves their brokenness.It is as if Jesus weeps over these Pharisees who are so obstinate, just as he will weep over Jerusalem itself.

Jesus is not interested in arguing with the Pharisees. He gets in a boat to cross the lake again and this time ends up in Bethsaida (Mark 8:22)—a city on the edge of the Decapolis but also the native lakeside village of Peter and Andrew. Jesus, seemingly, leaves Galilee in a hurry as the disciples even forget to bring bread.

During the trip across the latke Jesus, in effect, debriefs his disciples. We only get a brief snipet. It is the caution to be wary of the “yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod.” As in Mark 3:6 where the Pharisees and Herodians conspire together to kill Jesus, the two are joined together in this warning. Whether it is religious leaders or political ones, their yeast has a way of leavening the whole lump. What is the yeast? What is the problem with the Pharisees and Herodians as pictured in the Gospel of Mark? Their power, greed and stubbornness subvert the virtues of the kingdom of God. Jesus warns his disciples to disengage from such power struggles and to steer clear of such agendas.

But the disciples are confused. They think Jesus is upset about the lack of bread. Their minds—perhaps even mutual blaming is involved—are on the lack of food. They have no provisions. They are worried about hunger while Jesus is warning them about power.

Their worry brings them to the same place as the Pharisees and Herodians. Their worries about bread lead them to the same stubbornness (hard hearts) that characterizes the religious and political leaders of Israel (Mark 3:5 with 8:17). Though they have been with Jesus for many months now, perhaps years at this point, their eyes are still blinded and their ears are still dull, just like many others (cf. Mark 4:12). It seems that the disciples have not made much progress. They are still in danger of the power and greed agendas that characterize their religious and political leaders. But the kingdom of God has a different agenda; a different yeast infects it.

Since they are so concerned about bread, Jesus reminds them that he fed  5,000 and 4,000 we a few loaves. What is Jesus’ point? The disciples know the events—they distinctly remember the abundance of provision that was left over from the feedings. Why is this an important point for Jesus?

The disciples apparently were consumed with worry about bread, about food. They feared hunger; perhaps they blamed each other. We might imagine that the argued over who forgot the bread. They were distracted from the kingdom agenda by their worries and arguments. So much so that they could not hear the warning of Jesus. In fact, that yeast had already infected them. They were consumed with earthly worry rather than the king’s business.

Jesus reminds them of the miracles as if to say, “If I fed 5,000 and then 4,000 with only a few loaves and fish, we need not worry about whether we have any bread or not in the boat. We have more important things to think about and do.”

Kingdom people don’t worry about bread, but they are alarmed by the “yeast of the Pharisee and the Herodians.” Though God feeds us we are always in danger of succumbing to the siren call of power and greed for more.

“Do you still not understand?” Jesus asked. I think he is still asking and we are still worrying about bread when the dangers of power and greed in religious and political leadership are the real problem.

Zechariah 3:1-10 — A Vision of a New Day in the Temple Courts

Zechariah’s fourth vision takes him into the heavenly council which mirrors the reality of the holy courts of the temple where priests officiate before the Lord (similar to Isaiah 6:1-3). The earthly temple is the meeting place of the heavenly council. The temple is one place where heaven and earth overlap.

Zechariah sees three persons: Joshua who is the high priest, the satan, and the angel of Yahweh. Others “standing before” the angel of Yahweh are present to carry out the wishes of Yahweh’s angel. The scene parallels Job 1 where the heavenly council (“sons of God”) weighs Job’s faith. Here the question is what to do with Israel’s sin, Joshua’s filthy clothes.

The angel of Yahweh and the satan oppose each other. In a way this is surprising. Yahweh had judged Judah for its sin (Zechariah 1:4-6). The satan, the accuser (which is the meaning of the Hebrew term), is correct. Joshua’s clothes are dirty; Judah has sinned. The temple was destroyed. The satan appears as an angelic prosecutor—he stands at Joshua’s right side to accuse as if in a legal proceeding (cf. Psalm 109:6). The accuser tells the truth about Judah’s sin.

But the angel of Yahweh opposes the accuser. Yes, Joshua is dirty; Yahweh passed judgment. But the satan is not telling the whole truth because Yahweh delights in Jerusalem. Yahweh loves Israel. The satan is rebuked….twice. The repetition is emphatic. Yahweh will not reject Israel; Jerusalem is chosen. When God elects, no one can dispute. It is God who justifies (cf. Romans 8:31-33).

This election is not temporary. God has chosen; the accuser backs down. Grace and mercy triumph over sin. Judah is a “stick plucked from the fire” (cf. Amos 4:11). God has redeemed Jerusalem once again and yet the question (as in Amos) remains—will they return to Yahweh (Zechariah 1:3)?

Though Joshua stands before the angel of Yahweh in dirty clothes, Yahweh chooses him and changes his clothes. The others who stand before God in the heavenly council are ordered to remove the filthy clothes and put “rich garments” on him. The new clothing is a white, costly, festive garment. This is both forgiveness and investment. It is cleansing and adornment. Joshua is reinvested with priesthood and now not only officiates before the Lord and celebrates the relationship between God and the people of Israel.

This priestly investment, however, is not simply about Joshua’s priesthood. It is also about Israel’s role in the world. Israel was called as a priestly nation who would mediate the presence of God to the nations. Israel is a priest for the world so that the nations might be blessed. The nations will become the people of God because Israel is their priest (Zechariah 2:11). Indeed, humans were invested with a priestly function in creation as we represent God in the creation and serve in the temple which God created. Humanity will again become priests serving before God in the temple that is the new heaven and new earth.

Zechariah, excited by what he was seeing, interrupts the scene with a further appeal to honor Joshua. Don’t forget the “turban,” Zechariah excitedly contributes. What is the “turban”? Many think it refers to the headgear of the high priest (Exodus 28:4). But this is not the same Hebrew word. Rather, this word, derived from a verb meaning “to wrap around,” describes the dress of wealthy or prominent people (Isaiah 3:23; 62:3; Job 29:14). It is a sign of favor. It is a further grace that God gives Israel. God has fully clothed Joshua; Yahweh honors his people as the “apple of his eye” (Zechariah 2:8).

Having invested and honored Joshua, the angel of Yahweh now addresses him along with the other priests (and by extension Israel itself). It is, in effect, the message of Zechariah: “return to me.” Joshua, and Israel, must “walk in [Yahweh’s] ways and keep [Yahweh’s] commandments.” Joshua is charged with governing the house of God but only as long as he reflects the glory of God’s presence in that temple. Joshua is called to image God and practice the holiness of God as God’s holy priest. What Adam failed to do, what Joshua’s forefathers failed to do, Joshua is now called to do. Alas, ultimately, he will fail as well. What is a nation to do? What is humanity to do?

The hope of Israel is not Joshua; he is only a sign, a token or, theologically, a type of things to come. Rather, the hope of Israel is Yahweh’s “servant, the Branch.” The oracle of hope following the vision report focuses on the future reality that the “Branch” will realize. The Hebrew “Joshua” appears as “Jesus” in New Testament Greek.

The oracle combines two Messianic traditions in earlier prophets. Isaiah’s obedient but suffering servant (Isaiah 42:1; 49:3; 52:13-53:12) is combined with Jeremiah’s royal, Davidic Branch (Jeremiah 23:5; 33:15; cf. Isaiah 4:2-5; 11:1). This priestly servant is also invested with royal authority. This coming one—anointed as both priest and king—will inaugurate a new day. That day will be both a day of atonement when Yahweh “will remove the sin of this land in one day” but also on that day everyone “will invite his neighbor to sit under his vine and fig tree.”

The oracle assures Joshua and his priests that the future is hopeful by drawing attention to the inscribed “stone” with “seven eyes” set in front of them. The meaning of this stone is the subject of varied interpretations. Some identify it with the engraved stones of the high priest’s clothing (Exodus 28:9-12) while others identify it as one of the stones for temple-building and the “eyes” are interpreted as divine omniscience. But a more recent suggestion is that the term for “eyes” is better translated “springs” and it refers to seven fountains of water that flow from the stone. Seven fountains would be sufficient as the number is a complete one.

The stone, then, is a Messianic type for cleansing and refreshing water that renews the land or causes the Branch to shoot up out of the ground. Water flows from Eden out to the world in Genesis 2:10 and the fountain of the new temple of Ezekiel 47:1 rises from below the Holy of Holies.

Whatever the case may be the stone represents renewal for Israel and ultimately for the earth. The inscription might very well anticipate the ending of Zechariah when everything upon the earth—even the bells of horses and cooking utensils—are inscribed “Holy to the Lord” just like the headgear of the high priest of Israel (Zechariah 14:20).

The future vision is the removal of sin from the land, from the earth. A day is coming when all the brokenness of the earth will be removed; there will be no more curse and the land will become new (cf. Revelation 21:1-4; 22:1-5). The fruit of the land will mean healing for the nations. Neighbor will invite neighbor—in a reconciled community—to share the joy of the redeemed land. Everyone will have their vine and fig tree which is but a metaphor for a secure, peaceful and fulfilling life (cf. Micah 4:4). That day the nations will live in peace with each other, seek guidance from Yahweh and be called the people of God along with Israel.

On that day nations will, according to Isaiah (2:1-4) and Micah (4:1-5), beat their swords into plowshares and “learn war no more.” May God speed the coming of that day and may the disciples of Jesus, the Branch, embrace that message and lifestyle even now.

“Heaven on Earth” — A Stone-Campbell Tradition

David Lipscomb believed that eventually the ”earth itself will become heaven” (Gospel Advocate, 1903, p. 328).

I recently noticed that someone will be speaking at the Freed-Hardeman lectures on the topic “heaven on earth.” I do not know what he will say, but I think it is at least helpful to know that many of our Stone-Campbell forebearers believed that God would ultimately dwell on earth with the redeemed. Right or wrong, this view is not dependent upon Jehovah’s Witnesses (which I hear a lot–indeed, it predates JWs) and is not some kind of weird, cultish ideology.

That perspective is often radically different from many hopeful expectations among members of Churches of Christ who believe that God is preparing a home in some kind of celestial (immaterial) reality beyond the Hubble telescope. I understand that view and its rationale as I once held it myself. Now I think some of our eminent forebearers had a better understanding of the biblical story than I once did.

Here are just three examples.  First, David Lipscomb in his Salvation from Sin (pp. 35-36):

God is holy. As a pure and holy being, he cannot tolerate guilt and sin. The two cannot permanently dwell together in the universe. When sin came into the world, God left this world as a dwelling place. He cannot dwell in a defiled and sin-polluted temple. He has since dwelt on this earth only in sanctified altars and temples separated from the world and consecrated to his service. He will again make this earth his dwelling place, but it will be only when sin has been purged out and it has been consecrated anew as the new heaven and new earth in which dwelleth righteousness. [Quotes Rev. 21:3-4.]

Second, James A. Harding (“What Are We Here For?” The Way 5 [3 December 1903], 1041):

…the earth is God’s nursery, his training grounds, made primarily for the occupancy of his children, for their education, development and training until they shall have reached their majority, until the end of the Messianic age has come; then it is to be purified a second time by a great washing, a mighty flood, but this time in a sea of fire. Then God will take up his abode himself with his great family upon this new, this renovated and purified earth.

 Third, Alexander Campbell (Christian System, p. 257):

The Bible begins with the generations of the heavens and the earth; but the Christian revelation ends with the regenerations or new creation of the heavens and the earth.  This [is] the ancient promise of God confirmed to us by the Christian Apostles. The present elements are to be changed by fire. The old or antediluvian earth was  purified by water; bu the present earth is reserved for fire, with all the works of man that are upon it. It shall be converted into a lake of liquid fire. But the dead in Christ will have been regenerated in body before the old earth is regenerated by fire. The bodies of the saints will be as homogeneous with the new earth and heavens as their present bodies are with the present heavens and earth. God re-creates, regenerates, but annihilates nothing; and, therefore, the present earth is not to be annihilated. The best description we can give of this regeneration is in the words of one who had a vision of it on the island of Patmos. He describes it as far as it is connected with the New Jerusalem, which is to stand upon the new earth, under the canopy of the new heaven:–[quoting Rev. 21:1-4].

This is not premillennialism; it is new creation theology. Rather, it affirms that God will renovate this present earth. Heaven does not yet fully dwell upon this earth although there are many tastes of it and we continually pray that the reign of heaven will break into the reality of this earth…and it does at times.  Our hope is that God’s reign will fully come to this earth. Our hope is that heaven will come to this earth. And when it does, it will be a fully renewed and renovated reality. This is no mere return to the a past Eden but a glorified regeneration of the earth itself where the redeemed will live in God’s good creation with God.  There will be no need for a temple since the whole earth will be “holy to the Lord.”

Lipscomb on Divine Sovereignty

The seeming popularity of Neo-Puritanism (John Piper and the “new Calvinists”) is concerning to me, but it is also–in some senses–welcome.  Of course, I am concerned about its apparent belligerence and its theology of unconditional election along with a rigid TULIP. However, I welcome a renewed emphasis on divine sovereignty in the context of an Open Theism that is uncertain about whether God can direct all things for good.

The Stone-Campbell heritage, in terms of divine sovereignty, has significant roots in Classic Arminianism (though it would not necessarily have such on other points in that tradition).  Whether we are talking about Alexander Campbell who denied “chance” in the world or Robert Richardson’s series on providence that resonates with Classic Arminianism, we have some valuable roots that express a high view of sovereignty without a Calvinistic (Reformed) eternal decrees determining events in the world. (I know that needs nuancing, but that is not my point here.)

A case in point is David Lipscomb himself. Hear this section from Salvation from Sin (pp. 46-47) in the light of current discussions between Calvinism, Classic Arminianism and Open Theism.

     The nation that God had used more than all other nations to punish and destroy the rebellious nations was in turn punished with a more fearful destruction than any others. [Commenting on Jeremiah 50:23-29, 38-40.] It is folly and deception for a people to think that because they are used to punish other nations and are successful in war, therefore they are better or more favored of God than the nations they conquer. The wicked are the sword of the Lord. As God deals with nations, he deals with families and individuals. God intends to accomplish certain ends and purposes. He created man for a great end. He will use him to accomplish that end. If man is obedient and faith, God will work in and through him, and, in accomplishing the work, will exalt, bless, and honor the man as his faithful servant and beloved child; but if he refuses a willing obedience, God will overrule his rebellion to work out God’s purpose or end, but, while doing this, will crush the rebel down to ruin.

      Man’s liberty is not very wide, yet broad enough to show his character. He must serve either God or the evil one; he can make his choice. He must accomplish the ends of God in the world. The choice is given him of doing it as an obedient servant and of being blessed and honored with God, or he may rebel, and, in rebellion, be destroyed while accomplishing the end. God must rule. The good of the universe and his own honor demand it. The soul that rebels against his authority must perish. God forgives iniquity and transgression and sin, and ‘will by no means clear the guilty.’

     God has the right to rule and direct all persons and all things for his own ends and purposes; all must serve him or be brought to ruin. He is able to direct and control them so as to bring about his desires and purposes. None need gainsay or oppose; none in heaven or on earth ‘can stay his hand or say unto him, ‘What doest thou?” (Dan. 4:35)

There are parts of this that the Reformed person will not like (but not much), but there are more parts that the Open Thesist would not like. It is a high view of sovereignty that places God at the center with the divine mission, purpose and goal as the agenda of the cosmos. There is no risk that God will not accomplish his purpose, according to Lipscomb. That is sovereignty in Classic Arminian style.

Mark 8:22-26 — We are all Deaf and Blind

The healing of the blind man in Bethsaida is the last miracle in the first half of Mark’s Gospel. Mark 8:27 begins the second half of the Gospel.

The second half of Mark’s narrative will focus on the passion and death of Jesus. Jesus appears as the suffering servant of Isaiah throughout the second half of the book and provides a model of self-sacrifice that is the cost of discipleship itself. The first half of Mark’s narrative has focused on the kingdom ministry of Jesus—proclaiming the coming of the kingdom of God through word and deed. While the second half of Mark depicts Jesus as the suffering servant of Isaiah, the first half of Mark affirms Jesus as the kingdom prophet who practices the good news of the kingdom of God.

This last miracle story in the first half is the second of a pairing that function as bookends in Mark’s narrative (see the parallels in the chart below). The first is the healing of the deaf mute in Mark 7:31-37. Between the healing of the deaf mute and the blind man is the feeding of the 4000. Both are fulfillments of Isaiah 35:5-6 where the Messianic Age envisions the healing of the deaf and blind. Deaf and blind people are only healed in the ministry of Jesus and in the power of the poured out Spirit of God in the Messianic Age. These healings do not appear in the Hebrew Bible. The healing of the deaf and blind are actualizations of the coming reign of God on the earth.

These healings, at one level, accentuate the deafness and blindness of the disciples exhibited in their understanding of Jesus’ healing of the 4000. At another level, reflect the general response to Jesus’ ministry. Everyone loves the healings but few, if any, truly hear and see the message of the kingdom.

Mark 7:31-37	Mark 8:22-26
Story is unique to Mark	Story is unique to Mark
Story precedes feeding of 4000	Story follows feeding of 4000
Jesus is in the Decapolis	Jesus is in Bethsaida of the Decapolis
Echoes healing of the deaf in Isaiah 35:5-6	Echoes healing of the blind in Isaiah 35:5-6
Others bring (pherousin) him to Jesus	Others bring (pherousin) him to Jesus
Others beg (parakalousin) Jesus to heal him	Others beg (parakalousin) Jesus to heal them
Jesus takes (apolabomenos) him away from the crowd	Jesus takes (epilabomenos) him away from the crowd
Jesus uses spit in the healing	Jesus uses spit in the healing
Two movements in healing – spitting and touching the ears	Two movements in healing – spitting and touching the eyes
Elaborate healing procedures	Elaborate healing procedures
Full healing in the end	Full healing in the end
Tells him to avoid publicity—don’t talk	Tells him to avoid publicity – avoid village

Who truly hears and sees the message? Isaiah 6:9-10 lingers in the background, a text that Jesus cited in Mark 4:12 and he alludes to it in light of the disciples’ inability to understand in Mark 8:18. The people see but they don’t perceive; they hear but they don’t understand. They are spiritually deaf and blind. In the physical healings Jesus enacts a parable that embodies his mission—to give eyes to the blind and ears to the deaf that they might turn and be reconciled with God in his kingdom.

In particular, the disciples are deaf and blind even though they themselves have been engaged in kingdom ministry for some time now. They do not yet see or hear clearly. In the next story—the turning point of Mark’s narrative—they will confess Jesus as the Christ (Messiah) but they do not understand what that means. They are like the blind man who needs two stages of healing. They come to “see” in part, but they do not yet fully see. They do not fully see until they see him resurrected and remember Jesus’ words about his suffering and coming glory. Their sight is fuzzy (like the blind man’s) at first but later they see more clearly (like the blind man).

We are all deaf and blind. We only see and hear through the healing and patience of God’s work within and among us. Our journey with Jesus is similar to that of the disciples. Only slowly do we come to “see” and “hear” the true meaning and cost of discipleship. We are the disciples in this story—we see but we don’t perceive, we hear but we don’t understand. And yet through our journey with Jesus our capacity for clear sight and sharp hearing grows.

Mark 8:27-9:1 — Confession, Cross and Crown

This text is the hinge on which Mark’s Gospel swings. Previous to this text Mark narrates the kingdom ministry of Jesus as Jesus heralds its coming and enacts its reality through healing, compassion and feedings. Subsequent to this text Mark narrates the passion of Jesus and the events that lead up to his death. In the first half of Mark Jesus is the prophetic embodiment of the kingdom of God among the people. In the second half of Mark Jesus is the suffering servant who gives his life as a ransom for the people. In this swing text Mark introduces a new theme—Jesus begins to talk about his death–and a new mission–Jesus  begins his journey to the cross.

 In the first part (8:27-30), the disciples confess that Jesus is the Messiah (Christ). The Gospel, linked to the first verse of the narrative itself (1:1), identifies Jesus as the hope of Israel, the Messiah. Stumbling their way to faith, the disciples now embrace his Messianic standing. In the second part (8:31-33), Jesus predicts his suffering, death and resurrection. But here we see that though the disciples have embraced his Messianic standing, they have a different Messianic vision than Jesus. Jesus sees it as a way of suffering, they thought it was triumphant. They see, but not clearly as yet. In the third part  (8:34-9:1), Jesus announces that discipleship is costly. It is no simple triumphalism but includes loss though it will reap great gain. Discipleship involves a cross before there is a crown.

Caesarea Philippi, located about 25 miles north of the Sea of Galilee at the base of Mt. Hermon, was a Gentile region. The city was built near the grotto of the pagan god Pan and Herod the Great built a temple to Augustus there. It was a thoroughly pagan region and a deeply religious place. The Grotto of Pan (pictured here) had been a place for sacrifices to the god Pan since the 200s BCE. It is here—the only time Mark names this place—that Jesus asks his disciples about his identity.

The ministry of Jesus had generated widespread speculation about his identity. Herod Antipas had earlier raised the question and was given similar answers as Jesus is here (6:14-16). A resurrected John the Baptist? Elijah who precedes the Messiah? Or, simply another prophet in a long line of prophets? There was no consensus but, it seems, it was believed that God was doing something through Jesus.

But Jesus is most interested in what his disciples think. They had, no doubt, pondered this question many times. “Who is this?” they asked, when he calmed the sea (4:41). Now Peter confesses, “You are the Messiah.” It is a bold statement; it is a political statement. It is about the reign of God in the world. God’s appointed king was on the earth. This was a dangerous claim in the context of imperial Roman occupation. Such language was dangerous and many claimants to the title had already been executed in the past couple of generations. His confession is courageous and at the same time Jesus silences him. They should not speak of this because the message is too provocative and the time for Jesus’ public witness as Messiah had not yet come. The messianic secret must still be kept.

Immediately, however, we see a contrast between Jesus’s understanding of his messianic mission and Peter’s. Peter sees glory without suffering; perhaps he sees a great military overthrow of Roman oppression and the imminent enthronement of Jesus as king in Jerusalem. If Jesus can command the demons, death and disorder (calming the seas), he can certainly defeat the Romans. Peter’s understanding, however, is Satanic. It is the way of violence rather than self-sacrificing love. The political order—the way of fallen humanity—pursues violent means for peace and justice but God will secure justice and peace through the suffering of the Son of Man.

 Jesus understands that there can be no glory without suffering. The Son of Man, the eschatological figure who ultimately triumphs over the enemies of God, must first suffer death before he experiences resurrection glory. The reign of God comes through suffering rather than military victory. The cross comes before the crown.

 Up to this point it appears that Jesus and his disciples were talking privately. This was no public announcement of his death or his Messianic role. He calls the crowd closer. This is probably a group that followed him from Galilee to Caesarea Philippi as he addresses the nature of discipleship. The crowd follows him but do they realize what following him really means?

But to follow Jesus—to become a disciple—is to deny yourself and bear a cross. Too often we trivialize this language and tend to think of the “cross” as a symbol of love and reconciliation. But in the language of Roman occupied Palestine it was a symbol of horror, pain and shame. By using the word “cross” Jesus indicates the manner of his own death. It is way false messiahs had previously died at the hands of the Romans. Romans lined the streets with crucified rebels on occasion.

Up to this point following Jesus meant free food, good health (healings), safety and freedom from demonic oppression. But Jesus has now turned the tables. Following Jesus now means other-centeredness and a willingness to suffer for the sake of the kingdom of God. They have followed Jesus to “save” their lives (food, health and freedom) but now Jesus calls them to “lose” their lives. Following Jesus means taking up a cross–putting that crossbeam on your back–and dying with Jesus to death. To take up the cross means to follow Jesus to a cross; it means to die with Jesus.

To “lose” life is to suffer for the sake of others in the kingdom of God. And yet that is exactly where life is “saved” as well. What is gained is not the “whole world”—serving ourselves to gain status, power and wealth, but what is gained is life in glory alongside the Son of Man in the presence of the Father and his angels. Those who pursue the “whole world” may gain something now but they will lose life with the Son of Man in glory who instead of affirming them will reject them.

Jesus wonders about the generation he addresses. When he goes to the cross, will they be ashamed of him? Will the cross deter his followers or will they follow him to the cross? Disciples must count the cost. Following Jesus is costly; it leads to a cross upon which not only our selves are crucified (denied) but it engenders the hostility of those who oppose the reign of God in the world.

Jesus assures the crowd that his words are true. His proof is that some of them will actually see the kingdom of God come with power. He may be referring to his resurrection or, as perhaps in Luke 9:27, Pentecost. But the more immediate context seems to be the next event in Mark’s narrative—the transfiguration of Jesus which was an event that evidenced the eschatological power of the kingdom of God (cf. 2 Peter 1:16-18). The transfiguration of Jesus revealed the glory of the Son of Man. The cross will not be the final stop in the Messianic journey of Jesus. On the contrary, the cross leads to glory, just as it does for his disciples.

What Was the Mission of Christ? David Lipscomb Answers

I am often amazed at how some contemporary writers–missional and emergent–seem to believe that they have embraced a new vision for the mission of God. It also amazes me that some more traditional writers–some Evangelicals and some New Calvinists–regard the missional emphasis as a new understanding of the gospel.  David Lipscomb (1831-1917) reminds us that such emphases are not new.

Below is an extended section from Lipscomb’s chapter “The Ruin and Redemption of the World” in his 1913 Salvation from Sin (pp. 114-116) which J. W. Shepherd edited from previous writings. As you read, note the emphasis on the physical (material) as well as the spiritual and moral. Particularly important is his focus on the mission of Christ. The mission of Christ is not fundamentally to save the world from suffering in this life or the next. In other words, the mission of Christ is not primarily to save us from pain or hell. That is quite an astounding statement given contemporary versions of the Evangelical and New Calvinist theologies. Lipscomb’s statement is much more in line with Scott McKnight’s King Jesus than John Piper’s Neo-Puritanic, crucicentristic substitutionary atonement theology.

Notice how theocentric his missional vision is. Whatever benefits humanity is secondary to the goal of God’s intent to restore the reign of  God upon the earth.

I will let him speak for himself at this point.  Enjoy, ponder and take up the mission of Christ.

     The object of God’s dealing with man, and especially the mission of Christ to earth, was to rescue the world from the rule and dominion of the evil one, from the ruin into which it had fallen through sin, and to rehabilitate it with the dignity and the glory it had when it came from the hand of God: to restore man–spiritually, mentally, and physically–to the likeness of his Maker, and to reinstate him as a prince and a ruler in this rescued and restored kingdom of God; to displace the barrenness and desolation of the earth with the verdue and beauty of Eden and ‘make the desert blossom as the rose;’ to root out every plant not planted by the Father, and to make this earth again a garden of God’s own planting, every plant planted by a Father’s hand and nurtured by a Father’s love. The mission of Christ is to root up all the briers, thistles, and thorns that grow in the material, moral, and spiritual world, and so restore this home of man to its primitive and pristine relations to God, its Maker and rightful Ruler.  With God as its Ruler, in it God’s Spirit must dwell and God’s blessing and protection abound.

     The leading aim and end of Christ’s mission on this earth was not to make man religious. He was religious before Jesus came. Where Christ’s name is not known, man is still religious. The specific object of Christ was not to make man moral or honest; this was a secondary and subsidiary concomitant and a means to the great end. His leading and specific object was not to save man from suffering in this world or in that which is to come. The world, the religious world, errs here; and this error-the failure to appreciate the leading idea of Christ’s mission–leads to grevious mistakes. Under this idea, much labor is done to induce men to be willing to go to heaven in order to be saved from sufferings, and willingness on their part is taken as an indication that they are saved and will be forever happy. The one great purpose of Christ’s mission to earth and the end of the establishment of his kingdom on earth, and of all the provisions he has made and the forces he has put in operation to affect man’s course of life, were and are to rescue this world from the rule and dominion of the evil one, to deliver it from the ruin into which it had fallen through man’s sin, and to bring it back to its original and normal relations with God and the universe, that the will of God shall be done on earth as it is heaven. The will of God, as manifested in his laws, guides and harmonizes the universe and holds it in subject to and in union with the throne of God. Every intelligence that conforms to the will of God is held in harmony with him and with the universe by the workings of his laws, and is guided forward as a factor and helper with god in the accomplishment of the divine purpose. In becoming a helper and coworker with God, he becomes a joint heir of the life, the home, the glory, and the honor of God himself; an heir of the inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, that fades not away, reserved in the heavens for those who are kept by the power of God, through faith, unto the salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. (See I Pet. 1:4,5.)

  

Favorite Quotes: James A. Harding

James A. Harding (1848-1922), Kentucky evangelist and co-founder of the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University), is a fascinating character. Passionate, opinionated, and faith-filled, he offers a vibrant vision for the mission of the church for both his time and ours. Below are two of my favorite (among many) quotes.

Both illustrate the importance of discipleship for Harding and his skepticism of crusading revivalism. He made these observations after spending twelve years as an itinerant evangelist from Michigan to Florida and Canada to Texas. They say something about his understanding of soteriology, the church and  discipleship.  I have highlighted some key phrases.

I have observed that those speakers as a rule secure the greatest number of accessions who dwell most upon escaping hell and getting into heaven, and least upon the importance of leading lives of absolute consecration to the Lord; in other words their converts are much more anxious to be saved than they are to follow Christ. (James A. Harding, Gospel Advocate 27 [14 September 1887], 588).

Our greatest trouble now is, it seems to me, a vast unconverted membership. A very large percent of the church members among us seem to have very poor conceptions of what a Christian ought to be. They are brought into the church during these high-pressure protracted meetings, and they prove to be a curse instead of a blessing. They neglect prayer, the reading of the Bible, and the Lord’s day meetings, and, of course, they fail to do good day by day as they should. Twelve years of continuous travel among the churches have forced me to the sad conclusion that a very small number of the nominal Christians are worthy of the name. (James A. Harding, Gospel Advocate 27 [9 Feb 1887], 88.)

From Lipscomb to Wallace on “New Creation” Theology

The Bible Banner, edited by Foy E. Wallace, Jr. with a masthead reading “Devoted to the Defense of the Church Against All Errors and Innovations,” had a profound impact on Churches of Christ in the 1930s-1940s. Whether it was for good or ill depends on whether one thinks the theological movements and consensus achieved in that era, at least in part through the influence of the Bible Banner, were healthy or harmful. But it seems apparent to me that Wallace’s periodical was a significant player in building a consensus within Churches of Christ on several fonts. Just War advocacy would be one as well as a profoundly positive assessment of the role of human governments.

My interest in this post is new creation theology, that is, the belief that God will renew this earth, unite heaven and earth, and dwell with his people upon that renewed earth for eternity. This was a rather commonly held view among 19th century Stone-Campbell folk though, of course, not the only perspective. It was certainly the understanding of the theological trajectory connected with the Nashville Bible School, particularly in the thinking of David Lipscomb and James A. Haring.

By the end of WWII, however, renewed earth theology had all but disappeared. What happened? One might argue that the more biblical view won out as is just and expected in a movement that wants to follow the Bible alone. Or, one might recognize that hostility toward a cultural and theological movement among Fundamentalists generated a fear that the church had lost its unique role in the redemptive plan of God and this fear enabled an interpretation of Hebrew prophecy that understood renewed earth hopes in the prophets as realized within the spiritual reality of the church in the present age.  I will not argue this in great detail here, but I will offer a few nuggets from the Bible Banner that seem to support that historical reading, or at least suggest that the reason renewed earth theology is rejected is because it was associated with “literal” or “material” Fundamentalist interpretations of Hebrew prophecy.

T. B. Wilkinson in his “Heaven, the Kingdom and Premillenialism” (BB [November 1943] 11-12) links the interpretation of heaven with not only Russellism (Charles T. Russell) but also with premillennialism as a whole. “By premillennialism,” he writes, “I mean everything in that line from Russellism to Bollism, including Jehovah’s Witnesses, and other intermediate grades.” He rejects any kind material reality associated with heaven and regards any such “literal” interpretation of Scripture as unsuited for immortal saints. Rather, the earth will be literally destroyed by fire.

The Bible Banner‘s assault on premillennialism included an assault on any kind of understanding of “heaven on earth” or a renewed earth eschatology. It is part of Wallace’s critique of R. H. Boll as, for example, when Wallaces advocates a spiritualized and ecclesial interpretation of Romans 8:18-23. The central problem with premillennialism is its new creation theology since it expects a time when the earth will be renewed, when the curse will be lifted, when the kingdom of God will fill the earth, and every one will sit under their own vine and fig tree. Hebrew prophecies related to such expectations as in Isaiah 55:12-13 are fulfilled in the church.

Historic and Dispensational Premillennialism, however, usually expect this during the millennium after which comes an enternal home. New Creation theology argues that the renewed creation is the eternal home where the saints with transfigured, resurrected bodies will live upon a transfigured, renewed earth which will have become the habitation of God for eternity.

But this is precisely the point that many find objectionable on two fundamental counts. First, it means that there are still Hebrew prophecies that have not yet been fulfilled. Amillennialists who deny new creation theology (and there are amillennialists who do not–particularly in the Reformed tradition) interpret all the Hebrew “restoration” texts as either having been fulfilled in the return from Babylonian exile or in the church age. Anything else becomes a “system of rank materialism,” and this includes spiritualizing the resurrection body for some celestial state and the loss of the Abrahamic land promise to believers in Christ.

Second, according to critics, it demeans the dignity of the church to anticipate a future time when the reality of God’s rule will fill the earth in more than a “spiritual” way. The church is the bride of Christ and nothing should detract from her beauty or detract from her role in the present age. A future, material, renewed earth kingdom does just that, according to some.

As a result, whenever I speak on new creation or renewed earth theology, I always hear the objection that I am advocating premillennialism and underminding the role God has graciously given to the church.

The church’s fear and hostility toward premillennialism in the early 20th century culiminating in its practical expulsion from Churches of Christ in the 1940s limited our visions of heaven to a celestial, spiritualized reality. Anything else is tantamount to affirming premillennialism. The denial of a renewed earth was an important aspect of opposing premillennialism. In the imagination of Churches of Christ, a renewed creation theology was functionally equivalent to premillennialism and thus it was generally excised from the body.

By focusing on the Bible Banner I do not mean to imply that this was the only journal pushing these views. Both the Firm Foundation and the Gospel Advocate, by the 1930s-1940s, had also adopted these perspectives with varying degrees of hostility and tolerance toward premillennialism. Nevertheless, the Bible Banner stoked the fires it thought were important to preserve the church from “errors and innovations.”  New creation theology was one of those “errors” that, in their minds, constituted a divisive heresy.

Bibliography on Renewed Earth Eschatology

Several friends, in different places and ways, have asked me for a list of resources on renewed earth eschatology.  Below are some books that I think are quite helpful in developing and thinking through such an eschatology in biblical-theological terms. There are, of course, many more resources than these.  Many books on systematic theology (recently Horton, for example), commentaries (I mention a few below), and specialized studies on ecology, creation and eschatology. These are only a few.

N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (HarperOne, 2008)

Albert M. Wolters, Creation Regained (Eerdmans, 1985)

Hans Schwarz, Eschatology (Eerdmans, 2000)

Anthony A. Hoekema, The Bible and the Future (Eerdmans, 1994)

Randy Alcorn, Heaven (Tyndale House, 2004)

Richard Bauckham, The Bible and Ecology (Baylor, 2010)

Richard Bauckham and Trevor Hart, Hope Against Hope (Eerdmans, 1999)

Herman Bavinck, The Last Things: Hope for this World and the Next (Baker, 1996)

David Lawrence, Heave: Its Not the End of the World  (Scripture Union, 1995)

G. C. Berkouwer, The Return of Christ (Eerdmans, 1972)

David Wilkinson, Christian Eschatology and the Physical Universe (T & T Clark International, 2010)

John Polkinghorne, The God of Hope and the End of the World (Yale, 2002).

Donald Bloesch, The Last Things (InterVarsity, 2004)

Christopher Wright, The Mission of God (InterVarsity, 2006)

Ben Witherington, Jesus, Paul and the End of the World (InterVarsity, 1992)

William Dumbrell, The Search for Order: Biblical Eschatology in Focus (Baker, 1994)

Samuele Bacchiocchi, Immortality or Resurrection? (Biblical Perspectives, 1997)

Jurgen Moltmann, God in Creation (Harper & Row, 1985)

Jurgen Moltmann, Trinity and the Kingdom (Harper & Row, 1981)

Colin Gunton, Christ and Creation (Eerdmans, 1992)

John Reumann, Creation and New Creation (Augsburg, 1973)

Specialized Resources on Specific Texts

On 2 Peter 3, read Bauckham, Grudem and Green as well as the following journal articles Douglas Moo, JETS (2006) 449-88 and Heide, JETS (1997) 37-56, and Wolters, WTJ (1987), 405-13.

On Romans 8, read the commentaries by Fitzmyer, Moo, Dunn, Murray, Godet, Meyer, Morris and Barth, for example.  See Harry Alan Hane, The Corruption and Redemption of Creation: Nature in Romans 8:19-22 and Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (T. & T. Clark, 2006).

On Revelation 21, an important exegetical work is David Mathewson, A New Heaven and A New Earth: The Meaning and Function of the Old Testament in Revelation 21:1-22:5 (Sheffield  Academic Press, 2003).

On 1 Corinthians 15, there are several very good studies of “spiritual body” which make the case for a material body animated by the Holy Spirit so that we live in the full life of the Spirit:  Robert Gundry, Soma in Biblical Theology (Cambridge University, 2005) and Mike Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus (InterVarsity Press, 2010).

On the history of the interpretation of heaven, see Colleen McDannell and Bernhard Lang McDonell, Heaven: A History (Yale,d 2001).

Worship in Spirit and in Truth (John 4:24)

“God is Spirit, and those who worship God must worship in Spirit and Truth” (John 4:24).

You might not immediately notice but one of the differences between my translation and the traditional one is that I capitalize “Spirit” and “Truth.” I think this is important.

The traditional use of this text is to locate the prepositional phrase in the subjectivity of the worshipper (that is, worship with the right spirit or attitude) and in the objectivity of God’s revealed word (that is, Scripture). This interpretation has a long history and has been particularly stressed in many parts of the Reformed tradition. Churches of Christ have utilized the text in a way consistent with their Reformed (Presbyterian and Scottish dissenter) heritage.

But I think this misses the point of the text in at least two ways.

First, pneuma (spirit), though it appears 24 times in the Gospel of John, never refers to  human attitudes or motivations. Though it is used to describe Jesus’ own personal identity three times (11:33; 13:21; 19:20), seventeen times the term refers without question to the Holy Spirit (1:32,33; 3:5,6,8,34; 7:39; 14:17,26; 15:26; 16:13; 20:22). Of the other four uses of pneuma, three are found in John 4:23-24 and the last one in John 6:63. The last text most likely refers to the Holy Spirit as well since Jesus describes his words as Spirit (but this is disputed).

John’s Gospel has developed a theology of pneuma up to John 4.  Jesus is invested with the Spirit and born-again believers are born of the Spirit (John 1:33,34; 3:5, 34).  The Spirit is something believers and Jesus have in common. When believers worship the Father, they worship “in the Spirit.” God is pneuma. So, the Son, believers and the Father share pneuma. This evidences the communal unity of the Father, Son and believers. We are one through or in the Spirit. As such, the worshipping community of believers–those who have been born of the Spirit–worship the Father “in the Spirit.”

This reading has the further benefit of seeing the “living water” which Jesus offers the Samaritan women (4:10-15) as the well-springs of the Spirit who is given to believers (John 7:37-39). Believers enjoy a living water that arises out of the Spirit who dwells within us and “in” this thirst-quenching water, that is the Spirit, we worship the Father. It is the living water that wells up inside of us to give praise and glory to God. We worship out of the or in the resources of the Holy Spirit. “In the Spirit” is the Spiritual dynamic of worship itself–the Holy Spirit who gives life to worship by the living, personal presence of God by the Spirit.

Second, aletheia (truth), though it appears 55 times in the Gospel of John, never refers to Scripture. Instead, the dominant meaning of truth in John is that of authentic reality The context of John 4 is not truth (biblical) versus falsehood (wrong), but is truth (reality) versus type (shadow). Moses employed types, but Jesus brings truth (John 1:17). The snake was a type of the truth (reality) of Jesus (John 3:14). Israel experienced manna through Moses in the wilderness, but Jesus is the true bread (John 6:32). Examples could be multiplied.

Jesus is the truth; he is the reality. Everything becomes real–eschatologically real–in Jesus. The reality of the future–who Jesus is and what Jesus accomplishes–is the truth.

Or, to put it another way…God tabernacles among us in the flesh. The body of Jesus is the sanctuary of God (John 2:19-21). The question in John 4 is in which temple should people worship. Should we worship in (en, literally “in” and not “on”) the mountain or in Jerusalem. Jesus’s response is that we worship in a new temple–we worship in the sanctuary of God’s presence. Jesus is the truth who is the new temple. True worshippers will worship in the Holy Spirit and in the true temple. We no longer worship in a type or shadow but in the eschatological reality of Jesus who is the Truth of God.

Believers worship in a new temple. The contrast between “in” the  mountain/Jerusalem and “in Spirit and Truth” is a contrast between temples. It does not contrast the physical, external or ritual versus the immaterial, internal or spiritual. Rather, it contrasts the type and fulfillment, the shadow and ultimate reality, the old and new temple. The place of worship is no longer spatially or geographically located. It is located in “Spirit and Truth.”

To worship the Father in Spirit and Truth, then, is to praise the Father in his new temple out of the resources of the Spirit welling up in our hearts. We worship in Spirit as we experience the eschatological reality of God by the gift of his Spirit who indwells us. We worship in Truth as we experience the eschatological reality of God which Jesus revealed and embodied in his own person–the Son has brought the Truth into the world in his own person.

We worship the Father in the Spirit (eschatologically by that empowering presence) and in the Son (the true eschatological temple of God).

Zechariah 4:1-14 — Two Olive Trees and the Oil of God

Awakened from lethargy or deep reflection by the angel who had previously spoken to him (Zechariah 2:3) as if he had been woken from a sleep, the angel directs Zechariah’s attention to a new vision. “What do you see?” asked the angel.

This is Zechariah’s fifth vision. Paired with the fourth vision, these two are the central visions of the series of eight. Both are functionally visions within the temple courts or sanctuary. The visions are a sure word from God that God will accomplish his purposes for Israel and the temple.

Also, the vision is filled with dramatic pauses as Zechariah participates in the vision itself. He questions the angel whose initial responses might be characterized as stalling or, better, drawing out the scene for dramatic effect. “Don’t you know?” the angel asks on two different occasions. These pauses have the literary effect of emphasizing the significance of what is seen.

What did Zechariah see? Though sometimes difficult to discern from some translations, what Zechariah sees is a cylindrical shaft on top of which sat a large bowl.  Seven small bowls are placed on the rim of the large bowl. The rims of the small bowls are pinched together in seven places in order to provide seven wicks on each bowl (as in the picture below, an Israelite lampstand from around 800 BCE). A total of 49 wicks (7 bowls x 7 wicks) would give off an impressive light. The multiple sevens represent a kind of divine perfection. This, then, is not a seven-branched menorah as is often pictured. The Solomonic temple lampstands, unlike the tabernacle (Exodus 25:31-40), were not seven-branched.

Interestingly, such bowls have been found at archeological sites and always at religious sites (cf. R. North, Biblica 51 [1978] 183-205). What is amazing about this lampstand is that it is golden. Both the religious form and the expensive metal indicate the important significance of the lampstand. In light of the temple-building pursued in Zechariah’s visions, it seems likely that this lampstand is intended to represent the one that belongs in the Holy Place of the temple. While Solomon had ten in his temple (1 Kings 7:49), post-exilic Israel only used one (1 Maccabees 1:21).

This lampstand, however,  is not pictured in the temple itself but as standing between two olive trees. Olive trees, of course, produced oil for multiple purposes. These two olive trees produce two streams of golden oil that supply the golden lampstand. Supplied directly from the trees, the oil is practically unlimited and abundant. The lampstand is supplied from the life of the trees themselves.

It is a curious picture and Zechariah wants an explanation. The give-and-take with the angel is somewhat playful–Zechariah, prophet of God, you don’t know what this represents? The angel, at first, only explains the lampstand (6-10). Zechariah will have to press him–twice!–for an explanation of the trees (11-14). The text exhibits dramatic pauses through the questions and a dramatic climax by the need to press again (twice!) for explanation of the trees. The picture, curious though it is, is a dramatic proclamation of God’s work in Israel.

The lampstand announces that the temple will be rebuilt by the power of God’s Spirit. Nothing will prevent this–neither mountains nor despisers. God, who sees the whole earth with his “seven eyes” (cf. 2 Chronicles 16:9), will ensure the completion of the temple.

Two factors hindered the building of the temple–mountains and despisers.  The mountains may be literal as ground is leveled for the building of the temple but it is more like that the mountains represent the nations who scoff at this backwater province’s audacity and seeming self-importance. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the hostile nations surround Judah (cf. Ezra 3:3; 4:4-5) . The nations are not impressed. Despisers are probably those within Israel (perhaps even inclusive of the nations as well) who think this temple is a “small” thing (Ezra 3:12; Haggai 2:3). It is unimpressive and has little value. It does not compare with the glory of the Solomonic temple.

But the temple will be rebuilt, and Zerubbabel will measure out is dimensions and lay its final stone. Israel will rejoice and Zechariah will have the assurance that he was truly sent by God to herald the rebuilding of the temple. Neither the nations nor the despisers can stop it.

Yet, how will this happen? By what power or strength will Israel accomplish this task of rebuilding? Yahweh speaks the answer directly to Zechariah: “Not by might or by power, but by my Spirit.” The temple is rebuilt not by human military might or by human ingenuity/strength; it is built by the Spirit of God.

The oil that keeps the lamps burning is the Spirit of God. God is the one who will accomplish this rebuilding, empower Israel for service, and protect them from the nations and the despisers. The oil, the Spirit of God, renews Israel and there is an unlimited supply.

Zechariah is not satisfied; he wants a full explanation. What are these olive trees doing in the scene? The angel identifies them as “the two who are anointed to serve the Lord of all the earth” (4:14). This is the climax of the vision itself.

Who are these anointed? There are at least two viable interpretations. One suggests that the two are Zechariah and Haggai who, by the Spirit of prophecy, continually encourage and empower the rebuilding of the temple. The point is that the lamp burns by the light of the prophetic word. While this vision has certainly emphasized the prophetic role of Zechariah (he is sent by God), there is no indication that Haggai is in view within the text of Zechariah.

Probably, the better understanding is to identify the trees with Joshua the high priest and Zerubbabel the Davidic governor. This is suggested by the fact that visions four (3:1-10) and five (4:1-14) are the center of the chiasm and thus constitute a pair. Paired together, priest and king stand as God’s surety for the temple. These two stand in the heavenly court of God and represent the renewal of Israel’s institutions.

The vision assures Israel that the temple will be rebuilt and God will do it by his Spirit. It also signals the vital role that priest and king will play in the inauguration of restored Israel. And yet the combination of priest and king reminds us of the suffering servant, the Davidic branch who is yet to come (Zechariah 3:8). Joshua and Zerubbabel, priest and king, point beyond themselves to one who will unite the offices as priest-king, the Messiah, because neither fully represents the full reality that God ultimately intends to actualize upon his earth. The Messiah is yet to come.

The vision identifies what empowers the renewal of Israel. When God acts by his Spirit, his purposes will be accomplished. No human can claim any credit and no nation can obstruct. God will anoint, empower and accomplish restoration and redemption. This is the confidence of the children of Abraham, including we who are heirs of the promise of Abraham through faith.

We, as believers, live not by our own power or might, but by the Spirit of God.

David Lipscomb on “Pray in Faith”

How we pray, how often we pray and why we pray reveals much about our spiritual walk with God.

David Lipscomb printed a statement by a friend who encountered people among the Stone-Campbell Movement who did not seem to pray fervently.  The inquirer wrote, “I heard one of your leading ministers say a short time ago that he did not pray believing that his prayers would be answered, but that he prayed because he believed it was his duty to pray. He said it always makes a man better to do his duty….”

Lipscomb responded, in part, by writing (Salvation from Sin, pp. 321-22):

A man must not only believe that God hears and answers prayer, but he must pray continually and in faith, to be a Christian. No mortal can live a Christian life without constant, earnest, faithful prayer. We cannot live the Christian life without the help God gives in answer to prayer. The trouble is that an element of rationalistic infidelity has entered all the churches that seeks to eliminate the divine in religion, to conform everything to the conceptions of human reason, and to explain everything by natural laws, ignoring the God of nature and the Author of all laws. It is in all the churches.

A man cannot live the Christian life one day without the help and strength that comes through humble and earnest prayer to God through Christ Jesus our Lord. No man can believe on Jesus and realize his lost and helpless condition–his dependence upon God–without at every step he takes praying for mercy and for help.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me a sinner.

Mark 9:2-13 — The Son of Man Glorified

The Son of Man, Jesus announced (Mark 8:31), must suffer, die on a cross and then be raised from the dead. The Son of Man must lose his life before it can be saved. The path of suffering (losing his life) leads to glory (saving his life). The Son of Man will appear in the Father’s glory when he comes again. Yet, Jesus assured the crowd that some of them would see that glory—the arrival of the kingdom of God in glorious power—before they died (Mark 9:1). It is a rather enigmatic saying, but one that makes sense in the light of the next event in Jesus’ ministry.

Mark’s narrative has focused on the kingdom message and actions of Jesus. His ministry has embodied the reality of the kingdom. But it is a kingdom reality located in the brokenness of this old age, this broken creation. His ministry has reversed the curse but it has not, as yet, transformed the old age into the new age, the old reality in the new one, that is, the old creation into a new creation. The curse is lifting but people are stilly dying and even the Son of Man must suffer and die.

What will the disciples “see” when they “see the kingdom of God come with power”? They saw, in this immediate context, the transfiguration of Jesus into glory. They will see, in a more remote context, the resurrection (transfiguration) of Jesus from the dead. That is the glory of the kingdom of God. It is the glory of the Father that belongs to the second coming of Jesus–an eschatological glory. It is a glory as yet unknown in the Gospel of Mark but revealed on this mountain which anticipates the resurrection. The disciples are warned to keep this secret until Jesus was raised from the dead, that is, until the glory was fully actualized through resurrection though the reign of God would not fully come until the second coming of Christ.

It is a “high mountain” experience, perhaps on Mt. Hermon. Readers of Israel’s story should make immediate connections (e.g., “six days” echoes Exodus 24:16). Peter did. Seeing what he saw, he wanted to build three structures (booths) which are appropriate for festive dwelling in the presence of God (as in the Feast of Tabernacles). He seems to have associated this with Mt. Sinai and the “meeting” between God and Israel there. Both Moses and Elijah encountered God at Sinai. In the same way, God meets with Jesus and his disciples here. It is a time to celebrate and enjoy the divine presence.

Peter, though speaking out of fear and uncertainty, was right and he was wrong. He was correct to see something here that was analogous to Sinai. He was wrong to think that the reality was, at this point, permanent. He seems to have assumed this glory was a new permanent presence, perhaps even the inauguration of the kingdom in permanent form. But he misunderstood. This was but a temporary manifestation of eschatological glory.

Nevertheless, it was for their benefit. Peter, James and John—again the intimate circles of Jesus’ friends—were brought to the mountain so that they might experience this glory. Jesus was transfigured “before them” and Elijah and Moses appeared “before them” (the disciples). The experience intended to assure them that though Jesus would suffer and die, he would nevertheless experience glory as well. It was an assurance, no doubt, that Jesus also needed though Mark does not emphasize this.

On this high mountain, this new Sinai, Jesus is transfigured or transformed. His form changed. He appeared in the glory of dazzling white clothes—a whiteness that exceeded what was possible for any human effort. This was a divine act. It was heavenly glory, divine glory. It was the glory of the new age—the glory of the heavenly Father in which the Son of Man would ultimately come again.

But the Son of Man is glorified in this moment rather than at his second advent. This momentary glory here–much like the momentary glory Moses experience on Sinai and at the ”Tent of Meeting–anticipates the fullness of that second advent glory. To see this glory is to see the final coming of the kingdom of God proleptically. It is to see it as if it has already happened. It appears now even though it belongs to the future. The glory of the parousia (second coming) of Jesus is revealed on this “high mountain” in Palestine. It is the glory which Jesus experiences in his resurrection which is also a glorious transfiguration or transformation. This mountain-top transfiguration is a promise of the resurrection and an assurance of the second coming of the Son of Man. It is a divine witness that though the Son of Man may suffer and die, he will surely rise again as the firstborn of a new creation, which includes a glorified and transfigured new heaven and new earth.

In this moment, the Father speaks. A cloud, like that which led Israel in the wilderness and rested on Sinai, appears and a voice speaks from the cloud. The Father comes and speaks: “This is my Son, my beloved. Listen to him.” Again, this is directed to the disciples.

Some think the imperative “listen” may provide a clue for why Moses and Elijah were present. Perhaps the disciples are to listen to Jesus rather than Moses and Elijah. But I don’t think it is a function of contrast but of fulfillment. Jewish Messianic expectations surrounded the prophetic figures of Moses and Elijah. The Messiah would be like Moses, and Elijah would precede the Messiah. Now Moses and Elijah have fulfilled their function, and the Son of Man, the Messiah, has arrived and is prepared to fulfill his mission. “Listen to him.” Listen to what he says about messianic mission–he is going to suffer and die, and only then enter into glory.

But as quickly as it happened, it was over. The dazzling glory receded (just as it had from the face of Moses at the tabernacle), Elijah and Moses have disappeared, and the echo of the voice fell silent. The disciples were alone with Jesus. It must have seemed like a dream, but their eyes and ears had not deceived them. It really happened, and it proclaimed the coming resurrection of Jesus and the eschatological glory of the second coming of Christ (cf. 2 Peter 1:16-18) even though the disciples did understand what Jesus meant by “rising from the dead.”

Yet, they do know what they just saw. They saw Elijah. Maybe that was what the teachers of the law meant by saying Elijah must first come before the Messiah (cf. Malachi 4:5).

Jesus acknowledges that Elijah must first come before the Messiah, but this was not that. Rather, John the Baptist was Elijah. His ministry ended just as the Son of Man’s will. Just as John suffered and died, so the Son of Man will too. They persecuted and executed John—“they have done to him everything they wished”—and they will persecute and execute the Son of Man just as they did to John.

The transfiguration is a momentous event in the life of Jesus. It assures him of eschatological, resurrected glory even though he must suffer and die. It is a foretaste not only of his resurrection but also of the consummation. It is the assurance that all things will be restored as the coming of Elijah promises. The kingdom of God will come. Indeed, it has already come, but it will come with power. That power is proleptically experienced at the transfiguration of Jesus, actualized in the person of Jesus through resurrection, and fully restores the kingdom of God to the earth at the parousia.

We stand where the disciples stand. We anticipate death but hope for glory. We “lose” our lives in order to save them. We follow Jesus to the cross and we hope in the resurrection. We give up the whole world in order to gain it in the kingdom of God. We believe, we follow and we wait.

Lord Jesus, come quickly.

David Lipscomb on the Purpose of Assembly

Mac Ice, a friend and former student (M.Div., Hazelip School of Theology, Lipscomb University), recently posted an article by David Lipscomb entitled “Congregational Worship” (Gospel Advocate 8.23 [5 June 1866] 360-361). It is an interesting piece in the light of contemporary use of assemblies for seekers or evangelism.

Here is but a snipet of what Lipscomb wrote (see the rest at Mac’s blog):

 The true and proper object of the weekly meeting, is as the family of God to meet HIM in his special and chosen appointments, where HE has promised to meet us.  Through these appointments prayer, praise, thanksgiving, observance of the memorials of the broken body and shed blood of our Savior and elder brother, and devout and prayerful study of HIS word, together with the observance of the fellowship and the kindly word of encouragement and brotherly love to our brethren and sisters.  These objects, then, are solely communion with God our Father, and with our brethren and sisters.  Now will these ends be advanced by the presence of strangers?

Assembly is not fundamentally about seekers or evangelism but rather about encounter. We meet God through assembly. This does not mean that the assembly should be exclusive. Indeed, it should be shaped by the mission of God (missional), but its primary function is sacramental encounter–to love God and love each other and to be loved by God. In loving, we will missionally encounter the “strangers” who are present as well. We do not gather for “strangers,” but they are loved when we love God first in our assemblies.

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Mac’s blog, called Escriptorium, records and interprets Stone-Campbell history, particularly the history of Nashville and Churches of Christ. He solicits any help that anyone can offer in filling out the history of Churchs of Christ in Nashville. He would welcome your input and data. He has a facebook page to faciliate that purpose.

Zechariah 5:1-4 – A Curse on Economic Injustice

Standing in awe of God’s gracious Spirit empowering Israel’s relationship with Yahweh (Zechariah 4), something catches Zechariah’s eye. The first line of the sixth vision highlights the sudden appearance of a strange object. Literally, Zechariah turns around to see what caught his attention, looks up into the sky, “sees” something and “behold,” that is, astonishingly, he sees a “flying scroll.” The rhetorical effect is surprise and wonder.

The angel, the same one standing with him in the previous vision, asks Zechariah what he sees. This functions as a dramatic pause that anticipates the description in the next verse.

What does he see? He sees a scroll that is 30 by 15 feet (literally, 20 x 10 cubits). Scrolls could reach lengths of 30 feet but were usually no more than 12 inches in width. This scroll is like a huge placard similar to a sign trailing a plane with an advertisement or a marriage proposal. The dimensions are significant but the reason why is rather uncertain. Perhaps it is simply large enough to read from a distance as it flies in the sky. Perhaps the dimensions say something about the enormity of the sins which the scroll curses.

One suggestion, that seems to make some sense, is that the dimensions are exactly those of Solomon’s temple portico (1 Kings 6:3) where priestly justice was probably administered (cf. Joel 2:17) and where innocents sought justice (1 Kings 8:31-32; cf. Psalm 7). The previous two visions were located in the temple and were about the rebuilding of the temple. The portico was the place where the curses (oaths) of the law were adjudicated. The flying scroll—a message from God (it is flying!)—is about justice, curses and oaths.

The angel interpreted the scroll in the context of justice. It is a “curse” (or oath) that  covers the whole land of Judah, primarily focused on Jerusalem. Like the Ten Commandments themselves (Exodus 32:15), both sides of the scroll were inscribed with the words of God. The curse, like the Deuteronomic curses of the law (Deuteronomy 27-29, especially 29:11-20), is a threat against covenant-breakers. There is evidence in the Ancient Near East that curses were written on a separate scroll in covenantal documents.

Through this curse, God will remove sin from the land. The curse will enter the homes of covenant-breakers and destroy them—whether their houses are built of timber or stones.  God will execute the curse against these wealthy homeowners. What Zechariah sees envisions a time when God will remove sin from the land of Judah.

But this is where it gets interesting. Upon what sins does the scroll focus? It seems that one part of the picture is the false administration of justice. Boda (Haggai, Zechariah of the NIV Application Commentary) argues convincingly that the NIV’s “will be banished” should be rendered “has been cleared” (see the use of the same Hebrew term in Numbers 5:19, 21). “The curse,” Boda says (p. 294), “is going out because the guilty are going unpunished.”

Who is going unpunished? The angelic interpreter specifies thieves and those who testify falsely in a court trial. Boda links this language to the Holiness code in Leviticus 19:11-18. The problem is economic injustice. The needy and the poor are oppressed and when they seek justice in the priestly courts, they are denied that justice. Under the economic distress of the early Persian period, the poor are denied justice by priests who should protect them from those who are stealing their land and means of sustenance. Boda notes that “swearing” and “falsely” appear together in contexts where one is oppressing or cheating another (Genesis 21:23; Leviticus 19:12; Jeremiah 5:2; 7:9; Malachi 3:5).

The sin of the land is the corruption of the priestly justice system where the poor are oppressed by thieves and their lying witnesses. The “flying scroll,” inscribed with a curse against economic injustice, promises to end this inequity and destroy the homes of the powerful. The sin of economic justice will be removed from the land, says Yahweh, the God of Israel.

Zechariah 5:5-11 – A New Temple for Greed and Power

Just as Zechariah lifted up his eyes to see the flying scroll in the last vision (Zechariah 5:1-4), his angelic guide throughout these visions tells him to lift them up again to see something else. The angel turns his attention away from the scroll to the appearance of a basket (ephah) which might hold anywhere from 5-10 gallons with a lead cover. The cover (literally, a talent of lead) was heavily weighted so that whatever was inside could not escape. The weight and basket were commonly used in the marketplace for measuring and weighing (cf. Micah 6:11).

As previously, Zechariah is uncertain about the meaning of the vision. What is this basket? Literally, “This is their eye [appearance] throughout the land.” The difficulty of that reading has led many to emend the text to “this is their iniquity throughout the land.” The difference between iniquity (‘ynm) and eye (‘wnm) is one stroke. Ancient translations, like the Septuagint and Syriac, read “iniquity,” and this has the value of often being paired with “wickedness” (Zechariah 5:8). The measuring basket with its weighted cover symbolizes the evil in the land of Judah.

This evil is personified by a woman who is imprisoned in the basket. What does this evil represent? Some connect it with the economics of the previous vision, that is, the measuring basket and lead weight point to economic practices. This is possible but it appears that more is intended here though probably building on that vision.

The wicked woman is carried to Shinar, that is, Babylon, by two women with stork wings. Storks are unclean animals (Leviticus 11:9; Deuteronomy 14:18) and every unclean bird, according to Revelation 18, is found in Babylon. The wind (ruach), a divine wind perhaps, carried them to Shinar. Arriving there, a house is built for her and the basket is set on a pedestal. This points us to temple-building in Shinar where an idol is erected for the sake of worship. Some identify this woman with the “Queen of Heaven” worshipped in Babylon (cf. Jeremiah 44:17-19), but I don’t think we are supposed to identity the woman with a particular religious cult.

Rather, Shinar alludes to Genesis 11 and the tower of Babel, or the ziggurat built as an assertion of their power and divine privileges. They wanted to make a name for themselves and erect a building in which they could take their place among the heavens as gods. The “let us” of Genesis 11 stands in contrast to the “let us” of Genesis 1. Humanity had assumed its own agenda in the world rather than joining God in the divine mission.

If the basket and weight connect us with economic practices, its removal to Babylon—where such practices are enshrined in Babel’s temple—point to the idolatry of greed and economic injustice. Mammon is worshipped in this temple, and such worship belongs to the ancient sin of Babel. It is the arrogance of human self-interest and pride.

Fundamentally, the vision recognizes that what is worshipped among the nations (e.g., power and greed) has no place in the land of Judah; it has no place within the kingdom of God. The evil is removed from the land of Judah and returned to the nations who pursue their own agenda. Judah, however, as the kingdom of God in the world, will pursue God’s mission.

Mark 9:14-29 – Faith Releases Kingdom Power

Moving from a glorious mountain-top ecstasy to the despairing valley of his disciples’ faithlessness, Jesus experiences a range of emotions. To experience bodily transfiguration, conversation with Elijah and Moses, and hear the voice of his delighted Father was a great delight (Mark 9:2-8), but to come down the mountain to hear his disciples arguing with religious leaders, learn of their failure of faith, and be confronted with a victorious demon was depressing. Jesus moves from confident hope to lament. Yes, though he will die, he is assured of resurrection, but will faith survive among his disciples?

We all have those moments (though perhaps not with these extremes)—moments when we have experienced God in such real ways only to encounter something the next day that totally discourages us. There are times when the reality of God is so vivid in our minds that our hearts soar but there are also those times when our hearts groan over the brokenness in the world. Jesus empathizes with us; he knows how we feel because his emotions have ranged between those two poles as well.

When Jesus, Peter, James and John finally came across the other disciples, they found teachers of the law questioning them in the middle of a large crowd. It must have been quite a commotion, and the occasion provided the scribes with an opportunity to question the kingdom mission of the disciples.

Jesus gave the disciples authority over demons as they announced that the “kingdom of God is near” and healed the broken (Mark 3:15; 6:6b-13). They had previously driven out many demons, but now—at the foot of Mt. Hermon, in the region of Caesarea Philippi, where pagan religious sites abounded—they had failed. They were incapable of casting out this demon. Their kingdom ministry was now in doubt. The crowds wondered, the scribes questioned, the broken wept, the demon reigned, and the disciples were befuddled.

The appearance of Jesus, however, changes the scene. The crowd excitedly runs to greet him. They are amazed by his presence, but nothing in the text tells us why. Perhaps they anticipate what Jesus might do to “fix” the situation. They welcome him as if he will settle the doubts now enveloping his kingdom ministry.

The problem, voiced by the father of the child, is that a demon afflicts a young man. From his childhood, this demon has muted him and thrown him into epileptic-like seizures. Mark provides significant details about this demon possession. The father describes his seizures (foaming at the mouth, gnashing his teeth and becoming rigid, Mark 9:18). When the demon sees Jesus, he throws him into a convulsion (rolling on the ground and foaming at the mouth, Mark 9:20). When Jesus asks how long has the demon possessed him, the father elaborates that his son is often endangered by being thrown into fire or water (Mark 9:22). Mark stresses the extreme nature of this case: length of time (“from childhood”), seizures, risks, and inability to speak. The demon reigns over this young man. Satan is winning.

The kingdom of God is at risk through the failure of the disciples. Jesus locates the failure in the disciples, specifically their faith. His lament is dramatic: “O unbelieving generation, how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you?” This language is revealing. Jesus weeps over this failure and what that failure represents about the reality of the world in which he ministers. Jesus is grieved, just as God grieved over Israel (Isaiah 63:8-10). Jesus laments with God.

Faith is an important theme in Mark. The message Jesus heralds is “repent and believe the gospel,” that is, believe the good news that the kingdom of God has arrived (Mark 1:15). The presence of faith or unbelief has been critical in some of Jesus’ healings (Mark 2:5; 5:34, 35; 6:6). Jesus has, on occasion, questioned the faith of his disciples (Mark 4:40) and been amazed at the faith of others (Mark 7:29).

Jesus sees himself as the kingdom prophet who lives among a faithless people. He endures their faithlessness. Perhaps this is directed toward the crowd and the scribes as well as the disciples, but the disciples are the focus of the text. It is their failure that occasioned this crisis and this lament.

But Jesus will not let this stand. The kingdom cannot remain at risk and demons must not rule in the presence of the King. He commands that the young man be brought to him: “bring him to me!” Jesus will act; he will redeem and heal. The reign of God will defeat the reign of Satan. Jesus rebuked the demon: “I command you, come out of him and never enter him again!” The authority, sureness and finality of his words are stunning. The kingdom of God reigns.

In fact, Mark’s description of the healing is practically a dramatic anticipation of the resurrection of Jesus himself. In the passion and death of Jesus, it appears that the demons win, but in the resurrection of Jesus the demons shriek and convulse but release Jesus from the grave. Just as the young appeared dead but was raised to his feet by Jesus, so Jesus, though dead, is raised to life. The kingdom of God reigns.

Between the lament and healing, however, is a revealing exchange between Jesus and the child’s father. The father appeals for help but it is tinged with uncertainty. “If you can…,” he hesitantly asks. “If you can?” Jesus responds. I don’t think Jesus is insulted by this father’s halting request. It has been conditioned by the faithlessness of the disciples and the apparent victory of the demon. It is difficult to fault the father in this situation. Rather, Jesus faults the situation.

The brokenness of the world fogs faith in; we can’t see clearly. Darkness blinds us to the light and faith cracks under the burden of hurt and pain. The father, weeping for his son and living in despair, reaches out for any possibility or any remedy. Jesus recognizes that faith has been crowded out by suffering.

But faith is the key. Faith releases kingdom power. “Everything is possible for him who believes,” Jesus says. Faith opens doors that are otherwise closed. Faith is the victory that overcomes the world, defeats the demons and heals the broken.

The father confesses faith but humbly acknowledges his doubts. Faith is never perfect; it is always a mixture of doubt. But imperfect faith is sufficient. The kingdom of God does not come through perfection but through faith—even a weak, doubting one. The power does not reside in faith but in the God who responds to our faith. The father’s son is healed even though he confesses, “I believe; help my unbelief.”

Once in private, as they had done on occasions previously (Mark 4:10; 7:17), the disciples asked for an explanation, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?” We might imagine that the disciples experienced a number of emotions in this scenario. They were probably frustrated, confused, embarrassed, and discouraged. What happened? What had gone wrong? They had done it before but now they could not.

Jesus’ answer is simple but profound: “This kind can come out only by prayer.” I wonder how the disciples heard that answer. Did they think, “We prayed!”? Or, perhaps they did not pray. Whatever their actions, prayer is the reason.

The point is probably not whether they actually articulated words to God or not. Rather, it is about the faith of prayer itself. It is about reliance on the power of God to reign in the world rather than self-reliance. Perhaps the disciples thought that they had been given authority and they could act on their own power or that that power was under their control. They simply had to wield it.

The answer “prayer” reminds us that God is the one who must act and kingdom ministry relies upon God’s power and not our own. Prayer expresses dependence upon God and apparently the disciples had forgotten that. Ministry can do that to us sometimes—we begin to think we are the center, focus and heart of kingdom life. We begin to think too highly of ourselves and we forget about “prayer.”

May God have mercy on us in our failures and remind us to depend on the power of the Spirit in our kingdom ministries.

Passion Predictions in the Gospel of Mark

The Gospel of Mark identifies three separate occasions when Jesus foretold his passion, death and resurrection to his disciples. Each prediction was limited to the twelve. His future was part of the Messianic secret. They were told to tell no one.

The first occasion was Mark 8:31-32. This immediately followed Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Messiah, and it was immediately followed by Jesus’ rebuke of Peter who presumed to correct the Son of Man’s own understanding of his messianic mission.

The second occasion was Mark 9:30-32. This follows the disciple’s failure to cast out a demon where they demonstrated a failure of faith and precedes their argument about who would be greatest in the kingdom of God. Jesus deliberately moves through the countryside of Galilee to avoid crowds so that he might have some private time with his disciples. But the disciples, as on previous occasions (cf. Mark 6:52; 8:21; 9:10), did not understand what Jesus was talking about. Further, they were afraid to ask for clarification. Perhaps they did not want to reveal their ignorance, or perhaps they did not want to know. When Jesus talked about death, they might have wanted to avoid the subject because they feared their own deaths. They would rather argue about who would be the greatest in thekingdomofGod—a much more pleasant topic, seemingly.

The third occasion was Mark 10:32-34. This prediction is sandwiched between Peter’s frustrated exclamation that they had left everything to follow Jesus and James and John’s request to have the right and left places of honor in the kingdom of God.

In each of these predictions, the disciples are in a very different place than Jesus.  The disciples are triumphalistic. They are dreaming of kingdom glory, places of honor and greatness. Jesus is facing the hard reality—he will be betrayed, suffer, and die. The predictions stand in immediate contrast with the disciples’ expectations. Their reaction is confusion, fear and avoidance.

Perhaps we learn something about ourselves in this. We much prefer the triumphalistic story. We prefer talk of victory rather than surrender. We prefer comfort over suffering. We would rather share our 10% than take up a cross.

When faced with the harsh reality of kingdom ministry, we become confused and afraid. We deflect and reinterpret (“it can’t mean that, can it?). We avoid the pressing issues of discipleship. We would rather talk about kingdom triumphs than suffering ministry.

The predictions of Jesus remind us that kingdom ministry is self-denial, taking up a cross and dying with Jesus. Only then do we save our lives; we only save them when we lose them.

*****************************

Below is a summary chart of Jesus’ passion predictions. The share the same substance: the Son of man, rejected by Jewish leaders, will be rejected, killed and raised on the third day. This is the basic summary of the messianic passion of Jesus. It is the story that Mark will expand from Mark 14-16.

	8:31-32	9:30-32	10:32-34
Son of Man	Yes	Yes	Yes
Betrayed		Yes	Yes
Suffer	Yes
Rejected	Yes
Hands of Men		Yes
Elders	Yes
Chief Priests	Yes		Yes
Teachers of Law	Yes		Yes
Condemned to Death			Yes
Hands of Gentiles			Yes
Mock Him			Yes
Spit on Him			Yes
Flog Him			Yes
Killed	Yes	Yes	Yes
Rise Again	Yes	Yes	Yes
After Three Days	Yes	Yes	Yes

Zechariah 6:1-8 – God is Sovereign Over the Nations

In his eighth and final vision, Zechariah sees four horse-drawn chariots emerging from between two bronze mountains. Each chariot had different color horses—red, black, white and spotted grey. The imagery is colorful, vibrant and awe-inspiring.

The chariots shoot out from between two bronze mountains. Bronze, with a kind of golden gleam, is how the mountains surrounding Jerusalem appear when the bright sun hits them in the morning. Bronze is also the material out of which the east-facing two pillars of Solomon’s temple were composed (1 Kings 7:13-22). The number identifies these mountains with the temple pillars and the chariots therefore emerge from the temple, the dwelling place of God. The chariots are sent out by God from the heavenly council.

The chariots, with their war-horses, are military symbols; they represent power. But there are only four chariots rather than thousands. Ancient Near Eastern religious art often pictured divine warriors with their chariot hosts. Yahweh is often pictured in Israel’s literature as a divine warrior who goes out to conquer and rule the world for the sake of his people (cf. Psalm 68:7; Habakkuk 3:8).

While many see significance in the colors of the horses, it seems to me the number four is more significant. The chariots are the sovereign reach of God throughout the whole earth. They are the “spirits” or “winds” (the Hebrew term is ruach) that stand “in the presence of the Lord of the whole earth.” They are present in the heavenly council of God. Whether we read the term as “four spirits” or “four winds,” the result is essentially the same. “Four winds,” like in other prophetic texts (Ezekiel 37:9; Jeremiah 49:36; Daniel 8:8; 11:4), remind us of the four corners of the earth—the points on a compass. But the “winds” are “standing” in the presence of God. They await their orders. The winds are personified and thus are angelic themselves. As Psalm 104:3-4 sings, God makes the winds his messengers or angels.

The winds—or angelic servants—are poised to perform their tasks throughout the earth (repeated three times in Zechariah 6:7). The winds have a universal function—they go anywhere in the earth and the whole earth is subject to God’s sovereign reign. They patrol God’s world.

The chariots are sent out from the heavenly council to accomplish the will of God. The black horse goes north and spotted gray goes south, but there is no mention of the red horse and the Hebrew text sends the white horse following the black horse to the north. Some translations emend the destination of the white horse to read “west” which gives the text some symmetry (the four directions of the compass) and assumes that the red horse stayed in the east.

However, it is not necessary to emend the text since the point is not that the horses stay within the boundaries of their assigned geographical sectors. Rather, the four horses represent the work of God throughout the whole earth. They are sent where they are ordered. Two horses are sent to the north, one the south and the other, apparently, remains in the region of the temple itself. Perhaps the red horse is the commander, just as the rider of the red horse in the first vision was (Zechariah 1:8, 11).

The point is that God is sending servants to the north and south. In the historical setting of Judah, the north is the primary origin of Israel’s enemies—whether Assyria or Babylon. The south refers to other superpower in the region, Egypt. God is exerting his sovereignty over the nations; they will serve God’s purposes and God will accomplish his will for Judah. God rules over superpowers.

What do these horses accomplish? The Lord himself speaks to Zechariah and identifies their purpose. It is a prophetic announcement emphasized by the language “he cried” and “behold.” This is the interpretation of the vision.

The chariots bring “rest” to “my S(s)pirit,” says the Lord. The verb “to rest” is sometimes used in relation to anger (cf. Ezekiel 16:42; 21:17), and ruach (spirit) can refer to anger (Proverbs 16:32). God’s anger, his passionate jealousy for righteousness, was triggered by the wickedness of the nations (cf. Zechariah 1:14-15, 19). God sends his chariots, his “winds” (ruach), which quiet his “spirit” (ruach). God is at rest once again as the Lord of the whole earth exercises his sovereign rule over the nations.

The nations are no match for God as God will reign over the earth. God acted against Babylon in the north and Egypt in the south in order to make space of Judah to rebuild the temple. But this was more than  Judah’s history—their return to the land, it was also a promise of a future yet to come. God’s purposes will not be thwarted. God will rebuild his temple and he will, in the coming future, come to that temple (cf. Malachi 3:1).

God’s chariots still patrol the earth. Superpowers do not control their own destiny. God will accomplish the divine purpose and no nation can stop it.

Zechariah 6:9-15 – The Temple Will Be Rebuilt

Zechariah has seen eight visions (1:7-6:8). The visions portrayed a God who is sovereign over the nations (first and eighth visions), a God who punishes the evil of the nations and removes it from Judah (second and seventh visions), a God who reestablishes temple and covenants with his people (third and sixth visions), and a God who restores the priestly and royal functions to Judah (fourth and fifth visions).What is the cumulative meaning of these visions?

Zechariah 6:9-15 is neither a vision nor does it belong to chapter 7 which is separated by from chapter 6 by the dating of the next oracle. Zechariah 6:9-15 stands as a prophetic comment on the visions. The meaning of the visions is embedded in this “word of the Lord” (Zechariah 6:9).

Zechariah is given a task by Yahweh. This task is itself a prophetic sign, a performed word. What Zechariah does enacts the reality of the divine promises. It inaugurates the present but it also promises a future. The word of the Lord is “already, but not yet.”

It appears that some priests (e.g., Tobiah, cf. Ezra 2:59-62) had recently arrived from Babylon with treasures of gold and silver. They were part of the exiled community that has returned and the text anticipates that more will return (same verb is used in 6:10 and 6:15). What the exiled priests bring back to Jerusalem will be used as a symbol (“memorial” in 6:14; cf. Exodus 13:9; 28:12, 29; Numbers 10:10) for what God is promising those who have returned to Jerusalem. It is a performed sign, an effective sign–much like the sacraments within the Christian faith. The headgears (“crowns” is plural in Hebrew) that are constructed out of the gold and silver are symbols of promise—they are signs that God will do what he has promised.

One “crown” is placed on the head of Joshua, the high priest. The other crown is reserved—as a memorial—for another head. The word “crown,” Boda suggests (NIV Application Commentary on Zechariah, p. 338), may refer to royalty but more often denotes beauty and honor (cf. Isaiah 28:1-5). It is not strictly reserved for kings or queens. It does not necessarily have a royal coronation but rather a matter of honor or official recognition. Joshua is the high priest. He is an honored official.

The other “crown” is for the Branch. Joshua is not the Branch (though the NIV translation makes it appear that way). Literally, “Behold a man, Branch is his name…” will come. Joshua is promised that another leader will come who has not yet arrived or who is not present at the moment. This leader, presumably, is Zerrubabel (based on the fifth vision). The word of the Lord to Joshua through Zechariah describes this one who is coming (the below structure is from Boda, p. 340, though others think Zechariah is alternately speaking to Joshua and then Zerubbabel):

Behold, a man, Branch (semah) is his name

He will grow (samah) from his place

He will build the temple of the Lord

He, indeed, will build the temple of the Lord

He will be clothed with majesty

He will sit and rule on his throne

A priest will be on his throne

A counsel of peace will be between them

The language of “Branch” comes from Jeremiah 23:5-6 and 33:7-16. It is a Davidic descendent who will return Judah to prosperity after their exile. The Davidic line will remain and rule over Judah. Zechariah identifies this Branch as the one who will rebuild the temple as well as sit on the throne of David.

It is important to note that “he will rebuild the temple of the Lord” is said twice. It is the point of the word about the Branch. Post-exilic Judah is assured by the Lord that the temple will be rebuilt and this is means that the Lord will return to temple, the dwelling place of God.

But there is yet another mentioned in this word from the Lord–there are “two” in the last line. He is a priest who sits on a throne and there will be peace between the Davidic Branch and this priest. The fact that there are two, rather than just one person, is indicated by the last line in Zechariah 6:13. But can a priest occupy a throne? Eli did (1 Samuel 1:9; 4:13,18), but the reference is probably to a council seat near the king. Others sat on thrones as they advised kings (cf. 1 Kings 2:19; 22:10). The priest who sits at the right of the king is enthroned as his counsel, and their relationship is harmonious. They will cooperate in the rebuilding of the temple. Joshua will assist Zerubbabel who will rebuild the temple.

What is the word of the Lord in this text?  What is the promise? Fundamentally, it is that the temple will be rebuilt. Zerubbabel and Joshua will cooperate in its rebuilding. This is the promise of the Lord to Judah through the words of the prophet Zechariah.

The fundamental meaning of the visions is that the temple will be rebuilt. As Israel returns to God, so God returns to Israel–which is the basic message of Zechariah (Zechariah 1:1-6). The temple will be built and God will come to dwell among his people. The memorial crown is Judah’s assurance that God will accomplish his promise. God will return to his people just as assuredly they have returned to the land of their forefathers.

But is there more to this? The message has a clear historical grounding in the situation of Judah in the Persian period. At the same time, the message has a Messianic ring as even Second Temple Judaism recognized. This word encompasses more than the rebuilding of the temple but, taken with all the night visions, it points to another who will unite the priestly and royal offices in a new temple of God. It points to a time when the nations themselves will become part of the people of God.

The “crownings” of Joshua and Zerubbabel are real but symbolic. They function as divine representatives in Judah but they point beyond themselves to a Messianic figure. There is a temple to be built by those who “afar off”—which probably refers not only to the Jewish diaspora but also the inclusion of the nations (cf. Zechariah 2:11; 8:22). The temple of Joshua and Zerubbabel is not the final temple, the final dwelling place of God. Rather, the Messiah will build a new temple and the reign of God will fill the earth. And, ultimately, that reigning Messiah will bring a new Jerusalem to the new heavens and new earth where there will be no need for a temple because God and the Lamb will dwell there.

R. C. Bell, Divine Dynamics, and the Holy Spirit

R. C. Bell (1877-1964) attended the Nashville Bible School from 1896-1901. James A. Harding took Bell with him as a faculty member at the newly founded Potter Bible College in 1901. Later Bell would teach at several different colleges among Churches of Christ and eventually ended up at Abilene Christian College as a beloved teacher.

In 1959, Bell was asked to give a lecture on “A Lifetime Spent in Christian Education” and he used the opportunity to lament the shift among Churches of Christ that distressed him. In his autobiographical article in the 1951 Firm Foundation he had warned that the church needed a new infusion of the kingdom theology of James A. Harding in order “to save [it] from changing divine dynamics to human mechanics” (“Honor to Whom Honor is Due,” Firm Foundation 68 [6 November 1951], 6). Now, in his closing years, describes what is lacking among Churches of Christ in 1959.

The whole speech is available in another post. Below I have excerpted a few significant parts below.

“Especially, [Harding’s] soul-kindling faith in God as a personal Friend matched the wave length of my eager, hungry heart. I caught his contagious enthusiasm for God as a Father who personally identifies himself with each of His own, and for the Holy Spirit as a Comforter who personally resides in and empowers every Christian, slowly enough.  However, [his] conception of Christianity as “a divine-human encounter,” in which immediate spiritual communion between God and man is established and perpetually maintained, gradually, became also my conception of Christianity.

“I also knew that in such vital matters as Christians being crucified to the world and the world’s being crucified to Christians (Gal. 6:14), and as Christians really believing with all their hearts that the Holy Spirit was working personally in them to help their infirmity, to pray unutterable prayers for them, and to make all things work together for their good (Rom. 8:26-28) so that they, ever mindful of the Lord’s presence, might be anxious about nothing, praying in everything, thankful in anything, and possess ‘the peace of God, which passeth all understanding’ (Phil. 4:5-7), the primitive church was not being fully restored. In short, I knew that church of which I was a member was not identical in all things with the church of the New Testament.

“With more and more lived faith, as the years passed and I myself increased in spiritual stature, I taught, first, that the personal presence and conjoint working of the ‘Three-personal God’ (Father and Son and Spirit) in and through cooperating Christians is at the very heart of Christianity; and second that Christianity, primarily, consists, not in what Christians do for Christ, but in what Christ does for Christians.

“When Christians fail to make use of the sanctifying portion of Christianity, as though it were an optional adjunct instead of the built-in essential which it is, they harden into harsh, unloving, unloved, self-sanctifying, unlawful legalists and defeated Pharisees, biting and devouring one another as the Galatians were doing (Gal. 5:13-15). A man’s unchristian self-effort to justify himself no more certainly leads to arrogant self-righteousness than does the same kind of effort to sanctify himself.”

The Nashville Establishment?

My friend, Chris Cotten, along with Mac Ice, have a significant interest in the history of Nashville Churches of Christ. Both of their blogs have wonderful pieces on that history.

Yesterday I read Chris’s piece on the “Nashville Establishment,” which identifies one aspect of the institutional growth of Churches of Christ in the middle of the 20th century. In particular, he tells the story of Comer family who funded many ecclesial and institutional projects. I highly recommend the post as a window into the “Jerusalem” of Churches of Christ institutionally, especially in the 1920s-60s.

Institutional power has shaped our history in significant ways even while we decry such power.  I wonder what Uncle Dave–David Lipscomb–would think about the ecclesiastical power and diversity of his city 100 hundred years later. I could venture a guess, but read Chris’s piece first.

Nashville Establishment? Say it ain’t so, Joe! Maybe, maybe not.

May God have mercy, as my friend Don Haymes continually prays for us.

Zechariah 7:7-14: Are You Still Socially Irresponsible Like Your Ancestors?

The earlier prophets, Zechariah announces to post-exilic Judah, delivered the word of the Lord to their ancestors. The Spirit of God sent messages to them but they did not listen. Yahweh sent word after word to various prophets in the pre-exilic era but they did not listen.

The prophet describes them with three metaphors:

• They turned their backs like a stubborn animal who refuses a yoke.
• They stopped their ears so that they could not hear.
• They made their hearts as hard as flint (a rock that can sharpen knives).

They were insubordinate, inattentive and stone-hearted. They did not care. They were insensitive and uncaring about the plight of the poor in the land. They pursued injustice rather than loving their neighbors. They did not listen because they loved themselves more than their neighbors. Zechariah accuses post-exilic Judah of pursuing the same interests as pre-exilic Judah. The people had not changed.

Zechariah summarizes the message of the earlier prophets. It is a classic distillation of Amos (5:24), Hosea (4:1-3; 12:6), Micah (6:8), Isaiah (58:6-8) and Jeremiah (7:5-6). It is a stunning message about social responsibility—two prescriptions and two prohibitions.

• Administer true justice, or “justice and faithfulness”
• Show mercy (hesed) and compassion to one another
• Do not oppress the marginalized (widow, orphan, alien or poor)
• Do not devise evil in your hearts against each other

This language rehearses the theme of social injustice so prominent in the prophets. In fact, the Hebrew “devise evil” is situated in a legal context in Zechariah 8:16-17. Those who were charged with protecting the marginalized are abusing their power for their own interests. Justice is perverted. The courts, even the priestly courts, facilitate the mistreatment of the widow, orphan, alien and poor. Instead of mercy, compassion, justice and faithfulness, the people “devise evil” against each other, literally “brothers.” Instead of loving their neighbors, they exploit them.

This perverts the very essence of the Torah. It subverts Israel’s own history as an alien and slave loved by Yahweh. Just as Yahweh loved Israel as an alien (a marginalized outsider), so Israel is to love the alien (the marginalized; cf. Deuteronomy 10:17-20). This is the very heart of God and embodies the greatest commandment–to love the Lord our God with our whole heart. We love God by loving our neighbor; we love God in our neighbor.

The sins of pre-exilic Israel continued in post-exilic Judah. Hadn’t the people learned their lesson? Don’t they remember how angry God was about such injustices? Zechariah reminds them.

In the midst of their injustice, God did not answer when they called because they did not listen when God called. God turned the tables. Whereas they did not show mercy and compassion to the strangers in their midst, so God made them strangers by scattering them to lands they did not know. Because Israel mistreated the homeless, they became homeless. Their beautiful land—a garden that God had prepared for his people—became a desolate region (cf. Jeremiah 3:19-21).

The message of Zechariah is a word from the Lord: “return to me and I will return to you” (Zechariah 1:2). But Judah has not yet returned to God. Instead, they continue the practices of their forefathers; they have not heeded the warning or learned the lesson. Judah must become a nation for the poor; it must become a place of mercy and compassion, of truth and faithfulness, for the underprivileged.

Will Judah listen? Will we?

Zechariah 7:1-6: Why Do You Fast?

On December 7, 518 BCE, almost two years after Zechariah’s eight visions on February 15, 519 assure Judah that the temple will be rebuilt (Zechariah 1:7) and two years before the dedication of the temple on March 12, 516 (Ezra 6:15-18), a delegation from Bethel comes to Jerusalem to ask Yahweh a question. They ask the “priests of the house of the Lord Almighty and the prophets.” Zechariah answers.

Bethel, it should be remembered, was a rival worship center during the Divided Kingdom. The city, which hosted a “temple of the kingdom” for Israel, had once excluded the prophets of Yahweh, but now comes to Jerusalem to seek a word from Yahweh. Amos 7:10-16 records the occasion when Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, petitioned Jeroboam II to send the prophet Amos back to Judah. Now, however, representatives from Bethel come to Jerusalem to seek an answer from Yahweh.

Unlike other characters in Zechariah’s oracles, the Bethel representatives have Babylonian names. Perhaps they, too, are recent returnees from exile. Whatever the origin, their names symbolize their inquiry. Their question is about lament, mourning and fasting. Given that some have returned to the land and the temple is almost complete, should the people continue to fast? Should they continue their exilic mourning practices? In other words, is the exile over? Are our sins forgiven? Has God returned?

Exilic fasting rituals were extensive as Judah lamented its losses and mourned its sin. One third of the year was spent in lament—four of the twelve months were dedicated to fasting (Zechariah 8:19). Each month was connected to an experience in the history of the fall of Jerusalem and the subjugation of Judah. The chart below provides the links (Boda, NIV Application Commentary: Haggai, Zechariah, p. 357).

Month	Event	Reference
Tenth (588)	Beginning of the Siege ofJerusalem	2 Kgs 25:1; Jer 39:1
Fourth (587)	JerusalemWalls Breached	2 Kgs 25:3-7; Jer 52:6-11
Fifth (587)	JerusalemDestroyed	2 Kgs 25:8-12; Jer 52:12-16
Seventh (587)	Governor Gedaliah Assassinated	2 Kgs 25:25-26; Jer 41:1-3

Exiled Judah had mourned the loss of Jerusalem and the temple for almost seventy years which was the number Jeremiah (25:11-12; 29:10), the Chronicler (2 Chronicles 36:21) and Daniel (9:2) say represented the exile. Fasting was probably a daytime fast—between dawn and sunset throughout the whole month. They were anticipating the potential end of the fasts on the fifth month of 517. Should Judah continue to fast since the seventy years are essentially over?

Zechariah responds to the question with four oracles. Each is distinguished from the other by the phrase “the word of the Lord came to Zechariah (me).”

• Why did you fast? (Zechariah 7:4-7)
• Are you still socially irresponsible like your fathers? (Zechariah 7:8-14)
• Will not Yahweh return to dwell in Jerusalem again? (Zechariah 8:1-17)
• Will not the remnant feast rather than fast? (Zechariah 8:18-23)

Yahweh responds to their question with a question: “When you fasted and mourned…for the past seventy years, was it really for me that you fasted?” The question is also extended to their eating and drinking. When they fasted during the daylight hours and then ate in the evening, why did they maintain this ritual? Who was their focus? What was their focus?

It is important to notice how Zechariah redirects the question. Bethel asks Zechariah, but he asks them to seek an answer from “all the people of the land and the priests.” This may seem like a rather general way of speaking, that is, “ask everybody” but it is more focused. Ezra 4:4, for example, uses the phrase “people of the land” to refer to those who remained in Judah during the exile. The priests are those who administer justice. This might allude to the problem of ownership, land titles and social injustice (cf. Ezekiel 11:14-17 for an illustration).

Zechariah’s question is an accusation. Those practicing injustice fasted but they did so for their own sakes rather than for Yahweh. It was not a sign of repentance. Rather, the exile became an occasion for exploitation. They continued the practices of their fathers (cf. Zechariah 7:9-10) as they took advantage of the poor and oppressed.

Yahweh has seen this before, and the earlier prophets spoke on the same point. There was an earlier time when the Negev (the southern region of Judah) and the Shephelah (the western rolling hills of Judah) were settled and prosperous, when Jerusalem itself was at rest. Though at peace, the rulers and wealthy pursued injustice instead of loving their neighbors (cf. Jeremiah 7:5-7).

Ritual fasting does not mask economic injustice. True fasting is to love your neighbor—to feed the hungry and clothe the naked (Isaiah 58:6-8). Self-centered ritualistic fasting evokes God’s rebuke but the self-denial of sharing with the poor receives God’s commendation.

So, why do you fast?

Mark 9:33-50 — Wanna Be Great? Don’t Scandalize My “Little Ones”

While many have treated this section of Mark as a series of isolated sayings that follow a passion prediction, the thread that runs through it carries a powerful punch if we hear it as one continuous exchange between Jesus and his disciples. This thread directly connects with the prediction. Just as Jesus would serve others by suffering, so the disciples must learn to serve others as well.

Mark situates these “sayings” between “they came to [his home base in] Capernaum” (9:33) and “Jesus left that place” to go to Judea (10:1). The narrative offers this as one integrated segment—a teaching moment for the disciples. The section begins with a dispute over who is the greatest (9:33) and ends with Jesus’ imperative to live in peace with each other (9:50).

This teaching moment is occasioned by the disciples’ own self-interestedness, pride and envy. As they travelled to Capernaum, they had argued over the question “who was the greatest?” This sets the tone and theme of this pericope. Jesus understood what the argument was about—who is first? How will each of the twelve rank in the kingdom of God? Disciples wondered and debated where each would fall in the coming kingdom. Who would be first?

The narrative is deliberate here. When no one would confess the topic of their argument, Jesus sat down and called the twelve together. This enhances the point and signals how significant this section is to the narrator. Jesus then articulates the theme that will run through the rest of his conversation with the disciples: “you must be last and servant of all if you want to be first.”

This is a radical reorientation for the disciples. They imagined that they would be rulers in the coming kingdom. They imagined that as the twelve, specially empowered by Jesus, that they would have “firsts” in the kingdom and that even one of them would be at the right hand of King Jesus–the “greatest” besides Jesus. Now they hear that they must serve others as “lasts” in the kingdom rather than “firsts.” No doubt they had a difficult time fathoming what that meant.

Jesus then enacts a parable to explain his meaning. He places a child in the middle of the twelve and then enwraps the child in his arms. Both acts are symbolic. The child reminds them of the focus of their mission and how others are the center of attention rather than themselves. When Jesus hugs the child, it symbolizes how Jesus welcomes the “little ones” and loves them.

The task of the disciples is to welcome “little ones” in the name of Jesus because this is to welcome Jesus himself. Moreover, it is to welcome God who sent Jesus. When we love our neighbor—welcome the little ones—we love God in our neighbor. The disciples are reminded that their ministry is not self-aggrandizement, power or wealth but to welcome others in the name of Jesus.

At this point John interrupts Jesus to announce how the disciples stood up for the integrity of Jesus’s ministry. This is apparently something that they took great pride in doing. They had hindered the ministry of another—someone who was exorcizing demons in the name of Jesus—“because he did not follow us” (literal translation). The disciples seemed to have reasoned that because this person was not one of the twelve or not attached to their entourage that he should not be “doing good” in the name of Jesus. That privilege, they thought, belonged to them. They were the ones who were with Jesus and empowered by him to do miracles. This other person’s ministry threatened their status and potential role in the kingdom. He did not “follow us.” And the emphasis is on “us.”

Jesus must have been incredulous. His immediate response is an imperative: “don’t stop him!” We can feel the exasperation in Jesus’ language. Anyone who does anything good in the name of Jesus is for “us” and not against “us,” he said. Just because they do not “follow us” (in the language of the disciples) does not mean that they are not “for us.” The “us” is larger than the disciples imagined. They thought of their discipleship as an exclusive group but Jesus enlarges it. Indeed, anyone who offers a cup of cold water (a small act of kindness) in the name of Jesus should be welcomed rather than excluded. God will welcome them; God will reward them. And the community of faith—the Twelve in this case—must welcome them too.

It is important to link the next section to the previous one. What the disciples did to this exorcist was scandalous. They failed to welcome a “little one;” they failed to welcome another who was doing good in the name of Jesus. Now they must hear Jesus’s rebuke.

What the disciples did to this exorcist, this “little one,” endangered their life in the kingdom. They had scandalized (“cause to sin” in the NIV) him by hindering and discouraging him. The disciples would have been better off if they had thrown themselves into the sea with a heavy weight. The hyperbole has a point. If anyone’s hand, foot or eye scandalizes another, it is better to remove them than to injure yourselves or others.

The hyperbole points to the seriousness with which Jesus regarded the actions of the disciples. Because of their pride and kingdom power-seeking (they wanted to be “first”), they had scandalized one of Jesus’s “little ones”—a person who was doing good in the name of Jesus. This approach to kingdom life and the scandals it creates leads to ghenna (hell). It is a path that leads to destruction. It is better to remove all obstacles to authentic kingdom life than it is to live comfortably (with hands, feet, and eyes) in a way that leads to hell. “It is better,” Jesus says, “to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell.”

Jesus reminds them that hell is destruction. It is not a way of life but a way of death. Kingdom living gives life but prideful self-exaltation is the way of death, the way of hell. He underscores the destructive end of such a life by quoting Isaiah 66:24. Hell is the place where the worms do not die (where worm feed on dead bodies) and the fire is unquenchable (that is, a place where the fire accomplishes its purpose). Isaiah envisions a field of unbuired corpses where worms and fire destroy life and confirm death. It is a picture of shame rather than pain; it is a picture of destruction.

The most difficult aspect of this text is whether Mark 9:49 is a comment on the Isaianic text (linked by the word “fire”) or whether it belongs with the final saying of Jesus in the chapter in Mark 9:50 (linked by the word “salt”). The majority understanding is that Jesus is alluding to the practice of salting sacrifices in the Levitical system (Leviticus 2:13). In other words, a life dedicated to God is like a salted sacrifice that is purified by fire. Others—a minority report—suggest that it is an image of destruction that more naturally goes with Isaiah’s description. When a city was burned, the victors would sometimes sprinkle salt on the ground to render it uninhabitable (Judges 9:45). Thus, the meaning would be that everyone who is thrown into hell will be destroyed by fire. Whichever is the case, either meaning contributes to the thread of the text as scandalizers will be destroyed (salted) or disciples will be tried (salted) by fire.

The final saying in this section, like the first thematic one in Mark 9:35, summarizes the proper orientation of kingdom living. Kingdom people are salt, that is, they are ministers of good in the world. Scandalizing the “little ones” or seeking preeminence in the kingdom corrupts that salt so that it is no longer any good. Instead, disciples must continue as salt so that they might live in peace with each other.

The final imperative, live in peace with each other, unites the narrative. In the light of their previous argument about who was the greatest, Jesus insists that they live in peace—not only with themselves, but with the “little ones” as well. When God reigns, peace reigns, but when pride reigns, we find ourselves on a path to hell.

Radical kingdom reorientation saturates this text. Disciples are “servants of all.” Disciples welcome others; they welcome “little ones” even when it appears a threat to their own status. Disciples would rather cut off their own hand than scandalize another who is doing good in the name of Jesus. Disciples live in peace because they love the kingdom more than their own lives.

Where can we find disciples like that?

Will Jesus Return to Earth? David Lipscomb Speaks

Lipscomb was asked: “What are the times of restoration and the all things spoken of by the prophets in Acts 3:20,21?”

According to J. W. Shepherd’s Queries and Answers (published by F. L. Rowe, 1918), Lipscomb responded in this way (p. 360):

Jesus had been to earth and returned to heaven. Heaven must receive him until “the times of restoration of all things.” Then “the times of restoration of all things” must be when Jesus returns again to earth–the restoration of all things to their original relation to God. The relation which the world originally sustained to God was boken and destroyed when man, the ruler, rebelled against God. That destruction of the world’s relation to God was more far-reaching and destructive than we realize. The whole material creation shared in the evil. Briers, thistles, thorns grew in the material world, as in the spiritual. Sickness, death, mortality afflicted the material world. When man rebelled against his Maker, the under creation rebelled against man. The laws of the natural world were disordered. The germs of vegetation put forth; biting frosts or burning heat destroys them. Disorder in the laws of the material world came as the result of man’s sin against his Maker. When Jesus comes again, the will of God will be done on earth as it is in heaven, and all things in the world will be restored to harmonious relations with God, the Supreme Ruler of the Universe.

There are, at least, two interesting points in this brief answer.  First, Jesus will return to earth and when he returns to earth it will involve the full harmony of God, humanity and creation as the will of God will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Second, Lipscomb recognizes a strong connection between human evil and disorder (chaos) within creation. Whether or not one thinks of this in terms of Adam & Eve or one thinks about it in terms of the interconnectedness of created reality, moral evil has ecological effects (cf. Hosea 4:1-3). The restoration of all things includes redemption for God’s creation and the final defeat of chaos within the creation.

Sermon on the Mount and the Epistles, David Lipscomb Prioritizes

It may sound rather strange to some ears, but at the turn of the 20th century there was some debate among Churches of Christ whether the Sermon on the Mount was intended for Christians. For example, Lipscomb was asked on one occasion whether he could “show that it s a Christian duty to try to obey everything taught by Christ in the sermon recorded in Matthew 5-7 and in Luke 6?” Giving away their own heremeneutical perspective, the querist further asked, “Should not Christians in this age go to the Epistles, rather, for teaching as to their duty?” (See Shepherd, ed, Queries and Answers [Cincinnati: F. L. Rowe, 1918], 384.)

James A. Harding, who shared Lipscomb’s convictions on this point, contended that the Sermon of the Mount is kingdom ethics against those who would deny its applicability to Christians (see, for example,“To Whom Was the Sermon on the Mount Addressed?  A Reply to Dr. Holloway,” Christian Leader and the Way 20.14 [3 April 1906], 8-9, “Bro. Devore’s Criticism and My Reply,” Christian Leader and the Way 21.8 [19 February 1907], 8-9 and “A Reply to Bro. Miller’s View Concerning the Sermon on the Mount,” Christian Leader and the Way 21.11 [12 March 1907], 8-9). It seems that the undermining of the Sermon of Mount as belonging either the Jewish dispensation or only applicable to the apostles was not too rare among Churches of Christ at the beginning of the 20th century.

While there is legitimate concern that some are devaluing Paul in order to exalt the Gospels in our own day, our history within Churches of Christ is one that exalts Paul over the Gospels. It is part of our original DNA as Alexander Campbell taught that “neither are the statutes and laws of the Christian kingdom to be sought for in the Jewish scriptures, nor antecedent to the day of Pentecost; except so far as our Lord himself, during his lifetime propounded the doctrine of his reign” (Christian System, p. 123). The exceptions quickly disappeared among some, and so much so that even the Sermon on the Mount was thought to only apply to the twelve or were versions of kingdom ethics for Jews or disciples prior to Pentecost.

Lipscomb responded, in part, that “the Sermon on the Mount is the summing up, the announcement of the great principles that were to govern in his kingdom. The Epistles and all the teachings of the apostles are a reiteration of his teachings and the application of them to the affairs of life as they arose.”

“So the Sermon on the Mount is the presentation of the great fundamental principles of the Christian dispensation, and the Epistles are the application of these principle to the conditions of life by the Holy Spirit. Then there is not a single principle taught in the Sermon on the Mount but what is reiterated and applied in the Epistles…these teachings of Christ were to make men like God, that they might be fitted to dwell with him. Do not all Christians need to be trained into a fitness to dwell with God as much as the apostles did?” (Queries and Answers, p. 384).

The Gospels are foundational and the Epistles are applications. Lipscomb is thinking about ethics, I surmise. I wonder if we should not think this way in terms of the Christian faith itself. The Gospels describe our faith as following Jesus, that is, participating in the ministry of Jesus. The Epistles (e.g., Paul) illustrate and apply how to do that in a Greco-Roman context. The Gospels lay the foundation and the Epistles guide our way.  There is no need to choose one over the other. Instead, we hold both together and correlate their theological function.

Theologically, we might put it this way: the Gospels are foundational exhortations to participate in the story and the Epistles are concrete applications for concrete situations rooted in the ministry and work of Christ.

I think Lipscomb would have agreed to some extent.  He writes: “One can find the principles and duties of life presented in the Epistles; he can find these principles much more concisely and connectedly set forth in the Sermon on the Mount. It is like a lawyer taking the laws, and then searching the decisions of the courts construing and applying the laws. The Sermon on the Mount is a presentation fo the principles that prevail in heaven. They are given that man may practice them here and by this fit himself to live in heaven.”

The centrality of the Sermon on the Mount is at the heart of Lipscomb’s political and ethical orientation.  Here are a couple of other examples from Civil Government (pp. 57-58 and 133).

     Christ having resisted successfully these tempting offers of the devil, and having shown his true loyalty to God, the angels of God came and ministered unto him. He then lays down the principles that must govern in his kingdom. They are epitomized in 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of Matthew. These principles are diverse from and antagonistic to the principles that have obtained and must ever obtain in all human governments. No human government can possibly be maintained and conducted on these principles laid down for the government of Christ’s subjects in his kingdom. The spirit that prompts the practice of the principles is opposed to the spirit needful for the maintenance of human governments. The two spirits cannot dwell in the same heart, nor the same temple, or institution. A man cannot be gentle, forgiving, doing good for evil, turning the other cheek when one is smitten, praying “for them that despitefully use and persecute” him, and at the same time execute wrath and vengeance on the evil-doer, as the human government is ordained to do, and as it must do to sustain its authority and maintain its existence.

      The sermon on the Mount, embraced in the fifth, sixth and seventh chapters of Matthew, certainly contain the living and essential principles of the religion the Savior came to establish, those which must pervade and control the hearts and lives of men, without which no man can be a Christian.

David Lipscomb on Sectarians

I would say that it is wrong to encourage sectarianism in any way, if we can tell which are sectarians. But my observation is that it takes a sectarian to ferret out a sectarian, just as “it takes a rogue to catch a rogue.” Unfortunately, all the sectarians are not in sectarian churches; and I hope that some in sectarian churches are not sectarians. Things get badly mixed in this world.  Sometimes people who wish to obey God are born and reared in sectarian influences. A man who loves party more than he loves God is a sectarian. A man who divides the church of God for a theory or teaching not required by God is a sectarian. A person who pushes an idea or practice not required by God, to the disturbance of the peace of that church, or that exalts a human opinion or practice to an equality with the commands of God, is a sectarian and a heretic.

There are some in nonsectarian churches who are sectarians, who violate the laws of God in order to oppose sectarians. There are some in sectarian churches who will obey God and follow him in spite of the sectarianism of the churches in which they find themselves. As examples, there are persons in the Baptist, Methodist, and Presbyterian Churches who were baptized to obey God rather than to please the sects. In this they rise above the sectarian spirit, despite the parties in which they find themselves. They ought to get out of the sectarian churches, but they see so much sectarianism in the nonsectarian churches that they think they are all alike.

Peter and John, Paul and Barnabas, all met with the sectarian Jews at their times and places of worship and participated with them, that they might find an opportunity to speak a word for the truth. I do not think it hurts any man, sectarian or sinner, to read the Bible anywhere at any time. I do not think it hurts any one to heart the Bible read by sectarian or sinner at any time or place. The great end is to be true and faithful to the truth and at the same time kind and sympathetic with those in error. The nearer we can do these two things, the more like Jesus we will be and the more sinners and sectarians we will save.

From Queries and Answers, ed. by J. W. Shepherd (Cincinnati: F. L. Rowe, 1918), pp. 381-2.

Lament Prayer at Woodmont Family of God 03/04/12

The Woodmont Hills Family of God has suffered some difficult losses in the past months and in this past week the family suffered the loss of one of its youth. Ty Osman, an eighteen year old freshman at Harding University, was killed in a car accident while on Spring Break.

Added to other recent losses–and the ongoing struggles of marriages, economics, parenting and leadership–this moment has created season of grief for the Woodmont Hills Family of God.

On Sunday, Dean Barham spoke from his heart to the church. It was a needed pause in the roller-coaster ride of life for the church. His lesson is posted on the Woodmont site (3/4/12).

Just before he spoke Dean asked me to lead a prayer at the end of his lesson. I have provided that prayer below–it was delivered extemporaneously and without much forethought. It came from the heart.  I have provided here as it was delivered. The audio of this prayer is available at the end of Dean’s podcast.

May God bless; may God have mercy on us all.

God of heaven,

Why do you sometimes seem so far away? Why does it sometimes seem like you don’t listen and you don’t answer? God, why don’t you take your hands out of your pockets and do something?

We feel this, Father. Your saints of old have felt many times as well.

In our hurt we ask you, “How long?” How long must we carry this sorrow in our heart every day? How long, Father? How long before you will bring all the pain to an end? When will you act, God?

Those are our feelings, Father. You know our hearts. You know our hurts. You know our questions and our doubts. They are real to us. We confess them to you. We are grateful that you hear us, that you love us.

For, Father, even with our hurts, our questions,

we still confess that you are the maker of heaven and earth;

we still confess that your Son was born of a virgin, born of a woman, and that he lived, he suffered, and he died;

we still confess, Father, that you raised him from the dead;

and we confess that he is coming again to renew this world, to rid us of the pain and the suffering, to wipe away our tears. Lord, come quickly.

So we are grateful, Father, that you know our pain—that you experience it along with us. And you know all the different sorts of pain that are in this room this morning: the grief over the loss of a young life, the grief of families hurting—suffering economically, suffering with disease, suffering from spiritual dislocation, suffering in their marriages.

God, you know our hurts. And we lay them before you right now. And we speak the truth that it hurts. And we have questions. And, yes, we even have doubts.

But we also confess. For, Father, there is no one else to whom we can turn. Who else can hear our pains? Who else can heal our diseases? Who else can raise the dead? You are God. And we trust you.

Father, in this moment, we ask you to pour your Spirit upon this church, to pour your Spirit upon this leadership, the shepherds and the ministers, the volunteers—all those who involved in serving this community and leading this community. You know, Father, that it is difficult to lead in times of grief.

Give our shepherds strength. Give them a passion for you and passion for their flock. Give them the Spirit that only you can provide, that can shed abroad your love in our hearts. For you are the God of hope and the God of comfort, and we pray that you will pour out your Spirit upon us that we might know your hope, know your comfort.

Dry up our tears, O God. Use your servants in this place to be a comfort for the people.

You do seem so far away sometimes, God. But we confess that you came near and that you know what a cross is. But you also know what victory is. Give us your presence. Give us your peace. And give us the hope of your victory in the world.

In the name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.

Mark 10:1-12 – The Pharisees Test Jesus

Within the narrative of Mark, Jesus now leaves Galilee (Capernaum–the upper purple region on the map) and begins his journey to Jerusalem (10:1, 32). His route takes him into Perea (the lower purple region), the region “beyond the Jordan, on the eastern side of the river.” This is particularly significant since Jesus, though having left Galilee, is still in the jurisdiction of Herod Antipas, the one who beheaded John the Baptist (Mark 6:14-29). John the Baptist was beheaded in Perea. If Jesus had gone to Judea and stayed he would have fallen under the jurisdiction of Pilate and out of the reach of Herod. This geographical note contextualizes the question Jesus is asked.

Apparently in no rush to get to Jerusalem, Jesus stays in Perea for an uncertain amount of time. As in Galilee, so here, his ministry attracts a crowd and he continues his teaching ministry. Some from Perea had earlier travelled to Galilee to hear Jesus (Mark 3:8) which means that Jesus was already known in the region.

Given his geographical location, the Pharisees seized the opportunity to “test” Jesus. The Pharisees and Herodians had a common interest in the demise, even death, of Jesus (Mark 3:6; 12:13). The intent of the question is hostile and was probably an attempt at entrapment. The Pharisees (and probably the Herodians as well) hoped Jesus might say something that would get him into the same trouble that John the Baptist had fallen. The theological question had a political purpose. Divorce was not only a “hot” theological topic debated among the rabbis but its condemnation was also a form of political protest.

Jesus answered their question—“is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”—with a question: “What did Moses command you?” This tactic commits them to an answer before he does. Moses permits divorce, they answer, but only if one provides a certificate of divorce. The Pharisees provided the standard response based on Deuteronomy 24:1-4. But the only command Moses articulated was that man should not remarry the wife he divorced. Deuteronomy 24:1-4 regulates (and thereby permits) divorce but does it in such a way that it protects the woman from ongoing abusive relationships (as would happen if for economic reasons if a woman had to go back to a former husband or, worse, go back and forth between several husbands).

While most think this is the text Jesus had in mind, I think it is more likely that when Jesus asked the question he had in mind Genesis 1-2. The Pharisees answer the question about command with Mosaic permission, but that was not the question. Jesus acknowledges Mosaic permission, “but”—Jesus says—this is not the most pertinent text. The Mosaic imperative, embedded in the Genesis narration of creation, calls husbands and wives to the permanency of their covenant as a mirror image of God’s own life.

Thus, while Moses permitted divorce, God intended union. Jesus draws on Genesis 1:27 and Genesis 2:24. God created two—male and female. The language of “from (apo) the beginning” suggests intentionality and purpose as well as a sense of idealism. Male and female are intentionally diverse but at the same time intended for mutual bonding. The two are to become one; more specifically, “one flesh” which assumes a sexual union. Humanity was created male and female as a bonding mechanism—a mutual attraction to create a oneness that reflects both the diversity and unity of God’s own Triune life.

Jesus concludes (“therefore”) that this union is a permanent one. This is the ideal. No human agenda should disrupt this oneness. God created male and female, and God married or united (“joined together”) them as male and female. This is the divine ideal. It is the intention of creation and it functions as a divine imperative.

As has happened so often in the Gospel of Mark, the disciples inquire further. Jesus’ statement is insufficient or problematic to them. They have questions, and once they are with Jesus privately they ask them.

Privately, Jesus restates the ideal in negative terms. Genesis 1-2 offers a positive model but human brokenness fosters chaos within God’s good creation. While the positive vision of the ideal promotes intimacy and relationship, the negative vision condemns divorce and remarriage. More specifically, Jesus condemns the proactive decision to divorce one and marry another—perhaps even to divorce one in order to marry another. And—uniquely here in Mark among the Gospels—this is true of both men and women.

Whoever divorces their spouse and marries another sins (commits adultery). It is an adulterous act. It adulterates the previous union. Mark states that the adultery is committed against the former spouse (“commits adultery against her”). When anyone divorces and remarries, they sin against the former spouse. In effect, they treat the former spouse as unworthy of union. Adultery is a metaphorical picture of this act of betrayal and disunion. They have adulterated the former union since it cannot be renewed because Deuteronomy 24:1-4 forbids remarriage.

This is where the geographical setting comes into play again. Herodias had divorced her husband Philip in order to marry Herod Antipas—something quite rare for a Jewish woman but not totally unknown. The explicit comment by Jesus—unique to Mark—that even if a woman divorces her husband and marries another she sins is said against the political backdrop of that public scandal which ultimately cost John the Baptist his head. In private Jesus states his disapproval of Herod and Herodias and sides with John the Baptist. Publically, he only offered a positive vision while conceding Moses gave permission for divorce.

While Moses permitted divorce, this was not God’s ideal. Divorce is a divine concession to human frailty, brokenness and weakness. God hates divorce—and so does everyone who has ever experienced one. Yet, though God hates it, God permits it. Jesus does not countermand Moses’ permission.

The divine ideal, however,  is still in play. God yearns for the emotional, spiritual and physical union of husbands and wives that they might experience the joy of intimacy and relationship that mirrors God’s own life. But chaos often reigns; sin often breaks trust; and humans have a tendency to abuse and use each other rather than love each other. God still permits divorce; it is God’s concession—as in the days of Moses, so even now—to the hardness of human hearts and the brokenness of human lives.

Mark has no exception clause as Matthew does (Matthew 19:9). Nor does Mark discuss particular circumstances that might justify divorce as both the Torah (Exodus 21:10-11) and Paul do (1 Corinthians 7:12-15). This is not Mark’s interest. Mark focuses simply on the ideal, the divine intent. Nevertheless, even in stating the ideal, Jesus concedes that divorce is permitted as even Moses legislated. Mark does not deny exceptions or permissions; his purpose is to reinforce the ideal.

Divorce is an ugly reality in human culture. It was pervasive in Jewish and Greco-Roman cultures just as it is in ours. Jesus hates divorce and calls his disciples to embrace the ideal embedded in the creation narratives of Genesis. It is our goal too, though we often fall short.

Lipscomb, Politics and the Sermon on the Mount

This comes from David Lipscomb’s Civil Government (pp. 134-135). Given our political season in this nation, perhaps the words of one our spiritual forefathers have some relevant advice.  He wrote:

“THESE sayings of mine, refer to the sayings presented in this sermon [on the mount] of Jesus, which constitute the laws that must control the lives of his subjects, and must rule in his kingdom. They are given as principles to be practices, without which we are not and cannot be children of our Father which is in heaven. Yet the religious world of to-day both Protestant and Romish, believes these principles not applicable at the present day. The laws and the spirit of civil government are more looked to, to guide the church and regulate the lives of its members, than the teaching of the Bible. Indeed it is usually regarded that the church member may do any thing the civil law allows and what it allows is not to be prohibited in the church. This comes from the members of the church going into the civil governments, imbibing their spirit, adopting their morality and bringing them both into the church of Christ. A man cannot cherish in his heart two spirits, one to rule his religious life, the other to rule his civil life. He cannot adopt two standards of morality, one for his church life, the other for his political life.

“A man cannot serve two masters, he will love the one, and hate the other, or he will cleave to one and despise the other.”

“That the political affairs, and the standard of general morality may be elevated by the affiliation, is possible, but the true spiritual life is destroyed by the affiliation.

“The antagonism between the principles laid down by Christ and those of civil government is so marked that in history, the statement, that they regulate their conduct by the sermon on the Mount, is equal to saying they take no part in civil affairs.

“The only people who claim to make the “sermon upon //135// the Mount” their rule of life, are the small religious bodies, who take no part in civil affairs. Some bodies of Quakers, Mennonites, Nazarenes and Dunkards, and individuals among the larger brotherhoods.

“But who can study the New Testament, the life of Christ, his teaching through his mission, the admonitions of the Holy Spirit speaking through the apostles and for a moment doubt, that Christ specially gave this sermon to regulate the hearts and lives of his followers. He gave it at the beginning of his ministry that all might understand the life, to which they were specifically called.”

Funerals, the Death of Children and the Stone-Campbell Movement

Today I attended the funeral of Ty Osman in Nashville, TN. Ty, a Harding student, was killed in a car accident last week while on Spring Break. The rehersal of his life, his hope and his character was moving, inspirational and hopeful.

As I sat in the lobby I could not see but I could hear. The whole experience was triggering for me. I remembered Joshua’s funeral. I remembered my grief journey over the past 250 months. I remembered Joshua. I felt sad but at the same time hopeful. I can lament and praise at the same time, and usually in that order just like many of the Psalms.

Since coming home I have reflected on the personal history of some of my favorite Stone-Campbell spiritual forebearers.

Alexander Campbell.  On September 4, 1847, Campbell’s ten-year old son–Wickilffe–died in a drowning accident while Alexander was travelling in the British Isles. But this was not his only loss. Of fourteen children, nine had died by 1848–three of them in infancy. Here is most immediate reflection on the death of Wickliffe (Millennial Harbinger [December 1848], 679):

My emotions may be by a few more easily imagined than I could express them. But God’s ways cannot be traced. As it was when he led Israel out of Egypt, so it is still, concerning which teh Psalmist of Israel has said, ‘Thy way was in the sea, and they path in the great waters and thy foosteps were not perceived.” Ps. lxxvii.19….I was never afraid of evil tidings. But in this case he thought good to take to himself the choicest lamb from my flock, and has not revealed to me the reason why. But he is too wise to err, and too kind causelessly to afflict the children of men. May our affections never be unduly placed on any thing on earth; but as those we love both in the flesh and in the Lord are taken to himself, may our affections be more placed on things above and less on things on earth!

James A. Harding.  He outlived five of his nine children as well as his first wife–two of his children died before their first birthday. On August 11, 1906 his youngest living son David, at the age of thirteen, died of some kind of heart damage after playing baseball one afternoon. This death was particularly difficult for Harding since David dreamed of becoming a Bible School president one day, just like his father (Sears, Eyes of Jehovah, pp. 213-214).  The Sunday before his death they had sung “Anywhere with Jesus,” and now Harding thought–agreeing with his wife–that God had “taken him to heaven to teach and train these little ones” (“David Allen Harding,” Christian Leader and the Way 20.34 [21 August 1906], 8-9).  After David’s death, Harding wrote several articles on where the souls of God’s children go in death and whether they are conscious. He concluded that it was “very clear that God’s child, when he leaves the body, goes home to the Lord,” and he then commented, “This is a thought full of sweetness and delight to me” (“Death and Life,” Christian Leader and the Way 22.42 [20 October 1908], 8-9). Despite his sufferings, he still counseled people to pray in this way:

We should pray to God to give us whatever is best for us, wealth or poverty, honor or humiliation, health or sickness, life or death; being sure that whatever he gives to his dutiful child will be a blessing; resting in the faith that for all that we sacrifice or suffer for him we may expect a hundredfold reward, even in this present time.

David Lipscomb. Zellner Lipscomb was born to David and Magret on September 23, 1863 but lived only nine months on June 26, 1864.  His father and mother, living in Nashville, crossed the North/South battle lines to bury him in Maury County (see the story in Robert E. Hooper, Crying in the Wilderness, pp. 83-84).  The Lipscombs never had any other children. David had “hoped to rasie [Zellner] up to work for the Lord,” he once remarked to T. B. Larimore, and now he would “have to work all the harder” (T. B. Larimore, “David Lipscomb,” Christian Standard 54 [22 December 1917], 391). The hurt ran deep and even thirty years later Lipscomb was known to display public grief at the thought of Zellner’s death. Despite this grief and the ravages of a worn-torn Middle Tennessee where Lipscomb lost 2/3 of his possessions, Lipscomb’s trust in God’s providence shaped his understanding of life and death (“Providence–Special and General,” Gospel Advocate 10 [21 January 1869], 49-50):

All the events connected witht our lives are more completely under his guidance and direction, and are more fully controlled and overruled by him than were those of any other people in the world…The failure to recognize God’s hand in the events that befall us, causes us to complain, whine, repine over the misfortunes–as we consider them–of life, and to indulge in bitter, wicked, envious thoughts toward others, and to live in anxiety and dread as to the prsent and the future.

One may not agree with all the language that these spiritual ancestors employ, but one must respect their faith, trust and commitment. They are witness to the endurance and power of faith.

May God have mercy.

Mark 10:13-16 – Receiving the Kingdom of God

This story has some familiar contours. The disciples fail, Jesus rebukes them, and then attempts to transform their thinking. It is like the song, “second verse, same as the first.” This cycle is repeated several times in Mark’s Gospel, particularly in Mark 8-10.

This story functions to center a major theme within the narrative. It falls between the two occasions in Mark when the disciples are arguing about who is the greatest (Mark 9:33-37 and Mark 10:35-45). Both arguments, ironically, follow Jesus’ own prediction of his suffering and death (Mark 9:30-32; 10:32-34). Between these occasions, Jesus advises the disciples on how to receive the kingdom of God.

Of course, the kingdom of God is the fundamental theme of the Gospel of Mark. Jesus has heralded the arrival of the kingdom of God as good news (gospel; Mark 1:14-15). The disciples have anticipated the coming kingdom. Indeed, this is what they argued about—who would be the greatest in the kingdom?

The occasion for this teaching moment is Jesus’ encounter with little children—more “little ones” (cf. Mark 9:33-50). Parents (presumably) were bringing their children to Jesus that he might “touch” them. “Touch” is an important word in Mark. Jesus touched others (like the leper) to heal them (Mark 1:41; 7:33) and others wanted to touch Jesus to be healed (Mark 3:10; 5:27-28, 30-31; 6:56; 8:22). This word is always associated in the Gospel of Mark with healing, just like the laying on of hands which Jesus does as well (Mark 1:31, 41; 5:23; 6:5; 7:32; 8:23, 25; 16:18). It seems likely that parents were bringing their children to Jesus for healing.

Astoundingly, the disciples rebuke the parents. This is a strong action. Jesus rebuked the demons (Mark 1:25; 3:12; 9:25), the chaotic winds (Mark 4:39) and Peter on one occasion (Mark 8:33). But the disciples were in the habit of rebuking as well—they rebuked a blind man (Mark 10:48) and even Jesus himself (Mark 8:32). The disciples were not immune to a strong rebut and, on this occasion, they rebuked the parents who were bringing their children for healing. The text is silent about their reason though we may suppose that Jesus was tired, busy or presumed to be uninterested. We may presume the best motive, that is, protecting Jesus’ rest, or we may think of their potentially worst motive, that is,  they were focused on themselves and their own greatness.

But Jesus’ response is equally strong. Jesus was displeased and indignant. Mark uses the same word to describe how the other disciples felt about James and John’s request to sit at the right and left hand of Jesus in the kingdom (Mark 10:41). Jesus was angry and frustrated with his disciples.

The theology embedded in Jesus’ words to the disciples is significant. The children must have access to Jesus because “the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” The kingdom of God is for the little ones; it is for the broken, marginalized and hurting. Children represent the “little ones” for whom the kingdom of God comes. The disciples should not hinder those for whom the kingdom of God was designed.

A further theological point provides the content of the teaching moment for the disciples. Those who would receive (or enter) the kingdom of God must become like little children. Interpreters differs as to what quality children possess that is a means of receiving the kingdom of God. Innocence is a popular one, but this seems extraneous to the context.

Given the location of this story within Mark’s narrative, it seems better to see the quality as one of social location and powerlessness. Children are not “great;” they are usually last rather than first (cf. Mark 9:35). Children are the most powerless group in society and often treated in ancient cultures as the least. They are the “last” of society rather than the “first.”

If the disciples want to “receive” the kingdom of God—if they want to participate in the kingdom of God—then they must become like little children. They must stand with those who are last; they must become servants. The kingdom of God is not populated with the “greatest” but with servants. They must become one of the least of these.

Jesus received the children just as the kingdom of God does. Jesus embodied the kingdom of God by embracing, touching (healing) and blessing these children. The church must do the same. Children are God’s people too.

The kingdom of God receives children, and the kingdom of God is populated by those who become like them—those who assume the last place rather than the first. The greatest are not those who promote themselves but those who place themselves at the end of the line among the last. In this sense they become like little children.

The Redemption of Creation — Moses Lard (Another Stone-Campbell Ancestor)

What does it mean for the creation to wait with earnest expectation for the revelation of the children of God in which it will be delivered from its own bondage of decay so as to experience the freedom of the redeemed and resurrected children of God?  Romans 8:19-23

Moses Lard (1818-1880), the conservative editor of Lard’s Quarterly and the Apostolic Times, answered this question in his Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Romans (1875). Here is his answer in part (pp. 269-273). The word “creation”

includes so much of all creation as fell under the original curse on account of Adam’s sin. Under that curse the earth certainly fell; for God cursed it directly and in so many words. The earth, then, I conclude, is among the things to be “delivered.” From every disability under which it now lies in consequence of sin it will be freed. Not only so, but it will be “translated” into a state of more than pristine newness and glory. It will undergo a change analogous to that which the bodies of the redeemed are to undergo. It will not become absolutely new; but it will be the old earth renewed; and as the change which the body is to undergo will render it a better body than Adam’s was before the fall,  so, I conclude the earth will be incomparably better than it ever was. As far as it now is inferior to what it was previous to sin, so far, when renewed, will it excel what it then was…..

….If the brute of the filed browsed on the pastures of Eden, and birds of the air sang in its bowers, why not in the new earth? God made them all to be companions of man at the first, and they were “very good;” why not do so again?….

The expression “glorious freedom of the children of God” comprehends not only complete release from “sufferings of this present time,” but also that fullness of honor and bliss with which the redeemed are to be invested. It exhausts the blessedness of the “spiritual body,” of the “everlasting kingdom,” and of the “new earth.” There is nothing which awaits the ransomed at the “coming” of Christ which it does not include.

….God originally intended this earth for man; and he will never be defeated in his purpose. It is still to be his inheritance forever; but it will be remolded and adapted to him, and made worthy of him in his highest exaltation.

That is a beautiful, hopeful picture of what is to come. God’s earth is not a temporary dwelling place but humanity’s inheritance under the reign of God. The meek, Jesus said, will inherit the earth. And so shall it be.

 

Another Conservative Stone-Campbell Voice on New Heavens and New Earth

Frank Gibbs Allen (1836-1887), or usually known as F. G. Allen, was the conservative editor of the Old Path Guide (begun in 1879) which later merged with the Apostolic Times His Old Path Pulpit (available on Google Books) was published a year before his death (Covington, KY: Guide Print and Publishing Company). It was republished by the Gospel Advocate Company in 1940.

Three of the sermons in this book bear on the quesiton of the eternal state in one way or another. The most direct statement on new heavens and new earth is found in his sermon on the “state of the righteous dead.” In that sermon he comments on the eternal state (pp. 289-290).

As to the eternal state, I think the Bible clearly teaches that this earth, regenerated by fire and adapted to our wants, is to be the future home of the saints. While the boundless universe may lie within their range, the earth will be their home. And if such naturalness and life-likeness characterize our abode till that final glorified earthly home is complete, what may we expect of that? It is the perfection, and must surpass in all respects any thing preceding…[quoting Revelation 21:1-4]

At death the saints go to heaven to be with God. After the new earth is ready, God comes down to it to dwell with the saints. That life eternal in the new earth will be just as real as this. God hasten the day when it may be ours. When only the saints will dwell upon it, and sin and pain and death shall be no more. When this frail, suffering, worn-out body will be purified and glorified and made like unot the glorified body of the dear Redeemer. Gloriouos finality! The soul grows wild with the thought. Heaven help us to be patient while we wait.

Zechariah 8:1-17 – God Remembers Jerusalem

In December 518 representatives from Bethel came to Judah and asked the leaders whether they should continue their lament fasts over the fall of Jerusalem (Zechariah 7:1-3). Zechariah responded with four distinct oracles (identified by the phrase the “word of the Lord came to me/Zechariah” in7:4, 8; 8:1, 18).

He first questioned their motives for fasting (7:4-7) and then reminded them why Jerusalem had fallen in the first place with an implicit rebuke that they were not much different (7:8-14). They continue to practice injustice just as their fathers. Nevertheless, the word of the Lord comes to Zechariah again (8:1). Though questioning their present motives and interests, Yahweh assures Judah that God loves them and will return to Zion.

This section of Zechariah is structured as a series of five brief oracles and two longer (practically sermonic) ones. The author structures the message with seven uses of an introductory formula: “this is what Yahweh says.”

• “I am jealous for Zion” (8:2)
• “I will return to Zion” and dwell in Jerusalem (8:3)
• Jerusalem will experience peace and rest again (8:4-5)
• Nothing is too difficult to God though it may seem impossible to others (8:6)
• They will be the people of God and God their God (8:7)
• Judah and Israel will be a “blessing” among the nations (8:9-13)
• God will “do good again to Jerusalem” (8:14-17).

The movement in this series is from

• God’s jealous love
• to God’s intent to dwell in Jerusalem
• to God’s intent to renew rest in Jerusalem
• to God’s ability to accomplish his intent
• to God’s renewal of relationship
• to the renewal of God’s mission for Judah and Israel among the nations
• to God’s determination to “do good” to Jerusalem.

The prophet’s message is a reassuring one. God is still passionate about Zion (temple), Jerusalem, Judah and even Israel. God has not forsaken his first love—his firstborn among the nations. God will return to Zion and “dwell in Jerusalem.” Zion will again become a “holy mountain.” The result is that the elderly will rest and watch the children play in the streets of the city. And while this remnant thinks this incredible, it is not beyond God’s power and love.

Yahweh is jealous for Jerusalem, so Yahweh will act and save his people from the nations by returning them to Jerusalem. In this God renews covenant with Israel—again they will be his people and he will be their God. This is the promise God made to their fathers (Exodus 6:7), he accomplished through the tabernacle (Leviticus 26:11-12), and now God will renew that promise for the returning exiles.

This answers the fundamental question of the postexilic community—does God still love us? Will God return to dwell among us? Does God still have a purpose for us? Do the promises of Abraham still apply to us? And the answer is yes, yes, yes and yes!

This renewed covenant entails that God still intents to fulfill the promise to Abraham through Judah and Israel. The land inheritance remains intact (8:12) and the divine intent to bless all nations through Abraham also remains intact (8:13). Though they have been an “object of cursing” among the nations, they will yet—through the salvation of God—become a blessing. This is the language of Genesis 12:2.

Yahweh is not finished with Judah and Israel; the divine promise is not yet fully realized. Israel will yet become a blessing to all the nations that had cursed it. God will reverse the fortunes of Abraham’s descendents. They will inherit the land and become a blessing. God is faithful to his promises.

Though in the recent past God brought disaster and showed no pity on those who acted unjustly and showed no mercy to their neighbors, now God has “determined to do good” to Jerusalem. “Doing good” is a metaphor for benevolent acts of mercy and blessing. It is also language that echoes the promise to the Patriarchs (cf. Genesis 32:9, 12; Deuteronomy 30:5). God will faithfully accomplish his purpose for Israel in the world; God will keep his promise to Abraham.

Embedded within this reassuring message, however, are several key imperatives or homiletical exhortations. Jerusalem and Judah are called to respond to the message and act upon it.

1. “let your hand be strong so that the temple may be built” (8:9, 13)
2. “Do not be afraid” (8:13, 15)
3. “Speak truth to each other” (8:16)
4. “Render true and sound judgment in your courts” (8:16)
5. “Do not plot evil against your neighbor” (8:17)
6. “Do not love to swear falsely” (8:17).

Essentially, Zechariah says: (1) don’t be afraid—rebuild the temple because God loves you and will return to dwell among you, and (2) don’t be afraid—live before God the way your fathers failed to do.

The ethical imperatives relate to social and economic injustices. The courts were the place where the rich and powerful would steal land and livelihood from the poor. They would swear false oaths and implement their plots to take what was not theirs. The remnant is called to live as their fathers failed to live (Zechariah 7:9-10).

But it is important to notice where the imperatives fall. The indicatives—the declaration of God’s love for Jerusalem and God’s determination to dwell among the remnant—precede the imperatives. Israel does not evoke God’s love by their good works, fasting and mourning. Rather, God elects Israel. God determines to redeem Israel and Israel called to respond in gratitude with a life that mirrors God’s own compassion, mercy and faithfulness.

Ethical imperatives are grounded in divine indicatives. We love because God first loved us. Our hope, faith and love are rooted in God’s acts which empower our ability to hope, trust and love.

Believers—even in Scripture (Psalms 44, 77, 89, for example, as well as Malachi 1:1-4)—sometimes doubt the love of God due to their circumstances. God’s electing, redeeming love assures us that we are not forgotten and that God is faithful to covenanted promises. God’s indicative acts of mercy, love and compassion—the declaration of God’s love in the cross of Jesus is the climatic act—ground our confidence and hope. In response we offer our lives in grateful obedience and seek to mirror God’s life in our own lives.

Thanks be to God!

Mark 10:17-31 – Can the “Rich” Become “Last”?

Mark’s travelogue describes the journey of Jesus from Galilee (9:33) to Perea (10:1) to Jericho (10:46) to Bethany (11:1) and finally to Jerusalem (11:11). But this movement is more than geographical. The theme that runs through this journey to death is servanthood (9:35; 10:44-45) and the call to assume the role of the “last” rather than the first (9:35; 10:31, 44). Jesus, through whom the power of the kingdom of God was revealed, will become like a powerless child. The King will become a servant; the first will become last.

The story of the “rich young ruler” (a composite description derived from Mark, Matthew and Luke) is so familiar that it is difficult to hear it afresh. Its power and punch is often lost in that familiarity.

TWe recover it if we hear the story in the context of Mark’s travelogue. More specifically, the narrative places this rich man-Jesus dialogue between themes of “becoming like a little child” and Jesus’ own suffering servanthood. For the sake of the kingdom of God, Jesus becomes a powerless servant. The first became last. He asks the same of the “rich young ruler.” And there’s the rub— him and for us.

It is apparent that the eager young man did not expect such a radical call to discipleship. He runs to Jesus, falls as a supplicant at his knees and shows him great respect as a prominent rabbi, calling him “good teacher.” His life, at least externally and in his own mind, was a model of obedience. He had kept the Torah from his youth. He hoped for some wisdom from Jesus about eternal life and anticipated that he would follow through on whatever Jesus demanded. But he did not expect to hear what he heard.

Jesus’ interaction with the rich man is not manipulative as if he only wants to prove a point with his disciples. Jesus “loved” him. His invitation to “follow” was neither perfunctory nor shallow. Jesus called him to a life of discipleship.

But something is amiss. Perhaps Jesus recognizes this from the start. When the rich man addressed him as “good,” Jesus reminded him that only God is “good.” This is not so much a rejection of a divine appellation or a rebuke of the phrase “good teacher” as it is a recognition that all goodness derives from God rather than from our own efforts. Goodness is a divine gift.

The pious rich man is little different from the rest of us. We often locate goodness in externals, in the commandments, or in our long-term devotion. We often deceive ourselves into thinking that we measure up to some degree even if we recognize that we may yet lack something (as even the rich man believed and consequently came to Jesus seeking whatever that was). We often become religious addicts feeding on our measurable performances and seeking the approval of others, particularly God’s.

Perhaps the rich man, like us, is seeking approval; perhaps he is seeking to measure up and wanted to make sure he had his bases covered. He, like we often are, is a pious seeker. But he is bitterly disappointed—perhaps shocked is a better translation—by Jesus’ demand.

Like most of us, he did not really know himself. He did not know his first love. He thought it was God but he learned that he really loved his wealth more. He could not embrace the call to radical discipleship. He could not become last after having been first for so long. He could not give away his wealth in order to become a servant to the poor. In the words of the previous text (10:15), he could not receive the kingdom from the position of powerlessness like a little child. He wanted to achieve the kingdom from the status of wealth and power. He could not let go (become like a child) in order to enter the kingdom of God, that is, to join the journey of a disciple which led to Jerusalem.

As in so many other circumstances in Mark, Jesus turns to his disciples and uses this heartbreaking situation as a teaching moment. Entering the kingdom of God is difficult; indeed, it is impossible (which is the point of the camel/needle hyperbole—and Jesus so describes it in 10:27). This is not only true of the rich (10:23) but of everyone (10:24).

People don’t move from first to last. The rich man illustrates this and he is not the only one. The disciples themselves find it difficult, if not impossible, to receive the kingdom as a little child, as one of the powerless.

The disciples are shocked. They have every expectation of entering the kingdom. Moreover, they expected to rule within the kingdom as some of the greatest in it. They expected to be first rather than last. Now they hear that even entering the kingdom is dubious since if the rich—those blessed by God—cannot enter then surely their prospects are limited. “Who can be saved?” they ask.

Entering the kingdom is impossible, Jesus responds, but nothing is impossible for God. From a human standpoint, becoming like a little child is difficult but God can empower this. God can save. God can give entrance to the kingdom. God can empower our servanthood.

Peter, as normal in Mark, cannot remain silent. He finds all this quite disturbing. He has turned his world upside down to follow Jesus and now Jesus tells him that entering the kingdom is impossible. We can hear the frustration in Peter’s words, “We have left everything to follow you.” We did what the rich man would not. We chose radical discipleship. And now we hear that entrance into the kingdom is impossible. One can almost hear the hidden question, “Where’s our profit? What’s in it for us?”

Discipleship does profit, but it is not the kind of profit envisioned by Peter or the rich man. Whatever we leave behind we gain. While we may leave mother or father or wife or children or siblings, we gain a hundredfold in the community of disciples. This is what Jesus did. He left his mother, brothers and sisters but gained a family of disciples, a community of kingdom people (Mark 6:34-35). Loss becomes gain in the kingdom of God both in the present and in eternal life.

However, this profit is no bed of roses. Radical discipleship will invite hostility (persecutions), suspicion, and mockers (Mark 13:9-13). It is a journey to a cross. It is to assume a last position, but the last will become first. The cross will become an empty tomb.

We are all the rich man in this story. We don’t know really know our first loves until tested and we are often shocked to learn that we are not as pious as we thought we were.

We are all Peter. We want to know what profit our discipleship yields. We want tangible results. We fear losing everything for nothing.

And Jesus loves us, calls us and encourages us. “Follow me,” he says. Will we? Dare we?

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part I)

Tolbert Fanning (1810-1874) was probably the most influential leader within the Stone-Campbell Movement in the South prior to the Civil War. As an educator, he founded Franklin College (1845); as an author, he edited the Christian Review (1844-1847), started the Gospel Advocate with William Lipscomb (1855-1861) and then rebirthed the Gospel Advocate with David Lipscomb (1866-1867) after the Civil War; and as an evangelist, he preached widely in Middle Tennessee and elsewhere.

Fanning, shaped by evangelists associated with Stone and mentored by Alexander Campbell in two preaching tours, was David Lipscomb’s mentor. Fanning taught Lipscomb Barton W. Stone’s apocalyptic understanding of the kingdom of God as the reign of God that stands over against all human governments and Alexander Campbell’s positivistic hermeneutic focused on restoring the ancient gospel and the ancient order. Fanning was a unique theological combination of Stone and Campbell and this was the legacy he left to many leaders in Middle Tennessee.

Tennessee was a divided state in the 1860 election. John Bell, the moderate and native son, won the state. The state was generally pro-union as it voted against secession in February 1861 by a 4-1 margin. But this changed when Abraham Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers in response to the attack on Ft.Sumter on April 12, 1861. The state voted for secession in a June referendum with the deciding vote coming in Middle Tennessee as the East was unionist while the West was secessionist. Though Middle Tennessee voted 51% against secession in February, it voted 88% for secession in June.

In this climate, Fanning attempted to persuade his readers to choose peace. Over the next few weeks, I will follow Fanning’s argument throughout 1861. His rhetoric is filled with both apocalyptic as well as positivistic language. In Fanning we see a fervent opposition to violence that is rooted in his kingdom theology as well as an adamant stress on the uniqueness of an undenominational church of Christ within the denominational landscape. The latter view would dominate the twentieth century while the former would recede into the background and ultimately excised from the mainstream consciousness of the Churches of Christ.

More to come….

Tolbert Faning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part II)

Abraham Lincoln was elected President on November 6, 1860. Though the Upper South ( Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia) voted for the moderate John Bell, the Deep South–many of which did not even have Lincoln on the ballot–was solidly anti-Lincoln.  South Carolina seceded first in December 1860 and was quickly followed by Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana and Texas by February 2. Tennesseans, in February 1860, opposed secession.

In the February issue of the Gospel Advocate Tolbert Fanning appealed for peace. His first article on the question in 1861 is entitled “Duty of Christians in Reference to the Political Crisis of 1861″ (7.2 [February 1861] 33-37) which is reproduced below.

Fanning asks for rationality rather than excitement which is consistent with his approach to Christianity itself. One comes to faith through rational argument based on the testimony of the New Testament–faith is not based upon some kind of Emerson transcendentalism; it is based upon “logic and truth.” Fanning had staked out this approach in his controversy with Robert Richardson, that is, the Spirit works through rational argument as one presents the truth found in Scripture.

In the same way, war can be avoided if both sides would argue their case and come to a reasonable conclusion. If slavery is an evil, let it be argued. If the South has, in fact, raised the civility of the Africans, let it be argued. His point is conciliatory as he attempts to appeal to both sides so that they might come to the table for discussion, but he has no interest in settling that dispute in this article. Rather, he pushes the point that the sword is no solution. Controversies should be settled by “moral” and “peaceable means.”

He faults the preachers for the present excitement. They have stirred up the emotions and called for war rather than preaching the gospel of peace. They have abdicated their responsibility as ministers of the gospel.

Rather than sitting on the sidelines, Fanning calls for minister of peace to get involved. This is not about political involvement in the sense of participating in the political machinery, but rather functioning as the conscience of the nation. They should testify about the kingdom of peace, calling Christians to peaceful, quiet lives and making the argument that war would resolve nothing. Christians would win the case since “the world is to be conquered and saved by argument, by love divine.” The present crisis must be “quieted by ministers of God” because “politicians can not accomplish the work.”

Fanning wants ministers to make a public rational argument against war. “The controversy is upon us, and the teachers of religion must meet the issues.” In effect, war would accomplish little except destruction and loss of life.

At bottom, however, Fanning’s witness is that Christians should have nothing to do with the sword or war. The kingdom of God is about peace and its King is the “Prince of peace.” Christians are called to be peacemakers rather than warmonger. No matter what the justness of the cause may be (which he does not argue one way or the other), war is forbidden by the gospel of peace.

He still hopes, it appears, that calmer heads will prevail. He even believes that many (“myriads”) Christians in the North have no interest in the sword. If there is a war to be fought, then let it “be conducted under a King that asks not artillery or infantry, big guns or little ones, in his triumphs, and all will be well.”

*****   Fanning’s Article   *****

From the adoption of the “Federal Constitution” September 17th, 1787 to this date, our country has not been called to pass such an ordeal as the present, and at no period in our history, has there been so great necessity for Christians to adopt a more enlightened and prudent line of policy. We are in the midst of a revolution for weal or for woe, which we dare not ignore, and which demands the serious consideration and prompt exertions of all good men. A storm has been raised by unwise and cruel leaders, which they possess not the ability to control. The intelligent of the people are sound at heart, and they should not lose self-control through the influence of factions, in which exists not the fear of God, or glorious of ship of State, may not only be enabled to breast the raging surges, but be brought once more safely into the port of peace and prosperity.

To be sure, we feel not, that it is our province, at present, to make even suggestions to politicians, or enter into the merits of any political controversy; but the church of Christ has, most innocently become involved, and as a feeble member of this compact, we feel free to speak plainly to our brethren. We deeply regret the necessity, but cannot witness the destruction of the Saints without uttering a warning voice. That our purpose may be appreciated, we state it as a fact that Jesus Christ established a religion which can live and prosper under any form of government,–is addressed to the erring in monarchies, aristocracies and the wildest democracies, and bids them cease from strife and live. A Philippian jailor when dreading the decision of tyranny, cried “What shall I do to be saved,” was told to “believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and he should be secure and his family.” If christianity [sic] was a protection then, why may it not be now? As a basis of all our future conclusions, we wish to remind christians [sic] of the true spiritual character of the church of Christ. Our Lord said, “My kingdom is not of this world; if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now is my kingdom not from hence.” John xviii. 36.

Why is the kingdom not of this world? Because its Author is different from all other kings and his church was built upon principles not like those on which human fabrics are constructed, the subjects are unlike other people, and the operations of his government, differ across the whole heavens from the governments merely human.

The Author of the Christian religion seven hundred and forty years before his birth, was pronounced “The Prince of peace” and it was further said by the Spirit, that “Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end.” Isaiah ix.6-7. At the birth of our Lord, it was proclaimed that, “The day spring from on high that visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death; to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Luke i.78-79. The heavenly host that attended the angel sung, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will towards men.” Of him, it was said, “He shall not strive, nor cry; neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking fire shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory.” Isaiah xliii.2; Mat. xii.19-20. In reference to the preacher of the Gospel, it is written, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace?” Isaiah lii.7. It is also affirmed that, “The Kingdom of God is not meat nor drink, but righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.” The prophet again said, “They shall beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning-hooks; nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” Isaiah ii.4. Where are we to look for the fulfillment of these revelations, but in the church? Were these things spoken in regard to Christ, his kingdom and his people? Has not the world, for eighteen centuries been at peace in exact ratio, of the influence of the Christian religion over men? How has the peace of the world been achieved? By the warlike, beating their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning-hooks. Did the Lord ever head a military company, or aid in the organization of hostile armies. He broke not a reed and extinguished not the smoking flax to make his laws victorious. Did the Apostles go forth with swords and staves to reconcile the erring? Jesus wept over the wicked: when buffeted, he threatened not; when he could have called twelve legions of angels, did he not submit quietly and beautifully to wrong? Did not hosts of his disciples yield to a shameful death, rather than take vengeance in their own hands? They submitted to the judgments of a righteous Father, and took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and cheerfully laid down their lives to establish peace in the earth.

Has christianity [sic] changed? Does the Lord still reign over his people? How then can Christians, north or south, east or west, engage in war, even against their brethren, without a full sacrifice of every principle of the Christian institution? How dare the brethren—the preachers—bring themselves to the fearful conclusion, to plunge their swords into the hearts of their brethren? We enter not into the question of right or wrong, in the present controversy. So far as our present object is concerned, we are not interested either way. Our purpose is to labor to satisfy Christians, that they are not to settle controversies by the sword. The world is to be conquered and saved by argument, by love divine.

Will the saints of God wear the “Blue Cockade,” buckle on their swords, join “Wide-awake clubs” and “Minute-men associations?” We beg them to pause and reflect, before they bring ruin upon the cause of our Master.

We do not deny, that the controversy between the North and South is of an exclusively religious character. Be it so. We as Christians should labor to adjust difficulties by peaceable means. Indeed, we are permitted to employ no weapon but the sword of the Spirit,–the Jerusalem blade. True, extreme men in the North say that holding Africans in slavery “is a damnable sin per se.” What shall we do? Meet the question like men, and Christians. Let us hear their strongest arguments, and if we are committing sins so heinous as to shut us out of the eternal mansion, let us confess and forsake our evil deeds. But if it should appear upon examination, that while we have suffered greatly on account of the slavery that has been entailed upon us by Europe and the North, we have done more in the last eighty years to humanize, civilize, and Christianize the negro race, and enlighten benighted African than all the world besides, has tone to in thousands of years, let the facts be set forth, and let the world see our true position. The controversy is upon us, and the teachers of religion must meet the issues. The storm has been raised mainly by preachers, and it must be quieted by the ministers of God. Mere politicians can not accomplish the work. We must meet the scrupulous on the arena of sound logic and truth, and put them to flight, or yield all that is demanded.

Many engaged in the strife fear not God, and while they are blindly and recklessly plunging us into extremes, it is our duty to say to the troubled waters peace, be still; and to men in their madness, listen to reason and the voice of God. All controversies with the intelligent and sincere may be settled by moral means. Suppose we are forced by our political leaders into desperate and exterminating wars, will they decide the right of parties? If half of our once happy people were slaughtered, would it make the living better friends? Would it establish a better government? Should we have another seven years war, and should our people be slain by the sword, would not our poverty, our deep distress, and our crushing wants, at the end force a truce? The white flag of peace would have to be respected by all, and a permanent peace would have to be secured by treaties, by covenants and by guarantees. Peace measures would have to prevail after the slaughter. Should then, we abandon the cause of the Prince of peace, to settle questions of morality? Questions which must be settled alone by the Bible? Why then employ the fist of wickness [sic]? We profess to be a civilized, enlightened and Christian people. We ought not to Christian men giving their views freely on all questions in their sphere, as Christians, but we enter our most solemn protest against the employment of other than spiritual weapons in the present crisis. “Blessed are the peace makers; for they shall be called the children of God.”

We wish to say in conclusion, that whilst we have clearly seen and deeply deplored, for more than a quarter of a century, the black clouds of death that have been rising under the influence of infidel and higher law teachers such as Theodore Parker, Wendell Philips, Waldo Emerson, Henry Ward Beecher, Orville Dewey, Horace Greely, William H. Seward and others, we now as deeply regret the equally unwise and unchristian course of many of the preachers South. They are attempting to excite the people to meet the fanaticism which is threatening our country, by the sword. Should we be able to exterminate all false teachers, the controversy would not thereby be concluded. There are myriads North sound as to the “The faith once for all delivered to the saints” and ministers of religion owe it to themselves, to their country and their God, to meet error in the spirit of meekness, be it where it may, and to throw light upon the dark waters of strife. Let this war be conducted under a King that asks not artillery or infantry, big guns or little ones, in his triumphs, and all will be well.

Zechariah 8:18-23 – Rejoice, O Israel, God is with You!

For the fourth time the “word of the Lord” comes to Zechariah in response to the question asked by the representatives of Bethel (Zechariah 7:1-3). They had asked whether they should continue their lament fasts. Finally, Zechariah answers their question.

Zechariah, however, did not give them a quick answer. Rather, he took them through their history. The ancestors had acted unjustly and without compassion toward their neighbors—they failed to love their neighbors (7:8-10). As a result their ancestors suffered God’s displeasure as he scattered them among the nations (7:14) where they became objects of cursing (8:13). Nevertheless God loves Zion and will return to the holy mountain (8:2-3). God will renew covenant with Israel (8:8) and they will yet become a blessing to the nations (8:13). The remnant, therefore, is called to act justly and love mercy in response to Yahweh’s great compassion (8:16-17).

Now—in the fourth message—Zechariah answers the original question. He does this with three oracles identified by the phrase “this is what the Lord Almighty says.”

• God has turned their lament fasts into joyful feasts (8:18-19)
• The nations will seek Yahweh and come to Jerusalem (8:20-22)
• Diverse ethnicities will seek Jews to usher them into God’s presence (8:23)

The first oracle answers the original question. Fasting is now over; the fasts which remembered the year of horror–which included the siege of Jerusalem to the breaching of the walls to the destruction of the temple to the assassination of Gedaliah–are complete. God has turned their fasting into feasting; their mourning into dancing. The word Zechariah uses for festival is the same as Leviticus 23 which describes the great feast days of Israel. Such feasting had ceased with the destruction of the Jerusalem (Lamentations 1:4) but has now returned with the rebuilding of the temple. God’s temple presence calls for rejoicing rather than lamentation. Israel now feasts and no longer fasts.

This move from lament fasts to joyous festivals, however, entails covenant responsibility. Israel is called to “love truth and peace.” This is probably a succinct way of restating the previous imperatives of Zechariah 8:16-17 as well as Zechariah 7:9-10. Truth and peace, in this context, primarily refer to social justice.

The second oracle enlarges the earlier word of the Lord in Zechariah 2:10-11. As there, so here, the joy of Jerusalem is not restricted to Israel alone. This rejoicing will envelop the nations as well. Peoples, cities and powerful nations will seek the Lord in Jerusalem. Israel, as a blessing to all the nations, will receive the nations; many peoples (ethnicities) will seek the Lord. This vision is not only rooted in the Abrahamic promise but is also present in earlier prophets such as Isaiah (2:2-4; 49:22-23), Micah (4:1-5) and Jeremiah (4:1-2).

The third oracle is climatic–it is the pinnacle of Zechariah 7-8 and perhaps for the whole first half of the book. “Ten men from all languages and nations,” the Lord declares, “will take firm hold of one Jew.” The number ten probably represents completeness, that is, every nation and language from all over the earth will seek the Lord. We might hear in this a reversal of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11) or even anticipation of Pentecost (Acts 2), but even more the eschatological hope of peoples and nations from every language gathered around the throne of God in the New Jerusalem (Revelation 7, 21-22).

Nations will attach themselves to Israel, or as Paul puts it, nations will be grafted into Israel (Romans 11). They will seek this attachment because they recognize and confess that “God is with you.” This is theologically pregnant language.

“God is with you” is the language of the Patriarchical narratives as God was with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph (Genesis 21:22; 25:28; 30:27).

“God is with you” is the language of God’s dwelling with Israel in the wilderness tabernacle and then in the Jerusalem temple.

“God is with you” is the language of the incarnation as Immanuel (Matthew 1:23) comes to dwell in the flesh.

“God is with you” is the language of divine presence in the body of Christ, the church as the Holy Spirit dwells within the temple of God (1 Corinthians 3:16,17).

“God is with you” is eschatological language—it is the language that “Now, the dwelling of God is with humanity” (Revelation 20:3) in the New Jerusalem upon the New Earth.

This is the hope of humanity; it is the blessing of Israel among the nations. The nations will share the inheritance of Israel as God dwells among all nations and peoples. Through Israel, all the nations of the earth will be blessed with God’s presence.

Indeed, God is with us. Praise to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part III)

After the Confederacy’s seizure of Ft. Sumter in Charleston harbor and Lincoln’s call for 75,000 volunteers in April 1861, Tennessee–scheduled to vote on secession in early June–will be the last state to join the Confederacy.

That same month Tolbert Fanning penned a brief but poignant plea for peace by appealing to the role of kingdom people amidst the wars between nation-states and human strife. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said. Pursuing peace is what kingdom people do even when the cultural tide has turned against them.

Fanning calls Christians to prayer, persuasion and peaceful action as subjects of the kingdom of God. He is not, of course, successful.

On June 8, 1861, only 12% in Middle Tennessee voted against secession. Tennessee voted for secession 105,000 to 47,000 (Nashville itself voted 3,033 to 249).

Below is Fanning’s brief article in the June 1861  issue of the Gospel Advocate entitled “The Peace Maker” (pp. 177-178).

The Savior on the Mount said, “Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God,” and we gravely ask the saints if “the kingdom of God is righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit,” why we may not contribute to quieting the waters of strife in these once happy but now scattered and torn States? The denominations generally are in arms against each other, also some disciples and from them we have nothing to hope, if we are really representatives of the government of the Prince of Peace, may we not attempt to convince the rulers of this nation that right cannot be settled by the arbitrement* of the sword. War merely about an idea, indicates not even a high degree of civilization, and we ask is there no hope of satisfying the movers of the waters, that they are wrong and their conduct will certainly call down the just retribution of God. Let the whole church call upon the Father of mercies, to pity the follies of his creatures, and let every Christian exert his influence to convince others that it is the duty of all to beat their swords into plowshares and their speers [sic] into pruning hooks. If Christ’s government were understood, nation would not lift up the sword against nation, neither would they study war any more.”

Brethren, let us attempt by some united effort to convince our countrymen that the influence of Messiah’s government will put an end to all their strife.

*Middle English term for arbitration.

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part IV)

On June 8, 1861, Tennesseans voted for secession. On July 2 the state joined the Confederacy and, consequently, entered the war against the Union.

Tolbert Fanning floods the July issue of the Gospel Advocate with three rather lengthy articles on war, peace and “world powers.” The first, “The Kingdom of God Triumphant Over the Kingdoms of the World” [7.7 (July 1861) 193-198], is reproduced below.

After quoting biblical texts from Deuteronomy to Isaiah to Revelation, Fanning summarizes his agenda in five points which I have paraphrased in the following manner:

1. God is sovereign over the nations even to the point of overturning their self-interested acts to God’s divine purposes.

2. God reigns over the saints through the rule of King Jesus who is tasked with the mission to subdue the nations.

3. The kingdom of God, which consists of righteousness, joy and peace,  rules through non-violence.

4. The kingdom of God stands opposed to “world powers” or “principalities” and will ultimately triumph over them.

5. The kingdom of God will triumph through non-violent means as citizens of the kingdom of God, though obedient to human institutions as far as possible, refuse to form alliances with human kingdoms and thus leaven the earth with peace and righteousness.

********Fanning’s article********

From some cause, which should be understood, Christians generally fail to place the reign of the Messiah in its true light before the world. Hence, the almost universal devotion to the institutions of men, and the very small amount of attention to the government of the Most High. We gravely ask, if Heaven has not decreed that the reign of his Son shall be supreme over the whole earth? Do not the times suggest the necessity of the servants of God, carefully examining the claims of the King of kings and Lord of all lords? The kingdoms of the world give demonstrable evidence of frailties and inherent imperfections which threaten their overthrow; and if their [sic] is an institution in existence, which promises permanency, it would seem becoming in Christian men, to present its claims to a discontented, belligerent and almost hopeless generation. The monarchies of the old world, however strongly fortified by armies, are all in commotion, and even our boasted America democracy has recently given woful [sic] evidences that it has finished its destiny, and is almost ready to be numbered with things that were. We already hear the low murmur among the ranks of society, “The last experiment in free government is failing to accomplish what was anticipated.” Even high officials, who boasted a few years ago of the inherent ability of man to construct a perfect government, both civil and religious, are now fleeing from their long adored idol, “this glorious Union,” and are crying alas, alas, our temple is wrecked and our highest hopes are vanishing into thin air. What does all this mean? Is there no stable government on earth? It has long been clear our mind that, the church of Christ is transcendantly [sic] superior to all human institutions, and that it is destined to break them all down and prevail over the whole earth. With the hope of placing the matter in its proper light, we appeal to the word of God as the only authorized test of truth.

What do the prophets teach regarding the kingdom and reign of the Messiah? Jehovah said one thousand four hundred and forty-one years before Christ, “I will raise them up a prophet from among their brethren like unto thee, (Moses) and I will put my words into his mouth, and he shall speak unto them all that I shall command him. And it shall come to pass that whosoever will not hearken unto my words which he shall speak in my name, I will require of him.” (Deu. 18, 18, 19.)

It will be remembered that Moses was the mediator to the Jews, but another prophet was to arise as a mediator between God and all who become subjects of the new administration. Our Heavenly Father said by his servant David, “yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of Zion—I will declare the decree, the Lord hath said unto me, thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. Ask of me and I will give thee the heathen for thine inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth fer [sic] they possession. Thou shalt dash them to pieces as potters [sic] vessel.” (Psalms 2, 7-9.) In this prediction there is positive evidence the King crowned was to possess the Gentiles, and rule the nations; and a blessing was pronounced upon all who would put their trust in him.

In Isaiah it is said, “Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders; and his name shall be called wonderful, counselor, the Mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order and establish it with judgment and justice from henceforth even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” (Isaiah 9, 6, 7.)

“And in the days of these kings the God of heaven shall set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed, and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and shall stand forever.” (Dan. 2, 41.)

“And the kingdom and dominion and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heavens shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom and all dominions shall serve and obey him.” (Dan. 7, 26.)

The prophet Isaiah also said, “The earth shall be full of the righteousness of the Lord, as the waters cover the deep.” (Isaiah 11, 9.)

This was a kingdom to be established by the Son of God.

John the immerser preached, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand,” and the Messiah exhorted his disciples to pray, “They kingdom come.” Again he said, “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevails against it.”

Jesus Christ and his disciples all preached that this kingdom was at hand, till the day of Pentecost, and no writer in the New Testament after this memorable day ever intimated that a kingdom was to be set up. In Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, we hear of an approaching kingdom, and in the 2d chapter of the Acts of the Apostles and last verse, we read, for the first time of persons being added to the church. Solomon’s temple, which prefigured the spiritual edifice by Christ, went up without the sound of a hammer or an iron instrument. The materials were all prepared by measure; and John, Jesus, and his twelve and seventy disciples were actively engaged for some three years in preparing materials for the heavenly building, and no marvel that I should also have been acknowledged on Pentecost by the filling and overshadowing of the Holy Spirit. Afterwards, as intimated, the writers of the Holy Scriptures, spoke of the church as a reality. Paul said to the faithful Hebrews, “But ye are come to Mount Zion, unto the city of the Living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first born who are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the New Covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel. * * * Wherefore, we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God, acceptably with reverence and godly fear.” Hebrews 12, 22-28.

The beloved John, of course, was the last inspired writer who dwelt upon the triumphs of the kingdom of the Savior. When the seventh angel sounded his trumpet, John said: “There were great voices in heaven saying, the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever. (Rev. 11, 15.) Again he said, “I saw one called Faithful and True, on a white horse; and in righteousness he doth judge and make war; and the armies which are in heaven followed him upon white horses clothed in white linen, fine and clean, and out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword that with it he should smite the nations, and he shall rule them with a rod of iron, and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. * * * And the remnant were slain with the sword of him that sat upon the horse, which sword proceeded out his mouth, and all the fowls were filled with their flesh.” Rev. 19, 11-21.

Having settled the question as to the authority of these Scriptures, we feel fully authorized to state the following conclusions, viz:

1st. God, our Father, is sovereign over all the world. The nations are in his hands, he has the inalienable right to their homage, and he rules in the kingdoms of men, overturning their unwise designs to his honor and often to the good of his erring creation.

2d. God has given the government of his saints into the hands of his Son Jesus Christ. He crowned him Lord of heaven and earth, when he ascended on high, placed the scepter in his hand, and bade him subdue the nations of the earth. Since the coronation of the Savior, no one has had the right to approach the Father, pray to him, or ask protection from him, but in the name of the Son. Hence, he that rejects Jesus of Nazareth, rejects God, and is indeed considered the enemy of the Father. The Scriptures already recited evidently show that not only was the King crowned on his ascension to heaven from Mount Olivet, but not many days after the newly appointed mediator and Lord of heaven and earth sent the Holy Spirit to guide the Apostles into all truth, and enable them to perfect the new administration. The laws were finished, the members of the body fitly placed together by joints and bands and the whole machinery of the body perfected in the first century. Consequently we look for no new Gospel, new developments of truth, or a new kingdom in the latter days. The body of Christ is perfect, the laws afford all things that pertain to life and godliness, and a new King is not needed.

3d. The kingdom of Christ is a kingdom of “righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” The Savior came upon a mission of love and mercy to a rebellious world, and he employed no violence to render triumphant his laws. The success of his reign over pagan Rome and idolatrous world in the early ages of the church is marvelous in our eyes beyond expression. Philosophers, and the great of earth, looked in mute amazement at the greatness of his achievements, by so simple means, and yet the nations have not yielded to his peaceful scepter.

4th. The prophecies indicate most clearly that the Lord’s spiritual empire was to be in conflict, in the language of Hengstenburg [sic],* with “the world power,” or as Paul expresses it, “principalities,” but his cause was to triumph. His kingdom was to break into pieces, consume and crush from the earth the governments of the world. But we are told “it has not yet triumphed.” True, and the end has not yet come. Notwithstanding Christianity was driven from its birthplace-Palestine,–and many sections of Europe, it still lives on both continents,–in all the four corners of the globe,–and so soon as men shall complete their folly in originating and defending their frail institutions of earth, they will gladly admit the sovereignty of the Redeemer.

Daniel says, “The kingdom and dominion under the whole heavens, shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey him.” John tells us that he heard “great voices in heaven, saying, the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.” Or correctly translated, “The kingdom of the world is our Lords and his Christs.” The government of the world has yet to be placed upon the shoulders of the Savior. This cannot be accomplished without the destruction of the institutions framed by men; still there is nothing which seems more pointed in the word of God, and Christians should not be discouraged at appearances. God works in ways of which we are ignorant, but if we can believe he threw down the walls of Jericho, by a shout of his people, nothing should be regarded as impossible for him.

5th. What means shall be employed for the accomplishment of this grand end?

As early as the fourth century, whenever Christianity become [sic] popular, it was connected with the governments of the world, and corrupted. The nominal professors of this religion of peace, thought the civil power was necessary for its protection, and, hence the sword was employed first by Rome, next by the East, then by England, and since by most of the world, to render victorious an institution that cannot safely form even an alliance with “the powers that be.” But while the nations of the earth are determined to propagate religion at the cannons mouth, “the dispersed” among the nations, “the strangers and pilgrims” ask the aid of no armies or navies to give the ascendency to the cause of the Lord, but confidently look for its final triumph without “the breaking of a bruised reed, or the quenching of the smoking flax.”

Although the Spirit saw proper to employ the military style of the times, the sword with which the King was to triumph over his enemies, though sharp and strong, proceeded out of the mouth of him who sat on the white horse, and his victories were all to be in righteousness. It may be well in this connection to indicate the true position of Christians with reference to the governments of this world. The Christian institution was the first spiritual empire revealed to man, and it will be the last. It was superior to the kingdoms of men; could not from its nature be merged into them, or, as we before stated, form alliances with them. It came not as the friend or enemy of any form of government, could live in a monarchy, aristocracy or democracy, was independent of all, and yet was destined to swallow them all up. This, it seems, was to be accomplished by leavening the earth, and bringing all the powers of the world into subordination. The subjects of this kingdom, so far as we are informed, in the early ages took no part in the creation or administration of worldly powers. They paid their taxes as loyal citizens of every government, in which their labor called them, “respected magistrates, and prayed for kings and all in authority,” that they might lead quiet and peaceable lives in all godliness and honesty. The apostles and early Christians took no office from man, and interposed not in the least with the government of the world, unless so oppressed that they could not without open rebellion honor their king. Then they refused not to adhere to their own leader, and for this species of rebellion many lost their lives.

We have seen few, if any Christian men, who gave themselves to the governments of the world, that have not been swallowed up of them, and hence we conclude that our calling is above all earthly callings, and our time, talents, and energies should be given to the Lord. We should pay our taxes, respect governments, not oppressive, wherever we may dwell, and if possible be at peace with all men. Still our grand purpose should be, to promote the spiritual empire of the King of Zion. The instructions on this subject are found in the New Testament.

*******

*Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg, The Revelation of St. John (T & T Clark, 1851), refers to the “world-power” 79 times.

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in1861 (Part V)

Though the overwhelming sentiment of western and middle Tennessee favored the decision of the state government to join the Confederacy and enter the war against the Union on July 2, 1861, Fanning pleads for Christians to stand apart in three lengthy and significant articles in the July issue of the Gospel Advocate.

His theology for peace is rooted in several fundamental theological convictions. First, he believes Christians are a separate, distinct and “peculiar” people. They are resident aliens–”pilgrims and strangers”–in the world. They must not align themselves with any institutions or nation-states that participate in the bloody conflicts of the age since the people of God have only one allegiance.

A second theological conviction is that the kingdom of God is a kingdom of peace which refuses to use the implements of war on the earth. Such wars are of the earth; they are worldly and belong to the world powers. Jesus came to end bloody conflicts and his followers do not participate in them. He went to a cross rather than to the head of a military parade.

Fanning’s view is succinctly summarized in this brief statement near the end of the article reproduced below: 

 ”It occurs to us that the church of Christ is composed of faithful and true men, who bear his cross at all times, and resort not to violence. If we are correct, bloody wars are not Christian, but are of the world, and are worldly. Are indeed the result of wickedness, are waged by wicked men, for wicked purposes, and have not the sanction of God or good men.”

Tolbert Fanning, “Wars of Heaven and Earth,” Gospel Advocate 7 (July 1861) 199-205

“If ‘tis distance lends enchantment to the view,”* we may add, that distant danger has but little terror to men. Even relentless and bloody war, in a foreign clime, conducted by those in whose success we feel but little interest, possess not the power to stir the heart, but when it rages in our own beloved land—comes to our very doors and threatens all of earth we most value, the bravest are disposed to shrink back, and ask its intent. But fearful are the aspects of war when citizens of the same soil, brothers in religion, and brothers in the flesh, lift the sword against each other. The present distressing affairs in our once happy, but now rent and bleeding country, suggest to the thinking the propriety of taking counsel together, with reference to the best means of averting the terrible disasters that threaten the land. Having at an early age deliberately formed our judgment as to war,** and especially amongst an enlightened and Christian people, and to this hour having seen no reason to change our decision, we consider it entirely in keeping with our mission, to offer a few candid thoughts regarding its origin, history and tendencies. We feel more especially interested from the fact, that either we have not studied the Bible to profit, or many sincere brethren whose feelings are quite different from our own have failed to see the beauties of the Christian edifice. We have no advice to give, but it shall be our purpose, if possible, to present the subject of war as represented in the Holy Oracles, and leave all to act upon their convictions.

Whence comes wars into our world?

In answering this question, it would seem requisite, in the first place, to define the term war. After looking over the dictionaries, and critical works, we find nothing entirely satisfactory. Tobesure [sic], Webster says, “War is a contest between Nations or States, carried on by force.” But, if we are not mistaken, this definition accords not fully with the meaning in scripture. Webster had in mind national contests alone, but James asks the question, “From whence come wars and fightings among you?” indicating most clearly that wars and fightings, right or wrong, may exist in a church, in a family or between two individuals. The Apostle adds, “Ye kill, ye fight and war.” Hence we define war as a struggle between individuals, families, churches or nations, with intent to kill and destroy. Of course the purpose of war will vary with the causes that produces [sic] it. Dueling may be regarded as the highest style of war. The combatents [sic] are considered as honorable gentlemen, and their sole purpose is merely to seek each others [sic] life in vindication of honor. National wars are generally preditroy [sic]. Each party generally considers it proper to waste and take all the property of the others, and both strive to do each other the greatest amount of damage. Wars are called aggressive, when one people assail another, and defensive when the object is to repel invasion. It is also called offensive or defensive. But it is remarkable that while most men freely engage in war, either from a general conviction that, there is something wrong in it, or men are insincere, we seldom, if ever, hear of a party avowedly making aggressive or offensive war.

The mere mechanical act of a man’s killing another is neither right nor wrong in itself. It may be done by accident,–or an officer of the law may be required to take away a fellow creatures life. Hence the crime of murder depends neither upon the fact or mode of taking life, but solely upon the state of mind possessed at the time the deed is done. In law, the point is not whether one party killed another, but did he commit the deed, “with malice and forethought.” If then the guilt or innocence of a party depends upon the animus, may we not conclude that one is guilty who merely intends injury? “He that looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already in his heart.”—Jesus.

This leads us to approach a little nearer to the answer of our question. Possibly, it has been from the fact, that crime universally arises from the intention that, no war originates in heaven, around the throne of the omnipotent. According to the philosophy, poetry and modern theology, of which we have knowledge, war began in heaven, amongst the highest angels. It is said, indeed, that Satan was the tallest son of the Omnipotent,–was next to the Father, aspired to the supremacy, and through ambition enaugurated [sic] a war which, hurled him from heaven. John Milton, in his Paradise lost, said:

“His pride
Had cast him (Satan) out of Heaven, with all his host
Of rebel angels; by whose aid aspiring
To set himself in glory above his peers,
He trusted to have equaled the Most High
If he opposed; and with ambitious aim
Against the throne and monarchy of God
Raise impious war in Heaven, and battle proved
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty proved
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.”

Pollok says,

“That silence which all being held,
When God’s Almighty Son, from off the walls
Of heaven the rebel angels threw, accursed,
So still, that all creation heard their fall
Distinctly, in the lake of burning fire.”

These two quotations constitute the escence [sic] of modern theology regarding the first rebellion, the origin of war, the first battle in heaven, the sentence upon the fallen angels, and Jehovah’s triumph.

Perhaps we may be asked if this is not the doctrine of the Bible? The churches preach it as true, and it is very generally believed. Let us examine briefly the scriptures.

John says, “And there was war in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels. Neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the dragon was cast our, that old serpent called the Devil and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world; he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.” Rev. xii, 7-9.

He said again, “And the dragon was wroth with the women, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed.” Rev. xii, 17. “He saw a beast rise up out of the sea, and it was given unto him to make war with the saints and to overcome them.” Rev. xii, 7. John said, a “beast that ascendeth out of the bottomless pit, maketh war against them and shall overcome them and kill them.” Rev. xi, 7. Daniel saw a “Horn make war with the saints and prevail against them.” Dan. vii, 21. Yet he adds, “Judgment was given to the saints of the Most High, and the time come that the saints possessed the kingdom.” This was the identical battle which John saw in heaven between Michael and his hosts, and the devil and his party.

Peter speaks, not of war in heaven but of God casting the angels down to hell and delivering them into chains of darkness. 2 Peter ii, 4.

Jude tells us, that “The angles which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto the judgment of the great day.” Verse 6

But what are the ligitmate [sic] conclusions to be drawn from these scriptures, if Milton, Pollok, and poetical teachers of religion do not justice to the word of God?

The bare admission that there has been, or ever will be disturbance, strife and war in heaven proper, dethrones the Almighty and destroys all hope of a pure clime. We may be asked, “If Satan did not fall from heaven?” The Savior speaking of the power taken from him said, “I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.” But this was a fall which occurred in the days of the Lord’s personal ministry.

If we could believe in so desperate a war around the throne of the Eternal as described by these fancy teachers, we could have no desire to attain such an abode. What has occurred might occur again. God’s people seek rest—a peaceful habitation.

The heaven in which this great battle was fought, to say the least, was on this earth. Jesus collected his elect, at the destruction of Jerusalem, “from the uttermost part of heaven.” Mark xii, 27. This was possibly the land of the Jews, as the Gentles were called, in contrast, the earth. “Oh earth,” said the prophet, “hear the word of the Lord.” Christians are said to “sit together in heavenly places, in Christ,” Eph. i, 3, and when John said, “Rejoice over her thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets, for God hath avenged you on her,” he evidently had the church is his mind. Reve. xviii, 20.

We then conclude, that all the wars in heaven with the dragon, the beast; the false prophet—Micahel and the saints were, and will be, in the church. The world power has been assailing the authority of the King of heaven for eighteen hundred years, but the saints will triumph over the beast, and see Satans [sic] empire crumble to pieces. But we are told still, it is war. Tobesure [sic] it is; but the weapons of the Lord’s people are not carnal. John gave a beautiful picture of the war in heaven. “Michael and his angels fought, and the dragon and his angels, and prevailed not. And the dragon was cast out, and his angels into the earth”—that is, driven from all right even to profess the pure religion of the Bible, or occupy a place with Christians. John adds, “And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation and strength and the kingdom of our God and the power (authority) of his Christ, for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accuseth them before God day and night. And they overcome him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of his testimony, and they loved not their lives unto the death.” Rev. xii, 7-11. This war is still raging, and is in reference to the authority of Christ and his church. The conflict is between the true and false friends of Christ. The saints will overcome, and it is fondly believed, the date of the triumph in this war is not distant. So much for war in heaven. The angels of whom Peter and Jude spoke, were messengers who left their “first estate,” perhaps turned politicians, or speculatists in some direction and the Lord cast them down from heaven, and they will remain in chains till the judgment.

So far it has been a bloodless conflict, so far as Christians have been concerned; but the conflict between genuine and false Christians has been presented in military and so highly symbolic language, that many have imagined that God and all the hosts of heaven have been or are engaged in deadly conflict. Far be it from truth that Milton, Pollok, and speculative divines have well nigh subverted the light of revelation for the idlest dreams ever penned.

Still war exists and may exist forever, and we would know its origin and meaning.

We have satisfied ourself that all the wars of which we have knowledge, are of earth and are earthy. As to the idea of one next to the Supreme Being apostatizing through ambition, and creating war in heaven and earth, we have endeavored to show is highly preposterous. Still we have no theory in regard to the devil—his origin or history. We are taught in the word of God that there is a devil “going about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour,” and so far as we have learned to the contrary, he was the devil from the beginning, and from his constitution he may be a devil to all eternity. Jesus said of the opposing Jews, “Ye are of your father, the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do: he was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him.” John viii, 44. It seems from this passage that the devil was a destroyer from the beginning, and yet was the father of men led by passion. The apostle James is still more explicit. In answering the question, “From whence wars and fightings,” he said, “Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members. Ye lust and have not; ye kill and desire to have and ye cannot obtain; ye fight and war.” The idea of James seems to be that men while following passion, are the children of the devil, and hence he exhorts the brethren in the same chapter, to “submit themselves to God.” “Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.” James iv, 1-8.

The doctrine of the Savior, of James, and of all the authors of the Bible, seems to be, that in our very constitution we are subject to two opposing influences. One is called the flesh, and the other the spirit. Some have called these opposing influences the two sides of human nature, one good, the other evil. Speculate on the matter as we please, the fact stares us in the face, that individuals or nations, led by their own impulses, feelings, passions, are always wrong, are but children of the wicked one; whilst those who renounce themselves, and follow heavenly instruction, are holy, harmless, peaceful—the children of God. While following the spirit, we are not in strife, in church or state, but are brethren,–at peace, walking by the faith of one who is invisible, and are always ready to declare that we are “strangers and pilgrims,” have no permanent habitation on earth, but are seeking a city in the skies. A failure to look on high, is a declaration of war against God and all good men. Whosoever is not for the Savior is against him. There is a no neutral ground. All are in the army of the faithful, or of the wicked one.

What then is the origin of war? It arises always from passion—from the love of power, and ambition to domineer over others. Such is the history of all war. When one people suppose themselves stronger, wiser, or richer than another, they are apt to be anxious to rule, and hence strifes and wars arise. Life is but a warfare, a conflict, and hence Paul at the close of his journey said, “I have fought the good fight and kept the faith.”

It will be perceived from the tenor of our remarks, that whether the struggles is in our own heart, between individuals, in churches, states or nations, the weapons are not always identical. Violence and wrong prevail on one side, while on the other, there is merely a resistance of evil.

But the plain and unvarnished question is, has war ever been right? It has been most unquestionably necessary. When the five nations of Canaan become too wicked for endurance, the Almighty ordained his own people Israel to execute his purpose in exterminating them, and when in time the Jews become corrupt God brought “a nation from afar, a nation of fierce countenance,’ a Roman army under Titus Vespasion [sic], against them, and overthrew them. This has been the course of things from the beginning, and may always be the course. We would in conclusion submit a few very respectful inquiries in reference to the bearings of war.

The, Lextalionis,–law of nations—the doctrine of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” preached over all the world till the Savior came and established a new order of things, destined in time to prevail over the whole earth. The prophet saw a little stone cut out of the mountain without hands, that increased till it become a great mountain, and filled the whole earth. Dan. ii. 34, 35.

The Messiah assumed to be a king of a new order, to reach his throne not by wading through the blood of others, but by freely shedding his own blood. He employed no offensive or defensive weapons, but was proclaimed the Prince of Peace.

Was it not his purpose to put an end to war,–to bloodshed and carnage, and has he not been successful in proportion to the progress of his religion in the world? After he told Peter to “put up” his sword, no violence has been employed by him. Jesus cannot take cognizance of them without, till they enlist under his peaceful banner. If, then, the Son of God established a “kingdom of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit,” and if his subjects were not anciently men of blood, on what authority can they now act differently from his servants of old? It occurs to us that the church of Christ is composed of faithful and true men, who bear his cross at all times, and resort not to violence. If we are correct, bloody wars are not Christian, but are of the world, and are worldly. Are indeed the result of wickedness, are waged by wicked men, for wicked purposes, and have not the sanction of God or good men.

Our conclusion of the whole matter is, that the wars of heaven, are moral conflicts between the church of Christ and the opposing world powers; and the wars of earth are struggles in the world without by men of the world, inaugurated by wicked men for wicked purposes, but which God may overrule for good. The history of the world sustains us in these conclusions, but the church of Christ is composed of “a peculiar people,” separate from others, are not of the world, engage not in its bloody conflicts, and yet the Lord has promised to sustain them to the end.

We have said nothing of the present civil, unnatural, ungodly, cruel, barbarous, unnecessary, meaningless, fruitless and disgraceful American war. It will settle neither the right nor wrong of any question, and though innocent blood has been, and may be liberally shed, better counsels will prevail, and its inhuman originators must ere long bow to a moral force that is struggling to be heard and must sooner or later triumph. God grant that the day may not be far distant. If genuine Christians but buckle on “the whole armor of God,” the hosts of false religionists that originated the conflict, and are leading their countrymen to the slaughter, may soon have cause to lament their treachery to Heaven, and the cause and people of the Most High, may attain the position to which they are entitled. Our confident trust is, that Heaven will vindicate the right, and put to shame and confusion the enemies of our peace.

*From “Pleasures of Hope” (1799) by Scottish poet Thomas Campbell (1777-1844).

**Fanning had earlier written on war and peace in opposition to the Mexican-American War.

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part VI)

Below is the last of three articles Fanning wrote for the July 1861 Gospel Advocate where he attempts to persuade his audience (which extends from Virginia to Alabama to Texas) to resist the temptation to enter the fray between the Confederacy and the Union.  Christians, according to Fanning, must not participate in war “against their brethren and others” (“May Not Christians Engage in War Against Their Brethren or Others?” 7.7 [July 1861] 217-219).

Fanning lays much of the problem at the feet of preachers who use their position to promote violence rather than following the Prince of Peace. He is concerned that congregations are divided, brethren are killing each other, and some editors are calling for force rather than dialogue. Who is following Jesus, he asks?

In this article, Fanning clearly articulates his apocalyptic understanding that Christians are citizens of a different nation (the kingdom of God), and they have no role in constructing or remodeling any nation-state. They pay their taxes and respect the form of government under which they find themselves (whether monarchical or democratic or whatever), but they do not fight for it or against it except as kingdom people proclaim righteousness and peace as residents within any nation-state.

God may use the present crisis, Fanning surmises, as a test of Christian loyalty. Which “king” will believers follow? He writes in conclusion,

It may be that God intends to prove his people, and have a registry made of all who are worthy. The war may be the occasion for the test.

The righteous, he says, cannot shed the blood of their brothers or others.

****“May Not Christians Engage in War Against Their Brethren or Others?” Gospel Advocate 7.7 (July 1861) 217-219?****

We have received many enquirtes [sic] in reference to the duty and propriety of Christians voluntarily or otherwise engaging in war; but in our present issue, we are disposed to merely call attention to the position of parties, and add a few thoughts in regard to the character of the kingdom of the Savior.

We have not only been struck with the very hearty manner in which religious denominations of both sections of the country are engaging in the recently enaugurated [sic] war, but it must surprise the thoughtful to witness the conscientious zeal manifested by each in the frightful struggle. Both parties claim the sanction of Heaven, and very earnestly call upon God for help. Both cannot be right.

This is not the worst feature. Preachers and editors are leaders in the strife. We have thought, indeed, that we have heard not of more blood-thirsty exhibitions than have been manifested by preachers to excite the people to deeds of blood. The problem may be of difficult solution to men of the world, who have remained indifferent as to the authority of religion. Members of the same church are in deadly array against each other, all thinking they will render service to god in slaying their brethren, and in some instances their blood relatives. Not only are religionists foremost in the excitement, but are also in the very first ranks of the respective armies. A month ago, we had supposed that editors and preachers among the disciples were not disposed to imbrue their hands in each others blood, but we were mistaken. We notice in some of our exchanges, as The Christian Record for instance, by E. Goodwin, of Indiana,* the exhortation to put down opposition “peaceably if we can, forceably [sic] if we must.” What can, and must be the state of mind in such as write in this manner? Are these blood thirsty men followers of Jesus of Nazareth? Can any one be fully under two antagonistic systems at the same time? Regarding the Christian institution, however, some very honestly entertain the following position, viz: Jesus Christ is the Prince of Peace, that in order to make his reign triumphant, a bruised reed was not to be disturbed or the smoking flax quenched, that from the moment the Master told Peter to put up his sword, no offensive or defensive weapons, save the sword of the spirit, have ever been authorized for the use of his people. Such men also, generally, conclude that the kingdom of God is superior to the kingdoms and governments of the world—may possibly exist in any of them, or independently of them; and that the subjects of the spiritual kingdom should take no part in constructing or remodling [sic] the institutions of men. Still they are to pay their taxes, and be subject to every ordinance of man, whilst they are permitted to lead quiet, and peaceable lives in all godliness and honesty. They also hold, that it is their right, if they find any civil government oppressive, to remove to another more favorable to their purposes, and in a word, they believe that Christians should take no part in the governments of the world, either to create them, fight for, or against them, or contribute in the least to their dissolution, unless it should be accomplished by the superior light of the truth, shining upon them. But quite religious men object to this view. Some of the grounds of their objection are the following:

1. They argue that, as Christians are lights in the world, they should have a controlling influence in the governments of men. This is answered by suggesting that possibly, the light of good men may be more successfully shed abroad, by keeping in their own sphere—the church,–in exerting all their influence through it, and that in attempting to control civil governments, they frequently become corrupt and lose all their power as Christians.

2. It is argued that, we cannot obey the powers that be, unless we shoulder our guns and fight for their defence [sic]. The answer of some is, that when the powers of the world require of the saints a course derogatory to the christian religion, it is not improper for them to say, “Whether it be right in the right [sic] of God to obey you, rather than God, judge ye.”

3. It is said unless Christians fight for their homes and families, they should not have the protection of the civil government.

It is answered that when the struggle is between two forms of government, or the administration of the same form by two contending parties, Christians may destroy themselves by interfering. We feel that it is proper in this connection to state our owo [sic] conviction touching the use of our property. It is evident, we accumulate and hold our property under the protection of civil government, and the civil authorities have the right at all times, to appropriate it, as they think best. We are to lay up enduring treasures in heaven.

But we did not introduce the subject of Christians taking the sword, for the purpose of at least for the present of arguing all the questions involved but mainly to call attention to the difficult points. We have looked at the matter calmly, and think we understand it, but we may be mistaken, and we are willing to hear the arguments of any, and of all, on both sides.

We have long been impressed with the belief that Christians should and must exert all their influence for good, through the church, and we are satisfied the time has come for trying our fealty to Christ. It may be the crisis will expose the utter worthlessness of most of the religions of our unhappy country, and enable believers to stand forth in their true colors. It may be that God intends to prove his people, and have a registry made of all who are worthy. The war may be the occasion for the test.

We may have more to say upon these matters as opportunity may offer, and yet we feel not a liberty to close without stating, that whilst all we have is subject to the call of our country, Christians and preachers particularly can perhaps accomplish the greatest amount of good, by employing none but spiritual weapons. If it should appear upon proper examination, that “the wicked are the sword of the Lord,” and that the righteous cannot shed the blood of their fellows with impunity, the sooner the brethren understand the truth the better. Peace must be secured by moral means alone. What influence are Christians exerting for the accomplishment of this earnestly desired end?

*Elijah Goodwin (1807-1881), of Indianapolis, IN, edited The Christian Record (which began in 1843) in 1861 and after the war merged it with the Christian Standard in 1866.

Tolbert Fanning–Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part VII)

With Tennessee now a Confederate state and at war with the Union, Fanning published an article entitled “Taking up the Cross,” in the August issue of the Gospel Advocate 7.8 (1861), 244-245.

What did it mean to “take up the cross” in August 1861 for Tennesseans, Confederates or Unionists?

On the one hand, it meant abandoning all unnecessary provocations. Disciples seek peace and do not stir the pot of war. But, on the other hand, it meant affirming allegiance to the kingdom of God rather than to any “worldly power,” principality, or nation-state. Disciples, according to Fanning, could neither swear allegiance to the Confederacy nor to the Union though they would submit to whichever governed them. Ultimately Fanning did submit to both but he never swore allegiance to either.

The cross which Disciples bore in 1861 was to choose peace, nonviolence and disavow allegiance to any national state. Fanning called them to resist peer and public pressure for war. They must reject the siren call for war and follow their Christ to the cross. They must follow no banner or flag but the one belonging to King Jesus.

Taking up the cross is a willingness to die to self and follow Jesus to the cross rather than save one’s life by bowing to the pressure of the national state.  He writes:

Till Constantine, the simple avowal that Jesus as the Savior, placed all who ventured to make it, as enemies of the State, and consequently the taking of the cross, was not only treason, but christians renounced all confidence in earthly institutions, and looked for their reward in another state.

***Fanning’s Article***

In the early ages of the church, whoever ventured to make an open profession of faith in Christ, was certain to lose the respect of the world,–his property was subject to confiscation and his life was in perpetual danger. Hence, the taking up the cross, was performed after the maturest deliberation, and with all the startling dangers staring one fully in the face. The professor of the faith renounced “principalities,” abandoned all confidence in men as safe governors, took no interest in the world’s affairs, farther than to make proper efforts to secure the necessaries of life, but vowed allegiance to the King in Zion as superior to all other rulers. Christians walked with their lives in their hands for three centuries. Even the propraeter [sic] Pliny the younger, after having many of the Lord’s servants put to death, merely for professing the name of Jesus, wrote to Trajan the emperor stating “that as far as he had learned, they did nothing wicked or contrary to law, except that they rose with the morning sun and sang a hymn to Christ as to a god.” Till Constantine, the simple avowal that Jesus as the Savior, placed all who ventured to make it, as enemies of the State, and consequently the taking of the cross, was not only treason, but christians renounced all confidence in earthly institutions, and looked for their reward in another state. Still, Christianity was then healthful, pure, and invigorating and the children of God rejoiced that “they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of Jesus. It is scarcely possible at this great distance from these hale and joyful days of the people of the Most High, to fully realize the meaning of denying ourselves, taking up the cross of the Savior and following him through evil as well as good report.

When the civil authorities in three hundred and twenty five, took charge of the church, “the offence of the cross ceased,” the pure in heart and life, withdrew from the public gaze, went into the wilderness, still keeping their banner unfurled to the breeze.—but have been ever since regarded as the offscouring of all things. There is no cross in religions regulated, and acknowledged by “world powers,” and the honor of bearing the cross can be appreciated by no one, who considers not the authority of his King as the supreme government. We freely grant that, men through ignorance and stubbornness, may seek opposition, in order to glory in their persecutions; but genuine christians study to be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves—they unnecessarily offend neither Jew nor Greek, but labor at all times to glorify God in their bodies and spirits which are his.” There is a continual tendency to lay down the cross in order to be “like other people” and unless we keep our eye upon the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, and struggle hard against the outward pressure, on minds and affections will become so engrossed by the “cares of the world” as to induce us to lose all taste for matters spiritual.

In conclusion, we would be glad to know if there is any cross bearing by the denominations and professors that act merely in conformity with the popular influences of the age? What party in all the land has any cross to bear? Who, all the region about are now meekly bearing the cross of the crucified, yet exalted Savior?

Mark 10:32-45 — True Greatness

Leaving Perea and nearing Jericho, Jesus led the way towards Jerusalem. This is a determined, focused step in Mark’s description; Jesus is headed to Jerusalem. The disciples are alarmed (amazed) and others accompanying them are afraid. Apparently, they were astonished and concerned that Jesus was headed to Jerusalem where his enemies were numerous and powerful. Perhaps they feared the worst or they anticipated opposition to Jesus’ reign.

Jesus, as they are “going up to Jerusalem,” reminds the Twelve what this means. The Son of Man will be betrayed, condemned, flogged, humiliated and executed though raised three days later. There must have been an ominous foreboding among the disciples but their focus is not so much on these future horrendous events as much as it is on their role in the coming reign of the Messiah. They anticipate “glory.”

Mark 8-10 is peppered with both the ineptitude of the disciples (particularly as they debated who was the greatest and this misapprehensions about the nature of the kingdom) and the insistence by Jesus that whoever would be great must become a self-denying servant of all—one who lives at the bottom of the totem pole. Now, as they move toward Jerusalem, Jesus reminds them again that he himself will take on that role as he becomes last by suffering humiliation and death.

But some disciples have other things on their minds. Just as the rich young ruler had addressed Jesus as “teacher” with a question, so the brothers James and John address Jesus as “teacher” with a question. They come as supplicants, just as the rich young ruler. Perhaps presuming on their intimate friendship with Jesus as part of his inner circle (e.g., Peter, James and John), they request to sit at the right and left hand of Jesus in his “glory.” Whatever Jesus is talking about concerning his death, they believe that glory is coming–they saw it at the Transfiguration (Mark 9:2-9). Perhaps they thought their close relationship with Jesus meant a greater role than other disciples in the coming kingdom. In other words, when the kingdom fully arrives, they request the highest honors in the kingdom other than sitting on the throne itself. They want to reign with Christ as regents who wield delegated royal power above all others. They request hierarchical power in the coming kingdom.

But they do not understand what they are asking for. Jesus uses two metaphors to describe the process of becoming “great” in the kingdom of God. He asks them, “Can you drink the cup?” and “Can you be baptized?” Both metaphors point to suffering. Jesus, having just told them about his future in Jerusalem, asks if they are willing to suffer as he will suffer. Are they willing to undergo a baptism of fire and to drink the bitter cup of suffering? Can they take on the role of Israel’s suffering servant?

James and John are, they say; and they both will, says Jesus. James, as we know from Acts 12, will suffer an early martyrdom. John, as we know from Revelation 1 (assuming it is the same John), will suffer exile under Roman persecution. They will both know suffering and death as disciples of Jesus. Those who follow Jesus will suffer.

But to give “greatness” in the sense of rank and power is not Jesus’ prerogative; it is not even the point. Those positions—whatever they are—are the decision of the Father. Jesus cannot grant their request though he assures them that they will suffer as he will suffer.

Their request, of course, angers the other disciples. They have had this discussion before and probably on many occasions; they have argued about who is the greatest. Despite Jesus’ focused teaching about greatness and his exemplary life, the disciples still hunger for rank, power and status in the coming kingdom.

Again Jesus attempts to modify their conceptions of “greatness.” While the disciples think of “greatness” along the lines of Gentile kings and high officials who exercise power through status and rank, this is not the nature of the kingdom of God. Within the kingdom of God a different sort of “power-ranking” exists. It is not rooted in the exercise of authority or power but rather in service. Greatness is defined by servanthood rather than power.

Jesus did not come to exercise power and reign as Gentile leaders do. The Son of Man—that eschatological figure who will reclaim the earth for God—did not come to be served as if others bowed down to his higher rank and served his every need. Instead, he came to serve and provide for the needs of others. He came to die as a “ransom for many. The mission of Jesus is to serve, and through this service he would become “great.”

James and John, as other disciples, would become “great” as well, but not through the exercise of authority and power but through their own suffering for the sake of the kingdom.

The kingdom does call us to “greatness” through popularity, fame or success. The kingdom calls us to “greatness” through self-sacrifice, self-denial and service to others. The one who would be first must become last, and the one who would be great must become the servant of all (Mark 9:35).

This is a difficult lesson for disciples to learn. It was difficult for James and John as well as the others. It is difficult for us. It reverses fallen human culture; it reverses the American Dream where greatness is about success, wealth and power. But greatness is not found in awards, honors and pulpits. Rather, it is found in self-denial, suffering and sacrificial service. Greatness is not defined by who many people hear a lesson from a particular pulpit; it is defined by those who visit the prisons, sick and marginalized.  It will not be found on the stages of the Academy or Grammies where the “first” of society honor themselves. It will be found in service among the last.

May God have mercy on us.

Zechariah 9:1-17 – The King Cometh

The first half of Zechariah concluded with the climactic announcement that the nations will recognize that “God is with” Judah (Zechariah 8:23). Zechariah 1-8, with the eight visions (Zechariah 1:7-6:15) that promise the rebuilding of the temple and the four messages that announce God’s transformation of their fasts into feasts (Zechariah 7-8), assures Judah that God will return to Israel.

The second half of Zechariah envisions the suffering yet triumphant King whose territory will encompass the whole earth and redeem not only Israel but the nations as well (Zechariah 9-14). This message is structurally divided into two oracles marked off by the phrase “An Oracle. The word of the Lord is…” (Zechariah 9:1; 12:1; also Malachi 1:1 as the only other place where the Hebrew term “oracle” occurs). Both messages carry similar themes: subjugation and then salvation of the nations by the divine warrior (9:1-8; 14:16-21), the coming and the suffering/rejection of the King (9:9-17; 11:4-17; 13:7-9), and the eventual victory of Israel over their enemies (10:3-11:3; 12:1-9; 14:1-15) The two messages serve as corresponding halves—some even placing them in a chiastic structure—that announce the divine reversal of the shepherd King who would be at first rejected but then reign, a reign over the nations as well as Israel.

Unlike the first half of Zechariah which is dated from 520-516 B.C.E., no date is attached to these final two oracles. Over the past two centuries scholars have variously dated them—some in the pre-exilic period (particularly in the 19th century) but most now in the post-exilic period (perhaps as late as the third or fourth centuries B.C.E.). Many have suggested that Zechariah 9-14 is an independent prophetic work (or even two works) that was attached to Zechariah at some point in its literary history. Whatever may be the case, it is appropriate to read Zechariah 9-14 as a further elaboration of themes in Zechariah 1-8 articulated during the Persian period (perhaps even in Zechariah’s latter ministry). Yet, the Persian period does not exhaust the meaning of these oracles. Rather, as we will see, they are eschatological oracles, that is, visions of the final victory of God’s reign over the earth.

Zechariah 9:1-10:1 announces the coming of the King who will subdue the nations and free Judah. The text sandwiches the arrival of the King (9:9-10) between two poetic descriptions of its significance—one applying to the nations (9:1-8) and the other to Judah (9:11-17).

The first section envisions a time when Judah will occupy the regions of Syria, Tyre and Philistia. There are descriptions of the borders of Israel’s inheritance that include these territories (cf. Numbers 13:21-24; Joshua 1:3-4; 1 Kings 4:21, 24). All “the tribes of Israel” will one day see the lands of their one-time enemies included in their kingdom. The Divine warrior king will defeat these nations but those who are left in the land will belong to God and become leaders in Judah. The Philistines, Zechariah says, will become like the Jebusites. In other words, just as the Jebusites—the inhabitants of Jerusalem before David arrived—were a conquered people they nevertheless became part of the clans of Judah, so the Philistines are included in Judah’s eschatological inheritance. The subjugation of the nations whereby their opposition to the kingdom of God is defeated will also become the occasion of their purification (9:7 refers to idolatrous practices) and inclusion.

The third section (I will discuss the central, and thus emphatic, section below) is a salvation oracle for Judah. Yahweh promises to free the prisoners—those of Judah and Ephraim—yet exiled. Yahweh will restore their inheritance; indeed, he will double it! This is enabled by a divine holy war against “Javan” (rendered Greece in the NIV). A reference to Greece is appropriate to the early Persian period when the Persians still sought to conquer it (especially 490-480 B.C.E.) but it is probably an allusion to the Table of Nations in Genesis 10:4. This echo identifies Israel’s inheritance as threatened by the nations and God therefore removes the threats by decisive action. But there is no description of the battle. The divine theophany is sufficient to ensure the result.

Yahweh marches in victory, destroy the enemies of Judah, and delights in his people. Yahweh who brings the storm clouds also brings the rain that refreshes the earth and grows the crops. Judah—with its borders fully realized—will enjoy the protection of their Shepherd, Yahweh. Crops and wine will bring renewal and rejoicing to Israel once again.

The center piece of this three-fold picture is the coming of the King who is not only King of Israel but King of the whole earth (Zechariah 9:9-10). Though described as the King of Zion, his reign extends to the “ends of the earth.” But the picture of this King is not that of a divine warrior even though Yahweh has been so described in this oracle. Rather, this King is gentle and rids the nations of war implements as he proclaims peace to the nations.

The appearance of the King on a donkey is not simply a sign of humility but rather the signature of his royal claim. Israel’s kings rode donkeys (2 Samuel 16:2; 1 Kings 1:33-34, 38) and this probably reflects their identification with the poor and lowly within the nation. The donkey, then, is both a sign of royalty and humility.

It is important to the context, however, that he does not ride a war-horse even though they were prominent in Zechariah’s visions. He rides a donkey; he comes in peace to make peace. He comes as a lowly, humble figure who brings the salvation of Yahweh. He comes to end war, even to the point that bows are broken and horse-drawn chariots are removed (cf. Isaiah 9:6-7; 2:2-4; Micah 4:1-5). This King proclaims “peace to the nations” rather than war among them.

His reign will fill the earth. Whatever the specific referent might be in terms of “sea to sea” or “the River to the ends of the earth,” these phrases are metaphors for a universal reign. Yes, he will reign over the new borders of Israel, but more than that he will reign over the whole earth and bring peace to the nations.

Zechariah’s description of the King is applied to Jesus in Matthew 21:5. When Jesus triumphantly enters Jerusalem on a donkey, Matthew sees the coming of the King. He comes humbly and peacefully. He seeks peace rather than a sword, even refusing to use the sword in his defense (Matthew 26:52). The people hail him but ultimately reject Jesus and the shepherd of God’s people is struck down (Zechariah 13:7; Matthew 26:31). He comes in peace but is met with violence.

The eschatological vision of Zechariah, however, does not end with a slain King but a victorious one—and this is the gospel story itself. The gospel does not end with a slain lamb but a resurrected one.

The eschatological vision of Zechariah announces peace among the nations but not before the nations assault the King. But peace will come, even to the ends of the earth. We still wait for that global peace.

Mark 11:1-11 – The Coming of the King

As Jesus enters Jerusalem, we enter the last week of Jesus’ life—the passion week. The Triumphal entry on Palm Sunday leads to a cross on Good Friday which is reversed by resurrection on Easter Sunday. Mark 11-16, practically one-third of the Gospel, is devoted to the last week of Jesus’ life.

The messianic entourage approached Jerusalem on the road from Jericho near the towns on Bethany and Bethphage which were located on the eastern side of the Mount of Olives. They were now only about two miles from Jerusalem. In a short time they will top the Mount and see the temple facing east in their direction. This is a momentous occasion—the Messiah comes to the temple (Mark 11:11).

Jesus, conscious of the Messianic overtones of this moment, instructs his disciples to secure a “colt” (a young animal) for his use. Jesus will ride a donkey into Jerusalem. Mark tells the story in such a way that Zechariah 9:9-10 lies in the background. Jesus will enter Jerusalem on a donkey as the city rejoices over his coming which is what Zechariah announced long ago—the king comes on a donkey as Zion rejoices. In Israel, the donkey—rather than a great steed or a war-horse—was used in royal coronations in order to identity the king with the people as a mark of humility (1 Kings 1:33). Jesus casts himself in this role as his journey now becomes a royal procession into the city.

The narrative’s focus on the colt seems, at first glance, incidental but Mark highlights a couple of particulars. First, the colt belongs to the Lord. Translations rarely render Mark’s wording as “His Lord (ho kurios autou) has a need,” that is, the colt’s true owner is Jesus though he will return it when he is finished. Second, the fact that the colt is tied up identifies this circumstance with the Judah oracle in Genesis 49:10-11 (as Lane has noted in his commentary). The ruler from Judah will tether his colt/donkey to a vine/branch. With these allusions Mark unites two messianic texts(Genesis and Zechariah) from the Hebrew Bible and thereby emphasizes the Messianic nature of this triumphal entry.

The narrator has brought us to this exciting moment. The announcement of the kingdom has dominated the first half of the Gospel (Mark 1:16-8:26) and the second half of the Gospel has identified Jesus as the Messianic king of the kingdom (Mark 8:27 to this point). The King has come to claim his kingdom; he has come to Jerusalem, to Zion. The king enters the city. He receives a royal reception though we know mistreatment and violence lies in his future.

The significance of this moment is not lost on those who lined the highway into Jerusalem. They lay their cloaks over the road as others have done for kings in the past (cf. Jehu in 2 Kings 9:13).. Others spread leafed branches (palm branches, presumably from Jericho, in John 12:13) across the road which mimics the triumphal entry of the Hasmonean Simon in 1 Maccabees 13:51.

More significantly, they praise God with the language of Psalm 118:25-26. Psalm 118 is the last of the Passover Hallel (Psalm 113-118). The Psalm saturated the atmosphere of Messianic hopes that pervaded Passover celebrations. It is the thanksgiving of a king who comes to Jerusalem to celebrate God’s salvation and at the end of the Psalm the people respond with a prayer and a blessing:

O Lord, save us.
O Lord, grant us success.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
From the house of the Lord we bless you.

Jesus hears this language when he enters Jerusalem:

Hosanna
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!
Hosanna in the highest

They pray “save us” (“Hosanna”) and recognize in the coming of Jesus into Jerusalem the coming of the kingdom of David. Here the Gospel climatically and publicly announces the identity of Jesus and the reality of the coming kingdom. The third line in the Markan praise (“Blessed is the coming of the kingdom of our father David”) is added to Psalm 118 and serves to make Mark’s point. This is his interpretation of the triumphal entry. The kingdom of God has come to Jerusalem in the person of Jesus.

As Malachi (3:2) anticipated long ago, the Lord will come to his temple. Jesus enters Jerusalem which is to also enter the temple court through the south-eastern gate. Curiously, Jesus looks around—he “sees everything”—and then returns to Bethany. Presumably, Jesus and his company had traveled in a single day up the Jericho road to Jerusalem which is a distance of less than twenty miles. Since they entered late in the date, they quickly returned to their lodgings two miles away.

What a day! The Son of David entered Jerusalem on a royal donkey. He was acknowledged and blessed by the people as they praised God. The king has come. The kingdom of God has come.

The message of Mark is “repent and believe the good news because the kingdom of God is near” (Mark 1:15). Jesus has come to Jerusalem to enact the good news of the kingdom of God.

The King has come to bring peace not only to Israel but to the nations.  Zechariah 9:9-10 is quite explicit that the King who comes to Jerusalem will reign over all the earth (“to the ends of the earth”) and his reign will mean peace among the nations. War-horses and chariots are no longer needed; implements of war are not excluded from the kingdom of God. This King is the Prince of Peace.

Will Jerusalem receive him in peace? Ultimately, it will not.  Will we? Will we practice peace as followers of the Prince of Peace?

Mark 10:46-52 – Kingdom Enacted, Mercy for the Last

Leaving Perea, crossing the Jordan and passing through Jericho, Jesus heals the blind man Bartimaeus. This is no mere human interest story in the Gospel of Mark. On the contrary, it enacts and anticipates the kingdom of God.

Just prior to Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Messiah Mark’s narrative told the story of another blind man’s healing (8:22-26). The healing of Bartimaeus bookends Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem and testifies to not only the reality of the coming kingdom but also its nature. The healing of the blind is part of the promise of the kingdom (see Isaiah 29:18-19; 35:5-6), and in the light of the emphasis of Mark 8-10, it also announces that the kingdom belongs to the last and marginalized which was the lot of the blind in first century Palestine. The kingdom of God belongs to the last, to the children, to the blind.

Kingdom expectation is high among this group travelling with Jesus to Jerusalem. James and John requested a place in the kingdom. The disciples are arguing about greatness in the kingdom. Jesus is headed to the seat of Davidic rule, the city where David and his descendants reigned for centuries. The Passover is near and consequently Messianic hopes are high. When Jesus enters Jerusalem he is greeted with the acclamation, “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!” (Mark 11:10). Even Bartimaeus shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us!” He gives Jesus a Messianic title.

Jesus is viewed as “Son of David,” as Messiah. He is recognized as one who comes in the name of the Lord and as a descendant of David. He walks through Jericho as the acclaimed heir of David’s throne. He is royalty.

He is royalty, and his royal entourage protects him. As the blind man—one of the “last” of society—cried out for mercy, “many” told him to shut up. This was no mere quieting but a rebuke. This is the word that Jesus used to rebuke demons (Mark 1:25; 9:25), waves (Mark 4:35) and Peter (Mark 8:33). Just as the disciples rebuked parents who brought their children to Jesus (Mark 10:13), so “many” (including the disciples?) rebuked this blind man whose sole request was for “mercy.” The royal entourage does not understand the kingdom of God.

The kingdom of God is mercy for the last. Jesus stopped. He was not passing through Jericho to conduct a healing crusade, but he heard the cry for mercy and, no doubt, heard those who rebuked him. Such treatment cannot be allowed to stand in the name of the kingdom of God. Jesus, therefore, enacts the kingdom of God in this situation.

Jesus calls him, the blind beggar comes, Jesus heals, and the new disciple follows. Calling the blind…the blind come…Jesus heals the blind…and the healed follow Jesus is the story of the kingdom of God. Jesus, as the embodiment of the kingdom of God, reverses the brokenness of the world and brings mercy to the marginalized, to the last.

Jesus asks the blind beggar, “What do you want me to do for you?” It is a service question; a ministry question. “How can I help you?” “What can I do for you?” “What do you need?” It is the question we should be asking others.

His answer seems an obvious one but it is grounded in faith. The Messiah would heal the lame and give sight to the blind. He has confessed him as the “Son of David;” he has heard something about the Messianic mission of Jesus. He believes and therefore he speaks. He believes and therefore he asks. So should we.

And Jesus compassionately extends mercy. Through faith the blind man sees again. The kingdom of God is enacted! The encounter between this man and Jesus announces the kingdom of God. It is healing for the blind and mercy for the last.

The story is an invitation to believe the good news of the kingdom of God. But it is also a reminder that the kingdom of God belongs to the last.

Who are we in this story? We are the blind beggar before God. We are often the disciples who rebuke the last instead of showing mercy. We are called to become Jesus in this story, to be Jesus.

Those who have ears to hear, let them hear.

Mark 11:12-26 — The King Comes in Judgment

King Jesus, riding on a donkey, triumphantly entered Jerusalem hailed as the one who would usher in the kingdom of David. Surrounded by an expectant crowd, he entered the temple, looked at everything, and went home for the evening.

What did Jesus see? The next morning, Monday of Passion Week, Jesus tells us. The King who came to make peace (Zechariah 9:9-10), the Prince of Peace, went to the temple on Monday in judgment. Apparently, he did not like what he seen the previous day.

The enacted parable of the fig tree bookends the central judgment event. Jesus curses the fig tree on Monday (Mark 11:12-14) and the fig tree is dead at the roots by the next morning (Mark 11:20-21). Sandwiched between the fig tree stories, and thus interpreted by them, is the prophetic act of cleansing the temple. Whatever Jesus is doing in cleansing the temple is symbolized by the fig tree. The temple cleansing and the cursing of the fig tree share the same theme: judgment.

As Malachi anticipated (3:1-5), when the Lord comes to his temple, he will come to purify and refine through judgment. Malachi envisions a moment when God will judge immorality and economic injustice as well as those who deprive the alien of justice. God shows up at the temple in judgment rather than grace (cf. Psalm 50 for a similar theme). Jesus sees something in the temple that turns his first kingdom act in the temple—his first teaching moment—into a moment of judgment.

But first the fig tree. Prophets often used symbols and concrete actions to announce their message. Jeremiah uses a linen belt (13) and a clay jar (19). Ezekiel lay on his side for 390 days (4:1-5) and packed his possessions as if going to exile (12:1-8). Isaiah walked about naked (20). Jesus follows in the steps of earlier prophets by using the fig tree and enacted parable (and he will do the same in cleansing the temple).

Among the prophets, the fig tree was a popular symbol of Israel (cf. Jeremiah 24; Hosea 9:10; Joel 1:7). The image of the fig, either barren tree or tasking badly, was emblematic of Israel’s own barrenness or covenant-breaking (cf. Jeremiah 8:13; 29:17). In particular, Micah 7:1-7 compares the violence and injustice of Israel to the lack of figs on a tree. Further, to curse a fig tree is sometimes a symbol of God’s judgment upon Israel (cf. Hosea 2:12; Isaiah 34:4). When Jesus curses the fig tree so that it withers and dies, this is symbolic of his judgment upon Israel and particularly the temple authorities.

As Jesus approached the fig tree outside of Jerusalem he saw signs of potential food. A leafed tree might portend fruit of some kind but it was too early for figs which do not appear until the summer months. Since Jesus came to Jerusalem for the Passover, he would have approached this fig tree most in March-April which is too early for figs. Consequently, his curse might seem unreasonable. However, in the spring the buds of the tree were also edible (cf. Gundry, Mark, p. 636). The narrative did not say he was looking for figs but rather for “anything” (literally translated rather than “any fruit”) that might satisfy his hunger. Nevertheless, Jesus did not even find what anyone might expect to find in March-April.

Jesus comes to the temple to enjoy a pious, devout people dedicated to justice, peace and the worship of God just as he expected to find food on the fig tree. Yet what he finds is a temple as barren as the fig tree and deserving of as much judgment as the barren fig tree.

What did Jesus see in the temple? He saw “buying and selling,” which included the exchange of money (exchanging currency for shekels, the currency of the temple) and selling animals (including two doves for offerings by the poor) in the Court of the Gentiles. This merchandizing—or the conduct of exploitive business—was inappropriate for the temple courts. Jesus, by a prophetic sign-act, embodies God’s judgment by overturning tables and driving out the merchandisers.

Mark justifies this prophetic act of judgment through the lens of two texts in the Hebrew prophets. The first, Isaiah 65:7, reminds Israel that the purpose of the temple is prayer, including the invitation to all nations for pray. The Court of the Gentiles, where the merchandizing was taking place, diverted the purpose of the court from prayer to exploitive money exchanges or economic injustice.

The second, Jeremiah 7:11, accuses the temple authorities of treating the temple like a “den of robbers.” There may be a double meaning here. The temple had become a place for thieves because they defraud and steal from their fellows which is one the emphases of Jeremiah’s own temple sermon. In addition, temple, as Jeremiah noted, had become a place where injustice hides—like a den where robbers hide from judgment. The temple cannot, so it was thought, come under judgment and therefore people are safe in the temple. But they were wrong; the temple will come under judgment as Jesus will make clear in the Olivet discourse (Mark 13).

The temple authorities understand the implications of the symbolic act and its interpretation through the prophetic texts. They recognize it as a political act that judges their authority and power. The kingdom of God—and Jesus acted as king as well as prophet in this moment—judges all other authorities. They feared the loss of power through Jesus’ popularity and thus decided he must die so that their status might be preserved. Whereas earlier Herodians and Pharisees conspired to kill Jesus in Galilee (Mark 3:6), now the temple authorities intend to do the same. Ultimately they will gather a different kind of crowd than the one on Palm Sunday which cried “Hosanna.” On Good Friday, they will incite a mob to scream, “Crucify him!”

Whatever the disciples may have thought about all this, they were surprised to see the dead fig tree the next day. Jesus’ saying about “faith” is a response to Peter’s observation that the fig tree had withered. In other words, “Have faith in God!” is one of the lessons of the withered fig tree. Faith can move mountains; faith bears fruit. With faith, fig trees are no longer barren.

Disciples believe, pray and forgive. Jerusalem, with its magnificent temple, would fall under the weight of divine judgment, just like the fig tree. Disciples will find deliverance through faith, prayer and forgiveness.

In the wake of God’s judgment of Israel, Jerusalem and the temple, how do the disciples of Jesus respond? They trust God. They pray in faith. They forgive their debtors. In the midst of judgment, disciples live by faith rather than sight, seek reconciliation and pray that God would move mountains.

When God shows up, God does not always come in grace. Sometimes God prosecutes judgment. Either way, disciples believe, pray and forgive.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part VIII)

Tennessee, a member of the Confederate States of America since July 1861, was now a full participant in an American bloody Civil War. Fanning had pursued every recourse to persuade disciples from joining the fight on either side.

Three disciples from Murfreesboro in Rutherford County penned a response to Fanning’s several articles, particularly his three articles in the July 1861 issue of the Gospel Advocate. William B. Lillard (a one time county official), G. S. Harding, and W. Ransome had been part of a group that had previously met with Fanning in Murfreesboro to discuss the war situation. They could not come to an agreement and now they, at Fanning’s request, submit their questions in the Advocate.

They ask Fanning why no Christian is justified in participating in the war when he himself had little doubt that the civil rights of the Southerners had been violated by the Northern aggression. They question Fanning’s position that Christians should refrain from defending the “frail institutions  of earth,” including civil governments. Though they, too, anticipate a time when kingdom of Christ will “break down all the kingdoms of the world,” they see the necessity of “good government” to protect lives, properties and rights. The Prince of Peace, they argue, has not yet overthrown governments and therefore Christians should participate in their just causes.

They argue that their “first duty is devotion to God, and next the improvement of our race and the world around us, and where we have a government…we should endeavor to sustain it.”  The ranking here is important:  God, race (!) and then government.  This ordering of priorities means that the good of the race is more important than government. Consequently, if a government oppresses or suppresses the race, then the race should overthrow the government by right of revolution. This is exactly the case with Northern tyranny, in their minds.

God gives good government to resist oppressors. This what the Confederate States of America are and they serve the just cause of God by preserving religious liberty and their race. Southern Christians should plead for peace but at the same time arm themselves for the defense of their homes and liberties, that is, for the defense of their race. Since God will not help those who do not help themselves, “every man should gird on his armor and assume the position which is most serviceable to his country” in “this her trying hour.”

****An Article Opposing Fanning****

William. B. Lillard*, G. S. Harding**, and W. Ransome***, “When the Duty of Christians to Shed Blood,” Gospel Advocate 7.9 (September 1861), 262-265.

Bro. Fanning: –In the July No. of the Gospel Advocate, after giving your views upon the duties of christians of the South in the present war, you express a willingness to “hear the arguments of any and of all upon this subject,” we therefore feel inclined to make a few comments upon the article referred to.

We are very much opposed to war, and think the circumstances must be very strong to justify it, and so far as your remarks go towards repressing the fanatical spirit of revenge which seems to animate the masses engaged in it, we are most happy to approve them, but in other points of view, we fear that their influence may be very undesirable. The design of your whole argument seems to be to show that although the people of the south not professing Christianity, are justified in resisting to the last extremity, the christian people should have nothing to do with it, nor indeed with the government at all, only so far as property extends. That we may not seem to misstate your position, I be leave [sic] to make a few quotations. You acknowledge on page 204, that “wars have been necessary,” and on page 211, you say, “if people were ever justified in resisting encroachments, we conscientiously believe the people of the Confederate States are.” Again on page 210, you say, “we have been asked again and again if we do not consider the people of the south fully justified in resisting the rule of the North?” You answer, “the right of revolution being admitted,” (we take this as an admission if you intend to answer the question at all) “we doubt not the civil rights of citizens South, to resist to the last extremity, but as religionists we should know neither North nor South.” While you think it right for citizens to resist to the last extremity, religious people should in all their actions even ignore the fact that war exists. Again, on page 211, you say “war in all its aspects is irreligious,” &c. So that whether it is an offensive or a defensive war, waged in defense of our lives and those of our families, no religious man can raise his hand in it. If a community of christians are not justifiable in taking up arms in defense of their lives and liberties, no christian man is justifiable in defending his own life; so that you seem here to be fully committed to the doctrine of non-resistance. He who advocates this doctrine, must also advocate the doing away with civil government, for the firs main design of government is to resist evil persons and consequently we were prepared to expect from you an argument endeavoring to prove the worthlessness of human government and that it is only a barrier to the reign of Christ on earth.

On page 197, you say, “and so soon as men shall complete” (it we presume is a misprint for forsake,) “their folly in originating and defending their frail institutions of earth, they will gladly admit the sovereignty of the Redeemer.” By “institutions of earth” you can only mean law and establishments pertaining to organized society, and therefore you think civil government is but the result of human folly, and should be forsaken. Further, in support of your argument against civil government, you object to Paul’s instructions to the saints in the 13th chapter of Romans, being so construed, as to recognize the authority in civil rulers to enforce obedience to law by the sword, for it is admitted that Paul recognized the necessity of civil government, and the duty of his brethren to sustain it, then your position, releasing Christians from any obligations to defend and sustain the “frail institutions of earth,” becomes untenable; therefore in reply to a question as to who were the “Powers that be,” and the rulers to whom the saints were instructed to be subject, and pay tribute, and to be afraid of, “for they bear not the sword in vain.” You said they were the deacons and elders of the church! Our greatest objection to popery has been that, the heads of the church held the laity in subjection, and we confess our surprise, Bro. Fanning, in hearing you, whom we have always supposed so much opposed to church castes, counseling us to be subject to, and hold in fear and terror the Elders and Deacons of our church, and we are sure that we have never seen any exercise of a authority on your part, which that sober minded apostle could have thought to represent as a ruler, exacting tribute of his subjects, and bearing a revenging sword to execute wreath upon evil doers.

You have quoted many prophecies that the kingdom of Christ is to break down all the kingdoms of the world, and we all agree in our desire for that happy state of things, but you have failed to show that anarchy would bring about that desired and sooner than good government. On the contrary—Christ and his apostles never advised his followers against government, but recognized the necessity of law and rulers, “law is made for the lawless and disobedient,” said Paul. The very idea of law and government, supposes thet [sic] its subjects must sustain it. It is idle to make laws, unless they are to be enforced even by the sword if necessary. A mere paper government amounts to nothing, and the success of the government depends upon the willingness of its subjects to assist in enforcing tis laws, and therefore, Paul instructs his christian brethren as subjects of the government, to be subject to the “the powers that be.” If the time had not then arrived when the Apostle thought the world could do without human institutions for the protection of society, upon what grounds can it be assumed that it has now! If the Prince of Peace is now ready to overthrow the governments of the earth and assume a direct sovereignty over the world, with the consent of the church, was he not them? and [sic] if so, would not his Apostles have advised his followers to leave the institutions of earth to take care of themselves? On the contrary, they enjoined upon them the necessity of sustaining these institutions.

If government is necessary, is not good government, better calculated to promote the spread of Christianity than bad, and are we not as Christians bound to “seek to control,” it in such manner as to most prosper our Master’s cause? By this we would not be misunderstood as advocating any civil interference to give shape or direction to church government, but a great deal may be done by removing the trammels, with which wicked governments impeded the church of Christ, as well as by organizing society in such a way as to protect us iu [sic] the enjoyment of religious liberty. The rapid spread of Christianity in our own country is greatly due to the protection which it has been given to our freedom of conscience. On the other hand, where in the history of the reign of anarchy has the cause of Christ been thereby prospered? We cannot regard man’s duties as a christian as being disconnected from the world from which he lives. Our first duty is devotion to God, and next the improvement of our race and the world around us, and where we have a government, giving us protection in property and life and religious liberty, and given free scope to the spread of christianity, we should endeavor to sustain it—and when because we refuse to assist in trampling under foot the principles upon which it is built, we are threatened with extermination by an invading foe, we should stand ready, as men and Christians to “resist to the last extremity.” How stands the case with us to-day? Our constitution has been broken, the clashing arms of a merciless invader are heard on our border, the handcuffs have been already forged for southern freemen, and you have well said that, “if a people were ever justified in resisting encroachments, the people of the Southern Confederacy are,” and yet you say to religious men, “employ none but spiritual weapons.” “You doubt whether the righteous can shed the blood of their fellows with impunity. “Peace must b secured by moral means alone.” What sort of moral means must be employed? When our houses are on fire must me [sic] stop to sing songs and pray, to the neglect of means which are at hand to extinguish it!? You say that “God strengthens the oppressed to resist the oppressor,” but while we pray to God to help us in tis our time of need to resist the oppressor, shall we fold our arms and disregard the promptings of our avenging helper? But when you reply that He “will put it into the hearts of the wicked to make this resistance,” we ask you, upon what authority you can assume that He makes such selections to accomplish His holy purposes? Our lives and liberties are at stake, and while we pray to God for His help and use all moral means in our power, we should remember that He will will [sic] never help those who refuse to help themselves. Every man should gird on his armor and assume that position which is most serviceable to his country iu [sic] this her trying hour. We have cryingly plead [sic] with the North for peace, and now we should put forth all our powers of defense and appeal to God to strengthen our arms. If we have misstated your position we should b glad to be corrected. We should be glad to hear your voice in these perilous times, when the cause of humanity and morality are involved, and when you say, “no good man has a right to silence.” Justifying us not only as citizens, but as religious citizens, in defending our homes and firesides.

Respectfully, Yours,
Wm. B. Lillard,
G. S. Haridng,
W. Ransome.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part IX)

Fanning printed a critical response to his peacemaking articles in the September issue of the Gospel Advocate, but not without his own reply to their questions (“Reply to Brethren Lillard, Harding and Ransome,” Gospel Advocate 7.9 [September 1861] 265-276).

Fanning characterized his previous articles for peacemaking as an attempt to be as “wise as serpents and harmless as doves.” He used language that he hoped would soothe rather than incite. He bent over backwards in an attempt to persuade disciples that they should not take up arms to fight each other. He hoped that 400,000-500,000 disciples would stand aloof from the fight like “Shakers, Quakers, and perhaps, a few kindred sects” did. Unfortunately, he estimates that about “one fourth of northern professors [disciples] are thirsting for the blood of their professed brethren south” and a larger percentage in the south are “engaged in war.” But, he hopes, the larger portion will remain steadfast that though “politically, they differ” the “differences of opinion” will not “interfere with their christian fellowship.”

The cause of Christ, Fanning writes, is “suffering from political strifes,” and thus he had to speak. And he has said nothing more or less than he has been saying for the past twelve years. Christians as “a peculiar people” must stand above all political alliances, including the temptation to “idolize the American Union” (italics mine, JMH). Christians have equated Americana with eternal blessings, but God’s kingdom will “conquer them all.”

Fanning thinks the present crisis was, in part, precipitated by “higher lawism,” which sought to find a “higher law” than the U.S. Constitution. Fanning is a strict constructionist in reading the Constitution, and more importantly, Scripture. “Higher Lawism” seeks “direct spiritual and political light” from sources other than the Constitution or Scripture. This is the root problem in both political and religious circles, and he has seen it among the disciples as well as other politicos and religionists. Without naming him, Fanning is talking about Robert Richardson of Bethany College whom he had engaged in a dispute on how to read Scripture, pneumatology and epistemology.

Fanning counsels that Christians confess that God is the Lord of the nations–he will decide this outcome. In their confession they should neither “interfere with him or even pray to him to take this side or that, of any national controversy, as the heathen do.” Instead, Christians pray “for the preservation of the people of God, and then, [that] the right, justice and humanity may prevail every where.” Though there may be early indications how God will use this fight and even bring victory to the South, “still we do not know what God has in reserve. We should not be presumptuous, but fear.”

Consequently, the course that the Murfreesboro disciples recommend is to return to “the days of Constantine” where the “partnership between church and state” was the “most deadly enemy to pure religion.” But Lincoln is even more at fault for doing so as he usurps government in order to pursue a form of “higher lawism.”

But whatever the case, “it may be God intends to punish all of us for our wickedness, but we should kiss the rod that smites us.” He concludes:

If then, the Savior and his Apostles preached such doctrine as applicable in their day, and as peculiar to this dispensation, if, when he could have called twelve legions of angels to his defense, he employed no offensive or defensive weapons save the sword of the Spirit, and if all early christians, “took joyfully the spoiling of their goods,” and submitted not only to the sacrifice of their earthly inheritance, but yielded their lives willingly rather than lift the sword for protection, it seems to us, that professed Christians in the nineteenth century should examine the subject carefully, before they attempt with Islams, Romans and Protestants, to propagate morality by the sword. Still, we say, as we have said from the beginning, this is a day of trial.

****Fanning’s Reply****

Dear Brethren:–From the first indication of war in 1860, to this moment, we have been much troubled as to our duty to our country, to our brethren and to our Maker. Not that, we have had any doubt as to the place of human institutions, the mission of the church or the teaching of the Bible in reference to either; but, as christian teachers, are to be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves,” the future at every step, has been so portentuous of evil, that we have feared the capacity of our poor brain, to determine the points involved in the great political and moral struggle of our beloved country, that should be discussed by us and to what extent, it was, or is, our duty or privilege to examine them. Owing still to the embarrassments that, attend out pathway, we consider it proper, before noticing particularly, the essay; to remind our readers of a few important points to which we have heretofore invited attention.

1. We have not considered it the duty of Christians;–men devoted to Christ—not policy professors—to construct, or control worldly institutions; such as civil governments, pseudo-religious organizations, in the form of party churches, or professedly moral reform societies, such as Masonic, Temperance or Odd Fellows, whilst there is a spiritual association quite adequate to employ all of our means for the benefit of our race. We have not denied at any time, that civil institutions, ecclesiastical bodies originating in the wisdom of men, or moral reform societies, have not accomplished some valuable results; but we have been of the judgment that, all the light that shines through these, is borrowed from the great foundation of spiritual life,–the church of God, and that whilst we as Christians are employing our energies to ameliorate the condition of the world by inferior machinery, we must neglect the superior to the discredit of the only organization and government, which have stood the test of the revolutions of eighteen centuries, and which we think, will endure to the end.

But as the war cloud began to rise, and the deep mutterings of Heavens [sic] thunder reached our ears, we observed that, the professed people of God were so deeply involved in the political whirlwinds that threatened the country, that we ventured to utter words of caution to the saints. We dictated nothing, but only exhorted christians to count well the cost in every step. For this, perhaps, by vicious and unthoughtful persons, we have been blamed. Our chief purpose has been to impress upon the brethren, the weight of personal responsibility that rests upon each, and that we all must account to God individually. The decision has been made by each north and south, and no discussion can now change the result; consequently, we have seen not the propriety of any lengthy discussion of matters which cannot be changed. The state of the case, is about the following. Civil war has really been inaugurated in our once prosperous and happy country, political parties, religious factions and reform societies are in deadly hostility to each other. Brethren, in the dominant ecclesiastical bodies, now freely embrue [sic] their hands in each others [sic] blood, but all in the name of their Gods, as it has been from the beginning. Shakers, Quakers, and perhaps, a few kindred sects stand aloof; but the four or five hundred thousand of the professed disciples of Christ in the States, are not entirely assured as to their duty. From all that we have been able to learn, a few of the writers and preachers north, say, “Put down this great rebellion—peaceably, if you can, forcibly if you must.” Perhaps one fourth of northern professors are thirsting for the blood of their professed brethren south.

Possibly, a shade larger proportion of the professed disciples south are earnestly engaged in war. Their position is, that aggressive war is murder, but defensive, to protect home and families, if no really christian, is at least proper in the circumstances. Some, bnth [sic] north and south, are of the judgment, that while all Christians are bound by the law of Christ, to respect civil governments, pray “for kings and all in authority, that they may lead quit [sic] peaceable lives in all godliness and honesty,” and in as much as they hold their property by virtue of their respective governments, all is subject to their maintenance; but that, there is no power in heaven or on earth adequate to force them to imbrue their hands in their fellows blood. Politically, they differ, toto ceolo, but differences of opinion are not to interfere with their christian fellowship.

2d. Touching what we have considered our own duty in the politico-religious strife of the country, we have a few words to say. We have not considered it our privilege to join any political faction, interfere in any of the election struggles, or even to attempt to control in the slightest, degree, any human government of our time, and yet, when we have seen Christians, as we believed, ensnared in political meshes, and the cause of Christ suffering from political strifes, we have deemed to proper, to utter a warning voice. This is mainly, what we have intended by our essays on “the crisis”—the war, and kindred subjects. To be sure, we have not considered ourself [sic] entirely ignorant, of passing political events, and when we were satisfied morality was in danger, we have not hesitated to speak, and we take the present occasion not only to repeat the sum and substance of our political preaching for more than a dozen years, but to more plainly than heretofore, given publicity to convictions repeatedly expressed as to the causes of the civil revolution which has so seriously involved the church of Christ in our century.

We have taught that, Christians are a “a peculiar people,” the kingdom of which they are members, is above all human fabrics, and is destined to conquer them all. It has also been a studied effort to satisfy our brethren that, they had no right to direct the governments of men, but were to submit and be satisfied while permitted to enjoy their christian privileges.

Our grand fathers both fought through the revolution of ’76, to achieve what we have been proud to call our “American Independence” and from our earliest recollection to manhood, we were aught to idolize the American Union. We considered it of eternality duration, till we studied more carefully the nature and purpose of all human governments, when we became satisfied that in the very nature of things, all earthly governments must vary with the circumstances that gave them birth and the fluctuations of time, and thought we plainly saw frailty and death, written upon them all. Thirty years ago, we were satisfied that at least one faction was attempting to seize the helm of our ship of state, and since, we witnessed the great Webster and Clay legislating to give the letter of the constitution authority. It required not a prophet then to see the instrument had had its day, had lost its force, and like the law of Moses, when it grew old, was ready to vanish away. The best system in the world was inaugurated to complete its overthrow. “The Higher Law” of man’s inward promptings usurped the place of constitutional and legislative authority over most of the north, and a part of the south. We had seen Christianity partially nullified in both sections under the influence of this demon. We had seen that the constitution of the country and the Word of God, did not, and could not weigh a feather with political and religious teachers who vehemently preached the higher authority of a “feeling sense” within which defined civil right and constituted and infallible religious test. The doctrine, first approved in this country, amongst the New England clergy, but soon found its way into the halls of Congress and ran like wild-fire amongst the less enlightened. Soon after its appearance in the east, an unlettered politician by flattering the lowest passions of humanity, crawled into the gubernatorial toga of Tennessee, and preached to the great wonderment of the multitude in his inaugural, the inherent ability of man to erect not only a perfect human government, but a kind of divine capacity to construct a spiritual temple, like Jacobs ladder, to reach to heaven. Through the influence of this dreamy philosophy, borrowed from the old world, as reflected by Theodore Parker, Tennessee governor and others, we saw a bright go meteor fall to the ditches and grog shops in our state metropolis. He talked with ghosts, and is still a wizard. Then it was; be it remembered to our credit, that we published and preached every where that, the doctrine subverted the very constitution, essence and spirit of Christ’s religion, and must sooner or later, subvert the constitution and laws of the United States, [sic] More recently, our readers will recollect that we gave a broad side to the monster—direct spiritual and political light—as we thought we saw him looming up in Bethany College. This ghost seeking was the death of Russell, Carman, Young, Happy and others, and so distempered the heart and soul of Richardson, that we fear all christian manliness has forsaken him. He confess his error? No, never.

The demon still walked about as a roaring lion, particularly north seeking whom he might devour, till he seized the dolt who is now president north, and inspired him and his coadjutors to swear that his party should rule or ruin the country. Then it was the ruling people should have said, “How can two walk together except they be agreed?” and finding no agreement, they should have claimed the right of release from oppression and to walk in their own ways. They waited too long, and failed to co-operate with all the states unable to bear the yoke. Eleven, however, have declared their independence, and others must soon do likewise. As a consequence, civil war, bloody and relentless with its thousands of evils exists in our country; and once for all, we wish to say that in governments of earth depending mainly upon force for existence, it is the bounden duty of those who have a right to politically control, to defend vi et armis, by all mans in their power and to the last extremity. One more thought and we shall close our prefatory remarks.

While we maintain that Christians are a peculiar people, and that the church of Christ is spiritual, needing no offensive or defensive weapons to support it, and that it will and must triumph peaceably over all the governments of the world, we rejoice to believe that the nations of the earth, as nations, are objects of the special care of the Almighty. They are his by creation, are in his hands and in the word of David, “The Lord is the governor among the nations.” (Ps. 22, 28.) He controls them in ways which we comprehend not, neither do we wish to interfere with him or even pray to him to take this side or that, of any national controversy, as the heathen do. We can pray as a christian, first, for the preservation of the people of God, and then, the right, justice and humanity may prevail every where. It is true, we sometimes fear our superstitious proclivities are greatly strengthening. Really we have thought we have already seen the finger of God in the American struggle, just where it was not anticipated by the world. Jehovah has for the first time in an age, more than amply supplied the people of the south with all that earth could yield, and the armies of the south have been victorious where there were not more than two to one. Still we know not what God has in reserve. We should not be presumptuous, but fear.

We hope our correspondents have not grown impatient at our long travel in reaching their very respectful communication. We will notice each point with the best ability we possess and fear no evil.

1. In answer to their first suggestion that they “fear” there are “points of view” in which the “influence” of some of our teaching may prove “very undesirable” we beg leave to say that, the rule they adopt—“fear of influences”—is an unsrie [sic] one to determine the truth of any question. Had we been governed by apparent influences, and supposed tendencies, we would have been [sic] abandoned the christian religion long since. In spite of themselves, they have adopted policy, as their standard, and are preaching their own views of propriety, a king od natural higher law of public opinion,–outward pressure from the world, the flesh and the devil, which they think most control our religious teaching. A Christian should ask but one question in reference to all moral decisions, viz: What is truth? what does God say? What is the spiritual teaching? We hope our brethrens “fear of influences” will not more disturb them. We were born in Tennessee, and have preached in the state most of the time for more than thirty years, and have been told a thousand times that the influence of our teaching, was more than “undesirable”—perfectly ruinous to the country, and yet we have pursued the even tenor of our way, and still believe our religious influence has been for good. Our brethren will bear with our frankssne [sic].

2. We have not taught that Christians should “ignore the existence of the war,” as our brethren intimate, but rather that they should consider it as Christians, and not run frantic as many partizan [sic] religionists have done. We are candid to admit that, we are not sure Christians should have any thing more to do with the institutions of the world than to submit to whatever government is placed over them, if under it, they can enjoy their christian liberty, pay their taxes, pray for rulers, etc., that they may not be hindered in their labor in the Lord’s vineyard. We are also free to admit, that if according to our brothern’s [sic] teaching christians are the proper persons to take charge of the world, like Mohammed and the Pope, they should employ the sword, to protect their government, and in the words of our correspondents, “Put forth all their powers of defense and appeal to God to strengthen their arms.” At present, we wish not te [sic] enter further into the argument of this question! But we ask our brethren to determine if this is not what Rome, England and all politico-ecclesiastical establishments have done? Is it connecting church and state? Bringing the church to support the state, and in turn, seeking the friendship of the state to give the success to the church? We cannot be mistaken in the doctrine, and from the days of Constantine in the fourth century, this partnership between church and state has been the most deadly enemy to pure religion. Christianity needs no sword, bruised reed, or a quenching of the smoking flax, for its protection. It dictates no form of human government, may live in any, and asks not the protection of any, further than to be let alone.

3. We have opposed no “organized society,” or denied the necessity of human government, as our brethren charge, and we are sorry that they are inclined to make us say what we never believed or taught. Our view, and we believe the teaching of the Bible is, that “law is not made for a righteous man”—a man governed fully by the principles of Christianity needs nothing more,–but it is requisite for “the lawless and disobedient, for the profane, for murderers, and for all who are not susceptible of sound teaching. While men are rebellious and wicked, they will require governments of force, the sword will remain in requisition to keep them in bounds. We hope this will be satisfactory.

4. Regarding “the higher powers” mentioned by Paul, Rom. 13, 17, we certainly differ. In our interview in Murfreesboro, our positions were distinctly state, and I beg the liberty to stating them again. You assumed that, the higher powers, were not only the civil officers, but these were, or might have been Christians, and the idea of higher authority, was intended to show that when religious and civil authority came into contact, the religious must yield to the civil. This was, at least, the position of the writer of the strictures on our teaching.

Our view was that, if Paul meant civil officers, they were men of the world, and therefore, the necessity of employing the sword in the execution of law, did not necessarily rest upon christians. We did not say that, these higher powers were deacons and elders, as you write, but intimated that, they might have been the seniors, bishops, or overseers, whom the Holy Spirit had designated as the only authorized shepherds of the flock. We have long doubted whether these “ministers of God attending continually” upopn their service, and to whom the brethren at Rome were to be “subject” and “to pay tribute,” or rather, in a fair translation, contributions, in the plural, are constables, sheriffs, hangmen, etc. We are told, “they bear the sword.” Jesus came to “send a sword” and yet it was not of steel, “Out of his mouth went a sharp two-edged sword” by which his people conquered, and the word of God is the sword of the Spirit. We are disposed to conclude, the word sword, is employed as emblematical of the authority of rightful directors in the church. Our brethren’s remarks in reference to our supposed popish tendencies, we consider inappropriate. God has constituted certain persons in the church to execute his law on disobedient members, and it is no popery to maintain that, these are the seniors in each congregation.

5. When we expressed the belief that the church of Christ was destined “to break in pieces and consume” the kingdoms of the world, and “the kingdom and dominion and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heavens shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High,” we intimated not that “anarchy would bring about that desired end sooner than good government,” as our brethren charge upon us. There is no evidence that any sort of human government will accomplish this end; and yet men in all ages have vainly flattered themselves that by their efforts in constructing governmental plans and systems, they could essentially aid the Almighty. This is the pith of our brethrens [sic] doctrine. They had just as well hold up their feeble tapers at noon to help the sun shine. God will accomplish the end by the sword that proceeds out of the mouth of Him on the white horse, as plainly taught by John, Rev. 19, 21. But Mohammed on the red horse,–the emblem of a bloody religion,–or the pope upon the black horse of mysticism, or modern religionists with swords to establish governments and religions to suit their bloody taste, will have no part in the achievements of the Prince of Peace.

6. While our brethren boast of “the rapid spread of Christianity in our own country, as being greatly due to the protection which it has given to our freedom of conscience, we think it might not be improper to ask, by what rule they have satisfied themselves of the rapid progress of “pure religion.” If we are not mistaken God is testing the genuineness of much of the religion of this country, and if we are not deceived some of it will prove base metal. When you glorify the civil governments for our liberty of conscience, if you mean to say these governments take not cognizance of religion, we fully agree with you, but if you mean to maintain the divine right of every aman’s worshipping God as seems accordant with the dictates of his own impulses, we would respectfully suggest that the Alwise has given no such licause [sic]. He has dictated the forms of belief and worship in the Divine Oracles, and pronounced eternal condemnation on all who do not submit.

We exceedingly dislike the brethren’s continual insinuations as to our disposition to oppose good government. Without boasting, we doubt not we are as loyal as any one of them; and are as anxious that the best human form of government on earth may be established in the south as any man living. We know the political creeds of the country,–have interfered with none,–never expect to do so—but we tell these brethren plainly that the rule or ruin doctrines of certain schools north and south we have always dreaded, and should they ever get complete ascendancy in the respective sections, we shall not consider property, our religious liberty or our life very secure. Brethern, do not preset us in an odious light before the public, to gratify the ignorant spleen of such religious speculators as have had the impertinence to refer to us in your city, in a style well calculated to stir up strife. We can maintain all of our positions when permitted, but both human and christian endurance have a limit.

7. Our brethren must consider us very patient, or they fail to fully appreciate the tenor of some of their remarks. In answer to our pleadings for “moral means” to secure peace in our distracted country, they ask us, “what sort of moral means must be employed when our homes are on fire? Must we stop to sing songs and pray to the neglect of means which are at hand to extinguish it.” Satisfy us that songs and prayer are the only agents to extinguish fire and we will employ no others, but all knowing that water is the proper agent, a maniac alone would sing psalms to the flames. What do our brethren mean? Do they intend to say that, the sword is the proper and only peace agent of earth? More, infinitely more, has been accomplished for the peace; prosperity and happiness of the world, by the love of the Savior, the kindness, innocency and humility of the saints than by all the wars from the debauched Alexander the great to the coarse and bloody Lincoln of the north. We trust in God that he is trying the last experiment of the world to conquer peace, in a civilized and enlightened age, by the sword. The truth is, if Lincoln ever had sound sense, he has lost it, and we verily believe that God has demented and maddened his advisers, enervated all thought, or power in his generals, and turned his soldiers into blinded demons in order to satify [sic] the world of the folly of attempting to unite into a great brotherhood, honest and intelligent men, by freely shedding the blood of the innocent; and yet our brethren in our judgment, are preaching the same doctrine. We must tell them in very great kindness that from the Alpha to the Omega of their remakes, their doctrine is, “Do evil that good may come.” Time and a little more careful study of the Spirit’s Oracles, we earnestly believe, will very much modify their religious sentiments and feelings.

8. Our brethren ask us, “Upon what ground do we assume that the Lord puts it into the hearts of the wicked to resist the oppressor”? We presume it will be sufficient on our part, to prove the fact, without attempting to define very clearly the mode of God’s operating on the nations. David prayed, “Deliver my soul from the wicked, which is thy sword.” Ps. 17, 13. Jehovah called the wicked “Assyrian, the rod of his anger” and declared that, “the staff in their hand, was his indignation.” Is. 10, 5. As a punishment of the people of God, he “gave them over to the sword”—the Babylonians. Ps. 78, 62. Fifteen hundred years before it came to pass, the Lord threatened, if his people rebelled, to “bring a nation against them from far, from the end of the earth, as swift as the eagle that flieth, a nation of free countenance and whose tongue they should not understand.” Deut. 28, 49. This was literally fulfilled by the Romans when Jerusalem was destroyed in the first century of the christian era. For nearly eighteen centuries the Jews have been dishonored, and at “the fullness of the Gentiles,” God has threated to “put it into the hearts of the ten horns”—ten European divisions of the politico-religious divisions of the Romish “mother of harlots add abominations of the earth,” to do his will. Rev. 17, 16, 17. These ten powers are now the chief support of the mixed religions of Rome and Protestantism, but ere long, by an Alwise and over ruling Providence that strictly political element of the ten kingdoms will prevail over the false religions with which the nations are cursed, and “the horns shall hate the whore, shall make her desolate and naked, shall eat her flesh and burn her with fire.” This will be by the sword, by violence. Then will the words be fulfilled, “Rejoice over her, thou heaven (the church of Christ) and ye holy apostles and prophets for God hath avenged you on her.” Rev. 18, 20. Thus the Lord selects wicked agents to accomplish his purpose. To this end he “raised up Pharaoh.” When a people become too proud, arrogant and oppressive for endurance, God in his wisdom, often selects the weaker people and down trodden, for the punishment of the stronger. We wish not to be presumptuous, but it does seem to us, even in our country, as we previously said, we think we can see the finger of God every where, yet we wish not to be presumptuous. The future is dark. By a ruinous policy of government, a part of the people of these once United States, became like Greece and Rome, in the day of their wealth and pride, boastful, tyrannical, ungodly, and determined to rule. The President said, “we (a sectional, self-willed and arrogant faction) take charge of the government.” This monstrous declaration alone, was quite sufficient to put it into the hearts of the weaker people south, upon whom the regulation of governmental affairs devolved, “to fufil the Lord’s will” in humbling the Usurper. It seems to us that Heaven has not only blinded the greater offenders, but said to the less offensive, unsheathe the sword, kill and slay, till the transgressors are better prepared to appreciate the best form of human government ever entrusted to man. It may be God intends to punish all of us for our wickedness, but we should kiss the rod that smites us. In connection, with these, perhaps, speculative views, there is but one more point in the letter of our brethren to which we will call attention, viz: On whom devolves the necessity of shedding blood in defence of political right? We have answered the question in various forms, but we will reap our very deliberate conclusion. If the responsibility of furnishing laws for the disobedient, as well as their execution, rests peculiarly, as our brethren intimate, upon the saints, they are particularly called by God, to buckle on the armor and punish evil doers. They ought to be sure, in the first place, in consequence of their righteousness, to say to the world, “stand aside, we are better qualified to make laws for you than you are for yourselves, and by virtue of our superior qualification, we are Heaven’s chosen agents for the execution of our laws over you.” This is precisely what the North has attempted to do. The rulers have said to the south, preachers and politicians, “you are too ignorant and wicked for self government,” being guilty of too many sins damnable per se, and in the words of the great apostle Beecher, “you must be spanked into obedience.” This is a pretty fair statement of the dominant religious sentiment of the parties struggling for power. Now, if the rulers north or our correspondents are correct in their conclusion, they are perfectly justifiable in cutting the throats of all who are not disposed to yield to their authority. Our brethren tell us that Paul teaches that christian rulers bear not the sword in vain.

We confess, however, that we have misgivings as to the truth of the doctrine pleaded by these brethren, and preachers generally north and south. If we are mistaken, we hope our countrymen will bear with us till we can learn better. In conclusion we would respectfully submit some of the grounds of our doubts. We read in an ancient document called by some, The Book, that, “It shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lords house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and many people shall go and say, come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths, for out of Zion shall go forth the law and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. Aad [sic] he shall judge among the nations and rebuke many people, and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their speers into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” Is. 2; 3, 4.

Luke refers to this prophecy when he said “It was written that repentance and remission of sins shall be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.” Luke 24, 47. If then, the Savior and his Apostles preached such doctrine as applicable in their day, and as peculiar to this dispensation, if, when he could have called twelve legions of angels to his defense, he employed no offensive or defensive weapons save the sword of the Spirit, and if all early christians, “took joyfully the spoiling of their goods,” and submitted not only to the sacrifice of their earthly inheritance, but yielded their lives willingly rather than lift the sword for protection, it seems to us, that professed Christians in the nineteenth century should examine the subject carefully, before they attempt with Islams, Romans and Protestants, to propagate morality by the sword. Still, we say, as we have said from the beginning, this is a day of trial. The professors of religion who feel responsible for the creation and execution of worldly governments, are inexcusable and cowardly if they hesitate to employ force to carry out their creed. Though let every member of the church judge, determine and act for himself. We promise nothing, and cannot tell what circumstances may force us to do. Our reliance so far has been upon God, and our constant prayer to Heaven is, may the right prevail, may the wicked be humbled, the lowly and righteous be exalted, and may God be honored in his institutions, and in his dealings with nations.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate For Peace in 1861 (Part X)

After printing the questions of some of his critics and then responding to them, Fanning counsels his readers about “suitable labor for Christians in these perilous times” (Gospel Advocate 7.9 [September 1861] 281-286).

What is a Christian to do in these trying times? Fanning laments that the disciples who have long “maintained that the word of God alone is” sufficient for life and union have “in a twinkling of an eye” unsheathed the “sword against each other, and cry loudly, ‘revenge or death’.” He fears 1/4 of northern and 1/3 of  southern disciples are now warriors.

No one can mandate what another must do, Fanning writes. But he asked for advice. As the elder statesman of southern disciples, he offers some. Pray for workers in the present harvest; the kingdom of God needs peacemakers among the combatants. Disciples have an “important part to perform in the present war. If God has not called us to sue the sword of man, he evidently has to employ the sword of the Spirit.” This is the time for Christians “to unfurl the banner of the cross, and cry aloud to armies, ‘fear God,’ and ‘give him glory and honor‘.”

Fanning, in essence, wants to send workers “into the army, into presdient’s house, into cabinets and amongst the vilest of enemies, and urge the claims of Jesus of Nazareth.” He wants to supply soldiers with Bibles. Christians must take care of the widows and orphans this war will produce and to supply suffering soldiers”with all comforts at their command” and “to bind up their wounds.” In other words, in the midst of wars, Christians make peace, heal the hurting and care for the suffering as they “point” everyone to the Lamb of God. “The care of destitute widows whose husbands, though slain by the sword, the sustenance and education of their children, are the peculiar work of Christians.” And the disciples of Christ should open and conduct hospitals for the wounded and sick soldiers–and such was the use Fanning made of Franklin College facilities in Nashville, TN. “What a vast amount of suffering might be relieved by united Christian benevolence,” Fanning writes, about North and South.

Pray that God will send peacemakers into the vineyard of the kingdom of God.

While sectarianism has run mad, would it not be expedient to call the attention of even the heads of departments publicly, privately and in every manner in our power, to the spirit’s lessons of peace. If the talent and influence of the brotherhood could be brought on a world in strife, the triumphs would be astonishing in our eyes. The fields are fully ripe for the harvest, but the laborers are few. Let us pray the Lord to send out more and better workers into his vineyard.

****Fanning’s Article****

It is scarcely possible to realize the difficulties under which the people of God are laboring. When troubles are at a distance it is quite easy for us to speculate,–to decide as to the right of parties,–and we are almost sure to say that “if we were such and such persons we would not do so and so,” not reflecting that we cannot appreciate all the causes which influence others, and we known not how we would act in different circumstances. But now we are in unanticipated troubles that must, in their very nature, over whelm many, and whilst we are blaming the North, and not yet justifying all that is done in the South, we remind our friends that it is a delicate matter to find fault when we have no remedy to offer—no sovereign balm to heal the wound. National, and certainly religious blindness has seized upon many of our people. When we see a people that have lived in peace and prosperity together for eighty years, break into a thousand fragments, and what we have supposed, the best human government of the world trampled in the dust, we may well ponder as to the meaning; but when we see former friends lift the sword against each other, we should not be surprised at the stout-hearted fearing and trembling. Worse still, when we witness men of one parentage, one blood, nursed by the same mother, greedily seeking each other’s blood, we may well ask, has an incurable madness possessed their hearts? But when we find denominations of religionists, that have long rejoiced together as brethren in the spirit, traveling in the same pathway to a world of bliss, rise in vengeance to take away each others lives, we may well ask ourselves the solemn question, are these the servants of God? Or does Satan rule their hearts and lives? Yet there is, if possible, a darker part of the picture to be unveiled.

When we find a people who have long rejoiced together as brethren on a platform not their own, but from above, who have maintained that the word of God alone is not only a sufficient rule of life for all good men, but amply competent to bind the whole race of man in one universal brotherhood, almost in a moment, in the twinkling of the eye, unsheathe the sword against each other, and cry loudly, “revenge or death,” and yet they know not about what; grave men and seniors may well begin to enquire, has God forsaken the earth, an given over even the wise and prudent to work out their own destruction in their one way? Do we intimate too much in reference to Christians?

Whilst the denominations are as one man crying for each other’s blood, the people known as the disciples of Christ are not all in the conflict. As we stated in a previous number of our paper, perhaps one-fourth of the professed Christians North cry for blood; some who have not taken up arms—preachers among them—say, “This great rebellion must be put down, peaceably if we can, forcibly if we must.” Possibly one-third of the brethren in the South are fully harnessed for the conflict. They cry, however, for no vengeance, want nothing from the North, but maintain, as they suppose, a divine right to protect their country, their homes,–the property that has cost them a life’s labor—their families, and above all, to defend the right of self-government. We have said, and repeat that if Christians in any circumstances are authorized by Heaven to bear the sword, it occurs to us, that this is the time to unsheathe it and throw the scabbard away. But most of the brotherhood are staggered, shrink back, and ask what does God mean? All they want is to know his will, and they will perform it with alacrity. So far, they have acted under the conviction that strife is mainly of the world; and as they have vowed allegiance to the Prince of peace, and are members of a kingdom “not of this world,” and not to be promoted by violence, they content themselves to give all due respect to the rulers of the world, pay their taxes like all other good and loyal citizens, and they prefer waiting a little longer for developments before engaging in the strife. We repeat, that from the best information we can command, from two-thirds to three-fourths of the professed four or five hundred thousand disciples North and South occupy this ground, and look alone to God for guidance.

No one says to his brother do this or do that, go to war or abstain from blood, but let each act upon his own conviction of duty to God and his country, and let no one interfere. Each must account to Heaven for himself.

But there is another view of the matter to which we desire very respectfully to call the attention of the brethren. We are not to be idle spectators, fold our arms, stand aloof and do nothing. If there is a sin more heinous than all others, it is the sin of idleness. Are we told that if Christians are no disposed to shed blood, there is no work for them to do. Must they go into the caves and dens of the earth to conceal themselves from responsibility? Far from it. Some ask, “What can we do?” We will attempt a bird’s eye view of the field of Christian labor.

When our Saviour found the world in wickedness, he said to his disciples, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few, pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth into his vineyard laborers.” If Christians find themselves surrounded with the wicked, their labor is imperiously demanded. If the hundreds of thousands who hesitate to take up arms to conquer, or otherwise gain a peace, tell us that war is wrong, and the inaugurators and conductors of the present war are mad, and sinners above all others, it is no argument fortheir idleness or want of interest. Admit that wars exist only in the absence of Christian influence, we ask what amount of Christian influence has been brought to bear, by professed Christians in the past four months, in order to put an end to it? Are those who anticipate a cessation of arms by Christian peace measures making any formidable efforts to accomplish so desirable an end? It will not answer for us to conclude that those engaged in the war are not in a condition to receive the truth, and yet we do nothing to change their belligerent relations. We would solemnly impress upon the brethren that certainly we have some important part to perform in the present war. If God has not called us to sue the sword of man, he evidently has to employ the sword of the spirit. We imagine there has never been in our country so favorable an opportunity to unfurl the banner of the cross, and cry aloud to armies, “fear God,” and “give him glory and honor.” Christianity was not always intended to put down evils by direct attacks, but by so engaging men otherwise that they could not practice sin. Hence, it the world could be stimulated to a pure life, to pratise [sis] godliness, there would be no time nor disposition with men to cut each other’s throats. But we repeat, if Christians are not called of Heaven to take an important part in the present struggle, we are greatly mistaken.

At present, however, we wish not to discuss any doubtful question, but would respectfully call the attention of the brotherhood to matters in reference to which we consider our duty plainly revealed.

1st. Under the authority to preach the Gospel in all the world, it is the duty of Christians to go every where, into the army, into president’s houses, into cabinets, and amongst the vilest of enemies, and urge the claims of Jesus of Nazareth. Thousands and tens of thousands of men who enlisted in the army merely in frolic, or with the idea that it was a small matter, have been perfectly revolutionized by camp life. Many, after staring death fully in the face, are disposed to turn their thoughts up to God, and evince a willingness to learn wisdom that is divine, surely good and humble men could preach profitably to the multiplied thousands in camp, and yet not merely become movers of men to shed blood.

2nd. We learn, that but few in the army are supplied with Bibles—the very word of life—and there are but few who would not delight at times to read. Men necessarily become tired of bloody thoughts and deeds, and in such times many would likely rejoice to look at the sacred oracles. Should not then Christians labor, by all means in their power, to furnish their kindred and countrymen in the tented field, Bibles and books that might direct their hearts to God and Heaven.

3rd. if it is “pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father to take care of the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and keep ourselves unspotted from the world,” we may find a wide field of labor in protecting orphans and widows left destitute by thousands who fell in battle and by disease the army. We may be told, if ward is unchristian, we would become particips criminis by even supporting the destitute widow whose husband fell in the battle field. It would be quite as good logic to say that the poor and destitute who have been degraded by the dissipation of husbands and fathers, are, on this account to go unprotected by Christians. When we find human beings sinful, degraded and miserable, we are not to inquire which of their ancestors sinned, but at once employ our powers to relieve them. Hence, we doubt not, it is the duty of Christians to watch the sufferings of their countryman in camp, to supply them with all comforts at their command, bind up their wounds, and above all, to point them to “the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world.” The care of destitute widows whose husbands, though slain by the sword, the sustenance and education of their children, are the peculiar work of Christians.

4th. We would be delighted to learn that the disciples of Christ, North and South, who consider not themselves parties to this fratricidal war, were opening and conducting hospitals for the wounded and sick soldiers. What a vast amount of suffering might be relieved by united Christian benevolence. Many noble youths are now crying to us for help, and Christians should not harden their hearts,–it is legitimately our labor, to be foremost in every good work. How would it answer to convert the school and college edifices, which must remain destitute of students to the end of the struggle, into asylums for the poor and afflicted, and especially for suffering soldiers.

Whilst we are sincere in our conclusions, we flatter ourselves that we have not transcended our authority, and yet we have found ample employment for Christians in the army without requiring them to slay a single fellow being. We believe ether is a better field of labor than that of deadly strife, and we should cheerfully occupy it.

In conclusion, we suggest to the brethren that if we are disposed to labor in any of the departments we have mentioned in connection with the war, the work would not only be legitimately Christian in all its bearings, but we might exert an influence for good innalculable [sic] in its consequences, not only on the distressed widows and orphans, the care-worn, heart-broken and suffering soldier, but a still more beneficial influence might be exerted over the bloody men who are urging on this most horried war. Florence Nightengale won bright laurels by her devotion to the sick and dying in the Crimea, and Augusta J. Evans, author of Beulah, a still brighter star, is destined to win a richer reward in Virginia hospitals than the bravest general on the tented field. Our appeal is to truly Christian men and women not to let this favorable opportunity to do good pass without improving it. Who will enlist as soldiers to point the erring to God, and relieve the distressed?

Whilst Christians are so doubtful as to the effect of passing events, it will be well for us to turn our thoughts more to the future. There is nothing of earth enduring, and hence, in addition to any labor we may perform in connection with the present revolution and disastrous war, we may confidently anticipate a growing interest in the world with reference to the religion of the Bible. Our position is most advantageous. We have no political or religious creed to defend, but it is our high mission to call the attention of our despondent countrymen to a cause that is not only divine, but promises eternal rest. Possibly we lack cooperative effort and greater energy. More earnestness, zeal and humility in the advocation of the claims of the Messiah would well become us. While sectarianism has run mad, would it not be expedient to call the attention of even the heads of departments publicly, privately and in every manner in our power, to the spirit’s lessons of peace. If the talent and influence of the brotherhood could be brought on a world in strife, the triumphs would be astonishing in our eyes. The fields are fully ripe for the harvest, but the laborers are few. Let us pray the Lord to send out more and better workers into his vineyard.

Zechariah 10:1-12 — Hope for Ephraim

Judah, presently a small backwater province of the Persian Empire, is promised that its future borders will spill over into Philistia, Lebanon and Syria (Zechariah 9:1-8). The land will yield grain and new wine as God restores Judah (Zechariah 9:16-17). God will accomplish this through a king who will bring peace to the nations (Zechariah 9:9-10).

Zechariah brings hope to a despondent, discouraged Judah. The people of Judah have returned to the land from Babylonian exile, the temple has been rebuilt, and Judah awaits the glory of restoration. But it has not yet come. Further, what is the future of Ephraim (Israel), the northern kingdom that was taken into Assyrian exile? What will become of them? Will God show compassion on Ephraim just as he has on Judah? Is the promise for all twelve tribes?

The oracle about the land, king from Judah and the restoration of Judah continues in Zechariah 10 to include Ephraim. The Lord will have compassion on Ephraim just as he did on Judah (Zechariah 10:6; cf. 1:12-14).

However, a perennial problem exists. Judah is shepherdless, at least godly shepherds. Judah’s leaders continue to seek advice and counsel, to seek rain and blessing from sources other than Yahweh. Idolatry is yet a problem in Judah.

Rain is the lifeblood of Israel. Unlike Egypt with the Nile and the rivers of the Mesopotamia, there is no river in Israel that waters the soil and prepares it for planting and harvesting. The land of Palestine is wholly dependent upon rain (Deuteronomy 11:10-12). Since Baal is the god of the storm, Canaanites and ultimately Israel itself turned to Baal for rain.

Instead of asking Yahweh to bring the rain with its storm clouds, the leaders of Judah sought it through “idols,” “diviners,” and “dreams.” Divination was a frequent method of discerning the will of the gods in the ancient world (e.g., Ezekiel 21:21). The leaders of Judah had turned to these false hopes rather than seeking Yahweh and thus they are no shepherds at all.

Yahweh will resolve this problem. The true Shepherd, Yahweh, will raise up new leaders for his flock. God will punish the old leaders and make Judah like a proud war horse who is prepared for battle. They will be a cornerstone of a building, a peg for a tent and a battle bow. These rulers—perhaps a royal court that is associated with the king who is coming (9:9-10)—will defeat the enemies of God as mighty warriors because “the Lord is with them.”

In other words, though the present picture of Judah is nowhere near the idyllic scene of Zechariah 9 due to its corrupt leaders, God will yet act in the future to depose those leaders and raise up new ones who will lead God’s flock. They will make Judah like a proud war horse that defeats all foes.

But what is to become of Ephraim? Have the promises of God failed for all Israel or is only for Judah? The parallelism of Zechariah 10:6, God will make the house of Judah/Joseph strong/victorious, answers the question. The destiny of Judah is also the destiny of Ephraim. God intends to restore Ephraim as well.

Like Judah, Ephraim will become a mighty warrior (10:5, 7) and drink new wine (9:17; 10:7). Just as Judah’s children will play in the streets of Jerusalem (8:) and people joyfully celebrate feasts within its boundaries (8:19), so Ephraim’s children will see the joy of the coming work of God for them (10:7).

This blessing is rooted in God’s compassion for Ephraim (cf. Jeremiah 31:19-22). God, grieved by a series of faithless kings in the northern nation and by their adoption of Baal worship under Ahab, had sent them into Assyrian exile. It has seemed that for over two hundred years God had totally rejected them. But God is faithful and remembers his promise to Abraham; Yahweh is their God and they are his people. He will renew Ephraim and it will be as though he had never rejected them (10:6).

So, what will Yahweh do? He will whistle (translated “signal,” 10:8). Earlier in history, God had whistled to Egypt and Assyria to come and punish Israel (Isaiah 7:18), but now he whistles to his people living in Egypt and Assyria to come home. God will again gather his people through a new Exodus.

This action recalls the Abrahamic promise. When they return to the land, they will prosper and become so numerous that there is no room for them in the land. Judah, it should be remembered, was a lightly populated province, and the north was even less populated by Abraham’s descendents. The promise, however, is that so many will return that both Gilead (the region east of the Jordan River) and Lebanon (including the cities of Tyre and Sidon) will fill with Ephraim’s descendents. While Gilead was part of the original division of the land at the time of Joshua, it was sparsely populated. But Lebanon was never inhabited by Israel though it is part of the Abrahamic promise (Genesis 15:17) and was included in the border expansion of Zechariah 9:1-8.

The return of the Ephraimites will be like a new Exodus, just as Judah’s return from Babylon was as well. The pride of Assyria and Egypt will be humbled and Abraham’s descendents will pass through the seas and rivers on dry land. Ephraim will be renewed; they will be strengthened so that they might be a people who, in the name of Yahweh, “will walk” before  God (that is, live the life of God in the land). God will strengthen Ephraim (10:12) just as he will strengthen Judah (10:6).

When will this happen? Has it already happened? When Jesus walked the earth, the Jews believed they were still living in exile. These promises had not yet been fully realized. Abraham’s descendants stilled lived under oppression; the nations (Rome, in particular) ruled.

The Christian story claims to realize these promises, but there is significant disagreement about how they are realized. Some suggest these promises are realized spiritually through the church as the twelve tribes are restored as the people of God in the kingdom of God. Some suggest they will be realized through some kind of millennial reign either before or after the second coming of Christ. Others suggest they are realized in the new heavens and new earth.

So….we keep reading and hear the rest of the story that Zechariah announces.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate for Peace in 1861 (XI)

By November 1861 the Confederate States and the Union were well settled into their warring camps and bloody conflict was in full swing. By mid-February of 1862, Ft. Henry on the Tennessee River and Ft. Donelson on the Cumberland would fall to Federal forces. By the end of February, Nashville was in Union hands.

Rather than continuing his frontal assault on the war in hopes of dissuading the masses from participation in the war, Fanning turned toward more practical matters of how one might serve as a “minister of peace” in the war.  In particular, Fanning honored “preachers laboring in either Southern or Northern army as the angels of the churches, in their heavenly mission to the frail, the sick, wounded and dying.” At the same time, he is horrified that other preachers have supported the war, and this is the primary occasion of his November 1861 article.

In particular, he is appalled that the Missionary Society passed resolutions “approving most heartily of the wholesale murder of the people South who do not choose to be governed by a sectional party North.” He had also heard of an elder from Hopkinsville, KY, who voted in the legislature not only to support the Union army with “men and money” but “to hang all who doubt the right of foreigners to rule ove our people whether willing or not.”

Is this peacemaking, Fanning asks. Do they serve the “Prince of Peace”? He thinks not.  So, he concludes:

Should we ever meet them in the flesh, can we fraternize with them as brethren? How can the servants of the Lord of this section ever strike hands with the men who now seek their life’s blood? We do not know how this matter appears to others, but without thorough repentance, and abundant works demonstrating it, we cannot see how we can ever regard preachers who enforce political opinions by the sword, in any other light than monsters in intention, if not in very deed. How can Christian men of the South do otherwise? We may not understand the true spirit of Christianity, or we may be deranged, but if we have studied the Bible to any advantage and we are not mad, the world’s conflicts work out many important results. They prove that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth; they serve as fiery purifiers,–separating the dross from the pure metal; they fully expose false professions, and last, but not least, they aid the disciples of the Meek and Lowly One to exhibit a love for truth and righteousness, to which all others are strangers.

*****Fanning’s Article****

Tolbert Fanning, “Ministers of Peace in the World’s Conflicts,” Gospel Advocate 7.11 (November 1861) 347-348.

From our earliest acquaintance with the Sacred Oracles, we have entertained not a doubt that the Church of God is an institution not only differing widely from the civil, ecclesiastical and so termed moral organizations of the world, but that it is independent of them all, and destined finally, by its superior excellence, to triumph over all the powers of the earth. Hence, we have not believed that Christians, and especially ministers of the word, are responsible, for “worldly-powers,” or that they could interfere with them without serious detriment in their relations to God. We had hoped that the messengers of mercy and peace, would devote themselves still to their Heavenly calling, but in this, we have been sadly disappointed. Tobesure [sic], we could have no objection whatever to preachers laboring in either Southern or Northern army as the angles of the churches, in their heavenly missions to the frail, the sick, wounded and dying. This is the sphere of our operations, and the civilized world will never cease to approve of the labor. But, as intimated, we are pained to learn that few preachers in the South and many in the North, have stepped from their humble profession into one entirely conformable to the world. Authentic evidence has reached us that Elder D. P. Henderson, of Louisville, Dr. L. L. Pinkerton, of Harrodsburg College, and quite a number of others in Kentucky and further North, during the Missionary Meeting at Cincinnati, in October, passed strong resolutions, approving most heartily of the wholesale murder of the people South who do not chose to be governed by a sectional party North. Even a Senior in the church of Hopkinsville, Ky., has voted in the legislature not only men and money to subdue his brethren in Kentucky, by the bayonet, but to hang all who doubt the right of foreigners to rule over our people whether willing or not.

We mention these startling facts, not for the purpose of discussing their morality, or the merits of any political question, but merely to make a few enquiries.

Can these men, who so vociferously rejoiced, in their declamation, at the hundreds if not thousands of professed servants of the Prince of Peace, enlisting North to cut the throats of their Southern brethren, when the storm shall have blown over, associate with men for whose blood they are now thirsting? Can such men have the Heaven-daring affrontery [sic] to stand before intelligent people in the future to urge the claims of Him who rules by love?

Should we ever meet them in the flesh, can we fraternize with them as brethren? How can the servants of the Lord of this section ever strike hands with the men who now seek their life’s blood? We do not know how this matter appears to others, but without thorough repentance, and abundant works demonstrating it, we cannot see how we can ever regard preachers who enforce political opinions by the sword, in any other light than monsters in intention, if not in very deed. How can Christian men of the South do otherwise? We may not understand the true spirit of Christianity, or we may be deranged, but if we have studied the Bible to any advantage and we are not mad, the world’s conflicts work out many important results. They prove that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth; they serve as fiery purifiers,–separating the dross from the pure metal; they fully expose false professions, and last, but not least, they aid the disciples of the Meek and Lowly One to exhibit a love for truth and righteousness, to which all others are strangers.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part XII)

The church in Murfreesboro was divided over the war. Previously Fanning had published a letter from Lillard, Harding and Ransome, and he had printed an article by “Disciple” who responded to that letter from within the same church. Fanning now feels compelled to comment on their exchange. He uses the occasion to clarify his position.

Fanning has every intent to obey civil authorities as long as he does not thereby disobey God. The present circumstances, he believes, has made it difficult “to tell who are Christians and who are not, or to define clearly the line between the church and the world” since so many professed disciples are compromised by their participation in “worldly powers.” It is not surprising, according to Fanning, that he is charged with disloyalty and thus “perverting the nation” because Jesus himself was so charged (Luke 23:2) “for maintaining that his kingdom was not of this world.”

Fanning, nevertheless, encourages discussion because “there is no subject of greater moment to Christians” than their relationship to “worldly powers.”

Fanning would not be able to continue that discussion, however, because mail service in the South was disrupted by the war. The Gospel Advocate would cease publication with the December 1861 issue but it would have a new birth in January 1866 under the editorship of Tolbert Fanning and his favored mentee David Lipscomb. At that year, Lipscomb would take up the challenge Fanning laid down in December 1861 and thoroughly study the subject of “worldly power.”  That series would ultimately issue in his book Civil Government. 

****Fanning’s Article****

Tolbert Fanning, “Subjection to Worldly Powers,” Gospel Advocate 7.12 (December 1861) 356-357.

Whilst we feel no disposition to interfere in the controversy of Brethren Lillard, Harding and Ransome with “Disciple,” we find ourself [sic] involved in so singular a manner, that we consider it proper and necessary to briefly notice a few points in the following article:

1st. We would willing suppress the names of our brethren, were we not satisfied that by publishing their communication from “Murfreesboro,” some might conclude that all the members of that congregation, entertain similar opinions, when we are conscious there are some who differ widely. We, however, feel responsible for the name of Disciple, and suggest to him that we would prefer giving it to any remarks he may desire to make. This is the only proper mode of procedure.

2d. Our reason for giving the remarks of Disciple without comment was, that we considered that there was no question of scripture involved. Disciple’s effort was to show the supposed inconsistency of our brethren, and no positive ground was taken by him.

3d. We are sorry to witness the effort of our brethren to place Disciple as well as ourself [sic] in a position we never occupied. Neither has Disciple or ourself [sic] intimated a doubt as to the Scriptures requiring disciples of Christ to live in subject to magistrates and any civil government in which their lot may be cast, so long as they are permitted to enjoy the liberties of the kingdom of God. Unfairness in representing those from whom we differ is not calculated to add to the honor of the Lord’s cause. While we doubt, not our brethren at Murfreesboro, as well as Disciple, are all loyal to Caesar, we see not the propriety of any of them becoming Caesar or of occupying his chair. Hence we find no authority for the charge that some of us oppose worldly governments for the world. We would respectfully suggest to our correspondents, that our controversy gives the strongest evidence that there is urgent necessity for us all to study the scriptures with more care. The times may not be the most favorable for examining the true characteristics of the spiritual kingdom in comparison with worldly institutions, but it strikes us the period may not be very far distant when the servants of God will look at the Bible and the church without the interference of the heavy and dark veil of worldly wisdom which has so long obscured the light of truth. Religious teachers must soon open a new chapter or desist from their profession. It would require one of some discrimination, judging from surroundings, to tell who are Christians and who are not, or to define clearly the line between the church and the world. When Jesus claimed to be head of a spiritual empire, the people said, “We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute unto Caesar.” (Luke xxiii, 2.) He was not only charged with disloyalty, but lost his life for maintaining that his kingdom was not of this world.

Will our brethren pardon us for requesting them to exercise a little more cautiousness in their wholesale charges of disloyalty to human authority, against their friends who perhaps may be as well read in the institutions of the world as themselves, and are as tenacious to respect all proper human authority as any men living. A little more time and patience, with a good degree of careful examination of the Sacred Oracles, we trust will bring us all to the full measure of the truth. We hope brethren L, H, and R. will continue to furnish us with their views. There is no subject of greater moment to Christians.

Tolbert Fanning — Advocate for Peace in 1861 (Part XIII)

In the last issue of the Gospel Advocate during the Civil War, December 1861, Fanning noted the death of an “old friend,” Pierce Butler Anderson. It is Fanning’s last comment on the Civil War until the Gospel Advocate was rebirthed in January 1866.

Fanning is gracious in reporting his death knowing “the Lord of all the earth will do right.”

P. B. Anderson (1806-1861) was the son of U. S. Senator Joseph Anderson (1757-1837). Joseph Anderson was the first senator from Tennessee sent to Washington, a lawyer who served eighteen years and then as the United States Treasurer from 1815 to 1836. He served in the American Revolution from the Battle of Monmouth in NJ through Valley Forge to the victory at Yorktown, and was discharged at the rank of Major. He served in the Tennessee House of Representatives from 1843-1847.

P. B. Anderson attended West Point with Jefferson Davis and Robert E. Lee. He resigned from the Point when he was permanently disabled by a bayonet through the wrist after three years at the institution. He returned to Tullahoma, TN, where he studied law as an apprentice. At the start of the Mexican-American War, he raised a volunteer company from Tennessee and participated in major engagements in Mexico. He practiced law but also taught mathematics at Franklin College for two years.

Joining the Confederate army on April 25, 1861, he raised a company of volunteers in Tennessee at the start of the Civil War, and then raised an artillery corp of 100 men.  He joined Robert E. Lee’s command in Western Virginia as a Captain. He died in the battle of Greenbrier on October 3, 1861.  He was killed when he mistook a Union advance line for a returning Confederate picket line and invited them into the Confederate trenches. He was killed immediately. He was 56 years old at his death and was buried in Tullahoma, Tennessee.

****Fanning’s Notice****

Tolbert Fanning, “A Brave Soldier of His Country Has Fallen,” Gospel Advocate 7.12 (December 1861) 364.

We learn from recent dispatches that our old friend and quondam brother, Pierce Butler Anderson, fell at a late battle in Western Virginia. He was educated at West Point, was for sometime a legislator of the State from McMinn, served bravely through the Mexican war, afterwards spent some two years as Professor of Mathematics in Franklin College; while with us submitted to the King of Zion, but soon afterwards, from bad health and other causes, retired to Tullahoma, where he led a quiet and perhaps not a very profitable life till the opening of the present civil war. He went to Virginia in Col. Turney’s regiment, soon after was appointed Captain of Artillery by Gen. Lee, and conducted himself as a soldier till he was called from earth.

He was a high-toned soldier, and were we superstitious we might conclude he had a presentiment of his fatal death. When he bade us farewell in Nashville, he said, with tears in his eyes, he would go to the war but never expected to return. The Lord of all the earth will do right. His will be the reward of an honored defender of his country. Our old friend has fought his last battle.

Zechariah 11:1-17 – Tale of Two Shepherds

The idyllic description of a restored (enlarged borders) and united (Judah and Ephraim reunited) Israel in Zechariah 10:4-12 under a peacemaking king (9:9-10) is shattered by an opening lament in Zechariah 11:1-3. The shepherds of Israel lament the destruction of the land of Lebanon and Bashan (or Gilead).

While some think the lament envisions the wailing of the nations whose lands were destroyed, it seems best to link Lebanon and Bashan in Zechariah 11:1-2 back to Lebanon and Gilead in Zechariah 10:10. Ephraim is promised land as an inheritance but now the shepherds (leaders; cf. Zech 10:1-3) of Israel lament the destruction of that promised land. The cedars are burned and fallen, the forests of Bashan are cut down, the rich pastures are destroyed and the lush Jordan thicket is devastated. The land has lost its value and has become uninhabitable. There is no inheritance. Israel’s leaders, therefore, lament.

Why do Israel’s shepherds lament when the previous message is filled with such hope, joy and promise? That is the tale of two shepherds which Zechariah narrates in Zechariah 11:4-17.

Zechariah, as Yahweh’s representative, becomes a shepherd over Israel, God’s flock. In fact, Zechariah enacts a story in his narrative. This enactment announces the reality of the situation from the divine perspective and it also anticipates future events.

Yahweh describes the situation in which he has called Zechariah to become a shepherd over Israel. Symbolically, Zechariah is taking on a royal task, the Davidic task. Zechariah assumes this role metaphorically or allegorically in order to announce God’s judgment on the situation.

Israel’s shepherds do not protect their flock but they sell them to buyers who slaughter them. They are motivated by profit. “Praise Yahweh, I am rich!” they say. Instead of protecting them, they send them to the slaughter. This may allude to earlier condemnations of economic injustice in Zechariah (7:9-10; 8:10) where neighbor abused neighbor for the sake of profit.

Whatever the case may be, God’s judgment has returned to Israel—he will no longer pity them or rescue them. Rather, God will “hand everyone over to his neighbor and his king.” God will give them over to their own devices, practices and self-destruction. The leaders of Israel will complete the slaughter of their own people. The “king” will oppress the land without relief.

Zechariah plays the role of a good king—perhaps symbolizing Zerubbabel—who pastures the flock compassionately as he cares for the oppressed among them. He uses the tools of a shepherd—two staffs (e.g., “rod and staff” in Psalm 23)—to care for the flock. One staff is called “Favor” and the other “Union.” The names are significant. The former typifies covenantal blessing while the latter refers to a pledge such as the land grants to the tribes of Israel (Joshua 17:5, 14; 19:9; Ezekiel 47:13). Boda (Haggai, Zechariah: NIV Application Commentary, 464) translates it “Inheritance.” The staffs, then, represent God’s protection (blessing) and gifts (land). Consequently, the good shepherd (Zechariah symbolically) is able to eliminate the corrupt shepherds (“three” is probably a symbolic number for totality or completeness).

But, just as God—the Shepherd of Israel—was often rejected by Israel, so this good shepherd (Zechariah/Zerubbabel) is rejected by the people. This resistance to God’s gracious blessing and covenant life wearies God and thus he rejects them and removes the good shepherd. Instead, he will let the consequences of their sins devour them as they destroy each other.

As a rejected shepherd over Israel, Zechariah performs three “sign-acts”—prophectic actions that symbolize or embody divine messages: (1) he breaks the “favor” staff (11:10), (2) he throws his payment into the temple (11:13), and (3) he breaks the “union” staff (11:14). Each of these acts reinforces the message—God has appointed an abusive shepherd over Israel in lieu of his good shepherd because the people rejected him.

First, he breaks the “Favor” staff which revoked the covenant God had made with the nations. This probably refers to God’s protection of Israel from the nations. God had destroyed Babylon and returned Judah to the land. But now God will no longer protect them from the nations. Thus, Israel will be continually oppressed by the nations in the post-exilic period.

Second, as a resigned leader, he asks for his wages. They paid him thirty pieces of “weighed” silver. The fact that he was not paid in coinage may indicate an early Persian date as coinage becomes more common in the middle Persian era. He was paid the price of a slave (cf. Exodus 21:32). He returns the insult by throwing the money into the temple treasury. The word “potter” can refer to metal workers (smelters) as well and silver workers in the temple may have been employed in some kind of idolatrous activity (so Boda). Both worked in the temple supplying vessels for the temple cultus. Consequently, the returned money may symbolize rejection of the temple leadership and activity.

Third, he breaks the “Union” staff which revoked, for the time being, God’s pledge to reunite Judah and Ephraim in the land. There would be no grand reunion at this time. Instead, the land itself would become a source of hostility and woe (as the lament indicates). Some see an anticipation of the role of the Samaritans in this sign-act who will occupy Ephriam’s land in the future.

Replacing the good shepherd (Zechariah/Zerubbabel) is a “foolish/worthless shepherd.” The term “fool,” reflecting the wisdom tradition, indicates a corrupt or immoral leader. God raises up or installs this leader in Israel as a way of giving the people what they want. And the corrupt leader does what corrupt leaders do—they devour the helpless and marginalized (Boda suggests “exhausted” is a better rendering than “healthy” in Zechariah 11:16). This shepherd abuses his flock rather than caring for them. He leads them to the slaughter.

Though God appointed him, Yahweh nevertheless issues a “woe” against the corrupt leader. This leader, who deserts his flock, will suffer the consequences of his own actions in blindness and disability. In other words, God will not leave this corrupt shepherd unjudged.

But what of Israel? The nations? And the land? What will become of God’s promises? Ah….Zechariah has yet another “oracle” (Zechariah 12-14).

While Zechariah (or whoever the writer is) describes a situation in his own time as corrupt leaders remove or supplant Zerubbabel (or whoever it may be), early Christians heard in this message a part of their own story. The despised shepherd is the rejected Messiah for whom leaders paid thirty pieces of silver (cf. Matthew 26:14-15; 27:6-10), the leaders detested him and Jesus spoke a word against the temple leadership of his day (cleansing of the temple; Mark 11:12-26), and the nations (Romans) oppressed the leaders. They saw the suffering Messiah in this text, but they also saw a triumphant Messiah in Zechariah 12-14.

David Lipscomb on God’s Role in Worldly Conflicts

In the second issue of the rebirthed Gospel Advocate in 1866, Lipscomb addresses the question of how God was or was not involved in the Civil War which ended eight months ago. He asks, “Does God Take Part in the Conflicts of the Kingdoms of this World?”  His answer, “Yes!”

God has a role in everything within the creation.God uses the nations to accomplish his purposes, including their bloody conflicts. God is a sovereign over the nations, including their wars.

While I have included the full article below, I wanted to highlight what Lipscomb says to his southern and northern friends.  Here is his advice:

We would say to our friends of the South then, their duty and interests are to submit quietly and cheerfully to the decision Providence has made in the fearful arbitrament of their own choosing. While taking this decision as a providential indication that God intends them not to run a race of political human nationality, let them accept it as a divine call to find labor and honor in a higher, holier, heavenly nationality. While it, to some extent, weans them from their undue affection for the worldly, may that affection be transferred and concentrated in the glorious and immortal Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Then, indeed, would the chastening rod prove a blessing, and the hour of humiliation be the moment of highest exaltation. To our friends of the North we say, “be not high-minded, but fear.” The self-sufficient spirit has ever been offensive to God.

*********Lipscomb’s  Article*****

David Lipscomb, “Does God Take Part in the Conflicts of the Kingdoms of this World?” Gospel Advocate 8.2 (9 January 1866) 22-24.

It is a question of interest with many, whether God, in his providence, takes part in, or in any manner overrules the strifes and conflicts in which people and nations frequently engage in the present age of the world. It is clear, from the teachings of the Bible, that in ancient days he directed and controlled the Jewish nation. He fought their battles for them when they obeyed and trusted him, withdrew his aid and overthrew them when their faith grew weak or they refused obedience to him. God’s dealings with the Jews were had, not alone for themselves, as Paul says but for us who should come after them. “Now these things were our examples, to the intent that we should not lust after evil things, as they also lusted.” “Neither let us tempt Christ as some of them also tempted and were destroyed of serpents—neither murmur ye as some of them murmured and were destroyed of the destroyer.” “Now all these things happened unto them for examples, and they are written for our admonition, upon whom are come the ends of the world.” 1 Cor. X, 6, 11. Yet no political government at the present day occupies the same relationship to God, that the Jewish did. It was the type, not of the political governments of the world, but of the Church of Jesus Christ. God deals with the church, not the nation, to-day, as he dealt with the Jews in the days gone by.

The Jews, the natural branches were broken off, through unbelief, and the believing Gentiles engrafted into their position. These teachings, admonitions, examples, &c., are instructive lessons to the church and to Christians, but whoever applies them to the governments and the unbelieving of earth, grossly perverts the scriptures of truth. We must seek for our example in some other institution than the Jewish nation. We may easily find these types in the human institutions of the ancients. The human governments of the present are the direct, legitimate descendants of the human governments of ancient times. The Kingdom of Babel, the first organized human government known either to sacred or profane history, founded by Nimrod, the grandson of ham, soon grew into the mighty Babylon, reigned as a hectoring tyrant over the weaker nations of the earth, that sprang into existence after its own example, rioted in sin and died weltering in the blood of its own subjects, leaving as the inheritor of its possessions, pretensions and wickedness, the Medo-Persian Empire, which inherited, too, its fate, as presented to us by Daniel in his interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. It soon gave way to the Grecian, an it, in turn, to the Roman; of which last, all the governments and nations of earth, are but the broken and severed fragments. Do we wish to learn then the nature, mission, and destiny of these earthly governments, the true position they occupy with reference to God and his church, together with the principles of God’s dealings with them, we must go to the record of his dealings with those ancient governments of human mould [sic]. No one certainly can doubt, but that he took cognizance of these wicked nations, and to a certain extent overruled their actions and destinies. He used them often to accomplish his purposes, not as his approved institutions, but as fitted for certain kinds of work. See Isaiah x, 5. “O, Assyrian the rod of mine anger, and the staff in their hand is mine indignation. I will send him against an hypocritical nation, and against the people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to take the prey and tot read them down like the mire of the streets. However, he meaneth not so, neither doth his heart think so, but it is in his heart to destroy and to cut off nations not a few.” Here we find it distinctly stated that God used th Assyrian government, to punish his own hypocritical nation, the Jewish people, who professed to obey him, yet did it not. Still he says that this Assyrian does it not with the view of honoring God, “he meaneth not so,” or for the purpose of punishing and so purifying his servants. In the 15th verse the prophet represented him as merely an instrument in the hands of God, yet has himself no idea of honoring God. “It is in his heart to destroy and cut off nations not a few.” From the 10th to the 19th verse, God’s punishment of this same Assyrian for his crimes in cherishing this wicked spirit, is plainly foretold. Again, Jeremiah xxv, tells how he uses Babylon, wicked, ambitious and blood-thirsty as she was, to destroy other wicked nations around, and to punish by captivity and slavery, his unfaithful children. In the 1st chapter, the prophet gives an account of the fearful day of reckoning with Babylon, for the blood-thirsty spirit, which God had not made, but simply overruled and directed. Thus we find God using and controlling the world—institutions of ancient times, as instruments for punishing his wicked children, destroying his enemies, and in turn destroying those he has thus used, with a fearful desolation. We find no intimation of a change of God’s course with reference to them, but rather that he still thus uses them, and will, to the end, Rev. xvii, 17. “For God hath put in their hearts to fulfill his will , and to agree and give their kingdom unto the beast, until the words of God shall be fulfilled.” It is no evidence then at all that one nation is more wicked or less approved of God than another, because in their conflicts the latter overcomes or overthrows the former. Babylon was not less odious in the sight of god than the world kingdoms which she destroyed, and especially was she not more approved and beloved than Judea whom she carried captive. The day of her reckoning had not come. Judea was punished, Babylon was destroyed. The Jews continue in a state of punishment to this day, but, doubtless, have yet a glorious future in store. Babylon is a howling waste, and her people have long been extinct. See Isaiah xxvii, 7.

We would say to our friends of the South then, their duty and interests are to submit quietly and cheerfully to the decision Providence has made in the fearful arbitrament of their own choosing. While taking this decision as a providential indication that God intends them not to run a race of political human nationality, let them accept it as a divine call to find labor and honor in a higher, holier, heavenly nationality. While it, to some extent, weans them from their undue affection for the worldly, may that affection be transferred and concentrated in the glorious and immortal Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Then, indeed, would the chastening rod prove a blessing, and the hour of humiliation be the moment of highest exaltation. To our friends of the North we say, “be not high-minded, but fear.” The self-sufficient spirit has ever been offensive to God.

The vindicative [sic], vengeful temper, even when overruled by God to the punishment of his enemies, always had meted to it a full, overflowing measure of its own dealings. “Recompense her according to her work, according to all that she hath done, do unto her.” Jeremiah iv, 29, was the fiat of God with reference to the nation he had called his own battle-axe “the hammer of his wrath.” Her king was even denominated “my servant,’ in punishing his enemies. Yet because he did these things not for the honor of God, but to gratify his own ambition and vindictiveness, and to promote his own earthly grandeur, God said, “recompense him according to all he hath done.”

Lipscomb on the Poor I

As the Gospel Advocate begins again in January 1866–this time as a weekly rather than a monthly–one of the constant emphases of the editors, particularly David Lipscomb, is the privileged position of the poor within the kingdom of God. No doubt this is contextualized by the economic and social conditions of the postbellum South, but it is also a principal thread of Lipscomb’s kingdom theology.

One of his first statements on the topic appears under the title, “Christ the Savior of the World” (GA 8 [20 February 1866] 124). Lipscomb wrote:

The sealing testimony in behalf of Jesus Christ being the Son of God is his own estimation, as divine to the disciples of John, was, ‘The poor have the gospel preached to them.” The world to-day needs this same sealing testimony, that it may believe that, Jesus is the Son of God. Every preacher that pretendedly, in the name of Jesus Christ, seeks the rich and the learned and the fashionable to preach to, instead of the poor and simple-hearted and unpretending, by that course nullifies the power of the great truth, that Jesus is the anointed one that was to come into the world to save the world. Such a preacher is no co-laborer with God; no true minister of Christ, but a servant of the wicked one in the livery of Heaven.

As one of among the rich, learned (at least by the standards that Lipscomb would think) and fashionable (though my daughters would disagree), this is a chilling reminder. Can I identify in my own ministry where I minister among the poor and advocate for the poor? It is a question we must all address and, hopefully, respond by joining Jesus in sharing good news with the poor.

Lipscomb on the Poor II

The February 27 issue of the 1866 Gospel Advocate contains two short blurbs by David Lipscomb about the poor (p. 141).  The first expresses his concern that the poor “should, above all others, feel at home in the church.” The second encourages believers to continually share with the poor.

This first blurb reminds us that our church buildings, our dress and our attitudes should be shaped by an incarnational posture that welcomes the poor. Do we create spaces, relationships and opportunities where the poor feel welcome? Given our upper middle class buildings and fashionable dress and expensive stuff, it is little wonder that the poor are generally uncomfortable. I don’t know exactly what to do about that, but here is a reminder from David Lipscomb.

The poor often feel backward in the church, because in the corruptions that wealth has brought into the church, it has been so changed that they cannot conform to its customs and they do not feel at home there. This is a wrong feeling. The church is the especial legacy of God to the poor of the earth. The poor then should, above all others, feel at home in the church. Should feel they had special privileges there above all others. It is the rich that are out of their element in Christ’s Church. They should feel the backwardness, not the poor.

The second blurb tackles the oft-heard retort that “the poor ye have with you always” as a potential excuse for less attention to the poor than we might otherwise give. Lipscomb does not believe this Jesus saying means less giving but more giving to the poor.

“The poor ye have with you always,” therefore give always and continually. The Christian must cultivate a disposition to give–must so school his heart to giving, that he realizes that “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Only then has he brought himself to the true Christian spirit.

The kingdom of God is for the poor; it is the rich who should not feel at home there. Wow!  That is quite a statement. It has some biblical roots in James 2, for example, as well as in the prophetic tradition.

Lipscomb’s statement should at least, it seems to me, remind us that while our American churches–for the most part–are oriented toward the middle class and rich, this is not the fundamental orientation of the kingdom of God within the narrative of Scripture.

Lipscomb on the Poor III

The situation in the South through 1866 and for several years thereafter was critical. The hungry, naked and homeless were present in overwhelming numbers. The War had devastated the country. I think this is one reason we see a constant stream of small blurbs from Lipscomb in the 1866 Gospel Advocate on the poor and the responsibility of Christians to share with others.

In addition, there is a not-so-subtle protest against wealthy religion and how it fosters something other than the kingdom of God. In the following two blurbs–both appearing on the same page (March 27, 1866, p. 205)–we see the two themes in juxtaposition.  The first is titled “Giving,” but the second is untitled.

The two seem related.  Lipscomb encourages a private, daily sharing of resources instead of a public, occasional large gift. The former arises out of a lifestyle but the latter arises out of a desire for reward. The former is the daily life of a Christian but the latter is more tuned to the formal religion with its love of a holy place that is “worldly.” The former practices the gospel in sharing with the poor but the latter practices the religion of building and forms.  I think this all sounds a bit too familiar.

Perhaps the two blurbs are not connected in Lipscomb’s own mind as they are in mine. See what you think.

It seems to me, as well, that there are hidden agendas in his words.  There is a class consciousness present (maybe even class envy?) as well as a latent sectionalism. The Civil War with its wealth and sectional dimensions still lies in the background. Moreover, one hears the plea for simplicity in life and worship as the key to faithful obedience to the will of God.

First blurb, “Giving”:

He who wants to be able to do a great amount of good before he does any, will die without benefitting his race.  ”Do good as opportunity offers,” is Heaven’s law. He who takes an interest only in doing good on a large scale, generally does it for the sake of display. He who does good for the sake of obeying God and benefitting the oppressed and afflicted, will relieve the wants of the needy in the quiet, humble, unobserved walks of life, wherever he may find them. Will avoid all ostentation and publicity in giving. The reason it is so much easier to raise means for a public charity than a private one, is because the greater portion of the human family wish to be seen of men in their giving, hence will give publicly when they refuse to add more needy and deserving private objects of charity. The true Christian acts not so. “When thou doest alms, let not they left hand know what thy right hand doeth; that thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father, who seeth in secret, himself shall reward thee openly.” God has never promised to reward alms that are done openly. We should not await to be able to give largely before we give. A pittance, a kind word, an encouraging smile, a cup of cold water, in the Master’s name, to the suffering, distressed, weary, faint-hearted children of misfortune and sorrow, comes in remembrance before God, and verily, has its reward.”

Second blurb:

A letter from Hannibal,Missouri, contains the following: “Brother Wilkes appeared at Palmyra for trial on Monday last, to answer to the charge brought against him, viz: Preaching the Gospel. The man who had sworn to the fact, did not appear, consequently the suit was dismissed. When he first informed against  Bro. Wilkes, he charged him simply with preaching. When asked what he preached, he replied the gospel. He was then asked, “What is the Gospel?” He frankly answered, he did not know.”

So it goes. Why is it that zealous religionists do not know what the Gospel of Christ is? Ask almost any one you meet, of any denomination, and you get no answer. Is it because the preachers are so indefinite in their discussions that is is impossible to learn? They are, then, blind leaders of the blind. The prevailing ignorance is almost lamentable. It is appears to be the popular feeling that anything will answer to save a sinner. A large house of worship, called a church, a grand organ, and music by a choir, rented pews, respectability, a handsome preacher, a soulless sermon, containing no [sic] one word of Scriptural instruction, a ritual unknown to the New Testament–performed by a  clerical dignitary, and an exclusive and selfish spirit, seem to satisfy the longings of such, and they are legion as love to worship? In “a worldly, holy place.” When will a dying world learn that the gospel itself, in its original simplicity and beauty, as found in the New Testament, is, alone, “the power of God under the salvation of every one that believes” and obeys it.

Lipscomb on the Poor IV

The bloody stress of the Civil War strained relationships between northern and southern members of the Stone-Campbell Movement to a breaking point. While sectional attitudes created tension as well as the diverse response to participation in the war, the gut-wrenching reality–as Lipscomb saw it–was that northern brethren were more interested in high-salaried preachers, worldly buildings and higher education than they were in feeding the hungry and clothing the naked among their southern brothers and sisters. This, perhaps more than most other strifes, created a gap between north and south in the postbellum era.

Lipscomb penned a brief but pointed article on “fellowship” which charged northern churches with indifference toward the suffering of the south. More than indifference, it charged that they had a preference for their own self-interests rather than “fellowship” with the south.

For Lipscomb, “fellowship” in this context was more than shared beliefs, it was benevolent action. It was not about agreed opinions or common “tenets of religion,” but a “mutual, kindly feeling and love one member of the body of Christ” has for another. While the north fretted about the potential loss of “fellowship” with the south, Lipscomb asked: “Now, brethren, what Christian fellowship really exists throughout the Churches of Christ?” What fellowship exists when southern disciples go hungry and starve? Where there is no “Christian beneficence,” there is no fellowship.

Based on his perceptions of how northern disciples had responded to his earlier pleas for help, he “naturally conclude[s] you have not much fellowship for us, when we are too poor to be of service to you.”

The text of the article is copied from Bobby Valentine’s contribution to Hans Rollmann’s Restoration Movement Lipscomb webpage. The article appears under the title “Fellowship” in the Gospel Advocate 8 (22 May 1866) 335-336.

Fellowship in ancient days referred not to an agreement in theories or tenets of religion, but to the mutual, kindly feeling and love one member of the body of Christ had for another. They exhibited their fellowship by aiding and helping one another with their substance and by deeds of good service to those in need. There seems to be a fear that the fellowship, so-called, of brethren North and South will be interrupted. Now, brethren, what Christian fellowship really exists throughout the Churches of Christ? An agreement in certain articles of faith and theories of religion? I doubt not that the demons and spirits of the wicked in hell have just as much fellowship as this. If we wish to have fellowship one with another, we must be willing to impart of our subsistence to aid those that are in suffering and need. Our brother writes that he has heard his children cry for bread, when he was not able to satisfy their hunger with bread. Another, “I with my family, have set down to our meals (?) with only potatoes and syrup (sorghum molasses) to eat.” These were worthy preaching brethren that wrote these things, not for publication, but in reply to questions propounded them as to their ability to devote their time to preaching. Now what benefit is it to these men, and thousands of others in their condition, to say we have fellowship for them, but never impart of our substance to relieve the hunger and nakedness of their families and themselves? The heartless selfishness of the age has corrupted and perverted the spirit of Christian beneficence so that professed Christians, we fear, give more with a view of attaining some ulterior selfish end than from a pure spirit of Christian fellowship. But all of our professions of love to God, all of our gifts by the thousand and tens of thousands for schools, meeting-houses, and such like, notwithstanding they may acquire for us great names with men, in the sight [p. 336] of God are but empty, hypocritical pretences, so long as we see our brethren have need and fail to relieve their necessities. If our brethren North wish to form and cement the bonds of lasting fellowship between themselves and their brethren South, the true, scriptural, effectual way is open and inviting. We appealed to you for relief for Bro. Smith, of Ga., a man of unexceptionable character in every respect, a man who has given thirty-six years of his life, almost at his own charges, to the cause of Christ, who, in his old age, with a large family of orphaned grand-children upon his hands, is impoverished by no wrong or imprudence of his. Our appeal was almost wholly in vain. We naturally conclude you have not much fellowship for us, when we are too poor to be of service to you. Bro. Smith’s necessities will, to some extent, at least, be supplied by our churches in Tennessee. We will subject the feelings of no more of our brethren to the unpleasant publicity to which we subjected his. But if any wish to exhibit true fellowship to their suffering brethren, we will give the names of such as need, on application.

Zechariah 12:1-8 — Jerusalem and the House of David Redeemed

Zechariah 12-14 is the second oracle of the second half of the book of Zechariah. The first half of Zechariah contained eight visions (Zechariah 1-6) and four messages (Zechariah 7-8). The second half of Zechariah comes in the form of two oracles (the Hebrew term only occurs in Zechariah 9:1, 12:1 and Malachi 1:1). The first (Zechariah 9-11) promised a restored Israel—both Judah and Ephraim—but delayed the promise due to the rejection of Yahweh’s appointed shepherd. The second oracle (Zechariah 12-14) envisions a bright future for Israel and uses apocalyptic (eschatological) language to describe the day when God will realize his promises for Israel.

Zechariah 12-14 falls into two halves with a transitional poem between them. The first half (Zechariah 12:2-13:6) describes the triumph of Israel in the wake of their mournful laments and their subsequent cleansing. The second half (Zechariah 14) envisions a day of rejoicing when even the nations of the earth will worship Yahweh and everything will be inscribed “Holy to Yahweh.” The transitional poem (Zechariah 13:7-9) celebrates the redemption of the remnant of Israel. Zechariah 12-14, then, narrates the final disposition of Israel in God’s eschatological agenda.

Structurally, Zechariah 12:1 functions as a superscription for the whole oracle containing a doxological or liturgical affirmation of Yahweh while the term “behold” (hinneh) identifies new sections. The language recalls the creative work of God, particularly in the Isaianic tradition (cf. Isaiah 42:5; 44:24; 45:12; 51:13): stretching out the heavens, laying the foundation of the earth, and forming the spirit of humanity within them. This liturgical memory underscores God’s universal claim upon the heavens and earth as well as upon all humanity (including the nations). Further, it emphasizes God’s ability to actualize what is promised concerning Israel. Moreover, and perhaps most significantly, the imagery shapes this new work of God which is the stretching, laying and forming of a new creation—a new humanity upon a new heavens and new earth in a new Jerusalem (cf. Isaiah 65:17ff). God is about to repeat his creative work which means redemption for Israel, the nations and the whole earth.

The Hebrew phrase, literally translated “and [it] shall be on that day…” occurs three times in Zechariah 12-13—at 12:3, 12:9 and 13:2. This is a structural device for the first half of the second oracle in Zechariah 9-14. The first half of the oracle is thereby divided into three messages: (1) the renewed status of Israel, particularly Judah, Jerusalem and the house of David (Zechariah 12:2-8); (2) the mourning of Israel over the pierced one (Zechariah 12:9-13:1); and (3) the cleansing of Israel from idolatry and false prophecy (Zechariah 13:2-6).

Zechariah 12:2 is a thematic or thesis sentence for the first movement within Zechariah 12-13. Judah and Jerusalem will be besieged by the nations but the nations will stagger from their encounter as a person drunk with wine. As the succeeding verses recount, this will be a “day,” that is, an eschatological or apocalyptic day. It is the vision of an ultimate future, the goal of God’s work in Israel. It is an “end-time” vision of the “day” of redemption.

On that day (12:3), Jerusalem will be an “immovable rock.” The nations will hit a brick wall. The nations are powerless before Jerusalem.

On that day (12:4-5), Yahweh will blind the horses and their riders from among the nations but will benevolently and graciously keep a watchful eye upon Judah. The leaders of Judah will recognize that Yahweh is the God of Jerusalem.

On that day (12:6-7), the leaders of Judah will consume the surrounding peoples like grass in a wildfire or a firepot deposited in a woodpile. Jerusalem will be safe. Yahweh will preserve the homes of Judah, the house of David and Jerusalem.

On that day (12:8), Yahweh will protect those who live in Jerusalem so that weakest will be as strong as David and the house of David like God. The Davidic promise, the assurance of king who will reign over Israel, is as certain as God is. Israel’s experience will be like the Exodus when the Angel of the Lord led them out of Egypt and into the promised land (Exodus 32:34; 33:2).

Israel will experience a new Exodus, a new creation; a new birth of freedom in the land God promised Abraham. Jerusalem is preserved, Judah is renewed and Israel once again lives in the land free from the oppression of the surrounding nations. This is the eschatological hope of Israel

Zechariah 12:10-13:1 — Mourning the Pierced One

The first section of Zechariah 12 (verses 2-8) promises Israel a new Exodus as the Angel of Yahweh will lead them into the safety of their land free from the oppression of the nations. This is the eschatological hope of Israel.

Zechariah 12:9 functions as a segway between this hopeful proclamation and the spiritual renewal of Israel. “On the day” that God purposes to destroy the nations hostile to Jerusalem, God will also rejuvenate Israel’s spiritual life through lamentation.

God will “pour out…a S(s)pirit of grace and supplication” upon the royal house of David and upon Jerusalem. This promise resonates with Joel (2:28-30) and Ezekiel (39:29) who also envisioned a time when God will pour out a gracious Spirit upon Israel. This is the renewal of Israel as they experience God’s grace and turn to God in supplication. The grace of God will turn the dynastic house of David and Jerusalem to Yahweh. God’s redemption will turn the hearts of Israel to their God.

Israel will respond to this gracious outpouring. They will mourn the one whom they pierced. The phrase containing the “pierced one” is notoriously difficult. Historically a Messianic text in both Jewish and Christian interpretation, the exact translation and its resultant meaning is problematic.

The text may read either that they will look “to” (ASV) or “on” (NIV) either “me” (NIV) or “him” (RSV; JB). The relative clause “whom they have pierced” may either refer to the one “upon” or  the one “to” whom they look (NASB) or to another whom they lament as they look to “me” (JPS). The difficulties are too complex to explain for the purposes of this post, but it is important to say something for the sake of understanding.

Yahweh is the speaker, and the traditional text reads that they (the house of David and Jerusalem) will look to or upon Yahweh (“me”). If this is the correct reading, Israel—by the grace of God—has been reoriented toward Yahweh as they look to their God for redemption. It is possible, however, that “me” should read “him” (as some Hebrew MSS do). Either way, the pierced one is either Yahweh or Yahweh’s servant (martyr).

The occasion for this reorientation is lament. Israel laments the pierced one. Is the “pierced one” Yahweh? If so, it is a metaphorical expression in Zechariah for the pain which Israel caused Yahweh. But the Hebrew may mean that Israel looks to Yahweh concerning the “pierced one,” that is, they mourn the pierced one whom Yahweh sent. Again, either way, the “pierced one” is the object of mourning.

Early Christians, as in John 19:37 and Revelation 1:7, identified the “pierced one” as Jesus. The Gospel of John associates this piercing with the thrust of the spear into the side of Jesus as the nations (Roman soldiers) and Jewish leaders (chief priests and rulers) watched. Revelation 1:7 applies this text—in combination with Daniel 7:13—in an eschatological context. When Jesus returns—when every eye will see him—“those who pierced him” will also see him and “all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him.”

The New Testament, then, applies Zechariah 12:10 in two contexts: (1) the crucifixion of Jesus itself and (2) the eschatological return of Jesus. Everyone, not just Israel, will see the pierced one, and everyone, not just Israel, will mourn. In both cases Jesus is the “pierced” servant of Yahweh. Though the nations and Israel—everyone–looked upon his death with satisfaction, in the eschatological day of which Zechariah and Revelation speak they will mourn that same piercing. All the earth will recognize Jesus as the servant of Yahweh.

In the light of this piercing, Israel, according to Zechariah, will mourn. It will be a boundless mourning like morning for your “firstborn,” but even more like mourning for your only child. The language of “firstborn” echoes the Exodus narrative (and also anticipates Jesus as Yahweh’s firstborn), but also reminds us that Israel is Yahweh’s firstborn. But more pointedly, to mourn one’s only child is to mourn the loss of one’s family lineage. It is to mourn the loss of the family’s future.

That mourning is described as similar to the practice of a pagan lamentation well-known to Israel. Hadad is the Aramaic version of the storm God, Baal. Syria’s (Aram) rulers were often named after this God who first appears in the Gilgamesh Epic. Apparently, there was a well-known lamentation ritual practiced at Megiddo which would parallel the kind of mourning Israel would experience in the light of the pierced one. (Some think this lamentation actually refers back to the death of Josiah at Megiddo which ended the hopes that Israel might yet avoid exile, and his death was still lamented in the postexilic period; cf. 2 Chronicles 35:25.)

The whole of Israel—the whole land, including wives—will mourn. More specifically, the houses of David (royal dynasty), Nathan (prophets), Levi (priests) and Shimei will mourn. Why are these mentioned? These are the houses associated with the coronation of Solomon (cf. Dean R. Ulrich, WTJ 72 [2010] 251-265). The house of David had not faired well since the accession of Solomon. The royal house of David, and consequently involving the temple and Jerusalem, became a covenant-breaker; it degenerated into faithlessness. But now those institutions, on the day God pours out redemption upon Israel, will mourn the one they pierced and turn again to Yahweh in faith and covenant loyalty.

“On that day” (13:1), the day of repentance and mourning, a cleansing fountain will flow over the house of David and Jerusalem for the forgiveness of their sins. God will forgive and cleanse Israel from sin.

The promised renewal in Zechariah 12:2-8 will usher in a time of general repentance, cleansing and forgiveness. It is the reconciliation of Israel with their God. Israel will, on that day, mourn the piercing of Yahweh’s servant. Their lament will also signify their redemption. God will remember the promise to Israel.

Lipscomb on the Poor V

The 1866 Gospel Advocate, the year its rebirth after the Civil War, is filled with notices about sharing resources with the poor and encouragement for churches both north and south to do so. Apparently, the Advocate was accused by some of controlling these resources as they came to Nashville for distribution as if the paper was a functioning benevolent society, but Lipscomb strongly rejected that libel. Rather, the Advocate was only one communication tool among others for churches to connect with each other and while the Advocate was happy to help, it was more important for one church to directly “fellowship” another church.

Lipscomb was concerned to maintain the rightful function of the church. The relief of the poor “is the true, holy, Godlike work of the church. This is the work for which the  church was established, and if it fail to do the work for which it was established, it had as well dissolve its organization and cease to be.”

This work of the church, according to Lipscomb, is the ministry of Jesus Christ. It was the work Jesus did and Jesus “personifie[s] himself in his poor brethren.” If the church does not minister to the poor, then “it can never enjoy the blessings of God.”

Below is the full article entitled “Dispensing Christian Fellowship,” Gospel Advocate 8 (24 July 1866) 478-79.

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We have received contributions from one church at least, for needy preachers, accompanied by the suggestion that a part of it should be applied to the relief of a brother within reach of that congregation. Now it is eminently proper that that congregation should aid that brother, but there is no sense in sending that aid to the Gospel Advocate. The Gospel Advocate, nor either of its editors, has proposed to become disbursing agents for any church. We being in constant communication with the brethren South, simply proposed to forward the contributions of those not favorably situated for doing so themselves, to those in need. There are brethren in Middle Tennessee in need, and the churches should supply their wants, but do not send the means for so doing to us. We have made no effort to post ourselves in reference to the brethren in Middle Tennessee, and are as little competent to judge of their necessities as any one that could be found. We have confidence the churches will attend to the wants of those in necessity in their midst. Except in a few well known instances we have not ourselves applied what we have sent  South. Our object has been to find the members, elders of the congregations in the different desolate sections  South, best suited to distribute to the needy, and have sent to them. So that it goes as true fellowship should go, as the contribution of the Churches of Christ, to the Churches of Christ in need. Our instruction has been to remember first the wants of the preacher, so as to enable him to preach as much as possible; secondly, the impoverished widow, orphan and poor of the church, and, lastly, the suffering of the world. But in all cases it must be given as the offering of Christian fellowship to the churches South for the relief of their poor widows and orphans, and those of their vicinity. We have the fullest assurance and confidence that every dollar will be faithfully and worthily distributed, and we would earnestly urge Christians to increased activity in administering to the relief of the poor. It is the true, holy, Godlike work of the church. This is the work for which the church was established, and if it fail to do the work for which it was established, it had as well dissolve its organization and cease to be. The church must be educated to the true appreciation of its proper work, and the solemn obligation that rests upon it to perform that work, or it can never enjoy the blessings of God. Jesus Christ personified himself in his poor brethren. He stands to-day personified in the gaunt and hollow face, sunken eye, and half-clad emaciated form of widowed mothers and hungry, starving children in the South. If Christians fail to relieve their wants, no matter whether we or they believe in societies or not, and no matte whether their sympathies were Northern or Southern, the stern truth will one day meet them, “Inasmuch as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into everlasting life.”

Lipscomb on the Poor VI

“Send bread now, brethren, and afterward the Bibles and preachers,” David Lipscomb (1866).

I’ve often heard and said that people won’t care what you say until they know you care.  I think the following small blurb by Lipscomb reflects that principle.

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David Lipscomb, “Fellowship,” Gospel Advocate 9 (June 1867) 476.

[After listing a number of gifts from Texas, Missouri, Kentucky, Arkansas and Tennessee, Lipscomb writes:] Bro. J. K. Rogers, the efficient Principal of the Christian Female College, Columbia, MO., says: “I still have in my hands an amount of money for the South. Had I better send Bibles or Bread?”  Our response is, as highly as we appreciate the Bible, and its necessity to the temporal and spiritual well-being of man, a loaf of bread to-day, in the name of Christ, would do more in opening the hearts of our Southern people to the reception of the gospel than any number of Bibles, tracts or preachers? Send bread now, brethren, and afterward the Bibles and preachers.”

Lipscomb on Giving Caesar His Due (Mark 12:13-17)

Yesterday I posted on Mark 12:13-17 where jesus encounters the “Caesar tax” question as part of my regular blogging on my Sunday morning Bible Class.  It was not an agenda piece but rather part of working through the text of Mark as I understand it.

My views, however, are generally similar to those of David Lipscomb. He reads Jesus’s comment as essentially saying, “pay your tax, but you are not children or servants of the earthly governments.” Or, pay your tax, but you (and everything–including what Caesar thinks is his) belong to God. In other words, pay the tax as part of the situation in which you live “in” this world but you are not “of” this world. Give to Caesar what is necessary as part of living under Roman rule but do not think that the world belongs to Caesar or that you thereby belong to Caesar. Rather, you belong to God and only to God is your allegiance owed. Disciples of Jesus owe no allegiance to Caesar (or any national state).

While C. P. Alexander argued that Jesus was subtly saying “don’t pay the tax” because their allegiance is to God rather than to Caesar, Lipscomb believes that Jesus authorizes payment of the tax. However, the rationale is not because it is owed to Caesar as a matter of allegiance but rather that it is submission to God’s ordained arrangement. In other words, we pay taxes because we are kingdom people who live in peace with their neighbors, including governments.

Below is his comment on an article by C. P. Alexander entitled “Christians Duty to Civil Government” in the Gospel Advocate 15 (23 January 1873), 77-81.  Lipscomb’s comments on the article are found on pages 81-82.

Fully agreeing with our brother that Bro. P[inkerton]‘s [GA (November 1872)] conclusion cannot be legitimately drawn from his premises [e.g., two-kingdom theory or dual citizenship, JMH]; and indeed from no passage or example of Scripture; we yet feel under the necessity of dissenting somewhat from some points of our brother.

We understand with Bro. P. that the Savior did teach in the reference to the image on the money the necessity of paying taxes or tribute. We are confirmed in this interpretation from the perfect harmony of the example and other teachings of the Savior and the apostles with this interpretation. We are to pay taxes, Rom. 13, to the civil government under which we live, as a duty we owe to God, a Christian duty–because God commands it, not from a principle of fealty or homage to the civil government. God ordained this much as necessary in order to the peace and quiet of his children.

Submission to the authorities under which we live, is certainly taught us in various passages of Scripture. That submission involves the duty of paying taxes and doing everything required by civil government that is not incompatible with the principles and practices of Jesus Christ. To refuse to pay taxes by evasion or otherwise then, is a refusal to obey God. Justin Martyr affirms in his apology to Trajan the emperor “of all men we pay taxes most faithfully.”

But Bro. P. in my estimation fails to distinguish between submission to a thing and active participation in it. The Bible teaches submission. It does not teach the propriety of active participation. As we regard it, it wholly prohibits it. Indeed in the strict proprieties of language we can hardly be said to submit to that in which we actively and heartily cooperate and participate, into which our sympathies and feelings fully enter. Submission bears the idea of coming under something separate and apart from us. It carries the idea of something upon us that is not agreeable, in harmony with us, that is onerous or burdensom to us. We feel sure too that God has given no license or authority to his subjects in this or any other passage of Scripture to participate in the management of these institutions. No better explanation has ever been given of this saying of the Savior than that offered by Tertullian, in the 2nd century. Give the money that bears Caesar’s image to Caesar–the man which bears God’s image to God. If both money and men be given to Caesar what is left to God? The early Christians all refrained from active participation in civil government. But few of those who protested against Romanism permitted their members to do so until the 15th century. The reformers brought with them this idea from Rome and the Protestant sects adopt it.

Nor do we think Bro. P. on proper consideration, will say the family, originated and perpetuated by God himself, for his own children, bears the same relation to the church that human governments do–which were instituted by man, had their origin among those in rebellion against God, and have been ordained by God in the sense that he ordains instrumentalities to punish those who reject his appointments and seek others of their own liking. But we intended only to dissent from Bro. A’s position on taxation which seems to be rather extreme and which might bring reproach upon the truth.

The great danger is in running to extremes. Like Bro. A. we have no faith in the purity, spirituality and unfaltering zeal of the church, until its members divorce themselves from all attachment to these institutions, free themselves from their spirit, and rely immediately on God’s ability and willingness to confer all good through his own institutions.

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Below is his comment in Civil Government (pp. 65-66) on the episode.

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No clearer evidence could be furnished that it was well understood by the enemies as well as the friends of Christ, that his mission was to destroy the governments of earth than the record, Matt. xxii: 15, Mark xii: 14, Luke xx: 20. Knowing this they sought to commit him against the lawfulness of giving tribute to Caesar and thus find ground for accusation to secure his condemnation.

“Then went the Pharisees and took counsel against him how they might entangle him in his talk, and they sent unto him the lawyers with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know thou art true and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man, for thou regardest not the person of man. Tell us therefore, what thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not? But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites? Show me the tribute money, and they brought him a penny. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Caesar’s. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s. When they heard these words, they marvelled, and left him and went their way.”

This clearly shows that it was well understood that Christ was to destroy the kingdoms of earth. These lawyers under the guise of friendship sought to entrap him into expressions that would convict him of treason, that they might secure his condemnation. He not only thwarted their purpose, but taught the lesson in an empathic way of the Christian’s duty to human kingdoms. Tertullian, who was probably born within a half century after the death of the apostle John, gives this explanation of this saying of the Savior:

“The image of Caesar which is on the coin is to be given to Caesar, and the image of God which is in man is to be given to God. Therefore thou must indeed give thy money to Caesar, but thyself to God, for what will remain to God if all be given to Caesar?”

No better explanation has ever been given of the Savior’s words. It teaches what the Savior taught: pay your tax, but you are not children or servants of the earthly governments. Give your personal service and your bodily powers to God. Tertullian not only gives this as the meaning of the Savior, but he shows what was the prevailing impression of the teaching of the Savior and the apostles, within the first century after the establishment of the church. These ideas must have come down from the days of the apostles. They could not have originated after the church found favor with the civil power.

Mark 11:27-33 — The Question!

On Monday of Passion Week, Jesus entered the temple’s courts and prevented the normal merchandising that turned God’s “house of prayer for all nations” into a “den of robbers.” In other words, Jesus cleansed the temple just as earlier prophets had acted out symbols to embody their message. Jesus judged the temple authorities and their practices by his actions, also symbolized by the cursing the fig tree.

On Tuesday of Passion Week, Jesus encounters opposition from temple and religious leaders as he taught the people in the temple courts. Jesus’s temple cleansing had enraged the authorities and they had begun “to look for a way to kill him” (Mark 11:18).

Jesus spent Tuesday in the temple courts—walking, teaching, and watching. His presence was not ignored. Rather, the temple authorities and religious leaders—one group after another—confronted him, tested him and hoped to catch him in some trap which would expedite his death. Mark highlights these successive attempts by moving from one to the other without any narrative break. Mark 11:27-12:44 is a series of seven controversial encounters between the kingdom of God and the ruling temple authorities and their practices.

1.  “By what authority are you doing these things?” (Mark 11:28)
2. “The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone.” (Mark 12:11)
3. “Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” (Mark 12:14)
4. “At the resurrection whose wife will she be?” (Mark 12:23)
5. “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” (Mark 12:28)
6. “How is it that the teachers of the law say that the Christ is the son of David?” (Mark 12:35).
7. “This poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the rest” (Mark 12:42).

These confrontations between Jesus and the religious leaders are nestled between the cursing of the fig tree which represents Israel (Mark 11) and the private discussion with his disciples concerning the destruction of Jerusalem (Mark 13). The confrontations themselves provide reasons for divine judgment against Israel’s leaders and thus with consequences for Israel itself, just as the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah had done in the past. Each of the exchanges represents some aspect of Israel (more specifically, the leaders with consequences for the people) which comes under divine judgment but at the same time illuminates the path of the kingdom of God.

1. Israel rejected the authority of God’s messengers.
2. Israel rejected the stone which God had chosen.
3. Israel divided its allegiance between Caesar and God.
4. Israel lost hope in God’s power over life and death.
5. Israel failed to love God and neighbor more than burnt offerings and temple sacrifices.
6. Israel had false expectations of the Messiah.
7. Israel relished wealth and did not honor the poor (widows).

The first confrontation sets both the tone and the context for the other exchanges between Jesus and the Jewish leaders. The question they raise is central: “By what authority are you doing these things?”

What things? We would certainly include the cleansing of the temple the previous day, but there is more that is untold. We might surmise from the succeeding confrontations the sorts of “things” the leaders had in mind. They valued their wealth and favored status; they loved their power and the praise of their constituencies. They compromised with Caesar and solidified their power by distancing themselves from Messianic hopes.

The message of Jesus is the kingdom of God. Israel was supposed to flourish as that kingdom, but it—in the persons of its leaders—had rejected John the Baptist’s prophetic message of repentance. John came to prepare Israel for the coming of the kingdom through repentance, but the “chief priests, teachers of the law and the elders” refused to repent. They did not see the contrast between their present reign and the reign of the kingdom of God.

The authority of the kingdom of God—in the person of Jesus—threatened their authority. The message of the kingdom of God undermined their understanding of what it meant to reign as God’s leaders among the people. Consequently, they could not acknowledge John and now they had to kill Jesus, just as John himself was martyred for the sake of the kingdom.

Jesus, of course, does not answer their question except by implying that the answer to his question is the answer to their question. Jesus was commissioned by the same authority that John was. They are both prophets sent from God.

Jesus stumped them because they were unwilling to acknowledge John’s authority lest they hear the call to repent, but they were also unwilling to deny it because the people honored John as a prophet.

Jesus does not deny he has authority. Indeed, he implicitly asserts it. Moreover, the previous day he had acted on that authority by cleansing the temple. He simply refuses to justify his authority to those who not only would not believe what he says but who are only interested in some pretense for executing him. Jesus exercises the authority of the kingdom of God against the authority of the temple priests and rulers who live in shocking compromise with Roman authorities.

This exchange begins a series of confrontations that will ultimately lead to his arrest, trial and execution. But at the same time these exchanges reveal the just judgment of God against the ruling authorities in Jerusalem. The drama that will lead to the cross is now fully in play.

Mark 12:1-12 — The Contested Vineyard

The Parable of the Tenants is the second in a series of seven confrontations between Jesus and Jewish leaders. Jesus had entered Jerusalem as a triumphant messianic figure, cleansed the temple, and was now walking the temple courts as a rabbi (teacher) with a large following. The temple leaders could not allow this presumption to go unchallenged as it threatened their own authority. Their first question for Jesus reflects their defensiveness: “by what authority are you doing these things?” (11:28). The issue is authority.

The Parable of the Talents is Jesus’s response to the concerns of the temple leaders. He spoke the parable “to them,” that is, to “the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders” (11:27). The parable, then, is about the authority of the Jewish leadership, that is, the temple authorities (including the Sanhedrin). This is a critical point in understanding to whom the parable applies (12:9).

Another significant element that characterizes this parable is how it echoes the parable of Isaiah 5:1-7. Like this parable, Isaiah’s parable was a judgment parable. Israel is pictured as a vineyard which God (the owner) had planted, tended and protected. However, the vineyard failed to yield the fruit of righteousness. Instead, Israel had pursued violence (5:7), unjust wealth (5:8-12) and injustice (5:7, 22-23). Isaiah’s parable, like this one in Mark 12, is directed primarily at wealthy leaders, and it judges their evil.

The parable assumes a common socio-economic arrangement in Palestine. Landowners would often rent their lands to workers for a share of the profits produced by the crop. This owner built a wall, dug a winepress and built a watchtower. The owner provided everything necessary for the production of wine from this vineyard. The renters worked the field and enjoyed the fruits of their labors. At the end of the harvest, the absentee owner, as was common in Palestine, would send a servant or steward to collect the owner’s share of the profit.

In this case, however, the servants were mistreated—some beaten, some killed. The point is clear. Yahweh sent prophet after prophet to Israel over the centuries to carry a word from the Lord. Often the prophets were rejected, mistreated and some were killed. The leaders of Israel—the kings, false prophets and the wealthy—refused to hear the word of the Lord. As a consequence, as with Isaiah 5:13, Israel experienced judgment in the form of exile. And this trend had not changed in first century Palestine. The leaders of Israel refused to recognize the authority and message of John the Baptist and John was killed by the Herod Antipas. It is important to note that the Herodians are one of the groups involved in this series of confrontations (cf. Mark 12:13).

The parable reaches its climax when the owner decides to send his beloved son. The term “beloved” is the same as we find in Mark 1:11 at the baptism of Jesus and in Mark 9:7 at the transfiguration of Jesus. Mark’s narrative clearly identifies this son with Jesus, that is, Jesus the Son of God (the owner). He is no mere prophet but a son.

It may seem difficult to imagine why the tenants would think they could kill the son and inherit the land. There was a Palestinian practice of “ownerless land.” They probably assumed the father was dead because the son appeared to collect the profits and reasoned among themselves that if the son were dead then the property would be ownerless. When land is ownerless it becomes the property of those who live on it. Consequently, while their actions are certainly unjust, their actions are nevertheless calculated.

Jesus concludes the parable with a question which is not unusual except that Jesus actually answers his own question. The owner will “come and kill” the tenants. The owner will execute a just judgment much like God did in Isaiah 5. But more is said than this.

Jesus said that the owner will “give the vineyard to others.” Who are these “others?” Some suggest Jesus is referring to how the “church” (including Gentiles) will replace “Israel” in a kind of successionism (perhaps how Matthew interprets it in Matthew 21:43). But this is foreign to Mark’s context and does not fit the backdrop of Isaiah 5. Further, the church does not replace Israel but is, according to Paul, grafted into Israel (Romans 11).

Rather, it seems more appropriate to read this as a judgment against the temple authorities and leaders in Jerusalem. God will replace them and a new leadership will emerge. God will destroy the temple, as Mark 13 predicts, and the temple authorities will be judged. The new leadership is the reign of the kingdom of God through Jesus who is the eschatological Son of Man. The royal house of David, in the person of Jesus, will reign again in Jerusalem through the church but also in the new heaven and new earth. Mark does not specify any particulars at this point, but it is clear that the present temple authorities are judged and the “others” are a new leadership which serves the Father and honors the Son.

The quotation of Psalm 118 confirms this reading. The quote functions as a hermeneutical key and Jesus calls attention to this by asking: “Haven’t you read this scripture?” When Jesus triumphantly entered Jerusalem, the crowd hailed the coming of Jesus with the words of Psalm 118:26: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Jesus is the presence of the triumphant king celebrated in Psalm 118.

The triumphant king of Psalm 118, however, was also one who experienced distress and rejection. His enemies (nations) surrounded him, “swarmed around [him] like bees,” and he was about to die (Psalm 118:10-12, 17-18). Though rejected, the Lord chose him, gave him victory and through him saved Israel.

This is the story of Jesus as well. Rejected by the temple authorities, he will be subjected to beatings and death. But God has chosen this rejected stone to become the “capstone”—perhaps even the capstone of a new temple as Jesus becomes the foundation of a renewed Israel, the people of God. As Jesus has predicted on three different occasions in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus will be killed but God will raise him from the dead.

The “chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders” understood his point. They recognized that they were the targets of this parable. Their intentions were deepened—they wanted to arrest Jesus in order to execute him (Mark 11:18). But they were unable to do act because they were afraid of the crowd which, presumably, was sympathetic to Jesus. They would have to wait for a more private occasion to arrest Jesus (cf. Mark 14:1-2).

Just as first exchange between Jesus and the temple authorities was focused on authority, so was this one. Authority, in this context, is not simply the authority to teach or an authorized agent. The meaning is fuller than that. This is also about political authority—it is the authority to rule or reign.

Whose temple is this? To whom does authority belong? The Son has come to exercise authority over this people who belong to Yahweh. It is the authority of the kingdom of God that trumps the authority of the temple leaders. The kingdom of God, in the person of Jesus, has come to the temple. God, in the person of Jesus, has come to the temple to judge its leaders.

And the leaders—as is normal for political authorities—do not like it. They turn to their most basic solution. It is what nation-states do. They use violence. They will execute their opponent. They only have to wait for the right opportunity.

The parable raises a question for readers: to whom does your allegiance belong? Is not the kingdom of God a matter of exclusive allegiance?

Zechariah 13:2-6 – Impurity Removed

“On that day” God will defeat the nations that assail Jerusalem (Zechariah 12:3-8).

“On that day” God will grace Israel with the ability to mourn the one they pierced (Zechariah 12:9-13:1).

“On that day” God will cleanse the land from idols and false prophets (Zechariah 13:2-6).

This is the eschatological hope of Israel. It envisions a time when God liberates Israel from the oppression of the nations, when Israel will mourn the pierced one, and when God will purify Israel. This happens at God’s initiative, by God’s grace and through God’s power.

Why was Yahweh’s servant pierced? This third message (Zechariah 13:2-6) in the first half of Zechariah’s oracle (Zechariah 12-14) provides an answer. Israel was impure due to idolatry and false prophets. Their idolatry and lying prophets led to the execution of Yahweh’s servant. Zechariah 10:1-3 also connected idolatry and false prophecy in the allusion to divination. Israel trusted its own prognosticators and the “spirit of impurity.”

It is important to note the contrast between the Spirit of God poured out upon Israel in Zechariah 12:10 and the “spirit of impurity” present in the land. This spirit is the role of lying prophets within Israel. This is not the end of prophecy in Israel—as if God will remove all prophets. Rather, it is the removal of the false prophets who are associated with idolatry. The severity of this judgment is highlighted by the death penalty. This echoes Deuteronomy’s instructions about how to treat false prophet (Deuteronomy 13:5). The cleansing will be so thorough and the obedience of Israel so devout that even parents will “stab” their child and put them to death for their false prophecies.

Why does Zechariah use this imagery? The clue is found in the verb “stab” which is the same verb for “pierced” in Zechariah 12:10. Just as the people “pierced” the servant of Yahweh, so parents will “pierce” their own children who are the servants (prophets) of idols. This is the language of reversal. Where God’s servant was once judged and executed, now the prophets hostile to God will be judged and executed (cf. Numbers 25:8 as well).

On that day, no one will want to be identified with those prophets. The false prophets will try to hide from this judgment. They will remove their prophetic garb (such as Elijah wore, 2 Kings 1:8) and deny their prophetic vocation by claiming they are farmers (an echo of Amos’ protestation, Amos 7:14), but they will be found out. Their “wounds” will tell the story. Idolatrous rituals often included self-inflicted wounds (as 1 Kings 18:28 illustrates). The point is that false prophets are so thoroughly judged that no one will want to participate in their activities or claim their status.

Reading this text through a Christian lens, we see God’s initiative to cleanse Israel in the light of their repentance (mourning) regarding the “pierced” one. God pours out the Spirit to accomplish this reality and turn the people away from idols. Christians hear this text in the light of Pentecost as Israel begins to mourn the “pierced” one. At the same time, the eschatological reality has not yet fully appeared. Idolatry has not yet been fully eradicated from Israel and humanity as a whole. Zechariah’s vision has not yet been fully realized.

Israel, and the nations, yet live in hope and await the day when God will cleanse Israel, the land and the whole earth from idolatry and lying prophets. God will yet again reign in Jerusalem through the house of David.

Zechariah 13:7-9 – Strike the Shepherd!

This poem climaxes the message of Zechariah 12:2-13:6. The voice of God announces judgment and mercy; Yahweh speaks into the situation. The shepherd and people of Israel, Yahweh says, will experience judgment but a remnant will emerge from the refining fire.

Zechariah 9-14 has already used shepherd imagery. Israel’s shepherds (leaders) have led their people into idolatry (Zechariah 10:1-3) and merchandized their flock for their own self-interest (Zechariah 11:4-6). Israel rejected a good shepherd who resigned (Zechariah 11:7-16). Israel’s shepherd is “worthless” and the prophet pronounced a poetic woe against him: “May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!” (Zechariah 11:17).

Just as the second half of the first oracle ended with a woe against the “worthless shepherd,” so the first half of the second oracle ends with a poetic woe against “my shepherd.” God commands the “sword,” also invoked in the first poem (Zechariah 11:17), to (1) awake and (2) strike the shepherd. Clearly, this is a violent act (cf. 2 Samuel 23:18; Isaiah 123:17; Jeremiah 50:9). This appears as an act of judgment parallel to the judgment of the “worthless shepherd” earlier.

However, this shepherd is closely associated with Yahweh who calls him “my shepherd…who is close to me.” The language of “close” is only used elsewhere in Leviticus and designates a neighbor or fellow-Israelite (cf. Leviticus 6:2; 25:14, 15). Given the emphasis to the house of David in Zechariah 12 and the leadership issues present throughout Zechariah 9-14, this probably refers to Yahweh’s chosen servant from the house of David. Yahweh has a covenantal relationship with this shepherd and, therefore, is “close.”

Yet, this shepherd is struck with the sword and his flock is scattered. It seems most appropriate, in the context of Zechariah 9-14, to read this “striking” as judgment and thus this shepherd is identified with the “worthless” shepherd in Zechariah 11:17. The judgment includes the people as well since they are scattered and the “little ones” experience the “hand” of God (cf. Amos 1:8; Isaiah 1:25). The scattering, as sheep do without a leader, is an obvious metaphor for the exile (cf. Ezekiel 34:5, 6, 12, 21).

The result of this judgment is that two-thirds of Israel will be “cut off” (“cut down” or perish) and die. Just as God “cut off” the idols in Zechariah 13:2, so God will “cut off” the majority of Israel in judgment. But one-third will remain in the land, that is, they will live.

There will be a remnant. God will not utterly destroy Israel; she shall live and not die. God will refine and test the remnant (cf. Psalm 17:3; 66:10; Jeremiah 9:7). This process will purify Israel and through it they will again learn to “call” on the name of God. In other words, the covenant between Yahweh and Israel is renewed. God again claims Israel: “They are my people.” And Israel will again confess, “Yahweh is our God.” This is the grand covenantal theme of the Hebrew Scriptures (cf. Jeremiah 24:7; 31:33; Ezekiel 37:23, 27; Hosea 2:23; Zechariah 8:8). It is a theme that finds its ultimate fulfillment in the eschatological reality of the new heaven and new earth (Revelation 21:1-5).

Contextually, the shepherd is judged, but early Christians read this text in the light of Jesus. Both Matthew (26:31-32) and Mark (14:27-28) place Zechariah 13:7b on the lips of Jesus who reads it through his own context. “Striking the shepherd” refers to the cross while the “scattering” refers to the response of the disciples to his suffering. The disciples will “fall away” because Jesus is arrested and goes to the cross. The synoptic writers, especially Matthew, envision a mini-exile as the disciples scattered but then gathered again in Galilee as the beginning of new community (a renewed Israel).

It appears that Jesus recognizes that the situation in Zechariah parallels his in some way. Both shepherds are killed and their flocks are scattered. But is there more than a mere parallel? Does Jesus function as this shepherd in some sense? That is, does Jesus suffer the judgment of Israel in his own person much like the suffering servant of Isaiah 53? Yahweh strikes his own shepherd but does so for the sake of Israel’s renewal and, ultimately, for the nations.

Jesus goes to the cross as a criminal. He is (unjustly) convicted of treason. He is crucified with insurrectionists. As Isaiah 53:12 announces which is quoted in Luke 22:37, he is “numbered among the transgressors.” He suffers with Israel and for Israel. He is the suffering servant who bears the judgment of Israel for the sake of redemption.

Yahweh strikes his own shepherd for the sake of the sheep.

Mark 12:13-17 – To Whom Does It Belong? Taxes and Such

I think the question is an important one. To whomever it belongs, it is owed.  One must decide their allegiance based on who the owner is. “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God’s the things that are God’s” (Mark 12:17).

The question whether Israel should pay the Caesar tax has been much abused. Many, if not most, have understood Jesus’ answer in a way that is subversive to his fundamental point. To say, ultimately, that there are two realms or two kingdoms, the nation-state and the kingdom of God (an ancient version of state and church), is to say there are two owners. But–and this is the key point–Yahweh owns it all. Consequently, only Yahweh’s kingdom–only the kingdom of God–has any ultimate claim on our lives as disciples of Jesus.

The context of Mark’s narrative is extremely important in this text. Otherwise, as is often done, we might lift Jesus aphorism out its setting and give it an independent status. When we decontextualize his statement then we are free to import a different meaning by recontextualizing in our own setting even without knowing that we are doing so. In this way Jesus’ statement is understood as a piece of American brilliance that separates church and state.

This text is set within a string of controversies that contrast the authority of the Jewish leaders with the authority of the kingdom of God. Jesus raised the question whether John the Baptist’s authority was divine or human (Mark 11:) and Jesus underscored that the temple authorities are stewards of God’s vineyard (Mark 12:1-11). God is the owner; no human authority is. Jesus, thus, undermines any claims to authority that the Sanhedrin or leaders might assume. God reigns; human authority does not. It is in this context that the question arises: to whom does it belong? The assumed answer, on the part of Jesus, is that it belongs to God who reigns over the world.

The leaders responded to this agenda by seeking to arrest and execute Jesus. But his popularity was too high and his presence too public. Consequently, they had to find a way to either undermine his popularity or enrage the Romans who would execute him, and they thought they had the perfect question to do it. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not? Should we pay them, or should we not?” It is important to note that Pharisees and Herodians posed the question. It was a group effort, and the Herodians themselves were royalists who compromised with Rome in order to remain in power.

Either way Jesus answered would get him into trouble. If he said, “Yes,” pay the tax, then his popularity would wane as the tax was a hated aspect of popular culture. If he said, “No,” don’t pay the tax, then the Romans would have cause to move against him for treason and fomenting rebellion.

At our distance it is difficult to imagine how politically and religiously explosive this question was.   The tax under question is a specific one called kenson (which is a Greek transliteration of the Latin census). When Judea came under direct Roman administration in 6 C.E., this tax spawned a rebellion by Judas the Galilean who, according to Josephus, called collaborators “cowards for consenting to pay tribute to the Romanists and tolerating mortal masters, after having God for the Lord” (Wars, II.viii.1). Finally, when imperial taxes were raised in 64 C.E. the land revolted in 66 C.E. and this rebellion resulted in the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple (cf. Wars, II.xiv.1).

Would Jesus dare to say, “pay the tax” and alienate the populace? Or, would he dare to say, “don’t pay the tax” and suffer the charge of treason?

The cunning with which the Pharisees and Herodians approach Jesus belies their duplicity. They recognize that Jesus is someone who speaks the truth and is unconcerned by populist or political views. Jesus, they ostensibly believe, will “teach the way of God.” In other words, they attempt to “play” Jesus and encourage him to give a direct answer to a politically-charged question. Playing to the crowd, they affirm Jesus as one who will tell the truth no matter what the consequences. They have baited Jesus like a fish.  But will he bite?

Jesus sees through the question–he sees their “hypocrisy.” This hypocrisy is revealed when Jesus asks for a denarius (an imperial coin). They have one! Not only that, “they” have one in the temple courts! “They” give him a coin and Jesus asks his own question.

“Whose image and inscription is this?” This is a loaded question itself. The term “image” reminds us that Emperors invited worship through their images; this was idolatry in the minds of devout Jews in the first century. To use the word “image” is to conjure up all sorts of “images” of imperial oppression and idolatry, the command to make no graven images, and humans are the “image” of God rather than gods themselves. Further, the word “inscription” only occurs one other time in Mark when one is placed over the head of Jesus on his cross (Mark 15:26). Roman images and inscriptions are hostile ideas in first century Palestine. It is Caesar’s image and Caesar’s inscription. This is not a welcome point in colonial Palestine occupied by Roman legions.

The image is Caesar and the inscription makes a claim over the world. The imperial denarius of Tiberius contains not only the likeness of the Emperor but also an inscription which read: “TI(berius) CAESAR DIVI(ni) AUG(usti) F(ilius) AUGUSTUS,” which means “Tiberius, Caesar, Son of the Divine Augustus.” The image on one side of the coin represented Tiberius sitting on his throne as one who ruled over the known world. The inscription reads “PONTIF(ex) MAXIM(us) or “High Priest.” Tiberius Caesar claims to rule the whole world–both politically and religiously. It claims that Caesar owns the known world.

It is little wonder that this coin was unpopular among Jews in occupied Palestine. In fact, Herod the Great and Herod Antipas minted bronze coins for daily use without images to avoid any offense to Jewish sensibilities. The imperial coin, however, represented imperial claims and interests.

Then Jesus amazes his questioners with his response. “Render (repay?) to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

Many read this as a parallelism (Caesar/God) which separates the world into two legitimate spheres: state and religion. In this way it is read as an affirmation that there are two kingdoms–divine (kingdom of God) and human (nation-states), and each are equally legitimate and each bears their own authority in their separate realms. In other words, in this view, Jesus is saying, “pay the tax; it belongs to Caesar.”

This is often extended to mean that the state has its own authority such that it may legitimately authorize violence whether in a “just” war or in capital punishment. This is something citizens owe Caesar when asked. Or, this is something citizens owe their state when asked to defend it. This is how Sergeant York came to the conclusion that he should serve his country in WWI according the popular movie (see the clip here).

But there is another way to read this which better fits the context as Jesus denies any human authority that subverts divine ownership. The saying is actually antithetical, that is, either it belongs to Caesar or it belongs to God. Render what is owed to the owner. Is Caesar the owner or is God the owner? Is it imaginable that Jesus could have legitimated Caesar’s claims and affirmed Caesar’s ownership when, contextually, Jesus has just denied the ownership of the vineyard by the Jewish leaders?

It seems to me that Jesus is pushing the question back on the querists. You decide, Jesus says. If you think it belongs to Caesar, then pay the tax. If you think it violates God’s ownership, don’t pay the tax. In effect, Jesus is non-committal. He will not decide for them but rather turns it back on them for them to answer. What will they do? And, thus, they are caught in their own trap. They have to decide what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God.

This is why, I think, they marvel. This is the only place in the New Testament where this strong word occurs (exethaumazon). They are incredulous; they are stumped. They have no response.

Jesus does not answer with a cute–”yes, of course, pay the tax since it belongs to Caesar.” Instead, he turns the question back to his interrogators. Let them judge what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God.

But implicit in Jesus’s answer–if we understand it as an antithesis–is a rejection of Caesar since everything already belongs to God. Caesar is owed nothing because  God already owns everything. Jesus is not legitimizing the authority of Caesar. On the contrary, he claims that God is the owner.

That does not mean that Jesus necessarily opposes paying any taxes under any circumstances. Rather, it simply means that it is God who reigns rather than Caesar. Jesus lives under the authority of the kingdom of God; he does not live under the authority of Caesar. Jesus will give to God what belongs to God, that is, everything….and that may very well include legitimately paying taxes as part of shared responsibility in a social compact (but that is another topic altogether).

“Miraculous Movements”: Muslims Coming to Jesus

My longtime good friend, John King, is engaged in training people around the world in Discovery Bible Studies as part of the CityTeam Ministries’ Disciple Making Movement or the Church Planting Movement (specifically the work of David Watson). I love what he is doing with the support of his wife Debra.

John recommended that I read Miraculous Movements: How Hundreds of Thousands of Muslims are Falling in Love with Jesus (Thomas Nelson, 2012) by Jerry Trousdale. Since John began telling me about his work I had wanted to read something substantial that tells the larger story. I am happy to report that this book does just that.

Is it possible that 200,000 Muslims have become Christians in West Africa since 2007? Is it possible that 6000 new churches have been planted? Is it possible that 45 new people groups have been reached? This book tells that story which includes more than 350 different ministries cooperating in these efforts. It is not so much a history of that development as it is a story that narrates the church-planting or disciple-making method that facilitated such Spirit-generated fruit. That method involves saturating prayer, finding a “person of peace,” focusing on groups rather than individuals and utilizing the Discovery Bible Study method.

Surveying the reports and analyzing his own experience, Trousdale notes seven “paradigm shifts” in his own approach to ministry (chapter 12):

1. Make Intercessory Prayer the Highest Priority (or, nothing is more important than prayer…period!).
2. Make Disciples Who Make Disciples (or, invest time in discipling a few who will themselves disciple others).
3. Invest Time in the Right Person (or, instead of mass marketing invest in a “person of peace” who will “bridge the gospel into that community”).
4. Don’t Tell People What to Believe and Do (or, give space for the Spirit to work through the Word as people discover Christianity for themselves).
5. Never Settle for Revealing Just One Dimension of Jesus’ Life (or, follow the model of Jesus’ own ministry who demonstrated compassion rather than merely disseminating information).
6. Never Substitute Knowledge About God for an Obedience-Based Relationship with God (or, information is good but obedience is better).
7. Understand that Jesus Does Impossible Things Through the Most Ordinary People (or, professional ministers are helpful but not necessary).

This is not an academic book, and that is a good thing. Rather, Trousdale utilizes extensive oral reports from former Muslims and on-the-ground ministers who have seen and experienced this tremendous harvest. The stories from former Muslims are compelling.

The book is filled with stories of answered prayer, courageous believers, Muslim conversions, dramatic transformations, and God’s faithfulness to his witnesses.  Through these stories, we learn about Muslim dissatisfaction with their sense of assurance, their lack of knowledge about Jesus, the social pressure that hinders their own search, and the violence that follows converts. People are often martyred in Africa for their witness to Jesus.

The witness present in this book is a sobering encouragement for believers who live in the comfort of the United States. It is also a report of what God is doing and in reading it we should all give thanks for God’s marvelous movement among Muslim people-groups in Africa.

Reading these stories encourages us to look more simply at Christianity. Western modernism has complicated Christianity and academia has often subverted it. The movement of Christianity in West Africa among Muslims is simple, powerful and courageous. Meeting in small churches (an average of 32 disciples per congregation), these disciples are changing the landscape of West Africa by the power of God’s working among them.

I must admit that my Western skepticism is high (some of the stories are way outside my comfortable box), but I also recognize Western skepticism is often antithetical to what God is actually doing. I too easily limit God for the sake of my own rational, emotional and self-righteous comfort. So, I’m listening and hoping to learn more. May God help my unbelief.

Mark 12:18-27: Who is Your God?

In this story Jesus confronts the limiting rationality of Sadducees who think it impossible that God should raise the dead. Their theology is limited by their own experience and rational argumentation.

I dare say that is not too uncommon in our present moment as well. For example, it is not unusual to hear, “If God is like _________, then I could never believe in a God like that.” The assumptions present in that statement are numerous but at bottom it rests on the presumption that God must fit (or conform to) my rationality to be worthy of my affirmation. It turns the table on the God-human relationship as we judge an infinite God by a finite, fallible human rationality.

Jesus catches the Sadducees doing this very thing.

The Sadducees, authorities in the Jewish ruling council (the Sanhedrin), appear as the fourth group to attempt to trip up Jesus while he taught in the temple. The chief priests and elders questioned Jesus about his authority to cleanse the temple, the Pharisees and Herodians questioned him about the Caesar tax, and now the Sadducees question him about the resurrection. But this last question does not seem to be the same sort of question as the first two since those endangered his life. Actually, this last question was one of many inter-Jewish disputes between the Pharisees and the Sadducees.

So, what is the function of this question? At one level, it may simply be an attempt to stump Jesus and thereby undermine the hold he had on the populace as a teacher. The Sadducees, by using their “trump” question–the question that would immediately defeat the opponent (like “what about the person who dies on the way to baptism?”), possibly hoped to dishonor Jesus and demystify his status as a great teacher.

At another level, something more significant may be at stake in this question. Some suggest that it is about power, land ownership and ruling authority. Levirate marriage laws (Deuteronomy 25:5-6 ; cf. Genesis 38:8) secured the inheritance of land within a clan or family through regulations that mandated that a brother marry his sibling’s childless widow. The land could not be inherited by a widow (read: woman) and thus she needed a legitimate child to inherit the land. If this is the point, then their question is about who will inherit the land in the resurrection as much as it is whose wife will she be.

Others, I think more correctly, suggest that the issue concerns the nature of the new age, the reality of a resurrected world and life in it. The Sadducees assume that resurrected life is wholly identical with the present reality. For them resurrection, as they understood it from (presumably) the Pharisees, is that there is little to no difference between resurrection and resuscitation. And this is the point that Jesus addresses directly.

Jesus claims that they err because they “know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God.” This is an important characterization. It signals exactly how Jesus will respond to the query.

First, they do not know the power of God. They have limited God by their own conception of rational possibilities. Resurrection, for them, can only mean that life will continue as it is now. But Jesus undermines this assumption. While there is continuity between the present and resurrected life (our personal identities, for example), there is also discontinuity. The new age (the resurrected life) will be different. Procreation will not be part of the coming age so there is no need for marriage as it presently exists regulated by Torah legislation. We will be “like angels”–not that we will be angels ourselves; that is, our communal relations will be similar to how the angelic community lives in harmony with each other. The difference between angels and humanity, however, is that we will inherit the land (the cosmos).

Second, they do not know the Scriptures. Jesus quotes Exodus 3:6 which recalls a key moment in Israel’s history, the day when Moses encountered Yahweh at the burning bush. Many interpreters focus on the present tense (“I am the Gd of Abraham”) as the key to how Jesus uses the text in response to the Sadducees. In other words, God is still the God of Abraham, that is, Abraham is still living. This form of Jewish “grammatical exegesis,” however, does not seem to fully fit the bill since this does not really say anything about resurrection but, at the most, only their present ongoing existence (which is not resurrected life itself).

Instead, following Janzen’s suggestion [JNST 23 (1985) 43-58], Jesus is not utilizing a grammatical exegesis but is rather employing a narratival hermeneutic. When Jesus uses the ancestral formula, “the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,” we remember the ancestral narratives of these patriarchs. We remember Abraham whose wife was barren but yet gave life. We remember the barrenness of Rebekah and Rachel. The wombs of Israel’s ancestors were dead but God gave them life. Thus, the formula remembers a God who brings life out of death. This is the God of Israel, the one who brings life from death. Yahweh is a resurrecting God, one who delivers Israel from death. God does not leave Israel in death but gives life.

The Sadducees are faulted on two counts. They put God in the box of their own rationality and they don’t even know their own story.

Humans, whether we are talking about theodicy, omniscience or other issues in philosophical theology, tend to put boundaries on their gods. They like them to conform to their expectations and to the limits of their own rationality. We will only believe in a God who suits us or we will only believe something about God that fits within our parameters. This is the mistake of the Sadducees. They do not know the “power” of God or, we might add, the frailty and fallibility of their own rationality.

At the same time, we don’t just believe in any god. Rather, we confess the God of Scripture. We embrace a narrative logic. This God is faithful; Yahweh does not lie. This God is powerful; Yahweh can save. We read Scripture, not simply to do tidbits of grammatical exegesis, but to hear the narrative story–to embrace the narrative logic–of the self-revealing God. We know the Scriptures so that we might know our God and experience the life God gives. With Jesus, we confess that our God delivers from death.

Such a confession does not fit our experience. People die all around us and they do not come back to life. Just like the succession of seven brothers, they all die. But the narrative logic of Scripture–the narrative of a redeeming, life-giving God–overwhelms our experience and we confess that God will raise the dead and give life.

This confession, however, is not simply about resuscitation. Rather, we confess that God will inaugurate a new age. God will create a new heaven and a new earth in which the redeemed people of God will live in their resurrected bodies suited for the new age. While our rationality (and even our science) may find that hard to believe, Christians confess both the power of God and the narrative logic of Scripture.

Baptists and Disciples: David Lipscomb Appeals for Unity in 1866

In 1866 Lipscomb called for a representative meeting of Baptists and Disciples–whom he characterized as “brethren”–to seek a way to foster unity between the two groups. He identified their common theology (including a common baptism), but also stressed their common heritage which, he claimed, stretched back through “eighteen centuries of persecution and martyrdom.”

For Lipscomb, Baptists and Disciples have:

• common baptism
• common rule of faith
• common discipline
• common Lord
• common Heaven
• common ancestry

Read his plea for churches to meet together with prayer and fasting so as to unite as one people.

David Lipscomb, “To Baptists and Disciples in Tennessee,” Gospel Advocate 8 (10 April 1866), 236-37.

Brethern:–The Savior of the world prayed that his people and his followers might be one–that the world might believe that the Father had sent him. The oneness of the people of God, the unity of the followers of the Lord in one body, is made a condition of the world’s believing in the Son of God, that that world might be saved from the woe of hell. Division and strife to-day separate the professed followers of the Savior, and the world in infidelity and sin is going down to the dark abodes of eternal death. In the face of this lawful consequence of division among the people of God, what are doing to bring about union and peace? Are we making the efforts and the sacrifices to avoid division and bring about union that the importance of the subject demands? We divide and separate, and in careless indifference perpetuate that division in despite of the prayer of Jesus, and as a consequence our fellowmen, our neighbors, friends, brethren, husbands, wives and children go down to death, how can we be held guiltless in the sight of God? The union of Christians in one body, in one faith, in one walk, directed by the same rule, is the demand of God and the crying want of the world. Shall Christians make no effort to comply with the demand of God, and supply this want of the world? We appeal to Baptist and Disciples as having many points of agreement to make a move in this direction. They teach a common rule of admission into the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, to-wit: A penitent believer’s burial in Baptism, in order to a resurrection to a new and holy walk with God, they have a common rule of faith and practice for individual Christians, and book of discipline for the Church of God, the simple, pure, unadulterated word of God. They have one common Lord and Master, one common Heaven of rest and happiness after life’s trials and sorrows are over. They have, too, one common ancestry, one common history for eighteen centuries of persecution and martyrdom. Can they not live and labor together in love and harmony as children of a common Father? Our brethren, too, in Virginia, have set us the example of trying to effect a union. Shall we not follow their good example? Shall we not have a meeting either of men chosen from our respective bodies at large, or commend to the churches to meet together, with fasting and prayer to God, and seek to unite as one people. How greatly would our capacity for good be increased? What joy to the good of earth and the angels of Heaven, would such an effort cause?

Will our brethren, Baptists and Disciples, at once speak out and say whether we shall make the effort, and if so, how, and how soon.

Zechariah 14:16-21 – Everything is “Holy to the Lord”

This is the climax, as well as the conclusion, of message of Zechariah.It is the “mountain top” of Zechariah.

The first half of Zechariah promised God’s return to Jerusalem through the rebuilding of the temple (Zechariah 1-8; cf. 2:5). The eight visions promised renewal and prosperity for Judah and Jerusalem. But it also envisioned a time when the nations would live among the children of Jacob and know Yahweh (cf. Zechariah 2:11). The first half ends with nations coming to Jerusalem to know God (Zechariah 8:20-23).

The second half of Zechariah describes a day when Ephraim and Judah will fully inherit and inhabit the land promised to Abraham (Zechariah 9-14). Though Yahweh refines and purifies Israel through judgment, ultimately Yahweh will come to Jerusalem, defeat the nations and Yahweh will reign over the whole earth. This second half of Zechariah ends on the same note as the first half as the nations come to Jerusalem to know God (Zechariah 14:16-19).

In particular, on that day—an apocalyptic, eschatological day—Yahweh will pour out grace on Israel (12:10), rid the land of idolatry and false prophets (13:2, 4), stand on the Mount of Olives to level the hills of Judah and exalt the holy hill of Zion (14:3-5), rid the creation of darkness (14:6-7), water the land with a river flowing from Jerusalem (14:8-9), and reign “over the whole earth” (14:10). With the nations (evil) defeated and Jerusalem secured, Yahweh invites the “survivors from all the nations” to rest in the divine presence (14:16-21).

The survivors, presumably those who turned to God in the preceding drama, will make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem “to worship the King, Yahweh Almighty.” The whole earth now worships the God of Israel. This even includes Egypt (Zechariah 14:18). The echoes of the Exodus and the plagues upon Egypt in Zechariah 14:12-14 are now transformed into the gracious invitation and hope that Egypt will participate in the worship of Yahweh. This is a total reversal—Egypt comes to Jerusalem!

The climactic rhetoric of Zechariah 14:16-21 pictures a celebrative festival at Jerusalem to which the whole earth is invited. In fact, the specific feast is identified—it is the Feast of Tabernacles. Sometimes called the “feast of booths” because Israel lived in tents during the feast as a reminder of their wanderings in the wilderness, the festival was a time of rejoicing and gratitude.

The Feast of Tabernacles celebrates God as both Creator and Redeemer. Worshiping the Creator, the Feast rejoices over the fall harvest and thus acknowledges God as the provider of that harvest (Deuteronomy 16:13-17). But the Feast also anticipates the fall plantings and a harvest from the winter crop (which is celebrated at Pentecost). Consequently, the festival may have employed water rituals that involved prayers for rain as rain is necessary for the survival of crops in a land without irrigation (cf. John 7:38). Yahweh provides the rain (not Baal!). Rain was even necessary for Egypt since a drought in the southern highlands would prevent the flooding of the Nile. Rain here, however, may only symbolize the blessings of God in the land since living water now flows from Jerusalem itself. Whatever the case, the Festival expresses gratitude to the Creator who provides in this new day just as God did in the wilderness and as God did in creation.

The feast also celebrated Yahweh as Redeemer. For Israel the Feast of Tabernacles reminded Israel that God had delivered them from Egypt (Leviticus 23:39-43). Israel was freed from Egyptian slavery and now the whole earth has been liberated from the rule of the nations. The nations, though they exist presumably as ethnic groups, no longer reign; Yahweh reigns.

During the time of Nehemiah and Ezra, the Torah was read during the Feast of Tabernacles (Nehemiah 8:14-18). This not only informed the worshippers but it was also a renewal of their covenant with God. Just as Israel heard the law and agreed to keep it at Mount Sinai (Exodus 24), so at the Feast of the Tabernacles Israel again renews their allegiance to Yahweh alone. Astoundingly, now the nations will hear the law, enter into covenant with God and worship Yahweh. They will now participate in and become part of the story of Israel.

That day is a new day. When Egypt and all the nations come to Jerusalem, it is a new day. This newness spreads throughout the whole of life. “Holy to the Lord” becomes the common inscription, not only on the High Priest’s head plate (Exodus 28:36-38), but upon every cooking pot in the temple, even every pot in Jerusalem and Judah itself.

The Feast of Tabernacles involved fellowship offerings where the sacrifices offered were eaten at a meal by the worshippers (pictured in this text as boiled in the cooking pots). The need for cooking utensils would have been huge (the temple had an eating area for the priests, cf. Ezekiel 46:21-24), and every cooking utensil is deemed holy, that is, dedicated to the Lord. This is actually the breakdown of sacred and secular. When Yahweh reigns over the whole earth, everything is “Holy to the Lord.”

And the unclean become clean. Just as in creation there was no distinction between ritually clean and unclean animals, so in this new day there are no unclean animals. This is expressed by the opening note that even the “bells of the horses” will be inscribed “Holy to the Lord.” The horse, according to Leviticus (11:1-8), is an unclean animal, but it is no longer. On this day, it is holy to the Lord.

As the whole of Jerusalem and Judah is identified as “Holy to the Lord,” it is expected that nothing unholy would be found there. Consequently, “on that day, there will no longer be a Canaanite in the house of the Lord Almighty.” The term “Canaanite” might refer to the ethnic group that Israel displaced in the Joshua Conquest, but it is more likely referring to a merchant class. This epitaph was used to describe (dishonest?) traders (cf. Hosea 12:7; Zephaniah 1:11; Zechariah 11:7; Isaiah 23:8; Prov. 31:24) and here used to refer to merchandisers within the temple complex. In other words, (dishonest?) traders will no longer participate in the temple business. There is no need; God will provide. Everything is “Holy to the Lord.”

The new day will sanctify all of Jerusalem and Judah. The nations will come to worship Yahweh and celebrate God’s goodness as Creator and Redeemer. Unclean will become clean, and everything is deemed “Holy to the Lord.” Everything belongs to Yahweh since Yahweh reigns over the whole earth.

When will these things be? Or, are they now? Or, have they already been?  Next post, please.