This week's WordAction lesson is from Revelation 16 where the seven bowls of God's wrath are poured out. The lesson writer makes the point that "little is said from pulpits today about the wrath of God." He blames this on "cowardice and compromise, ... doubt and disbelief," noting that "modern pulpits ... are too often occupied by persons who are eager for acceptance, prestige, and reward."
Ironically, I find there is more risk in focusing on the love of God than on the wrath of God. I have been reminded several times that I need to "teach the truth." That "truth" would include not only the news that God is love and that there is a heaven to gain but also a strong warning that "the finally unrepentant shall suffer eternally in hell." (Manual, Church of the Nazarene, Article XVI.) Failing to include God's wrath in one's teaching is certainly not the road to acceptance, prestige, and reward where I teach! Rather, it can easily lead to accusations of being "soft on sin" and possible loss of position. Even those who want to focus on God's love for themselves like to hear and talk about the wrath coming on those who aren't walking the straight and narrow path.
Still, I don't focus much on the wrath of God. I grew up with an image of a frowning, disapproving Creator. Sure the song said: "the Father up above is looking down in love," but my experience with people who loved me provided plenty of evidence that love didn't mean an absence of disapproval and rebuke. With so few people who seemed to actually like me even when I put on my best face, how could I hope to earn the approval of a God who saw my every sin, heard my every lie and unkind word, and knew my every ugly thought? What a hopeless task it had to be to please God!
One of the stated goals of this week's lesson is "to place our complete trust in God and His mercy." As I have contemplated all this, it has struck me that, although I talk about God's love far more than His wrath, I actually place a lot of confidence, perhaps even "complete trust," in the justice of God as it is built into this world. Two verses are especially dear to me in this regard:
1. Galatians 6:7 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. (NIV)
2. Romans 12:17 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay." (NIV)
I depend on the truth of these two passages as support for an inner commitment to letting people "get away with murder." That commitment doesn't always (or even often) manage to overrule the emotional response to being wronged, but I fall back on those passages as the basis for letting go of the wrong as quickly as possible without demanding justice. Even if I do nothing, demand no apology, hold no grudge, plot no punishment, strike no blow in return, justice is built into this world. Nobody ever gets off scott-free. Sin has consequences. I depend on that. It helps me avoid a little more effectively the idea of taking justice into my own hands for fear God will overlook the wrong.
I don't need the bowls of wrath and the plagues of Revelation 16 for evidence to support my conviction that justice is always served in the end. I can observe the negative impact of sin all around me in this life. For example, the person who speaks to me in unloving tones, probably does not reserve those tones for me alone. I am likely far from the only person with whom he or she has conflict. I suspect the person who treats me like I'm an idiot lives in a world full of idiots and suffers no small amount of frustration. The person who makes strong demands of me likely lives in a world where the only way to get what he or she wants is to demand it. Nothing ever comes easily to them. Rather, they must scrabble for every foothold.
The natural tendency is for people to treat others as they are treated. Thus, the person who doesn't treat others well is unlikely to be treated well.
Is this the wrath of God? Does God rain lightning bolts, frogs, and hailstones down on those who fail to obey His law? Or is the wrath of God embodied in the consequences of sin built into the fabric of the universe and evident all around us? In Revelation 16, it is the former. Maybe that scene reflects some sort of reality. Or maybe it is highly symbolic and the wrath of God is more of a passive, "built-in," negative consequence of serving self.
I don't know what the reality of God's wrath is. I do know, however, that I live better when I cultivate my faith that justice is always served in some way, that, at some level, there are always negative consequences for negative actions. It's the key to peace, kindness, and forgiveness. I don't need to "get even" as long as I remain confident that God sees the wrong done and takes full responsibility for disciplining the wrongdoer.
God is love. And God is just. Righteousness brings heavenly bliss, sometimes surprisingly soon; unrighteousness brings terrible consequences, sometimes surprisingly soon. I'm counting on that.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
"Without the shedding of blood ..."
A quote from this week's lesson exposition:
A couple of thoughts along this line:
1) More intuitively obvious than bloodshed seems to be the requirement for recognition of the need for forgiveness before forgiveness can be received -- not because God isn't willing or able to give it but because the offender doesn't notice it being offered. If I don't realize that I need to be forgiven, God's offer of forgiveness is simply puzzling to me. Perhaps it takes a wound (to someone or something) deep enough to draw blood to reveal to me how desperately I need forgiveness and prompt me to receive it into my life.
2) Jesus' death brought forgiveness for others. Perhaps the full impact of sin isn't clear to us without seeing the ultimate effects of that sin in putting God Incarnate to a bloody, tortuous death. We weren't in Jerusalem that day, but we have all stood in the place of those who rejected Jesus and called for his death in order to get rid of him.
3) Is there figurative bleeding involved every time we extend forgiveness to others? Do we have to die just a little in order to let go of the wrongs done to us? Does that inner death give us a glimpse of what God sacrifices when He forgives?
I'm not sure there are any firm conclusions here, just some thoughts about the how and why behind this call for "the shedding of blood" in connection with forgiveness.
Though many have called the blood sacrifice of Jesus gory and unnecessary, the Scriptures teach just the opposite. “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9:22) is stated without equivocation.I am finding more and more that there is sense behind the laws given us in the Bible. As I read this statement, I wonder: Why? Why would forgiveness require the shedding of blood? And does it truly depend on "the blood sacrifice of Jesus"? Isn't a compassionate God free to have mercy on whom He will have mercy? Is He bound by some incomprehensible cosmic rule that blood must be shed before He can forgive?
A couple of thoughts along this line:
1) More intuitively obvious than bloodshed seems to be the requirement for recognition of the need for forgiveness before forgiveness can be received -- not because God isn't willing or able to give it but because the offender doesn't notice it being offered. If I don't realize that I need to be forgiven, God's offer of forgiveness is simply puzzling to me. Perhaps it takes a wound (to someone or something) deep enough to draw blood to reveal to me how desperately I need forgiveness and prompt me to receive it into my life.
2) Jesus' death brought forgiveness for others. Perhaps the full impact of sin isn't clear to us without seeing the ultimate effects of that sin in putting God Incarnate to a bloody, tortuous death. We weren't in Jerusalem that day, but we have all stood in the place of those who rejected Jesus and called for his death in order to get rid of him.
3) Is there figurative bleeding involved every time we extend forgiveness to others? Do we have to die just a little in order to let go of the wrongs done to us? Does that inner death give us a glimpse of what God sacrifices when He forgives?
I'm not sure there are any firm conclusions here, just some thoughts about the how and why behind this call for "the shedding of blood" in connection with forgiveness.
Friday, May 01, 2009
The "flesh" or the "sinful nature"?
I print out the scripture for every week's lesson. The lesson exposition uses the New International Version (NIV) of the Bible. Our church has NIV pew Bibles. I don't have a problem using NIV. Usually. This week's lesson is from Romans 8 and Galatians 5. I'm printing it out from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) for one reason - the Greek word sarx. The NIV translates it as "sinful nature" in these passages with "flesh" in the footnotes. The NRSV uses "flesh" in the text. I think the difference is important enough to switch translations.
I'm not sure why the NIV uses "sinful nature," but it opens the door to the idea that we can get rid of that nature. After all, who needs a sinful nature? Cry to God and He will cleanse you of that nature so that you are no longer bothered by it.
It's a little more difficult to put forth the idea of ridding ourselves of "flesh." We live in flesh. We can deny the appetites of our fleshly selves, but if we get rid of our flesh, our life on this earth will be over.
In both these passages, Paul contrasts life according to the flesh/sinful nature with life according to the Spirit. If we talk about the "sinful nature," we are choosing between right and wrong. In theory, we can totally eliminate wrong from our lives, get rid of the sinful nature completely. However, if we stick to the word "flesh," it's easy to see that the pull of the flesh includes legitimate appetites and desires. When my flesh is hungry, I need to eat in order to maintain my health. However, if I am walking in the Spirit, I won't let food become the focus of my life. It's not that I quit eating but that I make a conscious decision when and how much I will eat. The "flesh" doesn't dictate my actions and choices.
Freedom from the "flesh" doesn't mean I no longer have desires and appetites that trace back to my physical body and my human nature. Not only do I need to eat and sleep and maintain body warmth but I also need a sense of significance and value and purpose in life. If I follow the dictates of the "flesh," I will elevate those natural needs and desires to the place where they dictate all my actions. Everything will be about me and my needs. Walking in the Spirit doesn't mean no longer having those needs and desires. It means recognizing them for what they are and looking for legitimate ways to "keep soul and body together" while keeping in step with the Spirit. I am free from the "flesh" in that it no longer controls me.
By the grace of God -- when I am at my best -- I choose to deny the self-focus that tugs at me and make deliberate choices that glorify God and edify those around me. I feed my body what it needs without letting food become my focus in life. Similarly, I find personal value and significance in being loved by God and then focus on those around me without further concern for myself.
This is good stuff we're studying here. I think the "flesh" part of it is important.
I'm not sure why the NIV uses "sinful nature," but it opens the door to the idea that we can get rid of that nature. After all, who needs a sinful nature? Cry to God and He will cleanse you of that nature so that you are no longer bothered by it.
It's a little more difficult to put forth the idea of ridding ourselves of "flesh." We live in flesh. We can deny the appetites of our fleshly selves, but if we get rid of our flesh, our life on this earth will be over.
In both these passages, Paul contrasts life according to the flesh/sinful nature with life according to the Spirit. If we talk about the "sinful nature," we are choosing between right and wrong. In theory, we can totally eliminate wrong from our lives, get rid of the sinful nature completely. However, if we stick to the word "flesh," it's easy to see that the pull of the flesh includes legitimate appetites and desires. When my flesh is hungry, I need to eat in order to maintain my health. However, if I am walking in the Spirit, I won't let food become the focus of my life. It's not that I quit eating but that I make a conscious decision when and how much I will eat. The "flesh" doesn't dictate my actions and choices.
Freedom from the "flesh" doesn't mean I no longer have desires and appetites that trace back to my physical body and my human nature. Not only do I need to eat and sleep and maintain body warmth but I also need a sense of significance and value and purpose in life. If I follow the dictates of the "flesh," I will elevate those natural needs and desires to the place where they dictate all my actions. Everything will be about me and my needs. Walking in the Spirit doesn't mean no longer having those needs and desires. It means recognizing them for what they are and looking for legitimate ways to "keep soul and body together" while keeping in step with the Spirit. I am free from the "flesh" in that it no longer controls me.
By the grace of God -- when I am at my best -- I choose to deny the self-focus that tugs at me and make deliberate choices that glorify God and edify those around me. I feed my body what it needs without letting food become my focus in life. Similarly, I find personal value and significance in being loved by God and then focus on those around me without further concern for myself.
This is good stuff we're studying here. I think the "flesh" part of it is important.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Be holy as I am holy.
A speaker I heard recently said, "I fear in the postmodern world that we will have relevance without reverence, application without awe." Connecting such a fear to postmodernity puzzled me. Hasn't relevance been the goal of those doing ministry to baby boomers? Wasn't application a specialty of the holiness movement a century ago? Look at the music to see the emphasis. The gospel songs from 100 years ago are testimonies to what is happening in 'my' life.
"I've found a friend in Jesus. He's everything to me. He's the lily of the valley to my soul."
"He brought me out of the miry clay."
"Once I was bound by sin's galling fetters, chained like a slave I struggled in vain... Glorious freedom, wonderful freedom, no more in chains of sin I repine."
"Living by faith, in Jesus alone."
God was the means by which sunshine arrived in my soul. The songs revolved around what salvation/sanctification did for me.
Moving up to the 1970s, we have big spiral-bound books of music dealing with the second coming of Christ, the little flowers who never worry, admonitions to "consider the lily," celebrations of feeling at home in the presence of Jesus, being part of the family of God. Where is the awe? Where the reverence?
It seems to me that the top 25 worship songs today stand in stark contrast in their focus on God Almighty -- "How Great Is Our God," "Holy Is the Lord," "Lord, I Lift Your Name on High," "You Are My King," "God of Wonders," "How Great Thou Art."
Oops. That last one, although it is on the current top 25 list at CCLI, was actually written in 1953. How fitting that the two songs on the list coming to us from previous generations -- "How Great Thou Art" and "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)" -- are songs that glorify the greatness of God and His grace.
I'm puzzled as to why the eminent speaker I heard linked a lack of awe and reverence with postmodernity. It disturbs me in that there are plenty of legitimate concerns connected with postmodernity without voicing fear in this area. I think losing sight of the transcendence and majesty of God is a danger in every generation. That danger is always worth keeping in mind. Still, it seems that for now the pendulum has swung more toward the opposite danger of viewing God Almighty as watching us from on high, "from a distance," and not necessarily involved in our daily lives at an intimate level.
This week's WordAction lesson calls us to "Be holy as [God] is holy." Part of the challenge of that statement is to recognize that the holiness of God is part of His transcendence, putting Him far beyond us, and yet to accept the commandment to be holy as humans in a way that reflects the unreachable holiness of God. It's an interesting challenge.
"I've found a friend in Jesus. He's everything to me. He's the lily of the valley to my soul."
"He brought me out of the miry clay."
"Once I was bound by sin's galling fetters, chained like a slave I struggled in vain... Glorious freedom, wonderful freedom, no more in chains of sin I repine."
"Living by faith, in Jesus alone."
God was the means by which sunshine arrived in my soul. The songs revolved around what salvation/sanctification did for me.
Moving up to the 1970s, we have big spiral-bound books of music dealing with the second coming of Christ, the little flowers who never worry, admonitions to "consider the lily," celebrations of feeling at home in the presence of Jesus, being part of the family of God. Where is the awe? Where the reverence?
It seems to me that the top 25 worship songs today stand in stark contrast in their focus on God Almighty -- "How Great Is Our God," "Holy Is the Lord," "Lord, I Lift Your Name on High," "You Are My King," "God of Wonders," "How Great Thou Art."
Oops. That last one, although it is on the current top 25 list at CCLI, was actually written in 1953. How fitting that the two songs on the list coming to us from previous generations -- "How Great Thou Art" and "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)" -- are songs that glorify the greatness of God and His grace.
I'm puzzled as to why the eminent speaker I heard linked a lack of awe and reverence with postmodernity. It disturbs me in that there are plenty of legitimate concerns connected with postmodernity without voicing fear in this area. I think losing sight of the transcendence and majesty of God is a danger in every generation. That danger is always worth keeping in mind. Still, it seems that for now the pendulum has swung more toward the opposite danger of viewing God Almighty as watching us from on high, "from a distance," and not necessarily involved in our daily lives at an intimate level.
This week's WordAction lesson calls us to "Be holy as [God] is holy." Part of the challenge of that statement is to recognize that the holiness of God is part of His transcendence, putting Him far beyond us, and yet to accept the commandment to be holy as humans in a way that reflects the unreachable holiness of God. It's an interesting challenge.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sin -- strictly speaking
Sin popped up in last week's discussion and threatened to take over. Are we sinners or not? Can we live without sin? Can we claim to be sinless?
I wasn't ready to discuss it last week. This week it is part of the lesson exposition from 1 John 3. It's a delicate topic. There are landmines here.
The first challenge is to define sin. Some define it as any thought or deed that falls short of the best practices we know. By that definition, we are all guilty and can approach God only by way of grace. It's not a terrible viewpoint, but it leaves sin as inescapable. Acts of sin, followed by confession, repentance, and forgiveness become a never-ending exercise for Christians in this view.
In contrast, the Wesleyan definition of sin brings in an element of purposeful rebellion. In the oft-quoted words of John Wesley, sin is a "voluntary transgression of a known law of God." In this view, I know it's wrong and I choose to do it anyway. I see the line in the sand and deliberately stick my big toe over it. Wesleyans promote the belief that there is a place of freedom where we no longer have rebellion stirring in our hearts, where we are content to accept God's boundaries and no longer struggle against them. There is value in this view of sin. It tells us about freedom and the possibility of walking in daily unbroken communion with God.
The difficulties come when Wesleyans start to flesh out the face of sin. Is it a sin to dance? to watch certain movies or television shows? to smoke? to drink alcoholic beverages? to lie? to shop on Sunday? to eat enough to become and remain obese in a world where others starve? to gamble? to dress immodestly? to break the speed limit? What is the "known law of God" in these areas? Can we truly get it all right and avoid all the things on the list that we decide are sins? If we avoid all those things will we be sinless?
Part of what we're missing is the rest of the Wesley quotation:
If we take this fuller definition back to our list of possible sins, it makes the answers both easier and more difficult. To take one example, is gambling a voluntary breach of the law of love? It takes some serious scrutiny to answer that question as we contemplate all of the possible ways in which gambling could hurt those around us. Are we voluntarily breaching the law of love toward God and/or others when we walk into a casino with a roll of quarters? There's definite room for discussion here.
But why are we discussing gambling when we made a cutting remark to a family member before we left the house this morning? when we took steps to protect our own interests at the expense of our coworkers' interests? when we ignore the hurting people around us? when we build social groups that shut people out instead of inviting them in? If all it takes to sin is being rude when we have the capacity to be kind, we have a lot bigger problem to deal with than the gambling industry. Even believing that God can enable me to be kind when I have the capacity to make that choice isn't helpful. How much of my impatience with people is a voluntary decision to rebel against the law of love as opposed to being a sign that my resources are exhausted and I am unable to choose patience? If my irritation isn't a voluntary act of rebellion against the law of love, where does all this leave me?
That is the real question. Can the work of God in our lives enable us to escape our self-concern and live within the law of love? Can God give us the resources to be consistently kind in situations that have always exhausted our patience?
To me, the Wesleyan answer is that we will never exhaust the possibilities for what God can do in our lives. There will always be one more step to take to become more loving. And it is always possible to take that step in the grace and power of God. The possibilities are beyond imagination. I can look back and marvel at the progress I have made by the grace of God and then look ahead in anticipation for where tomorrow will take me.
Can we live without rebelling against God? Yes! When we place ourselves totally in His hands, we can lie still and let Him shape us as He will. And even though there's always more molding to do and we are never finished in this life, our submission to the process will delight Him. We can rest in His goodness and allow Him to teach us how to live in loving ways. Where we are is good; His grace covers our imperfections. And yet, we continually strive to go further in and up. There is more than we have yet discovered!
I wasn't ready to discuss it last week. This week it is part of the lesson exposition from 1 John 3. It's a delicate topic. There are landmines here.
The first challenge is to define sin. Some define it as any thought or deed that falls short of the best practices we know. By that definition, we are all guilty and can approach God only by way of grace. It's not a terrible viewpoint, but it leaves sin as inescapable. Acts of sin, followed by confession, repentance, and forgiveness become a never-ending exercise for Christians in this view.
In contrast, the Wesleyan definition of sin brings in an element of purposeful rebellion. In the oft-quoted words of John Wesley, sin is a "voluntary transgression of a known law of God." In this view, I know it's wrong and I choose to do it anyway. I see the line in the sand and deliberately stick my big toe over it. Wesleyans promote the belief that there is a place of freedom where we no longer have rebellion stirring in our hearts, where we are content to accept God's boundaries and no longer struggle against them. There is value in this view of sin. It tells us about freedom and the possibility of walking in daily unbroken communion with God.
The difficulties come when Wesleyans start to flesh out the face of sin. Is it a sin to dance? to watch certain movies or television shows? to smoke? to drink alcoholic beverages? to lie? to shop on Sunday? to eat enough to become and remain obese in a world where others starve? to gamble? to dress immodestly? to break the speed limit? What is the "known law of God" in these areas? Can we truly get it all right and avoid all the things on the list that we decide are sins? If we avoid all those things will we be sinless?
Part of what we're missing is the rest of the Wesley quotation:
Nothing is sin, strictly speaking, but a voluntary transgression of a known law of God. Therefore every voluntary breach of the law of love is sin; and nothing else, if we speak properly... Let love fill your heart, and it is enough.
If we take this fuller definition back to our list of possible sins, it makes the answers both easier and more difficult. To take one example, is gambling a voluntary breach of the law of love? It takes some serious scrutiny to answer that question as we contemplate all of the possible ways in which gambling could hurt those around us. Are we voluntarily breaching the law of love toward God and/or others when we walk into a casino with a roll of quarters? There's definite room for discussion here.
But why are we discussing gambling when we made a cutting remark to a family member before we left the house this morning? when we took steps to protect our own interests at the expense of our coworkers' interests? when we ignore the hurting people around us? when we build social groups that shut people out instead of inviting them in? If all it takes to sin is being rude when we have the capacity to be kind, we have a lot bigger problem to deal with than the gambling industry. Even believing that God can enable me to be kind when I have the capacity to make that choice isn't helpful. How much of my impatience with people is a voluntary decision to rebel against the law of love as opposed to being a sign that my resources are exhausted and I am unable to choose patience? If my irritation isn't a voluntary act of rebellion against the law of love, where does all this leave me?
That is the real question. Can the work of God in our lives enable us to escape our self-concern and live within the law of love? Can God give us the resources to be consistently kind in situations that have always exhausted our patience?
To me, the Wesleyan answer is that we will never exhaust the possibilities for what God can do in our lives. There will always be one more step to take to become more loving. And it is always possible to take that step in the grace and power of God. The possibilities are beyond imagination. I can look back and marvel at the progress I have made by the grace of God and then look ahead in anticipation for where tomorrow will take me.
Can we live without rebelling against God? Yes! When we place ourselves totally in His hands, we can lie still and let Him shape us as He will. And even though there's always more molding to do and we are never finished in this life, our submission to the process will delight Him. We can rest in His goodness and allow Him to teach us how to live in loving ways. Where we are is good; His grace covers our imperfections. And yet, we continually strive to go further in and up. There is more than we have yet discovered!
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. - 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)
Thursday, March 12, 2009
1 John 2:18, 22 - The Antichrist
Dear children, this is the last hour; and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come.
Who is the liar? It is the man who denies that Jesus is the Christ. Such a man is the antichrist -- he denies the Father and the Son.
"I like Jesus, but I don't like God." These are the words of a child who knows "Jesus loves me" and has seen the pictures of Jesus with children or carrying a little lamb back to safety. Jesus is kind and loving. In contrast, in this childish view, God is a wrathful judge, ready to wipe out entire nations and send sinners into everlasting fire. This is the God who rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), who sent plagues and death on those who challenged His authority, who sent prophets to warn of judgment to come and then executed that judgment. This is an unapproachable, angry deity. There's not much about this God to love.
That is, there's not much to love unless you're a Pharisee and have managed to get on the good side of this angry God. If you can manage that, there is power to be had. You can support this angry, vengeful God from the sidelines while He punishes sinners. You can celebrate every misfortune that strikes those less pious than you as a sign that God is still in the smiting business. You can even be his henchman (within legal limits, of course), helping God with the smiting. If you're a Pharisee and someone comes along who says he is God's representative in the world, God's Son even, but hangs out with sinners and doesn't follow your carefully crafted rules for staying on God's good side, you can recognize him as a fraud. When you say, "This man cannot be the Christ because he is nothing like the righteous God we know and love," what you are really saying is, "I don't believe that God is compassionate and kind. I don't believe that He loves sinners. This man cannot be the Christ because, if he does indeed represent God as he claims, it's not the God I know."
To deny that Jesus is the Christ, the anointed Son of God, is to elevate an image of God that doesn't fit with the life and teachings of Jesus. In rejecting Jesus as the Son, one rejects God as a loving, compassionate Father, full of grace and healing.
This week's scripture speaks of the antichrist, the person who is against the idea that Jesus is the Christ, the divine Son of God. Such a denial shows that the speaker doesn't know God well enough to recognize Jesus as the manifestation of the nature of God. The lesson to be learned is that any time there is a gap between our perception of Jesus and our perception of the Father, we know that there is a misperception somewhere. To deny that Jesus is a perfect representation of God made flesh is to fill the role of the antichrist, whether we are saying that Jesus isn't as righteous and holy as God is or that God isn't as compassionate and loving as Jesus was.
Philip said, "Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us."
Jesus answered: "Don't you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'? Don't you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father living in me, who is doing his work" (John 14:8-10)
Who is the liar? It is the man who denies that Jesus is the Christ. Such a man is the antichrist -- he denies the Father and the Son.
"I like Jesus, but I don't like God." These are the words of a child who knows "Jesus loves me" and has seen the pictures of Jesus with children or carrying a little lamb back to safety. Jesus is kind and loving. In contrast, in this childish view, God is a wrathful judge, ready to wipe out entire nations and send sinners into everlasting fire. This is the God who rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), who sent plagues and death on those who challenged His authority, who sent prophets to warn of judgment to come and then executed that judgment. This is an unapproachable, angry deity. There's not much about this God to love.
That is, there's not much to love unless you're a Pharisee and have managed to get on the good side of this angry God. If you can manage that, there is power to be had. You can support this angry, vengeful God from the sidelines while He punishes sinners. You can celebrate every misfortune that strikes those less pious than you as a sign that God is still in the smiting business. You can even be his henchman (within legal limits, of course), helping God with the smiting. If you're a Pharisee and someone comes along who says he is God's representative in the world, God's Son even, but hangs out with sinners and doesn't follow your carefully crafted rules for staying on God's good side, you can recognize him as a fraud. When you say, "This man cannot be the Christ because he is nothing like the righteous God we know and love," what you are really saying is, "I don't believe that God is compassionate and kind. I don't believe that He loves sinners. This man cannot be the Christ because, if he does indeed represent God as he claims, it's not the God I know."
To deny that Jesus is the Christ, the anointed Son of God, is to elevate an image of God that doesn't fit with the life and teachings of Jesus. In rejecting Jesus as the Son, one rejects God as a loving, compassionate Father, full of grace and healing.
This week's scripture speaks of the antichrist, the person who is against the idea that Jesus is the Christ, the divine Son of God. Such a denial shows that the speaker doesn't know God well enough to recognize Jesus as the manifestation of the nature of God. The lesson to be learned is that any time there is a gap between our perception of Jesus and our perception of the Father, we know that there is a misperception somewhere. To deny that Jesus is a perfect representation of God made flesh is to fill the role of the antichrist, whether we are saying that Jesus isn't as righteous and holy as God is or that God isn't as compassionate and loving as Jesus was.
Philip said, "Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us."
Jesus answered: "Don't you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'? Don't you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father living in me, who is doing his work" (John 14:8-10)
Sunday, March 01, 2009
1 John 2:6 - How did Jesus walk?
Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did (1 John 2:6).
I love this verse. It boils the whole idea of being a Christian (i.e., a follower of Jesus Christ) down to one thing: following the example of Jesus, walking as he walked. All we have to do is find out how Jesus walked and emulate his example.
The days of the WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) bracelet are mostly past for now. They traced back to Charles Sheldon's book In His Stepsfrom 1896, a novel following a group of people who were challenged to ask themselves the "What would Jesus do?" question as they went about their days. The 1990s saw a resurgence of interest in the book and a plethora of products designed to once again remind people to ask the question.
I'm not sure, however, the WWJD fad translated well into people devoting themselves the actual record of how Jesus walked. Saying that one wants to do what Jesus would do and applying some notion of what that means doesn't necessarily equate to thorough exposure to the message of the Gospels.
There seems to be two approaches to the question of how Jesus walked. One approach produces a list of what Jesus would and would not do. For example, He would be courteous to others and a diligent worker. He wouldn't do drugs or have sex before marriage. It tells us how to be good, but it falls far short of exposing us to the radical ideas of the Gospels.
The other approach isn't nearly so neat and clean. It requires reading and studying the accounts of Jesus' life and letting His teaching both by words and example saturate our lives and change us. I read the Gospels through every year, taking the entire year to do so. And I am still regularly surprised by what I find in them. The how-to-be-good lists don't come close. I have no fear of exhausting in a lifetime the breadth and depth of the lessons to be learned.
What a worthy goal John presents here -- to walk as Jesus walked. Getting there takes a lifetime and is well worth the investment.
I love this verse. It boils the whole idea of being a Christian (i.e., a follower of Jesus Christ) down to one thing: following the example of Jesus, walking as he walked. All we have to do is find out how Jesus walked and emulate his example.
The days of the WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) bracelet are mostly past for now. They traced back to Charles Sheldon's book In His Stepsfrom 1896, a novel following a group of people who were challenged to ask themselves the "What would Jesus do?" question as they went about their days. The 1990s saw a resurgence of interest in the book and a plethora of products designed to once again remind people to ask the question.
I'm not sure, however, the WWJD fad translated well into people devoting themselves the actual record of how Jesus walked. Saying that one wants to do what Jesus would do and applying some notion of what that means doesn't necessarily equate to thorough exposure to the message of the Gospels.
There seems to be two approaches to the question of how Jesus walked. One approach produces a list of what Jesus would and would not do. For example, He would be courteous to others and a diligent worker. He wouldn't do drugs or have sex before marriage. It tells us how to be good, but it falls far short of exposing us to the radical ideas of the Gospels.
The other approach isn't nearly so neat and clean. It requires reading and studying the accounts of Jesus' life and letting His teaching both by words and example saturate our lives and change us. I read the Gospels through every year, taking the entire year to do so. And I am still regularly surprised by what I find in them. The how-to-be-good lists don't come close. I have no fear of exhausting in a lifetime the breadth and depth of the lessons to be learned.
What a worthy goal John presents here -- to walk as Jesus walked. Getting there takes a lifetime and is well worth the investment.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
1 John 1:7
I tend to be a mathematical thinker -- linear, logical, analyzing the known to discover the unknown. The logical process behind computer programming fits me.
One of the most useful programming commands is the if/then statement. If A is true then do B (or go to C, or delete D). Everything depends on A being true. IF A is true, the THEN is automatically executed.
There are several if/then statements in the Bible. I like them. They speak to me.
John 15:7 -- "IF a man remains in me and I in him, [THEN] he will bear much fruit."
So if we want fruit, the key is to "remain" in Christ. The remaining is the action required to trigger the fruit-bearing, which is a natural byproduct. If we want fruit, we must focus, not on straining to push out some fruit blossoms, but on remaining in the vine.
Acts 1:8 -- "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses ...
It's not a command to be witnesses; it's not even presented as a choice to be witnesses. Rather, it's an if/then statement. If (when) the Holy Spirit comes on us, then we WILL receive power and be witnesses.
Of course, there remains the work of figuring out what it means to "remain" and what the process is to have the Holy Spirit come on us, but recognizing the if/then nature of these verses helps us to focus our efforts on the IF, knowing that the THEN will take care of itself.
This week's scripture passage from the first chapter of 1 John has several if/then statements. My favorite is the beginning of verse 7:
"If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another..."
We could paraphrase John here as saying: Are you looking for friends? Would you like to enjoy true fellowship with other believers? Here's the secret: Walk in the light as God is in the light.
But what does it mean to walk in the light? That becomes our question. There's much room for exploration here. One aspect of light is that it reveals things that would be hidden by darkness. Perhaps one requirement for fellowship is the courage to let people see us as we are.
What do you think?
One of the most useful programming commands is the if/then statement. If A is true then do B (or go to C, or delete D). Everything depends on A being true. IF A is true, the THEN is automatically executed.
There are several if/then statements in the Bible. I like them. They speak to me.
John 15:7 -- "IF a man remains in me and I in him, [THEN] he will bear much fruit."
So if we want fruit, the key is to "remain" in Christ. The remaining is the action required to trigger the fruit-bearing, which is a natural byproduct. If we want fruit, we must focus, not on straining to push out some fruit blossoms, but on remaining in the vine.
Acts 1:8 -- "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses ...
It's not a command to be witnesses; it's not even presented as a choice to be witnesses. Rather, it's an if/then statement. If (when) the Holy Spirit comes on us, then we WILL receive power and be witnesses.
Of course, there remains the work of figuring out what it means to "remain" and what the process is to have the Holy Spirit come on us, but recognizing the if/then nature of these verses helps us to focus our efforts on the IF, knowing that the THEN will take care of itself.
This week's scripture passage from the first chapter of 1 John has several if/then statements. My favorite is the beginning of verse 7:
"If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another..."
We could paraphrase John here as saying: Are you looking for friends? Would you like to enjoy true fellowship with other believers? Here's the secret: Walk in the light as God is in the light.
But what does it mean to walk in the light? That becomes our question. There's much room for exploration here. One aspect of light is that it reveals things that would be hidden by darkness. Perhaps one requirement for fellowship is the courage to let people see us as we are.
What do you think?
Friday, February 20, 2009
1 Corinthians
We're finishing up a series of lessons from 1 Corinthians this Sunday. Where I am, we're actually a week behind and will skip the last lesson in order to stay with the curriculum calendar. The passage that slipped into a second week concerned disagreements within the Christian community as addressed in 1 Corinthians 6. I wasn't there for the first week's discussion which the clock cut short. The second week involved some "rubber meets the road" questions. Does the church really want to deal with business deals gone sour between members? How do we balance charity toward even our enemy with our responsibility to spare others the harm our enemy has done us? If we continue to distrust someone who has wronged us, does that mean we haven't forgiven them? It made for some interesting discussion.
That puts us in chapter 8 this week, dealing with meat that has been sacrificed to idols. I haven't seen any of that in the marketplace lately. It will be interesting to figure out what analogies we can draw with today's marketplace.
That puts us in chapter 8 this week, dealing with meat that has been sacrificed to idols. I haven't seen any of that in the marketplace lately. It will be interesting to figure out what analogies we can draw with today's marketplace.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Sheep and goats and postmodernity
After a break, we're back on the "regular curriculum" for a while. Tomorrow's topic is the parable of the sheep and the goats from Matthew 25. These are good lessons. For the most part I find them quite profitable. This week, however, amidst the good stuff, the preparer of the "methodology" took a couple of potshots at postmodernity.
The first comment is overt:
This makes me smile.
The King divides the sheep from the goats. How would sheep (or goats) who decline to label others as either sheep or goats feel about the King applying such labels in all His wisdom and perfect knowledge? Is this the question?
Why is it that those who attempt to discredit postmodernity consistently misrepresent it? As far as I know, postmodernity says nothing about the ultimate right of God to judge humanity. It is concerned with human relationships. I don't see any of the sheep or goats assisting with the sorting process here. But maybe I'm missing something.
The second reference is more subtle but still makes me smile.
Aha! Here we have the perfect response for the pesky doubters among us. Simply pull out Matthew 25:41 and give them absolute prove that, since eternal fire has been prepared for the devil and his angels, their existence cannot be questioned. After all, that's where the goats are going. But only goats, right? Not people. Let's see ... no people are mentioned in this passage, right? Right. Only sheep and goats.
What's that? You say the sheep and goats represent people? So is this passage not to be taken literally? Ah, but the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels is totally literal. Beyond doubt. And can be used to prove their existence to those who have doubts.
I'll keep this in mind, but I fear that the pesky doubters I know will not be so easily convinced.
Just a couple of points that amused me, but certainly not a criticism of the lesson as a whole. Now the question is: Can I resist sharing that amusement tomorrow morning?
The first comment is overt:
There is finality here in the idea of "judgment." That Jesus means to emphasize this as "final judgment" is evident by the immediate action of the King dividing the sheep from the goats.
* How would today's "politically correct" society handle such a distinction? (The politically correct, postmodern person would deem it unfair to judge another person's thoughts or actions.)
This makes me smile.
The King divides the sheep from the goats. How would sheep (or goats) who decline to label others as either sheep or goats feel about the King applying such labels in all His wisdom and perfect knowledge? Is this the question?
Why is it that those who attempt to discredit postmodernity consistently misrepresent it? As far as I know, postmodernity says nothing about the ultimate right of God to judge humanity. It is concerned with human relationships. I don't see any of the sheep or goats assisting with the sorting process here. But maybe I'm missing something.
The second reference is more subtle but still makes me smile.
Eternal fire is prepared for the devil and his angels. How would you respond to someone who says that the devil does not exist?
Aha! Here we have the perfect response for the pesky doubters among us. Simply pull out Matthew 25:41 and give them absolute prove that, since eternal fire has been prepared for the devil and his angels, their existence cannot be questioned. After all, that's where the goats are going. But only goats, right? Not people. Let's see ... no people are mentioned in this passage, right? Right. Only sheep and goats.
What's that? You say the sheep and goats represent people? So is this passage not to be taken literally? Ah, but the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels is totally literal. Beyond doubt. And can be used to prove their existence to those who have doubts.
I'll keep this in mind, but I fear that the pesky doubters I know will not be so easily convinced.
Just a couple of points that amused me, but certainly not a criticism of the lesson as a whole. Now the question is: Can I resist sharing that amusement tomorrow morning?
Monday, August 25, 2008
In all things ...
I have a "spiritual adventure" book by David Mains that talks about "God sightings" -- coincidences that seem to obviously reveal God at work in our lives. I don't use that phrase much but it certainly came to mind today.
Yesterday morning in Sunday School, we barely touched Romans 8:28. It was after the final buzzer when I brought it up and briefly mentioned a personal example of how God works for good in all things. My example was of how having an older member of my family go to prison for the last few years of his life was obviously a tragic thing, but how God has used that tragedy for good in multiple ways in my life.
That was Sunday. This morning, I was gathering up house clutter and sat down with a newspaper over a week old that had joined the clutter without being read. The headline announced that a classmate of my older daughter had been sentenced to 10 years in prison. This was a result of an accident over two years ago involving a truck, an Amish buggy, and a .24 blood-alcohol content which resulted in one death and multiple injuries. It's a sad, sad situation within the Mennonite-Amish community that packed out the courtroom for the sentencing hearing. The article indicated that there were few dry eyes in the courtroom. Tears ran down my own face as I read it.
A couple of hours later, I headed to the post office to mail out a textbook my younger daughter sold over the internet. As I chatted with the postal worker, someone came through the door behind me. I turned around to leave and there was the mother of the young man from the article. I live in a small town, but that's pretty coincidental. Our paths have crossed only two or three times since the accident. I know her because we did volunteer work together 18 years ago when our children were in grade school, but we haven't gone beyond exchanging greetings more than a dozen times since then. Yet, here she was in the post office just a couple of hours after I came across the latest news about her son.
Now, you may think me tactless, but there is absolutely no gentle way to bring up something like this and I didn't want to pretend I was unaware of this latest development, so I simply said, "Well, hi! I was just reading about you in the newspaper this morning!" She acknowledged that the family had become local "celebrities" against their druthers. I then asked some questions and mentioned my own family's experience with being on the wrong side of the law. We moved out onto the sidewalk in front of the post office and talked several minutes more. It was good to share someone else's burden. I know one of the things that helped me most during my own experience was finding people who weren't afraid to talk about it with me. There's nothing to kill a conversation like mentioning what happened at last week's prison visit. I hope and pray that offering a listening ear was a blessing to this mother like it was to me.
As we both went on our way, it occurred to me that tomorrow marks nine years since prisoner #963602 moved out of the prison walls and on to sentencing at the hands of a merciful God. I had been totally oblivious to that impending anniversary.
And yet ... "in all things God works for ... good" I can truly say that there was good along that path. How odd that I mentioned that personal history in Sunday School yesterday, that I picked up that particular piece of "old news" this morning, and that my brief visit to the post office placed me square in the path of this grieving mother almost exactly nine years after death brought my own "prison experience" to an end. It seems that I may have had a "God sighting."
Yesterday morning in Sunday School, we barely touched Romans 8:28. It was after the final buzzer when I brought it up and briefly mentioned a personal example of how God works for good in all things. My example was of how having an older member of my family go to prison for the last few years of his life was obviously a tragic thing, but how God has used that tragedy for good in multiple ways in my life.
That was Sunday. This morning, I was gathering up house clutter and sat down with a newspaper over a week old that had joined the clutter without being read. The headline announced that a classmate of my older daughter had been sentenced to 10 years in prison. This was a result of an accident over two years ago involving a truck, an Amish buggy, and a .24 blood-alcohol content which resulted in one death and multiple injuries. It's a sad, sad situation within the Mennonite-Amish community that packed out the courtroom for the sentencing hearing. The article indicated that there were few dry eyes in the courtroom. Tears ran down my own face as I read it.
A couple of hours later, I headed to the post office to mail out a textbook my younger daughter sold over the internet. As I chatted with the postal worker, someone came through the door behind me. I turned around to leave and there was the mother of the young man from the article. I live in a small town, but that's pretty coincidental. Our paths have crossed only two or three times since the accident. I know her because we did volunteer work together 18 years ago when our children were in grade school, but we haven't gone beyond exchanging greetings more than a dozen times since then. Yet, here she was in the post office just a couple of hours after I came across the latest news about her son.
Now, you may think me tactless, but there is absolutely no gentle way to bring up something like this and I didn't want to pretend I was unaware of this latest development, so I simply said, "Well, hi! I was just reading about you in the newspaper this morning!" She acknowledged that the family had become local "celebrities" against their druthers. I then asked some questions and mentioned my own family's experience with being on the wrong side of the law. We moved out onto the sidewalk in front of the post office and talked several minutes more. It was good to share someone else's burden. I know one of the things that helped me most during my own experience was finding people who weren't afraid to talk about it with me. There's nothing to kill a conversation like mentioning what happened at last week's prison visit. I hope and pray that offering a listening ear was a blessing to this mother like it was to me.
As we both went on our way, it occurred to me that tomorrow marks nine years since prisoner #963602 moved out of the prison walls and on to sentencing at the hands of a merciful God. I had been totally oblivious to that impending anniversary.
And yet ... "in all things God works for ... good" I can truly say that there was good along that path. How odd that I mentioned that personal history in Sunday School yesterday, that I picked up that particular piece of "old news" this morning, and that my brief visit to the post office placed me square in the path of this grieving mother almost exactly nine years after death brought my own "prison experience" to an end. It seems that I may have had a "God sighting."
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Romans
It has been a while since I have posted here. We have traveled with Abraham, Isaac, and Joseph. We have interviewed some of the most influential people in church history. I have studied and prepared lessons and hung out with some absolutely wonderful people. What I haven't done is write blog entries about the experience.
Now we're ready to study Romans. Long letter. Weighty material. Romans was a Bible quizzing book for me, the enduring result of which is to give me a mental outline of the book. We have six lessons from the core of the book: chapters 5 to 8. Chapter 5 starts off with wonderful news - peace with God! We're skipping that part and diving into the sin and death problem which is offset by the righteousness and life solution in Christ Jesus.
I could spend hours and hours reading commentaries on Romans. Even the lesson material has more commentary beyond the exposition than usual. I have a brand-new unopened commentary on Romans. I have an old, musty unopened commentary on Romans. How much time do I want to spend following others through Romans? How much stuff must fill my own mind before I try to lead a discussion on Romans? Is it a hindrance or help to have tons of information stuffed into my head before going into such a discussion?
Why do I always have more questions than answers?
Now we're ready to study Romans. Long letter. Weighty material. Romans was a Bible quizzing book for me, the enduring result of which is to give me a mental outline of the book. We have six lessons from the core of the book: chapters 5 to 8. Chapter 5 starts off with wonderful news - peace with God! We're skipping that part and diving into the sin and death problem which is offset by the righteousness and life solution in Christ Jesus.
I could spend hours and hours reading commentaries on Romans. Even the lesson material has more commentary beyond the exposition than usual. I have a brand-new unopened commentary on Romans. I have an old, musty unopened commentary on Romans. How much time do I want to spend following others through Romans? How much stuff must fill my own mind before I try to lead a discussion on Romans? Is it a hindrance or help to have tons of information stuffed into my head before going into such a discussion?
Why do I always have more questions than answers?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Mopping floors/washing feet
This week's WordAction lesson includes the passage from John 13 where Jesus washes his disciples' feet. I'm thinking about playing a snippet from the movie "Bruce Almighty" where "God" is mopping floors.
I might never have watched "Bruce Almighty" if not for Joan Ryan. I don't watch a lot of movies and this one wouldn't be likely to be among those few for several reasons.
However, I saw this article on the editorial page of my local newspaper back when the movie was still in the theaters and my interest was piqued.
Here is an excerpt, but I encourage you to read the entire column to get the full message:
When I left the movie theater, Morgan Freeman's God followed me home. I have an on-again, off-again relationship with God, mostly because the invisible thing doesn't work for me. Faith isn't my strength. I get stuck on needing proof, fully realizing that proof negates the need for faith (a twisty argument that eventually gives me a headache).
Morgan Freeman's God, however, is God as I want to imagine him. He is the parent we wanted and want to be. He speaks softly and not too much. He smiles with both amusement and affection. He is patient enough to let you make the mistakes you need to make. He never scolds. He knows everything about you -- even all your dark crabby thoughts about friends who are way thinner and less wrinkly than you are -- and still makes you feel as if He did his best work in putting all your weird little pieces together....
I almost forgot my favorite part about Morgan Freeman as God. He appears to Bruce in the guise of a janitor. He is wearing one of those jumpsuits. He has a mop and a bucket. He asks Bruce to mop with him. It is a vast empty floor, a big job for one mopper. Bruce declines in the beginning. But later, after his epiphany, Bruce picks up a mop, and he and God mop together, one narrow strip of floor at a time.
I am still captured by the image presented in that movie and how closely it fits with the God I know. I think it really does reflect the God of the Bible. I suspect that I would enjoy getting acquainted with the writer of the screenplay for that movie.
I might never have watched "Bruce Almighty" if not for Joan Ryan. I don't watch a lot of movies and this one wouldn't be likely to be among those few for several reasons.
However, I saw this article on the editorial page of my local newspaper back when the movie was still in the theaters and my interest was piqued.
Here is an excerpt, but I encourage you to read the entire column to get the full message:
When I left the movie theater, Morgan Freeman's God followed me home. I have an on-again, off-again relationship with God, mostly because the invisible thing doesn't work for me. Faith isn't my strength. I get stuck on needing proof, fully realizing that proof negates the need for faith (a twisty argument that eventually gives me a headache).
Morgan Freeman's God, however, is God as I want to imagine him. He is the parent we wanted and want to be. He speaks softly and not too much. He smiles with both amusement and affection. He is patient enough to let you make the mistakes you need to make. He never scolds. He knows everything about you -- even all your dark crabby thoughts about friends who are way thinner and less wrinkly than you are -- and still makes you feel as if He did his best work in putting all your weird little pieces together....
I almost forgot my favorite part about Morgan Freeman as God. He appears to Bruce in the guise of a janitor. He is wearing one of those jumpsuits. He has a mop and a bucket. He asks Bruce to mop with him. It is a vast empty floor, a big job for one mopper. Bruce declines in the beginning. But later, after his epiphany, Bruce picks up a mop, and he and God mop together, one narrow strip of floor at a time.
I am still captured by the image presented in that movie and how closely it fits with the God I know. I think it really does reflect the God of the Bible. I suspect that I would enjoy getting acquainted with the writer of the screenplay for that movie.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Why evangelize?
From the WordAction lesson for March 2:
Absolve. Obligation. Must. These are words of duty generally directed toward those with a resistance to doing what they need to do. While I don't disagree with what the author is saying, I wouldn't bring duty into the discussion.
"But what of those who have never heard the gospel message?" Can they find their way to God? Yes, according to Romans 1:19-20. Nature gives enough witness to the existence of God and His will for mankind for people to choose the path of righteousness. Those who fail to choose that path are without excuse.
Still, why would we leave someone groping about in the dark when we have a limitless supply of light? It's not that we have a duty to spend our days wearily passing out flashlights and batteries to the endless line of people living in the dark. We have light! We have the secret of abundant life!
Do I have a duty to share my faith with people who are interested in spiritual things but haven't heard the good news of how Jesus Christ has opened up a wonderful path into a relationship with God? I suppose I do, but I don't see it in those terms.
It is difficult to share physical resources as a rich Christian in a hungry world. How do I share what I have while encouraging people to develop independence and responsibility. Where do I start in the face of such overwhelming need and limited resources to meet that need? How do I make sure my gift reaches needy people? It's easier to simply turn my face away from people who need monetary or physical help. Perhaps there is a requirement for language of duty in this area.
However, in terms of faith, why would I not want to share what I have? It's not as though there's a limited amount of light. There's no reason to hoard it. There are people all over the world -- in my immediate world, in places far and near -- who are hungry to hear words of hope. I have those words. They burst out of me when I detect that I'm talking to a receptive soul. I want to enable others to go where I cannot in order to share that message of hope.
Are we obligated to offer light and hope to those who are trying to find their way to God in the dark? Yes. Just as we are obligated to tell people planning a vacation about the marvelous time we had on our last trip to their destination. Or in the same way that we are obligated to share our most delicious dining experiences with someone looking for a good restaurant.
It seems a bit pointless to talk about duty and obligation to share something so wonderful and amazing that we want the entire world to hear about it.
But what of those who have never heard the gospel message? Though God in His wisdom, justice, and love will judge humanity according to the light they have received, that fact does not absolve us of our obligation to take the gospel message to the whole world. Not only is eternity involved, but the quality of life on earth as well. The pagans are the "whoevers" who must be given the opportunity to know the truth and accept salvation.
Absolve. Obligation. Must. These are words of duty generally directed toward those with a resistance to doing what they need to do. While I don't disagree with what the author is saying, I wouldn't bring duty into the discussion.
"But what of those who have never heard the gospel message?" Can they find their way to God? Yes, according to Romans 1:19-20. Nature gives enough witness to the existence of God and His will for mankind for people to choose the path of righteousness. Those who fail to choose that path are without excuse.
Still, why would we leave someone groping about in the dark when we have a limitless supply of light? It's not that we have a duty to spend our days wearily passing out flashlights and batteries to the endless line of people living in the dark. We have light! We have the secret of abundant life!
Do I have a duty to share my faith with people who are interested in spiritual things but haven't heard the good news of how Jesus Christ has opened up a wonderful path into a relationship with God? I suppose I do, but I don't see it in those terms.
It is difficult to share physical resources as a rich Christian in a hungry world. How do I share what I have while encouraging people to develop independence and responsibility. Where do I start in the face of such overwhelming need and limited resources to meet that need? How do I make sure my gift reaches needy people? It's easier to simply turn my face away from people who need monetary or physical help. Perhaps there is a requirement for language of duty in this area.
However, in terms of faith, why would I not want to share what I have? It's not as though there's a limited amount of light. There's no reason to hoard it. There are people all over the world -- in my immediate world, in places far and near -- who are hungry to hear words of hope. I have those words. They burst out of me when I detect that I'm talking to a receptive soul. I want to enable others to go where I cannot in order to share that message of hope.
Are we obligated to offer light and hope to those who are trying to find their way to God in the dark? Yes. Just as we are obligated to tell people planning a vacation about the marvelous time we had on our last trip to their destination. Or in the same way that we are obligated to share our most delicious dining experiences with someone looking for a good restaurant.
It seems a bit pointless to talk about duty and obligation to share something so wonderful and amazing that we want the entire world to hear about it.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Second-Mile living - 12/30/07
I'm back. For now, at least.
This week's lesson includes the following comment from Illustrated Bible Life by Jirair Tashjian:
"This is not the same as being a doormat. Nor is it that enemies are made into friends by 'killing them with kindness.' It is, rather, peaceful resistance. It puts enemies into the awkward situation of having to face kindness when retaliation was expected."
I like the last line. And I've heard the first line all of my life. However, I have yet to accept it as an obvious truth. And I'm not moving that direction.
In her book Out of the Saltshaker, Rebecca Manley Pippert tells the story of how she challenged an agnostic student to read the Gospels and try obedience to see what would happen. The student read Matthew 5:38-42 and promised the God whose existence she doubted that, given the opportunity, she would try it. It didn't take long for the opportunity to present itself. Paying the cost to obey brought a complete change to her life.
As I contemplated that story, I realized that I and most everyone I know had accepted the "we can't be doormats" philosophy without even trying it to see what would happen. If an agnostic college student could try out obedience, why couldn't I? So I signed on to do my very best to obey the instructions from the Sermon on the Mount. But only for fifty years. Then I would evaluate the results and see if I wanted to continue the experiment.
I'm still not sure how second-mile living really works out in real life. I seem incapable of sustaining my position as a doormat. It's rare when I can cheerfully offer the second mile on top of the first one that has been demanded of me. Or offer up the other cheek when the first one is still stinging. However, what little data I have managed to collect indicates that non-resistance is actually far more rewarding than defending one's rights.
People don't walk over me any more when I'm lying still than when I'm squealing in protest. Nor do they notice me any less. Rather, passive living seems attractive to those who are observing how I respond to an abuser. And there's the bonus of feeling completely triumphant when I manage to lie still and allow someone to walk over me without protest. It's not weakness. It's strength under control. It's a choice to keep silent in the face of insult and abuse. When I can manage to pull it off, there's no lack of personal affirmation in it.
Fortunately, I have a few years left to continue my experiment and see if I can get any better at it. I'm not bleeding yet.
This week's lesson includes the following comment from Illustrated Bible Life by Jirair Tashjian:
"This is not the same as being a doormat. Nor is it that enemies are made into friends by 'killing them with kindness.' It is, rather, peaceful resistance. It puts enemies into the awkward situation of having to face kindness when retaliation was expected."
I like the last line. And I've heard the first line all of my life. However, I have yet to accept it as an obvious truth. And I'm not moving that direction.
In her book Out of the Saltshaker, Rebecca Manley Pippert tells the story of how she challenged an agnostic student to read the Gospels and try obedience to see what would happen. The student read Matthew 5:38-42 and promised the God whose existence she doubted that, given the opportunity, she would try it. It didn't take long for the opportunity to present itself. Paying the cost to obey brought a complete change to her life.
As I contemplated that story, I realized that I and most everyone I know had accepted the "we can't be doormats" philosophy without even trying it to see what would happen. If an agnostic college student could try out obedience, why couldn't I? So I signed on to do my very best to obey the instructions from the Sermon on the Mount. But only for fifty years. Then I would evaluate the results and see if I wanted to continue the experiment.
I'm still not sure how second-mile living really works out in real life. I seem incapable of sustaining my position as a doormat. It's rare when I can cheerfully offer the second mile on top of the first one that has been demanded of me. Or offer up the other cheek when the first one is still stinging. However, what little data I have managed to collect indicates that non-resistance is actually far more rewarding than defending one's rights.
People don't walk over me any more when I'm lying still than when I'm squealing in protest. Nor do they notice me any less. Rather, passive living seems attractive to those who are observing how I respond to an abuser. And there's the bonus of feeling completely triumphant when I manage to lie still and allow someone to walk over me without protest. It's not weakness. It's strength under control. It's a choice to keep silent in the face of insult and abuse. When I can manage to pull it off, there's no lack of personal affirmation in it.
Fortunately, I have a few years left to continue my experiment and see if I can get any better at it. I'm not bleeding yet.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Sunday School issues
OK, there are still one or two people stopping by here, so I guess it's time for an update. Discussing "issues" in Sunday School has been an interesting exercise. I never thought I would address "current event" topics by choice. For the most part, I don't bother to choose a side on controversial issues. After all, does it really matter what I think? There are enough decisions to be made in areas where I need to choose a course of action that I don't have the mental energy to decide whether we should have troups in Iraq and who should have tried Suddam Hussein and whether Terri Schiavo should have been allowed to die.
In a way, my lack of mental and emotional investment in the subjects we've been discussing has made it easier. If people have strong opinions, on capital punishment for example, either pro or con, that's fine with me. They can go ahead and express their opinion. I'll probably be in at least partial agreement with any position. But for the most part, we simply look at both sides of the issue in light of scripture. After all, if there were a simple Bible-based answer to the issues facing our world, they wouldn't be issues. We've yet to find an issue where all Bible-believing Christians line up on the same side.
Our next topic is bioethics -- cloning, gene therapy, genetic engineering. It's another area where I've never seen any need to choose a position. Hopefully, someone else will have something to contribute to the discussion. Anyone who reads this is welcome to comment.
In a way, my lack of mental and emotional investment in the subjects we've been discussing has made it easier. If people have strong opinions, on capital punishment for example, either pro or con, that's fine with me. They can go ahead and express their opinion. I'll probably be in at least partial agreement with any position. But for the most part, we simply look at both sides of the issue in light of scripture. After all, if there were a simple Bible-based answer to the issues facing our world, they wouldn't be issues. We've yet to find an issue where all Bible-believing Christians line up on the same side.
Our next topic is bioethics -- cloning, gene therapy, genetic engineering. It's another area where I've never seen any need to choose a position. Hopefully, someone else will have something to contribute to the discussion. Anyone who reads this is welcome to comment.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
God and Country
OK, so no one responded to my short and pithy questions last week. Getting a dialog going here is even harder than on Sunday mornings at Sunday School. I guess you are all just peeping in to see what's going on.
So here's what is going on this week: God and country. What does it mean to be an American Christian? What does it mean to be a Christian American? What is our allegiance as Christians to the United States of America? How does Christianity affect our view of those outside our borders? Does the Bible give us any answers to these questions?
I'd tell you the answers, but I need to wait until after tomorrow (Sunday) morning to see if we figure out what they are.
So here's what is going on this week: God and country. What does it mean to be an American Christian? What does it mean to be a Christian American? What is our allegiance as Christians to the United States of America? How does Christianity affect our view of those outside our borders? Does the Bible give us any answers to these questions?
I'd tell you the answers, but I need to wait until after tomorrow (Sunday) morning to see if we figure out what they are.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Legislating morality
So can the government force morality on the citizens it governs by passing laws that make immorality illegal and subject to fines and punishments? That's what we'll be discussing this week. Anyone care to comment? Anyone anywhere? Hellooooooo? Is anyone out there? Anyone at all?
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Where do we go from here?
Our last week in 1 Thessalonians. It has been a challenging unit.
Last Sunday morning we started with the question: "If someone asks you ... What does the Bible say about ___________? ... how do they fill in the blank?" The rhetorical answer was "the end of the world" in order to transition into the 2nd coming aspect of the lesson from 1 Thessolonians 4-5. The actual responses, however, resulted in a decision to take a look at some of the questions people ask us about the Bible and what the Bible really says about those issues. So we won't be using the WordAction curriculum for the winter quarter.
I'm starting to dig out books on issues from the Dialog series. It's interesting that the book from the church library with the closest match to the issues brought up last week is the oldest. It's not actually from the Dialog Series or even the Nazarene Publishing House. I suspect it predates the Dialog Series. It's from the "Contemporary Discussion Series" from Baker Book House and the copyright date is 1969. The subjects addressed include: gambling, social responsibility, abortion, the threat of technology, modesty in dress, and church music.
For today, we're still in 1 Thessalonians, finishing out the end of chapter 5. Verse 23 is a golden text for Nazarenes that has been used as a launching pad for untold promises about "sanctification". The rest of my group hasn't been subjected to nearly so much in that area as I have and I try to be careful to not spend my time reacting to offenses that they haven't encountered. Fortunately, it's not the only verse in this morning's scripture focus.
Last Sunday morning we started with the question: "If someone asks you ... What does the Bible say about ___________? ... how do they fill in the blank?" The rhetorical answer was "the end of the world" in order to transition into the 2nd coming aspect of the lesson from 1 Thessolonians 4-5. The actual responses, however, resulted in a decision to take a look at some of the questions people ask us about the Bible and what the Bible really says about those issues. So we won't be using the WordAction curriculum for the winter quarter.
I'm starting to dig out books on issues from the Dialog series. It's interesting that the book from the church library with the closest match to the issues brought up last week is the oldest. It's not actually from the Dialog Series or even the Nazarene Publishing House. I suspect it predates the Dialog Series. It's from the "Contemporary Discussion Series" from Baker Book House and the copyright date is 1969. The subjects addressed include: gambling, social responsibility, abortion, the threat of technology, modesty in dress, and church music.
For today, we're still in 1 Thessalonians, finishing out the end of chapter 5. Verse 23 is a golden text for Nazarenes that has been used as a launching pad for untold promises about "sanctification". The rest of my group hasn't been subjected to nearly so much in that area as I have and I try to be careful to not spend my time reacting to offenses that they haven't encountered. Fortunately, it's not the only verse in this morning's scripture focus.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Holiness and sex
In 1 Thessalonians 4:3 Paul explains that sanctification is the will of God. The first aspect of sanctification he mentions is avoiding sexual immorality.
There is a universal innate ethic in humanity that tells us that some things are right and others are wrong. I assume that studies have been done to determine what activities jar the sensitive conscience in every culture. Taking what belongs to and is treasured by another might be an example of a universal ‘wrong’. I don’t know. I haven’t reviewed such studies.
This week’s lesson indicates that in the culture of the Thessalonians, sexual indulgence was considered ‘normal’, acceptable, even sacred. Paul has explained to the believers there that this is not the case, that doing what is right in the sight of God includes being sexually pure. Now he’s reminding them of this teaching.
I wonder: Is sexual morality part of our built-in moral system or is it defined by culture? Were the pagans in Thessalonica aware at some level that their sexual indulgence was wrong? Or did they consider it simply satisfying a natural physical hunger with no more moral significance than eating an apple?
Unlike swans, humans do not have a natural fidelity to a single, lifetime mate. Rather, there is an inclination to be promiscuous, to consider every attractive member of the opposite sex (or even the same sex) to have potential as a sexual partner, even after having committed oneself to marriage. How universal is the moral call to do right by denying that natural inclination? Was Paul bringing the Thessalonian Christians back to a known but suppressed moral standard or was he introducing a completely foreign moral code with no natural support even by the sensitized conscience?
Perhaps we could find the answer in sociology. Or maybe sexual morality is actually an extension of love and needs no separate code to define it. Love directs us to value others and seek their highest welfare. Sexual indulgence uses others without valuing them. Someone with two partners sets them in competition with each other, both vying for the undivided attention of the beloved. Even if those partners don’t know about each other, the person whose bed they share is depriving his or her lovers of pure (unadulterated) love. It seems that true love for others would naturally and necessarily lead to sexual purity, to imposing self-control on natural urges out of concern for the happiness and well-being of others, both one's marriage partner (present or future) and the attractive and available person. It seems that Paul was connecting dots for the new believers that would have naturally come together for them over time.
God is holy; God is love. Being holy, set apart, sanctified, means loving God and loving others. This leads inevitably to sexual purity, controlling and channeling our urges to procreate into committed and exclusive relationships.
What do you think?
There is a universal innate ethic in humanity that tells us that some things are right and others are wrong. I assume that studies have been done to determine what activities jar the sensitive conscience in every culture. Taking what belongs to and is treasured by another might be an example of a universal ‘wrong’. I don’t know. I haven’t reviewed such studies.
This week’s lesson indicates that in the culture of the Thessalonians, sexual indulgence was considered ‘normal’, acceptable, even sacred. Paul has explained to the believers there that this is not the case, that doing what is right in the sight of God includes being sexually pure. Now he’s reminding them of this teaching.
I wonder: Is sexual morality part of our built-in moral system or is it defined by culture? Were the pagans in Thessalonica aware at some level that their sexual indulgence was wrong? Or did they consider it simply satisfying a natural physical hunger with no more moral significance than eating an apple?
Unlike swans, humans do not have a natural fidelity to a single, lifetime mate. Rather, there is an inclination to be promiscuous, to consider every attractive member of the opposite sex (or even the same sex) to have potential as a sexual partner, even after having committed oneself to marriage. How universal is the moral call to do right by denying that natural inclination? Was Paul bringing the Thessalonian Christians back to a known but suppressed moral standard or was he introducing a completely foreign moral code with no natural support even by the sensitized conscience?
Perhaps we could find the answer in sociology. Or maybe sexual morality is actually an extension of love and needs no separate code to define it. Love directs us to value others and seek their highest welfare. Sexual indulgence uses others without valuing them. Someone with two partners sets them in competition with each other, both vying for the undivided attention of the beloved. Even if those partners don’t know about each other, the person whose bed they share is depriving his or her lovers of pure (unadulterated) love. It seems that true love for others would naturally and necessarily lead to sexual purity, to imposing self-control on natural urges out of concern for the happiness and well-being of others, both one's marriage partner (present or future) and the attractive and available person. It seems that Paul was connecting dots for the new believers that would have naturally come together for them over time.
God is holy; God is love. Being holy, set apart, sanctified, means loving God and loving others. This leads inevitably to sexual purity, controlling and channeling our urges to procreate into committed and exclusive relationships.
What do you think?
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