The Death of Easter: A Holy Week Reflection

I write this on Maundy Thursday, as the ominous events of Good Friday begin to cast their long shadow over the controversial figure of Jesus of Nazareth, and as a global pandemic casts its long shadow over our celebration of Holy Week.

Jesus' mind was made up. He had "set his face to Jerusalem," all the while knowing what awaited him there. Neither the Romans nor the Jewish leaders had room in their power structures for his rule. Each one depended entirely on the status quo -- that delicate political balance that would line their pockets and ensure their children's futures. For Jesus to bear his message to the capital city would require either their capitulation or his death. He knew this. He knew the explosive potential of his own ministry. To keep the peace, to maintain control, they must stamp out alternative visions of reality. People's hearts were too easily swayed by hope. Jesus stirred a dangerous ferment of ideas by speaking of the kingdom of God, and by hinting that the kingdom had come. The discontent of the masses was fanned into flame by his presence. They thought only in terms of military overthrow. And how could they think otherwise? Worldly power structures were all they had ever known.

Still, he went. This fateful act was the reason for his coming. Ironically, the way to win would be to lose. Jesus' demonstration of self-giving love was the most powerful articulation possible of his vision for a new kind of kingdom. It seemed contrary to reason. It was contrary to reason, under the world's system. But Jesus knew something they didn't know. There was another path to victory. A path through death itself.

Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. (John 12:24 NIV)

In these unprecedented times, as the world's leaders seek to contain the spread of the CoronaVirus, the church is not allowed to gather. No Holy Week services? It would seem a defeat for the church to cancel the high point of the Christian year. Sure, we can view sermons online and sing in our living rooms. But it is not the same. We are missing the most joy-filled celebration of our faith, the essence of the Christian message. We are witnessing the untimely death of Easter. But if we've learned anything from the story of Good Friday, we should know that apparent defeats can be something else entirely. The path to victory passes through death itself.

The power of the gospel does not depend on large crowds or full-throated singing or Easter lilies or new dresses. All we need for Easter is an empty tomb. Perhaps this year, more than any other year, we will rediscover this. In the isolation of our own homes, we bury this seed. Wearily, we await the passing of the pandemic's fury. But we do so in hope, because we have an advantage. We know something Jesus' first followers didn't know. We know resurrection. We can already anticipate the joy of long-awaited handshakes and hugs. We scarcely knew how important these were until we were deprived of them. This death of community will be reborn in a deeper embrace.

More importantly, we know that Jesus' resurrection is only the beginning of what God has planned for all of creation. This broken and dying world will be brought to life. Sickness and sorrow will be reversed. Sin defeated. Death conquered. And all things made new. This is our confident hope.

Let us not mistake numbers with power. The Christian movement started under the radar with small groups of shaken believers, gathered in homes shuttered against the fury of Rome. Jesus appeared to them bodily, behind closed doors, and banished their doubts. He can do the same today. His presence and power are limitless.

May the temporary death of our Easter spring forth into a harvest of faith-filled community.

Imagine how those who don't normally attend church will watch online from the safety of their living rooms.

Imagine how the gospel is infusing our homes as we gather to pray and sing and read Scripture within these walls.

May the temporary death of our Easter remind us of our true hope--that God is making all things new.

What if the profound brokenness that characterizes our world fueled our desire for the kingdom of God to come in all its glory?

What if we grasped more deeply the ultimate reason for our joy--not that all is well, but that all will be well.

May the temporary death of our Easter be the beginning of something even better.
 

What Do You Expect This Christmas? (Part 3)

In this series I've explored the unmet expectations of our Christmas celebrations as well as unmet expectations in the first Christmas. We considered Simeon:

Simeon is an old man, and he’s been watching and waiting for God’s deliverance his entire life. He sees baby Jesus and knows instantly that the moment has finally come. God has answered his prayers! 

But Simeon doesn’t stop with these celebratory words. He ends with a sober warning:

“This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, but he will be a joy to many others. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose him. As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul.” (Luke 2:34-35) 

Jesus is not all puppy dogs and rainbows. His birth would make a horrible Hallmark movie. Instead, his coming exposes the hearts of every woman and man. People will either love or hate this man. Because of Jesus, lives will be ruined. Secrets revealed. Hearts pierced as with a sword.

Detail of "The Killing of the Innocents" by Leon Cogniet
(1824) - Musee des Beaux-Arts, Rennes, France /
Giraudon / The Brideman Art Library

And it doesn’t take long. Before the baby can walk or talk, King Herod catches wind that a special child has been born, destined to be “king of the Jews.” Herod calls himself King of the Jews, so this baby is a real threat to his own power. In his paranoia, he orders his men to kill all the babies in and around Bethlehem. Mary and Joseph flee to Egypt as political refugees just in the nick of time, thanks to a foreboding nightmare. But that’s just the beginning. The birth of the Messiah is not what anyone expected.

Jesus grows up and is ready to begin his work as God’s Messiah – his anointed king. And it works out just as Simeon foretold when Jesus was just a wee little thing. Rather than a sword to pierce the Romans, Jesus’ words are like a sword that pierces the hearts of all who hear him, even the Jews, exposing their hypocrisy. His first recorded sermon in the book of Luke chapter 4 ends with the Jewish congregation trying to throw him off a cliff – literally.

We can’t embrace Jesus as our hero or teacher or prophet or king without his sword piercing our hearts, too. His words are life-giving, but they require surrender on our part – he’s in the business of releasing us from our sins and our fears. Transformation begins by exposing what’s deep down inside. Every one of us must decide: what will we do with Jesus? There is no neutral. We cannot hold him at arm’s length. We either let him do his work in us, or we reject him. That’s the surprise of Christmas.

It’s not just the first Christmas or our first encounter with Jesus where this happens. Whether we’ve been a Christian for 6 months or 60 years, Jesus’ coming has this effect on us every year. In the frenzy of the holiday, what we care about most becomes obvious. Our stress levels rise and fall with our expectations of ourselves and of others. How will this look to the neighbors? What kind of friend am I? What should I bring? Why wasn’t I invited? … If we surrender our expectations to him, we’re free to receive whatever he has for us. If we try to control things by clinging to our own expectations, we’re in for a tough ride.

Dear desire of every nation

Joy of every longing heart

What is the desire of your longing heart this Christmas – more than anything? And what do you fear most of all? As we approach Christmas – the day that celebrates Jesus’ coming into our world – our desires get exposed along with our fears. I leave you with this heartfelt advice for how to navigate Christmas this year:

1. Release your expectations for yourself and for others. Part of finding contentment is having a sober assessment of who we are and what we can reasonably accomplish in light of what God has designed us to do and what else is on our plates. We can’t do it all! Stress enters the picture when we expect more of ourselves than God does. Does he expect us to do all these things? If not, then why do we try to do them?

2. Refuse to numb your disappointment. When we feel things start to crumble and our expectations are unmet, the temptation is to numb the pain – binge watching, binge eating, frenzied activity, shutting down emotionally, oversleeping, spending sprees, drinking, perhaps – anything so that we don’t have to feel the disappointment. In fact, some of you have become so skilled at numbing that you would say you don’t have any expectations at all this Christmas. You’ve stopped caring. Numbing our disappointment actually prevents us from experiencing the gift of Christmas. Instead of numbing, here’s what I recommend:

3. Invite Jesus into the mess that is your real life. Come to him honestly, achingly, desperately. Jesus doesn’t wait to enter our world until it is neat and tidy and ready to post on Pinterest. He walks on stage in the middle of Act 2, when everyone has forgotten their lines and the whole show is on the verge of disaster. That’s his cue. It’s the part he plays masterfully. Jesus isn’t overwhelmed by your schedule or shocked by your family dynamics. He didn’t come to affirm us but to redeem us. Transformation is what he’s all about. Bringing joy and hope and rest in the midst of life’s mess is what he does best.

What will you do with Jesus this Christmas? Will you release your expectations to him? refusing to numb your disappointment and inviting him into the mess? His coming brings rest, hope, joy, and so much more, but not when we’re holding him at arm’s length and trying to do things on our own.

Come, thou long-expected JesusBorn to set thy people freeFrom our fears and sins release us
Let us find our rest in theeIsrael’s strength and consolationHope of all the earth thou artDear desire of every nationJoy of every longing heart*

Or in the words of another of my favorite Christmas carols,

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.**

------------

*"Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus," Charles Wesley, 1744 

**"O Little Town of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks, 1868

TIME, Trump, The Death of Socrates, and The Art of Biblical Interpretation

Journalism ethics is all the rage this week (literally), with a provocative TIME magazine cover on the topic of immigration. (With apologies to readers interested in the politics of immigration and assurances to those weary of the debate, this post is not about immigration, but rather the relationship between art and truth). Are the facts at odds with the truth?

The Facts: President Trump has never met this girl from Honduras. Her separation from her mother at the border was only momentary, as her mom was searched. Afterward they were (at least temporarily) reunited as they awaited processing.

The Truth: Still, the girl comes to represent the many hundreds of children who have been separated from their parents while seeking a better life. The moral outrage following the public's realization of this is understandable, no matter how you propose to handle illegal immigration.

TIME's cover reminds me of a painting from the 1700's -- "The Death of Socrates," by Jacques-Louis David. David depicts Socrates surrounded by his disciples, on the verge of drinking his death sentence in poison. He teaches until the final moments of his life, remaining stoic in the face of death.

"The Death of Socrates" by Jacques-Louis David (1786)
Public Domain / Wikimedia Commons

Here's the connection with TIME's cover: Plato, from whom we learn the story of Socrates' death, was not present when it happened, yet David depicts him seated at the foot of the bed, slumped over and facing away.

Why include such an inaccuracy in this painting?

The Facts: David knew from Plato's own writings that he was not present at Socrates' death.

The Truth: Plato was deeply affected by Socrates' death and opposed it. By positioning him at the foot of the bed, looking away, the artist accurately captured Plato's disposition toward the death of his esteemed colleague. If Plato had been missing from the painting, we would lose this central point the artist is trying to make -- a point that coveys the truth of history creatively.

From time to time, feathers are ruffled when someone dares to suggest that the writers of Scripture  were brilliant artists. To some, this implies a disconnect with truth and a denial of divine inspiration. The second objection is easily solved. The God who created all things endows humans with creativity and invites us to participate in his work. As a prime example, take Bezalel and Oholiab, the men charged with designing the tabernacle (Exodus 31). These men were Spirit-filled and skilled creatives, in spite of the fact that their task was to construct something that already had very detailed blueprints. If their creativity was not a valuable asset for this project, God would have been better served finding an automaton. No, he chose humans, men who had spent years honing their skills in weaving and engraving and woodworking and all types of art.

But does art imply a disconnect with truth? Put another way, would the exercise of artistic license in the production of sacred Scripture get in the way of truth?

A great place to test this theory is in the Gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each tell us the story of Jesus. With their words they paint a portrait for us of his life and ministry. They share much in common, at times even whole episodes or chapters. But there are differences, and some of these are rather puzzling. Did Jesus drive out the money changers in the temple at the beginning of his ministry (as John tells it)? or at the end (as Matthew, Mark, and Luke recount)?  Some Christians assume that Jesus must have driven them out twice -- once at the beginning and another time at the end of his ministry. But could this be an example of creative license?

Each Gospel writer introduces us to the historical Jesus by showing us something distinct about who he really is -- the Jewish Messiah (Matthew), the suffering Son of God (Mark), the Savior for all people (Luke), the Son who reveals the Father (John). To show us what is true about Jesus, in some instances they are best served by rearranging events so that everything will point in the direction they want us to look. This is not because they are trying to hide the truth, but because truth is their main concern. They arrange the details so that we as readers don't get muddled -- so that we can see what they see.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke may have saved this story until the end to illustrate how the opposition to Jesus gained momentum, resulting in his crucifixion. On the other hand (I suspect this is the better explanation), John may have chosen to tell us about the temple cleansing earlier because he's arranging the episodes of Jesus' life topically. The temple cleansing fits a string of stories illustrating Jesus' redefinition of Jewish institutions (sacred vessels, temple, rabbis, and sacred sites; John 2:1-4:54).* The cluster of stories among which the temple cleansing sits is followed by a series of stories in which Jesus redefines Jewish festivals (Sabbath, Passover, feast of Tabernacles, and feast of Dedication). Together, these two clusters make up the "Book of Signs," where John presents 7 signs that reveal Jesus' identity and call people to faith, setting us up for the "Book of Glory," where Jesus is glorified by offering his life on the cross.

However you slice it, artistic license is clearly at work. Either somebody moved this event out of chronological order, or all four gospel writers chose to omit a second occurrence. In my opinion, the truth has been gloriously served.

*For a fuller discussion of John's arrangement of material, see Gary M. Burge, Lynn H. Cohick, and Gene L. Green, The New Testament in Antiquity (Zondervan, 2009), 216-219.

Life After Heaven

I've written about heaven before, saying that we typically get it wrong, that it's not what you think. So what am I to make of a man who claims to have been there and back again? How credible do I find his story?

Paul Pastor, writer and fellow alum of Multnomah University, saw my blog post on heaven and asked me to read this story and blog about it, too. At first, Paul was also a skeptic. But Steven Musick had a story to tell and needed help telling it. After Paul met Steven and heard his story, he was convinced that something was different about this heaven-and-back experience. Together they wrote this book. 

Life After Heaven: How My Time in Heaven Can Transform Your Life on Earth is an amazing story, but there's nothing flashy or sensational about the way Musick tells it. Instead, he invites us to see how God has made a difference in his day-to-day life by giving him a glimpse of what comes next. He relates his difficult childhood, early successes, and the unexpected illness that sent him on ahead.

"This Place must be heaven," he writes of what happened when he died. "This Place—heaven—is physical, real. In fact, it's more physical and real than the world I have known. It's not an ethereal, disembodied state, as some people might think. Senses, all my senses, are brilliant and deep. There is weight. There is movement. My body feels an overwhelming sense of freedom. It is wonderful. Totally free." (40)

After a brush with death and 5 weeks in a coma, Jesus sends him back and Musick wakes up.

He is crushed. After experiencing heaven, Steven's longing to be with Jesus again is almost debilitating at first. As he explains, "Heaven is all you want once you've tasted it" (155). He faces an incredibly painful recovery and over a decade of limited activity because his lungs were deeply scarred by his illness.

I don't want to spoil Musick's story by telling you what happens next, but through it he discovers that God is at work in profound ways right here on earth. Musick begins to realize that heaven is not as far away as we might think, and that we can experience it here and now if we're sensitive to what God is doing. He tells one story after another of "bubbles," moments when the kingdom of God shows up on earth, enveloping, exhilarating, fragile, and momentary.

Steven is honest about his doubts, his unanswered prayers, and his awkward moments. He takes no credit for his frequent encounters with kingdom of God. He offers no formula for guaranteeing divine presence. But he wants to awaken our sense of anticipation: "There's more that we should be experiencing in the here and now. Our expectations are far too low. Heaven is much closer than we think." (176)

It's been 40 years since Musick visited heaven. Why tell his story now? He wants it to make a difference in our lives the way it has in his. 

"Do we all need to have a near-death experience to overcome the fear of giving God the totality of our lives, time, and resources? To give him our fears of loss? of suffering? of death?" (166) Musick hopes not. He aims to fill us with anticipation about what awaits us after death so that we're unafraid to embrace the fullness of life here. 

Life After Heaven won't hit the bestseller lists. It's not sensational enough. The story is not exactly gripping. But Musick doesn't want it to be. It reads like a conversation over breakfast, a gentle nudge to look deeper, to long for more, and to be available to participate in the kingdom of heaven here and now. 

That's what I like best about this book. It unveils the intersection between heaven and earth and gives us a taste of the vibrancy and healing of the presence of Jesus that we can begin to experience right now. Call it what you will—heaven, the kingdom of God, eternity, the new creation—we have a lot in store for us! 

When Jesus travels around Palestine preaching, he isn't telling people the good news about what awaits them after death. He doesn't preach "heaven." He claims that the kingdom of God is near. He offers glimpses of that kingdom by healing people, casting out demons, telling stories, rebuking wickedness. His victories over the kingdom of darkness are tangible, earthy, working their way into the nitty gritties of life—bleeding, disease, conflict, ambition, death. He doesn't primarily show people how to die well, he shows them how to live well.

And that's exactly Musick's message. If you're curious, read his story for yourself!

a simple path to joy (part 3): faith for the bend in the road

In the first two posts of this series, I've suggested that true joy comes when we face life honestly and cultivate gratitude for what we have and where we are. These choices get us through the gate and onto joy's path, and they help us navigate each intersection.

The third choice on the pathway to joy comes when we reach a bend in the road. It's a fact of life that we can't see what's ahead. But joy does not depend on knowing what comes next or being able to control it.  True joy cannot be seized or managed.  We don't get there by straining harder, but rather by releasing our hold on what we cannot control anyway. Christian joy comes when we recognize our own helplessness. That is, it comes through faith -- faith rooted in the reality of what God has done for us in Jesus Christ, and in what he promises to do for all creation. We await the renewal of all things. We believe it is coming. Trouble may lurk around the next bend, but the pain, sorrow, and madness of this world is not final. It is merely a symptom of our world's brokenness and need for restoration. That restoration has been promised by the God who created all things. We can count on it. And it has already begun to take effect with the resurrection of Jesus. 

The story of Jesus is powerful precisely because when he became human he entered fully into the mess and the brokenness of this world. But his life was fully surrendered to God the Father and therefore fully energized by the Holy Spirit. His mastery of being human, his perfection, is more than just a model for us to follow (though it is that). It's what qualified him to break the power of sin and death by offering himself in our place. He took the punishment we deserved. He died our death, so that we could truly live.

The New Testament calls joy a fruit — one of the character qualities that naturally arises from a life energized by the Holy Spirit. This, too, suggests that joy comes not by straining, but by surrender, not by trying, but by trust in the transforming power of God. That power is made available to us in Jesus Christ. A gift to each of us who surrenders. We can walk in this joyful reality by facing our brokenness with honesty, embracing our present with gratitude, and responding in faith to life's uncertainties. We may not know what the future holds, but we know who holds the future. And that makes all the difference.

Now for a word of warning. The pathway to joy is not a path we walk only once. Honesty, gratitude, and faith are not quick fixes for joy. They must become habits. We must continue to face life with honesty, to receive our circumstances with gratitude, and to embrace the future with faith. As one Bible scholar puts it, "Like muscles, the capacity for joy atrophies if we do not use it regularly. Those who wait for some great occasion for joy and gratitude to God are not likely to recognize it when it happens." (Ellen Davis, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs, 221; quoted in James Limburg, Encountering Ecclesiastes: A Book for our Time, 114). We begin practicing honesty, gratitude and faith right here, with whatever we're facing.

Paul was among the early Christians who traveled around the Roman world to spread the news about Jesus' resurrection from the dead. He had some utterly strange things to say about joy:

In his letter to the church in Corinth he said, "In all our troubles my joy knows no bounds." (2 Corinthians 7:4) He spoke of others who had "overflowing joy" "in the midst of a very severe trial (2 Corinthians 8:2). And Paul was not alone in noticing that joy and trials often went hand-in-hand. James, the brother of Jesus, wrote "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds." (James 1:2) Pure joy? When facing trials? Why? He goes on to say, "because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." (James 1:4) James is saying we ought to be grateful for the effects of those trials on our character. Through the eyes of faith, we know that hard times help us to grow in important ways -- provided we respond with open hands and open hearts. That brings pure joy.

We no longer need to worry about what's ahead. If something good happens, we can celebrate. If we face difficult times, we can be glad for what those experiences will do in us so that we can become who we were meant to be. We win either way! That frees us to face our present situation honestly and receive it with gratitude.

Paul discovered this. He wrote, "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:11–13)

And so can you!

seeing Christ in the Darkness

                                                                     Photo: Carmen Imes

One of the perks of living in Wheaton is the free museum in the Billy Graham Center on campus, with its gallery of featured artists. I hadn't paid attention to the latest exhibit until recently. The paintings of Georges Rouault (1871–1958) have been on display since November, just waiting for me to wake up and discover them. His artistic message resonates profoundly with all I have been living and learning this year. Rouault dwells on suffering and pain, but illustrates the light of Christ that draws us even in bleak darkness.

One painting in particular grabbed me. The caption reads:

"Out of the depths ...," Miserere Series, Plate 47
Etching by Georges Rouault / Photo by Carmen Imes

"Lying alone on a bed, this figure sheds dark and powerful tears. Cut off from the communion of the other figures on the background, this place is the "depths." As the person calls out to Christ, his presence is there. With a brilliant light, Christ illuminates the figure and even seems to be pulling the individual up from the bed toward the light. Rouault makes it plain that not only can we call to Christ from the depths, but that he is already there."

Even in the darkest night, Christ is with us. We never suffer alone. The life and hope of Christ overcomes death itself.

"Benediction Christ,"
Fleurs du Mal 1 Series
Etching: G. Rouault
Photo: C. Imes

"Arise, You Dead!"
Miserere Series, Plate 54
Etching: G. Rouault
Photo: C. Imes

"Resurrection"
Intaglio
By Georges Rouault
Photo: Carmen Imes

shedding our (theological) skin

Summer spells more time to read with my kids, which I love. We're so spoiled to live across the street from one of the best children's libraries in the country! (But you would think we lived an hour away if you saw the stacks of books we lug home every time we go.)

As it turns out, children's books are a great source for theological reflection. While reading The Butterfly Story by Anca Hariton, I learned something new about caterpillars. And that new thing came in handy in a recent conversation with another student.

She came to me for help on a paper, but after that we chatted for a bit. She expressed that being in grad school has been confusing for her. She feels like the God she learned about as a child is different than the God she's learning about at Wheaton. Now when she prays she's not sure who she's praying to. And that's disconcerting.

We didn't go into detail about the particular differences between her childhood theology and what she's hearing in class. But I've felt that tension before, too. You don't want to turn your back on your childhood faith and the people who instilled it in you. But you trust that your professors know what they're talking about, at least most of the time. The choice between them is sometimes awkward and painful!

Everything seemed so simple before seminary. Your job was to read your Bible, pray, and tell other people about Jesus. You were supposed to tell them that he died on the cross for their sins and that if they ask him into their hearts they can go to heaven to live with him forever.

But then you discover that reading the Bible is not that simple. The Bible never talks about "asking Jesus into your heart." And "Jesus" doesn't make any sense without the Old Testament background. Furthermore, you're told that Westerners tend to over-emphasize individuality and miss the corporateness of the Bible. It's not about "me and Jesus" but about identifying with the believing community. And then your professor points out  "heaven" is not forever. It's only temporary. The real forever is in the new creation. All that makes sense, but it's crippling, because you're not sure how to talk about the gospel anymore. How can I encourage people to read the Bible without getting stuck in hermeneutics? What is the gospel if it's not "me asking Jesus in my heart so I can live in heaven forever"? What do I tell them?

Here's where the Butterfly Story can be helpful. Everyone knows that a caterpillar turns into a butterfly while it's in the chrysalis (a.k.a. cocoon). But did you know that while it's a caterpillar it outgrows its skin several times? It starts out small, but as it eats and grows larger its skin gets tighter and tighter until it splits open, allowing the caterpillar to wriggle out, fill up with air, and keep eating and growing.

The first skin was not defective. It was right for beginning. It did the job. But it's not big enough to accommodate all the growth the caterpillar needs to experience so that it can become what it was designed to be.

Faith is like that. Our simple ideas about God work for a season. By God's grace they get us where we need to be to learn more. But they can't accommodate everything. We must keep eating and keep growing and not be afraid to shed our skin when things get tight. God hasn't changed. But sometimes our picture of who he is and how he works needs filling out. And that's ok. It's all part of growing up.

Tuesday Tidbit: a "proud humility"

I'm reading H. Richard Niebuhr's Christ and Culture for a class by that name with Dr. Daniel Treier that begins this morning. Niebuhr's description of Christ's humility is striking:

"The humility of Jesus is humility before God, and can only be understood as the humility of the Son. He neither exhibited nor commended and communicated the humility of inferiority-feeling before other men. Before Pharisees, high priests, Pilate, and 'that fox' Herod he showed a confidence that had no trace of self-abnegation. Whatever my be true of his Messianic self-consciousness, he spoke with authority and acted with confidence of power. When he repudiated the title of 'Good Master' he did not defer to other rabbis better than himself, but said, 'No one is good but God alone.' There is no condescension in his life toward the sinners, such as might mark an insecure or apologetic man. His humility is of the sort that raises to a new sense of dignity and worth those who have been humiliated by the defensive pretentions of the 'good' and the 'righteous.' It is a kind of proud humility and humble pride, which can be called paradoxical only if the relation to God as the fundamental relation in his life is left out of the account. It is wholly different from all the modesties and diffidences that mark men's efforts to accommodate themselves to their own and each others' superiority-feelings, it is also wholly different from that wise Greek virtue of remaining within one's limits lest the jealous gods destroy their potential rivals. The humility of Christ is not the moderation of keeping one's exact place in the scale of being, but rather that of absolute dependence on God and absolute trust in Him, with the consequent ability to remove mountains. The secret of the meekness and the gentleness of Christ lies in his relation to God." (26–27 in the edition pictured, emphasis mine)

We often think of humility as self-abasement. But as Niebuhr points out here, true humility has nothing to do with self. True humility is rooted in "absolute dependence on God and absolute trust in Him."

anticipation—the beauty of advent

We opened presents with my parents the day after Thanksgiving. The beautiful thing about gift-giving so early is that it has freed us to anticipate the greatest gift of all—Jesus, our Messiah. Each night after dinner we're putting the next leaf on our Advent Tree (for a free complete set of advent devotions, click on the link to the right that says "Advent Tree Devotions"). The kids love when it's their turn to put a leaf on the tree or read the Scripture passage of the day. In a busy season, any chance to slow down and reflect is something to be cherished.

I adapted these devotions from a book that started with creation and led up to Jesus' resurrection. It's a wider set of Bible stories than most Advent plans include, and that's what I love about it. Jesus' birth is unintelligible without an understanding of the Old Testament. He was the answer to long centuries of anticipation of God's decisive work to redeem his people from sin. Just as we wouldn't give our kids the answers to their homework without letting them first wrestle through the questions, so we should show them why the world needed Jesus before we celebrate his coming.

If you don't have plans for Advent and want to try these, it's not too late! You can make an Advent Tree with a big sheet of paper or posterboard, and add leaves of green construction paper each day. Let your kids draw the pictures on each leaf, or write a key word from the story instead. Or have them draw the pictures on paper circles to hang on your Christmas tree. Make it a family project. And if you do, I'd love to hear how it goes!

John Piper on interracial marriage

John Piper and I don't always see eye to eye. But I, like many others, have learned a lot from him, and I'm grateful for his ministry. His has, time after time, pointed the church to the vision of God's Glory.

Today I simply want to share a link to a wonderful chapel message he gave at Wheaton on October 3rd on interracial marriage. Piper was honest about his own racism while he was an undergraduate student at Wheaton, and during his growing-up years in the 50s and 60s. But his story includes several key moments where that racism was challenged. Now he insists that the Bible does not condemn interracial marriage, and neither should we. In his words:

"Our oneness in Christ is profound and transforms racial barriers into blessings."

"Few things - I think - are more beautiful than when a Christian couple across racial lines, overcomes every racial prejudice, every ethnic slur, every gospel-contradicting fear, and then display in a marriage the covenant-keeping commitment and love of Christ for his church. That's what marriage is for."

"Marriage is mainly displaying to the world the covenant keeping love of God between Christ and this church and this church and Christ (Ephesians 5). Dream that dream, and it will profoundly affect whom you marry."

"Christians are people who move towards justice, who move towards beauty. They don't move towards security at every point."

"Don't underestimate the challenges of marriage. . . .When it comes to interracial marriage, celebrate the beauty of it."

In the end, Piper called interracial marriage "good for the church, good for the world, and good for the glory of God."

Amen to that!

On the "communion of saints" ... or ... why do Catholics pray for the dead?

…I believe in the holy catholic Church,

The communion of saints,

The forgiveness of sins,

The resurrection of the body,

And the life everlasting.

-Apostles Creed

In my most recent post I explored Catholic teaching about the “life everlasting,” including the doctrines of heaven, Purgatory, hell, and the final judgment. The doctrine of Purgatory, so foreign to Protestants, is wedded with another unfamiliar doctrine: the communion of saints. I grew up saying the Apostles Creed every Sunday, and I always thought “communion of saints” referred to fellowship among believers. And so it does, but the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) specifies a wider frame of reference.

At the most basic level, “the communion of saints is the Church” (CCC §946). The Church shares a number of things in common, both physically and spiritually. First, “the riches of Christ are communicated to all the members, through the sacraments” (§947). Second, all that belongs to the Church belongs to the whole church (§947). As the Eastern Orthodox Church says before partaking in communion, “sancta santis,” or “God’s holy gifts for God’s holy people” (§948; cf. 950, 960). This is a beautiful expression of the biblical truth that Christ’s holy gift of himself is intended to make us holy.

Protestants agree that “Faith is a treasure of life which is enriched by being shared” (§949; cf. 961). This is part of what is meant by the “communion of saints.” We also join with Catholics in affirming that the gifts of the Spirit are given for mutual edification (§951). True communion involves sharing our possessions with the needy (§952) in love (§953).

"Communion of Saints"
from www.catfoundations.org

However, when Catholics talk about the "communion of saints," their view of the Church is much wider than the "church universal" (spread geographically) or the "church through the ages" (spread chronologically). They have in mind the church in three dimensions, or states. The CCC explains, "at the present time some of his disciples are pilgrims on earth. Others have died and are being purified, while still others are in glory" (§954, emphasis mine; cf. 962). We, then, are unified with these believers who are already in heaven, or who live in Purgatory awaiting entrance to heaven because we are all incorporated into Christ (§955). According to the CCC, we should not merely learn from their examples, but commune through prayer, and in that way draw closer to Christ (§957). Those already in heaven "intercede with the Father for us" (§956). "We can and should ask them to intercede for us and for the whole world" (§2683) because their prayers benefit us (§1475). We, in turn, pray for those in Purgatory "that they may be loosed from their sins," and may go on to heaven and pray for us (§958). Together with saints dead and alive, we praise God (§959).

As I explained yesterday, the doctrine of Purgatory is connected with the practice of praying for the dead (which in turn is based on a passage in the Apocryphal book of Maccabees). The doctrine of the “communion of saints” in Catholic thinking in turn prompts prayer for fellow believers who are on their way to heaven (cf. §1032; see 2 Macc 12:44–45).  Baruch 3:4 also hints at this, mentioning “the prayer of the dead of Israel.” The CCC explains, “By virtue of the ‘communion of saints,’ the Church commends the dead to God’s mercy and offers her prayers, especially the holy sacrifice of the Eucharist, on their behalf” (§1055; cf. 1371, 1689).

Though these teachings are most clear in the Apocrypha, we can find hints of in the Scriptures accepted by Protestants. First Peter 3:18–20 speaks of Jesus preaching to the disobedient dead before his resurrection. This implies that there is a place other than heaven or hell where dead people await their final destiny. Hebrews 12:1 pictures the saints who have died as “so great a cloud of witnesses” who are watching us live out our faith. From this passage we get a glimpse of some type of communion with them, a mutual edification.

Protestants, I suspect, are nervous about the Catholic understanding of the “communion of saints” for three reasons (1) the Bible clearly condemns communication with the dead (e.g. King Saul and the witch of Endor – 1 Sam 28:6–21), and (2) Protestants are reluctant to exalt any human being in such a way that the perfect work of Christ is eclipsed. He is our only good, and the one source of our righteousness. Since “all have sinned,” even those who have done great things for the kingdom of God are unworthy of our veneration. All glory belongs to Christ alone. (3) A third reason is that Jesus Christ is the only mediator we need: “For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1Tim 2:5 RSV).

In fairness to Catholics, they are not seeking knowledge from dead saints the way Saul was with the deceased Samuel. While Saul was engaged in necromancy (magic) outside of God's revealed will, prayers for the saints are "in Christ." The reality of the resurrection changes what is possible. Catholics exalt no one above Christ. Their honoring of the saints is precisely because of God's work in and through them. And they do not view the saints as mediating for us outside of Christ, but instead as sharing in his work of mediation as part of the royal priesthood. Still, the practice of praying to saints comes uncomfortably close to these aberrations and runs the risk of misunderstanding at a popular level. It’s no wonder Protestants want to leave a wide margin.

In short: At the core of Catholic teaching on the Church is the idea that we commune with all believers, those in heaven, waiting to enter heaven, or alive on earth (none of them are really "dead" the way the condemned are dead). The idea of prayer for the "dead" is most clearly seen in the Apocrypha, which Protestants do not accept as Scripture. The uncertainty of the idea of prayer for the "dead," combined with the thin witness of Scripture about life between death and final judgment, make communion with the "dead" a matter about which Protestants will continue to feel uneasy. Some of this uneasiness may be unfounded, as I hope this post has shown. Orthodox Catholic teaching preserves the absolute uniqueness of Christ and his saving work on our behalf. 

Advent Tree: Week 4

Here we are at the final week of Advent (leaves are not pictured in order). I have really enjoyed diving into these stories. Most days the readings are a bit too long for Easton (age 3), but Eliana (age 10) is amazed at the way the whole Bible tells one big story!

John the Baptist (river with voice)
Jesus' Sermon (broken chains)
Good Shepherd (sheep and crook)
Door (open door)
True Vine (vine)
Bread of Life (broken loaf of bread)
Light of the World (sunrise)

You have probably figured out by now that the "Day #" does not correspond to the date of December, since advent starts four full weeks before Christmas. Don't worry about the date. Just keep on going until you're finished!

Day 22 - John the Baptist (river with voice) - Read Luke 3:2-6; 15-16; 21-22; Isaiah 42:1

Remember the baby that Zechariah and Elizabeth had? What was his name? His name was John.

What did God say he would become? A prophet who would prepare the people to meet God.

Well, when John grew up, that’s exactly what happened. He began preaching to people and warning them to stop disobeying God and do what pleases him. Many people thought that John must be the one they had all been waiting for – the Messiah, God’s anointed king. But he knew he was not the promised Messiah. He was just helping people get ready for his coming. John baptized people who were sorry for their sins in the Jordan river. Jesus, John’s cousin, had grown up, too, and he came to be baptized by John -- not because he had disobeyed, but to show that he was ready to do God’s work. When he came up from the water an amazing thing happened. The Holy Spirit came down upon him like a dove and God spoke from heaven. God told everyone that he was pleased with Jesus, that Jesus was the long-awaited king (see Psalm 2) , and that Jesus was the servant that Isaiah had promised would come (Isa 42:1)!

Day 23 - Jesus' Sermon at Capernaum (broken chains) - Read Isaiah 61:1-2 and Luke 4:14-21

After Jesus was baptized, he began teaching people everywhere about the kingdom of God. The first sermon we know about was in a Jewish synagogue. Do you remember when we talked about the scroll of Isaiah (and even looked at it on the internet?)? Picture this: when Jesus went up front to get ready to teach from the Bible, someone handed him that scroll – the scroll of Isaiah – the one that promised that he would come! Jesus rolled the scroll until he came to the part where Isaiah talked about the servant who would come to bring Israel back to God. Jesus read it to everyone, and then he announced that the promise had come true!

What did Isaiah say the servant would do? He would give good news to the poor, freedom for prisoners, sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. Jesus had come to make all of God’s promises come true!

Day 24 - Good Shepherd (sheep and crook) - Read Ezekiel 34:1-6; 11-16; John 10:11-16

Isaiah and Jeremiah were not the only prophets in Israel. Ezekiel was another prophet who spoke to the Israelites during the time when they were taken away into Babylon (the time of Daniel). He warned the leaders that they were like bad shepherds who only thought of themselves and didn’t take care of the sheep. He promised that someday he would come to shepherd the people himself. The Jewish leaders must have been pretty surprised when Jesus announced to them that he was the good shepherd! That meant that they were the bad shepherds and that God planned to remove them as leaders over his people.

Jesus was the king like David.
Jesus was the servant promised by Isaiah.
Jesus was the good shepherd. Does this mean he is God himself? It would seem so! He is the kind of shepherd who takes care of each of us, making sure we are strong, healthy and safe.

Day 25 - Door (open door) - Read John 10:7-10; 14:6; Ps 118:19-24

What did Jesus call himself in our lesson yesterday? The good shepherd.
Jesus also called himself the “gate” or “door” through which the sheep may enter and be safe. He is the only door that we can enter to become part of the family of God. He is the only way to get close to God because he is the only one who can teach us to live in a way that pleases God. Remember when Jesus was baptized and God called down from heaven and said he was pleased with Jesus as his son? If we want to learn how to please God, the only way to do it is to learn to live like Jesus. People today talk about there being many different paths to a healthy spiritual life. The Bible says there is only one path, and it’s Jesus. Tomorrow we’ll learn about what it is like to do things his way.

Day 26 - True Vine (vine) - Read John 15: 1-4; Isaiah 5:7

When the prophet Isaiah talked about the big problems that Israel had obeying God, he used many different word pictures to help them understand. One time he said that they were like a vineyard – a field full of grape vines – which only produced sour grapes. God said he would need to destroy the vineyard and start over again. Jesus came to fulfill this promise, too. He said that he was the true vine, and that everyone who stayed connected to him would bear good grapes. And that’s really true! When we try to do good things on our own strength, without depending on Jesus, the things we do don’t turn out well. Our actions become selfish and our attitudes turn sour. We need to keep on trusting Jesus in everything we do. That will make us the kind of vineyard God wants to keep!

Day 27 - Bread of Life (broken loaf of bread) - Read John 6:48-51

Jesus used another word picture to tell his followers about who he was and what he came to do. He told them that he was the “bread of life.” He knew that his body would be broken, just like the bread they ate. And somehow his brokenness would bring life to everyone who trusted in him. When Israel was in the wilderness God gave his people manna to provide for their hunger. Now he was giving the life of his son to provide food for their spiritual needs. It sounded just as strange to them as it does to us. Eat Jesus? Jesus meant that they needed to take what he was giving them – his very self – and let him transform them from the inside out. They no longer needed to look anywhere else to find what they needed. It was all found in Jesus. And it’s the same today. Jesus is all we need to stay spiritually alive and close to God.

Day 28 - Light of the World (sunrise) - Read Isaiah 60:1-3; John 8:12 OR John 11:17-25; 33-44

Isaiah had told the people of Israel that one day a light would dawn and shine on everyone. All the darkness and sadness and confusion would be gone. Instead his light would brighten everything. Remember the star that shone brightly when Jesus was born? It was a hint of who Jesus really was. When Jesus was grown he announced that he was that light, and he proved it by giving sight to the blind and raising Lazarus from the dead.
Jesus is the true, anointed king! He rules over the whole world as the Messiah.
Jesus is the special servant! He came to bring us back to God.
Jesus is the snake crusher! He conquered death and sin. Death came into the world when the snake led Adam and Eve to disobey God. But now, in Jesus, we can live forever! His light shines in our hearts and shows us the way to live.

running behind on Advent devotions?

We are, too. We did Zechariah and Elizabeth this evening, which means we're three days behind. The good news is that with this Advent Tree there are seven more stories that come after the birth of Jesus. So if you get behind you can just keep on going until you're through (and if you get a whole week behind, you can read about Jesus' birth on Christmas Day). What better way to spend the week after Christmas than reflecting as a family on Jesus' life and ministry! One of the dangers of ending the story with his birth is that it becomes a "cute" story about a baby, rather than the powerful, world-transforming event that it was. I'm looking forward to talking with our kids about the ways that Jesus fulfilled God's promises found in the Old Testament -- not just in his birth, but with his life, too.

HE is the snake crusher!
HE is the king reigning on David's throne!
HE is the servant who suffered for our sins!
HE is the one who gives us new hearts and writes God's law on it!

(Shhh . . . don't tell your kids yet. I wouldn't want to spoil their moment of discovery!).

Perhaps this month's busy schedule robbed you of the opportunity to do something like this for Advent. No worries! Now you have a whole year to get ready.

a 'wordle' of my blog ... (www.wordle.net)

what good is the old testament?

I'm reading a great book, and just came across a paragraph that captures so well the value of the Old Testament.  Christopher Wright, in his Old Testament Ethics for the People of God, says this:

"When the human race chose to rebel against God and fell into disobedience, arrogance, strife and violence, God's response was not simply to rescue individuals for some disembodied existence at a safe distance from the doomed planet.  Rather, God chose to call into existence a community on earth and in history that would be different, and through whom he would eventually bring the blessing of redemption to humanity as a whole.  Even in its origins in the book of Genesis, this community was given an ethical agenda.  In a world going the way of Sodom they were to walk in the way of the LORD, by doing righteousness and justice.  The way of the LORD was made clear to them through his great acts in their history - especially the exodus.  This community was further shaped by the law God gave them at Sinai, and by the other great traditions of their faith - prophets, wisdom writers, psalmists, historians and so on.  The purpose of all this was not merely for Israel's sake alone, or merely to keep God happy.  Rather, Israel as a society was intended from the start to to be a paradigm or model to the nations, a showcase of the way God longs for human society as a whole to operate.  We are not only justified, therefore; we are indeed expected to make use of the social patterns, structures and laws of Old Testament Israel to help us in our thinking and choosing in the realm of social ethics in our own world." (73-74)

Christopher Wright is one of the few scholars who have focused on the ethical value of the Old Testament for us today.  His work is a joy to read!  He emphasizes again and again that Israel's election was not proof that they were better than anybody else, but that they were meant to be a model for the nations of the character of Yahweh, the God who called them.  The nations were supposed to be able to look at Israel to find out what Yahweh was like.  Israel's history is littered with failures, but one Jewish man who carried out this mission flawlessly is still alive today.  (You can read about him in the New Testament.) I look forward to spending the next three years of my life digging into these truths!

I spy ... Jesus?

The other day I was window shopping in Glen Ellyn with Emma and Easton.  It was after hours, and we had ridden the train there to eat a treat at Two Toots Train Restaurant.  Emma (almost 6) peered through the window into a darkened store and announced, "I think this is a Christian store!"

"Really?" I asked her, surprised.  "What makes you think that?"
"Because I saw a sign that said 'Jesus'."
My curiosity was piqued, and we both shaded our eyes and looked inside.
They were having a 50% off sale on Jeans.
"Emma, it says 'Jeans' not 'Jesus.'"
"Oh, right.  Well ... they're similar!  Jesus could wear blue jeans!"

3 New Testament scholars who make me want to study the Old Testament

N.T. Wright
R.T. France
Richard Bauckham

All three of these men are brilliant thinkers, clear communicators, and committed Christians.  They also share in common piercing insights that come from reading the New Testament in light of the Old Testament.  I'm so thankful for their work.  All three have opened the Scriptures for me in life-changing ways.

I just read through Richard Bauckham's 60-page essay entitled "God Crucified," which can be found in the volume I mentioned yesterday (Jesus and the God of Israel). There is so much I'd love to share from his work, but I'll choose just one example.  His big idea is that Jews during the first century had a concept of God that allowed them to include Jesus in the "divine identity" without compromising what they already believed about God.  They did not view Jesus as an exalted angelic being or a remarkable man, but as somehow one with Yahweh himself.  Their view of "one God" (which we call monotheism, a somewhat misleading term) had room for personifications of aspects of God, such as His Wisdom or His Word (Prov 8) that were in a sense distinct from him, but not altogether separate. This made it less of a stretch to worship Jesus as God. The line between who God is and who He is not included at the very least His identity as the Creator and the Ruler of all.  When Jesus was identified as present and involved at the time of creation and all things were said to be under his authority this was a clear indication that the NT writers saw him as included in the divine identity (see Phil 2:6-11; Col 1:15-20; 2:9-10 for two early expressions of this).

One particularly cogent example of why we simply must read the NT in light of the OT is found in 1 Corinthians 8:6. Ironically, this was one of the few passages that the Jehovah's Witnesses showed me just yesterday.  They saw it as proof that Jesus was not God, while I took it the other way.  Unfortunately, I had not yet read Bauckham's explanation of this verse, which is far more compelling than my feeble attempt to explain it yesterday.  There it reads:

"But for us [there is] one God, the Father
     from whom [are]all things and we for him,
and one Lord, Jesus Christ,
     through whom [are] all things and we through him."

Bauckham points out that this is an allusion to the Shema' of Deut 6:4, which reads:

"Hear, O Israel, the LORD, our God, the LORD is one." 

This sentence is arguably the most important one in the entire OT. Jews would have repeated it twice daily, seeing it as the central expression of their faith. The word LORD, which appears in all caps, is a translation of God's personal name, Yahweh.  When the Hebrew Bible was first translated into Greek, the translators used the Greek word kurios ("lord") to represent both LORD (Yahweh, God's personal name) and Lord (adonai, the generic word for a lord).  For Hebrew-speaking Jews, there was no confusion. Yahweh was the one, true God who deserved their worship and devotion.  He was the creator of all things and the one who sustained the universe and ruled over all.  In the NT, however, the only way to refer to Yahweh is by using the Greek word kurios, which is not a personal name but nevertheless the only option they had.  It is remarkable how often the NT authors make a point of telling us that Jesus is kurios.

Paul, in the example above, uses the identical language from the Greek translation of Deut 6:4 and divides it between God the Father and Jesus Christ.  As Bauckham insists, "Paul is not adding to the one God of the Shema' a 'Lord' the Shema' does not mention.  He is identifying Jesus as the 'Lord' whom the Shema' affirms to be one." (28) The "one God" and "one Lord" created the universe.  Yahweh has now revealed Himself in His fullness in the coming of Jesus.

This is why I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to focus on the Old Testament at Wheaton.  The New Testament is very, very important to our faith and we just cannot afford to get it wrong!  With the OT clearly in view, we have a much better chance of understanding the NT in the ways that the writers (and Writer) intended.

bringin' in the big dawgs

I've been meeting with some Jehovah's Witnesses off and on for about 17 months now.  We met regularly for 6 months and then took a break for the summer. We met a few more times and then I asked if we could wait until April and meet to talk about the Trinity.

I have learned a lot from Lula. She is a godly woman, dedicated to the ministry, who really knows her Bible.  She has refused to be intimidated by my 6 years of formal Bible training and knowledge of both Greek and Hebrew.  Though not formally educated herself and not paid a dime for her ministry, she has continued to come week after week to meet with me and study the Bible.  Each time we meet she brings along someone different, always another woman volunteer. Can I make a confession?  For a long time now I've wondered when she would call in her supervisor. Today she finally did.

Kevin is the district substitute superintendent for the entire Charlotte area all the way to Spartanburg.  Like Lula, he is mystified that anyone could actually read the Bible and persist in believing in the Trinity.  Often I tell them that I can see how they could read the passage in the way that they do, but that I understand it differently. Today Kevin finally asked me (in exasperation?), "If a straightforward reading of the Bible implies that Jesus is not God, but sent from God as his representative, then what would motivate you to elevate him further?"

I was so glad he asked.  I pointed immediately to a brochure Lula had given me last year entitled, Should You Believe in the Trinity? They do a good job of introducing the topic, and I especially like this: "If the Trinity is true, it is degrading to Jesus to say that he was never equal to God as part of a Godhead. But if the Trinity is false, it is degrading to Almighty God to call anyone his equal ..." (3). This is why it matters: because right worship depends on knowing God as He really is.

Though there is a number of passages that seem to suggest that Jesus was not equal to the Father (John 14:28; 1 Cor 11:3; 15:27), there are many other indications in Scripture that Jesus was more than just God's representative (John 1:1; 17:21; Acts 2:21 with 4:12). Jesus did things that only God can do.  He forgave sins, he raised the dead, he healed a man blind from birth. Jesus also made claims that were tantamount to claiming deity.  He called himself the "light of the world" (John 9:5 with Isa 60:1-2), the "good shepherd" (John 10:11 with Eze 34), the "son of man" (Matt 17:9 with Dan 7:9-10, 13-14; Rev 1:12-18), and the "I am" (John 8:54-59 with Ex 3:3-4). These claims caused great consternation among the Jewish leaders, and in several cases they tried to stone him for blasphemy! His followers worshipped him (see John 9:38), and he did not object.

I recommended two books that have been helpful for me on this issue.  One is Donald Fairbairn's Life in the Trinity: An Introduction to Theology with the Help of the Church Fathers. Not only is it written simply and beautifully, it is changing the way I think about salvation.  I highly recommend it!  Fairbairn explains that the earliest followers of Jesus saw salvation as an invitation to share in the life of the Trinity the way the Father and Son share life together.

The other book is Richard Bauckham's Jesus and the God of Israel: God Crucified and Other Studies on the New Testament's Christology of Divine Identity. This one is not quite as easy to read, but terribly profound. Bauckham argues that Jesus' actions and claims about himself prompted his early followers to include him within their concept of "one God." The first century Jewish idea of monotheism was flexible enough to allow for Jesus' inclusion in the deity without seeing God as "more than one." At the end of our discussion, Kevin admitted that he needed to go back and reexamine some things in the Bible.  And that's what every good Bible discussion should do -- push us back to the Scriptures with fresh eyes to see once again what God has revealed and how we are to respond.  Please pray for Kevin, and for me and Lula as we continue to study the Bible and discuss what it teaches.

a divine appointment

Last year at ETS I experienced a rapid succession of divine appointments for 3 days straight.  This year felt different because I did a lot of leg work ahead of time to set up appointments with 10 different scholars.  That pretty much filled my schedule, but I prayed that God would orchestrate any other run-ins that I ought to have while I was there.  One of my most treasured divine appointments was with Edsar.

My roommates and I had headed to the mall next door to grab a quick lunch between conference papers.  The food court was packed, and there was simply no way to find 3 seats together that were not directly beside other people eating.  So the 3 of us sat side-by-side across the table from a young man who was eating Chick-fil-A for lunch.  He smiled and noticed our name tags.

"Are you all here for the theology thing going on at the Hilton?"

"Yes, we are."

"Can you tell me what it is?  I mean, like who comes to it?  Is it something for Christians?"

This started a lengthy conversation about theology.  Edsar had a few questions about the Bible that he had been saving up for just such an occasion.  He wanted to know how we got the books in the Bible that we have, and if anything might have been left out.  He was curious how the decisions were made.  Brittany, my conference roommate from Wheaton, did a great job explaining the process of canonization.  Then, under the direct inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she asked Edsar a question:

"May I ask what prompted you to start thinking about these issues?"

It was the perfect question.  We had both assumed that his questions stemmed from bestselling books like The DaVinci Code or some prime time fixation with the "Lost Gospels."  They had not.  Edsar opened up to us, sharing that he had grown up in the church but had recently come to terms with the fact that he is gay.  He knows what the Bible says about homosexual behavior, and he still believes it should be our authority, but he is wrestling deeply with the questions about God.

"How could a loving God create me like this, and then condemn me for it?"

It was a moment drenched in grace.  We all felt it.  Brittany and I affirmed him as a man created in God's image, and that his question is both deeply personal and very important.  We expressed that all of us are affected by our "fallenness" in different ways.  Some are tempted in areas of anger, some by heterosexual lust, some by gluttony. Homosexual behavior is no worse than other areas of sin.  People feel strong desires to do many things that are contrary to God's will.  Desire is not an indication of the rightness of a behavior. 

I told him that we had wrestled in similar ways as women who loved the Bible and felt a strong pull to teach it.  The Bible clearly states that women should not teach, and I have often asked, "God, why would you give me such a strong desire to teach the Bible if I'm not allowed to do it?"  It's a question that cuts to the core of our gender, our identity, and our search to find our place in the grand scheme of things.

Because he was an intelligent guy who would not be put off by an academic book, I recommended one that has been helpful to me: Slaves, Women and Homosexuals by William Webb.  Webb looks at all three issues (slavery, women's roles, and homosexuality) as they are presented in Scripture and concludes that we must follow the trajectory of Scripture beyond what the Bible actually says.  Because the Bible was written to particular people in a particular cultural setting, we cannot assume that the specific prohibitions are timeless or that behavior found in the Bible should always be emulated. This could be a problematic approach in other areas, but with these three issues Webb's conclusions are sound. 

• The Bible does not condemn slavery outright, but it was right for us to outlaw it. 
• The Bible says explicitly that women shouldn't teach, but we are right to affirm women as teachers, even of men.  (If you want to know why you'll have to read the book.  This is a post about homosexuality, not slavery or women!)
• Homosexuality, though, is unilaterally condemned in Scripture.  There is no 'movement' or 'trajectory' that would allow for a change in position on this issue.  About the time that Paul wrote the books of Romans, homosexuality was being exalted as the epitome of love,  yet he is clear that it is contrary to God's will (see Romans 1).

I hope that we communicated this in as loving and gentle way as possible.  We encouraged him that this is his own journey, and that he would have to wrestle with the issues for himself.  Each of us is on a journey to become more like Jesus, and the process of becoming more like him can be painful.  Brittany urged him to bring his questions right to God and seek out his answers.  We told him we'd be praying for him.  And we did, on our way back to the hotel.  We just couldn't go another step without praying for that dear brother who was willing to give us a glimpse into his soul.  It was a great reminder that the study of theology has a huge bearing on everyday life.  May each of us have many more divine appointments such as this one.