A Bit on the Path to Perfection June 12, 2008

Just as the race course mentioned in Hebrews 12:1-4 is the path we take to the finish line, so the discipline mentioned in 12:5-11 is the path we take to perfection, wholeness, shalom.  We believe God has begun a work in us and we anticipate the completion of that work; but we cannot anticipate the completion of the work while dismissing or despising the discipline he institutes to achieve perfection in us.  Too many of us have this concept that God should just get to the results and forget the long, intricate work he goes to achieve those results; we want to be patient now!  We want to be faithful in our quiet times now, and why hasn’t God made that true of us?!  God can do anything; surely God can take away our lustful desires over night.  He can give us endurance and perseverance through one, deep Holy Spirit injection.

But all (latent) these expectations we have of God are not determined by who God is.  They totally miss his heart and his character.  He is the God who pursued Abram even in Ur, taking the course of Abraham’s life to fulfill his promises to him; who brought Moses out of Egypt to lead his people out from under Pharaoh’s rule, but not to the Promised Land for another generation–after Moses’ own death; who instituted Saul as King before David; who waited for his people to repent for centuries before sending them into exile to provoke repentance; and who so thoroughly desires the world to be saved that he sent his only Son to die on the cross for our sins.  None of God’s redemption comes in pat, instant answers.  If God must suffer so much on our behalf, where do we get off thinking he’ll satisfy our selfish desires to be made perfect without any pain?

We serve a patient God; a God who so desires our love, devotion, and loyalty that he’s willing to carefully craft those characteristics within us over the course of our lives.  We undercut God’s care for us when we insist that he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants–so why doesn’t he just take our sin away here and now, make us perfect here and now?  We are humans created in his image, placed here in space to represent God in time.  We were created to exist in time; why would God take no time to accomplish something that he created to happen within time?  He would over-ride our nature as humans if he were to do that.  Miracles do certainly happen, but many of the miracles we have recorded for us in Scripture address the healing of physical maladies that would not on their own heal over time; in this way, we see God intervening in time to instantly heal wounds that had existed for years, if not decades.  While he may at times work in such extraordinary ways, we should not expect the extraordinary to dominate the ordinary in our lives.  The ordinary ways of God accomplishing his will in our lives are just as glorious as the extraordinary ways; what is evident from both is that God’s power over-rides the power of sin and evil in our lives.

Just some thoughts…

A Bit on Babblefish May 29, 2008

This is a link to an article on what’s called miracle fruit.  In effect it is a babblefish for the tongue, translating sour flavors to sweet ones for up to an hour.  Lemon ice cream in Guinness tastes good on this flavor trip.  Just thought I’d share…

A Bit on Deliverance, Pt. 5 February 29, 2008

Irrevocable goodness and justice act as Jesus’ tools of coercion. He does not coerce with tools of oppression, but with tools of freedom. We are drawn to him because we were created by and for him. We are compelled to do his will because he has seen and known us in our distress, and delivered us from it. We don’t proclaim any whimpy “Hosanna” then; we resonate the truth, “Blessed is the King of Israel” because he has poured out his blessings upon us by shedding his own blood for us. We don’t sing as those created for the order of the world as it is now, but as those who are redeemed for the world as it is becoming and will one day fully be. And, as the church, we are part of the world’s transformative process. We are the ones Jesus mentions in his answer to Pilate—everyone on the side of truth listens to me. We don’t conform our lives to the hopes and expectations of the world, but to the reality of our King Jesus.

In sum, Jesus’ kingdom is from above. He defeats the cosmic powers of sin, death, and the devil so that earthly powers that rely on them are robbed of their power and authority. Death is no longer ultimate, so those rulers who use it coercively and tyrannically lose their central threat. Starvation and thirst no longer hold ultimate sway, the loss of loved ones, the loss of land, the loss of wealth—by Jesus’ sacrifice, resurrection, and enthronement as King, all these things are unremittingly relegated to this age. As King, Jesus exercises authority over the systems and structures that so often provide earthly kings with their power. When those kings submit themselves to the rule of Jesus, they are able to govern justly and mercifully. When they reject the rule of Jesus, they forfeit their legacy—their evil deeds and murderous pursuits will be reversed at the end of the age. It’s not that Jesus no longer cares if his followers suffer or die; indeed he does, but when there’s no other alternative, Jesus has promised that death is not their end and he has guaranteed that it shall lose all influence whatsoever. Indeed, his death demonstrates the extent and depth of his care for his people. His heavenly rule gives us hope now because he makes it possible for us to live in the confidence of resurrection and complete redemption. When earthly rulers call us to rebel against God, we have the ability to stand in the face of death without fear. This is precisely how the early church stood before the Roman Empire; the rulers had lost the ability to employ the fear of death as a tactic, and the church flourished.

A Bit on Deliverance, Pt. 2 February 26, 2008

In John 18, Jesus says that his kingdom is not from this world—otherwise his servants would prevent his arrest.  Rather, his kingdom is from another place.  His authority comes from a place where he does not have to win power with a sword or slaughter his enemies in order to have the throne.  He realizes that the greatest threat to his rule comes not from Caesar or Augustus or from the chief priests or the Pharisees; rather, the greatest threat to his rule and the well-being of his people are the cosmic forces that have enslaved humanity and distorted the image of God in us.  This is how, as the Son of David even, Jesus supercedes every king that has gone before him.  He does not coerce by imposing the threat of death and evil, oppressive tactics against his enemies or disloyal subjects; instead, he robs those coercive techniques of their permanent influence.  Those who serve him as king have no reason to fear the tactics of earthly kings and rulers.  When we encounter Jesus, then, we encounter the King and Messiah who breaks the expectations of worldly politics—he fights to the death, not just to be remembered with honor but so no other instance of death will hold one of his own in the grave.  He won’t settle to just protect his borders so his people can all die of ‘natural’ causes; our King defeats the greatest of all enemies, taking a top-down approach to our freedom from all kinds of oppression.  He has defeated death, he is driving back evil day by day, and there will be a day when every vestige of revolt and rebellion against God will be absent among us and within us.

A Bit on Deliverance, Pt. 1 February 25, 2008

John 12:12-19 reads,

The next day the great crowd that had come for the Feast heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Blessed is the King of Israel!” Jesus found a young donkey and sat upon it, as it is written,
“Do not be afraid, O Daughter of Zion;
see, your king is coming,
seated on a donkey’s colt.”

At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that they had done these things to him.

Now the crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. Many people, because they had heard that he had given this miraculous sign, went out to meet him. So the Pharisees said to one another, “See, this is getting us nowhere. Look how the whole world has gone after him!”

John 18:33-37 reads:

Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

“Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?”

“Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “It was your people and your chief priests who handed you over to me. What is it you have done?”

Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.”

“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus answered, “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

In these two passages, we see the gap between Israel’s expectations for the Messiah and the reality of the Messiah presented in Jesus. The Jews had been anticipating a political ruler who would come and displace the thrones of their secular rulers, conquer the Roman armies, and return the temple to the glory days of Solomon. At his point of entry into Jerusalem, Jesus does not avoid these expectations. The Jews had the faith to keep hoping, even if what they were hoping for was a narrow vision of the promises of God to them. When Jesus rides in on a donkey, he is identifying himself as a political ruler. The kings and judges usually rode into the capital city on a donkey, signifying their regal authority. When the king comes into the city seated on a donkey, it usually means he has defeated the enemies and is now processing into the city in triumph. That’s what the Zechariah 9:9 passage that John quotes indicated to the original hearers—the king coming in on a donkey is the king victorious.

From all appearances, it seems that Jesus is exactly what the Jews had been expecting and hoping for. He enters Jerusalem in the symbolic manner that would indicate his imminent ascendancy to the throne there. Even the Pharisees unwittingly recognized how fitting Jesus was for the role of Israel’s Messiah when in verse 19 they grumble that “the whole world has gone after him.” Israel’s king and Messiah was going to be the King of kings and Lord of lords, meaning the foreign nations of the whole world would recognize him as the supreme ruler. But what did the people see that signified him as the ultimate ruler? John tells us in 12:17 that these people who were going out to meet him were doing so because they had seen him raise Lazarus from the dead; it’s not just that Jesus is the ruler of earthly kings and powers, but he has already exercised power and authority over death, over cosmic powers. The King of the Jews would not accede his throne by normal political overthrow; rather, he would win the peoples of the world to himself by defeating the forces of evil and death that enslaved them. This is what the Pharisees don’t understand; this unfathomable attention that Jesus receives is a result of his miracles, such as the raising of Lazarus. What no one, at this point, understands is that Jesus isn’t going to defeat worldly powers through matching steel to steel; rather, he’s going to remove the weapons of fear and oppression that so many abusive, coercive rulers use to maintain their positions of power and authority. By defeating death and evil altogether, by removing the reason to fear death and bodily harm, by undoing the manipulation of evil and sin with goodness and sacrifice, Jesus has undermined every earthly king and ruler who is fashioning their own kingdoms.

A Bit on Reconciliation: Thoughts from Miroslav Volf February 13, 2008

Some quotes from Miroslav Volf, The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly in a Violent World, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 224-28.

This book is Volf’s personal wrestling with the requirements of forgiveness and reconciliation that come in being Christian. He shares his experience with interrogation in communist Yugoslavia of the early 1980s and processes through what reconciliation is possible here and now, and what reconciliation we can place our hope on in the new world. At the end of the book, he recounts multiple imagined reconciliation attempts with his interrogator, Captain G. These imagined encounters enable him to move towards forgiveness without ever having the opportunity to confront Captain G. again in this life, though he tried to find him. As all of us have been wronged know, we play and replay conversations with the wrongdoer in our minds. Sometimes we are given the opportunity to have that conversation, sometimes we have to settle for the imagination until all things are set right in the new heavens and the new earth. Volf’s failed attempts hit close to home on how those initial imagined encounters go—we say the vengeful thing, we can’t see ourselves as sinners but vilify the offender, we want to make the other person feel our pain. But after laying out some of these scenarios, Volf gets to the point where he’s able to imagine truly offering forgiveness to Captain G. in the presence of God. He ends that conversation this way:

“But you also should understand that what I have done [in forgiving you] is possible only because of God. I don’t mean that God just made my forgiveness happen, like some magical trick. To be frank, I am sometimes angry at God for forgiving you. At those times I ask, What right does the Almighty have to forgive someone for an offense against me? And why should I have to remember the offense against me as an offense forgiven by God? What’s even more unsettling, since my faith teaches that in Christ God has reconciled my offender and me to each other, I have to think of us as already in some sense reconciled. That seems preposterous! But then I remind myself that when you wronged me you sinned most egregiously not against me but against God, and God forgave you of that sin just as God forgave me of my sin. Then remembering your wrongdoing as forgiven by God helps me to forgive it myself. And then remembering our reconciliation by God in Christ helps me to reconcile with you face-to-face.”

After this imagined encounter, Volf shares with a friend about his imagined experiences with Captain G. We don’t all get here quickly, but this is reconciliation motivated by Gospel.

He writes:

I told a friend about the encounters I’d imagined between Captain G. and me and about my labor of reconciliation. She was puzzled.

“Your brand of reconciliation seems cheap to me,” she said.

“Why cheap?” I asked, just to hear her say what I knew was on her mind.

“You’re letting him off the hook! He and the likes of him should have charges pressed against them. Your Captain G. should be punished: You harm others, you pay. It’s that simple. Otherwise you’ll have evildoers growing like weeds.”

“Punishment is too petty, and it doesn’t help that much. I want more. I want Captain G. dead.”

“What?! Where did that come from? You seem to me to want the ultimate punishment for him, not no punishment. I fail to see where reconciliation fits in to that picture! Which is it: death or unconditional forgiveness? Isn’t there some middle ground between the two extremes?”

“No, there isn’t—at least not good middle ground. Those extremes may sound incompatible, but they aren’t. This ‘death’ that I’m talking about is the word the Apostle Paul uses when he speaks of human transformation. He describes it as dying and rising with Christ. I want Captain G. to become a new person—dead to his old self and alive to his new self. I believe that Christ took all of our deserved punishment upon himself when he died on the cross. The only ‘punishment’ left for Captain G. to undergo is this ‘death’ to his old self.”

“And what if he doesn’t want to die?”

“Then we’ll want to make sure that he doesn’t pose a danger to others. What I am against is retribution. It’s incompatible with forgiveness and reconciliation. I am for transformation and, when necessary, containment and discipline, including incarceration. Do you think that’s cheap?”

“He hasn’t paid for what he’s done! Isn’t that cheap?”

“On the contrary—as expensive as it gets. In Christ, God was judged in his place!”

“God certainly comes in handy for you—does all the important work.”

“Would you have me believe that the Source of all that exists and the merciful Guide for all who walk the path of life just sits in a far corner of heaven twiddling the almighty thumbs? Either God exists and is then at the center of everything and affects it all, or God doesn’t exist. It is foolish to believe in a God who does nothing. An idle God is a false god.”

“There are worse ways for God to be false.”

“I agree. But I wouldn’t count on shouldering the sin of the world among the ways of being a false god—and certainly not a cheap form of reconciliation!”

A Bit On Natural Disasters and Human Responsibility February 6, 2008

I was thinking today about natural disasters. Here’re some of my thoughts.  I assume here that the Garden was the pattern for all creation and that Adam and Eve acted as representatives of all humanity.

Created in the image of God, we are responsible for allowing evil to enter creation on account of the fall. Prior to the encounter with the serpent, though, it seems that the charge of God to Adam and Eve would have involved them noticing when foreign and malicious creatures entered the Garden. Well before the serpent ever had a chance to speak, then, Adam and Eve should have expelled him from the Garden (yes, this is somewhat speculative, but I think it makes sense). As the rulers of creation, Adam and Eve should have eliminated any and all threat to the well-being of the growing plot of Paradise they were entrusted with. Instead, when directly confronted with the enemy, they chose to trust him over God.

So where did that get them? God, still honoring their position as rulers of creation, inquires about their sudden need to hide from him. He does not accuse, but elicits a confession (sort of) of their failure. By welcoming and submitting to a malicious outsider, Adam and Eve admitted the worst kind of disaster into their kingdom. Both their dominion and their dynasty were cursed on account of their foolishness; the land would work against Adam in his pursuit of food, and human life would no longer be secure in creation–meaning the life-long task of a mother bearing up her children would be wrought with the possibility of death and other kinds of destruction, such as lack of sufficient food.

The action God takes is in driving them from that place as broken images of their Creator. While he is still the sovereign ruler, never at any point does God go back on the promises he makes or the covenants he cuts. He created Adam and Eve as rulers of creation, and promises that–in the midst of the curse–the seed of the woman will crush the head of the serpent. As the pinnacle of creation, humanity would be the one to drive out the chaos we had invited in. As God makes covenants with Abraham, Moses, and David, we see his commitment to honor the created dignity of humanity. He never bypasses the responsibility he gave humans on their first day of existence. His redemption, in every way, comes through human agency–and fails through human agency as well. And this redemption is not just a redemption of the soul or a cleansing of guilt, but it is the redemption that will make all of creation into a place fit for the dwelling of its Creator, a place where no human life is threatened by the vicissitudes of creation’s self-adjustment (fires, floods, hurricanes, tsunamis, etc.).

Because God chose humanity as his regal representatives on earth, though, he does not overstep our bounds. While his power would permit him to, his character and will would not. God is setting all things right through the very people through whom all things went wrong. We may look at the condition of the world, though, and wonder how anything we could do would ever be able to change things like tsunamis and earthquakes.  Even our best engineers can’t manufacture a way to prevent tectonic shifts thousands of feet below sea level.  How can God’s plan for the redemption of all creation be a good plan, then? We see his commitment to this plan of redemption foremost in the incarnation of the Son.  As the old formula goes, he became what he was not to do what we could not, but he remained what he was so we could become what we are not.  In other words, by being fully man and fully God, Jesus creates the world anew as the King and ruler for which humanity, creation, and the Spirit are still groaning.  He has brought new creation in his resurrection from the dead, but that new creation has not yet been made effective in every nook and cranny of the world.  The promise of redemption invested in his second advent is the banishment of all sin and all evil from creation.

Given that sin is any violation of God’s will for his world and evil is anything that seeks to thwart or prevent wholeness in creation (including the abundant life Jesus promised), this means that the threat of natural disasters on human life and well-being will pass when humanity takes its rightful place as benevolent rulers over creation–primarily in the person of Jesus, the Son of David.  Because God has willed that humanity represent his rule in creation and is not willing to overstep that declaration, he does not undermine us by preventing events that, by virtue of admitting the serpent as an authority in the Garden, we are responsible for admitting into creation.  But he has already taken all the necessary steps to work against the rupture in the order of the world that has made natural disasters a reality, and in his desire that none should perish he will patiently rule earth from heaven until that final day comes when he will claim his throne here among us.

A Bit on Fear, Part 4 October 16, 2007

Considering obedience as freedom and grace, we can look afresh at Jesus.  If the fear of the Lord means using everything at our disposal to get ourselves in the way of God’s best intentions for us; and if the law is the way God chooses to communicate his best intentions to us so that we would be conformed to his character and personality, then Matthew 5:17-18 should elicit a resounding ‘of course!’ from us.

Jesus says: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.  I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.”

 If obeying the law is fearing God and Jesus comes as the perfect image of the invisible God, then Jesus is the ultimate human picture of what it means to use everything at our disposal to get in the way of God’s best intentions for us.  In fact, clothing ourselves in Christ is getting into God’s will.  We clothe ourselves in Christ, the flesh-and-blood human version of the scroll-and-ink law, the embodiment of the wisdom literature and the psalms, the climax of the OT narrative.  And in doing so, we find that everything that God has put at our disposal is just enough for each of us to begin witnessing the fullness of God’s gracious plan for the world and to participate in his pursuit of redemption for his creation.  And what do we have at our disposal?  Our heart, soul, and strength–our churches, friends, families, libraries, classrooms, computers, pasts, futures, jobs, bank accounts, starbucks accounts; our intellects, emotions, interests, desires, intentions, thoughts, bodies; in short, everything (but ‘everything’ can be so vague).

As God’s image bearers living under the reign of Jesus Christ, when we read the Old Testament commands to fear the Lord we can have confidence that Jesus has led us into the kind of relationship with God that will not spare us a single one of his best intentions for us.  We obey and participate by the grace of the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of the one in whom God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell–and we seek to be transformed in thought, emotion, intention, words, and actions to the image of Christ.  Our God has left us with many resources to enable us to fear him and love him wholly, and his Spirit gifts us with wisdom from the Scriptures so that we can grow more and more like our God in our character and personhood. 

Regulation of Religion October 11, 2007

There’s an insightful op-ed piece in the NY Times today that explores the dynamics behind government regulation of religion.  The author is Slavoj Zizek, a philosopher who takes matters of theology and religion very seriously.  It seems that the Chinese government has passed a law that requires all Tibetan regions to obtain permission for reincarnation to take place under their watch.  While this may offend our cultural sensitivity as Americans, Zizek provides a well-played rebuke to our regard for the heritage of other cultures.  Read it here.

A Bit on Evil: A Quote from Miroslav Volf October 2, 2007

In his book Free of Charge, Miroslav Volf writes,

Is evil, whether humanly caused or natural, God’s gift?  It is not.  Evil just inexplicably is.  God didn’t create it.  It’s a twisting of God’s creation, a negation of its original goodness, and therefore an assault on God.  In the end, God will finally and definitively overcome evil.  And even now God is engaged in countering it.  Just as God was mysteriously in the Crucified One, God is in the midst of humanity’s suffering, listening to every sigh, collecting every tear, resonating with the trembling with every fear-stricken heart.  Just as God was in the Resurrected One, God is in each helping hand, in each act of self-sacrifice, in each life laid down for another, and God occasionally even heals and protects without any human mediation.  God suffers and God helps (30).