The Ways of God

October 18, 2010

Herod does violence to the church. He kills James, the Apostle. He imprisons Peter desiring to execute him. Reading it again (Acts 12:1-19) reminds me of my questions:

  • Why, Lord, did you allow Herod Agrippa I to do violence to some of the church? Why those particular people and not others? 12:1
  • Why did you allow James, the Apostle, to be killed by Herod?12:2
  • Why did you allow Peter to be arrested? 12:3
  • Why did you wait to rescue Peter until the night before he was to be executed? Why not sooner, and why didn’t you rescue James? 12:6
  • Why, Lord, did you allow the sentries to be executed by Herod for their failure to keep an angel from rescuing Peter? (This one reminds me that even when God intervenes, bad things can follow from evil people.) 12:19

My questions do not arise from doubt. I understand the broad answers to the questions of evil and suffering. Evil occurs because in order for God to create beings with free will, sin has to be a possible choice. God didn’t immediately bring an end to sin and evil in order to mount a rescue – a plan of redemption. Sin’s entrance into the world brought about a curse that includes hardship and suffering as possibilities. Those are the broad brush strokes of an answer.

Yet, I can relate to Job asking, “Why me?” It seems that the answer Job received is the basic answer we receive for many of our whys. Knowledge of such things is beyond our pay grade. We don’t have the wisdom and power to run the universe. (See Job 38-41.)

But my whys go beyond the text of Acts 12. Rereading Acts 12 just reminds me of these unanswered questions. I ask why for cases in the lives of people I know and my own life. I’ve reached some conclusions. Good people suffer. Faith tested grows stronger. I believe God loves us enough to hear our whys and our faithful laments. Even when I don’t totally understand, I am convinced of God’s power and love and await the world to come when God will wipe away all tears.

The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law. (Deuteronomy 29:29, ESV)

I don’t have an answer for all my whys, but I trust God even when I don’t completely understand all the ways of God.


Wrapped In Hope

October 14, 2010

Peter wrote to Christians in Asia Minor who were experiencing trials. They were like “exiles” (1:1) in their own home towns. They felt the tension of being in the world but not of the world. Interestingly enough, Peter’s first discussion of trials in this letter is wrapped in a message about hope.

Hope deals with what is yet unseen. It is more than just wishful thinking as we will see, but it still deals with what has not yet arrived on the scene. (See 1 Peter 1:8) We love Jesus even though we do yet see him. We rejoice even though the salvation of our souls has not yet completely arrived. Hope aids us on our journey into the unknown. Without hope, we might be overwhelmed with discouragement and be defeated by the Evil One.

Although hope leads us into the unseen, hope is grounded in something very sure. The basis of hope is the resurrection of Jesus Christ. (See 1 Peter 1:3) I trust in the historicity of that event — Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection — because of the eyewitness testimony. I am convinced by the great transformation of their lives. Even the persecutor of the church, Saul of Tarsus, was converted. Old Testament prophecies pointed to this event. Historical sources outside the New Testament confirm the basic storyline of the narrative. The message of Jesus provides the basis of my hope.

Hope also has security. What we hope for is guarded in heaven. It is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading. (See 1 Peter 1:4) I have witnessed on TV the destruction of the tallest buildings in our land. Vandals have defaced important places, and I’ve seen the ravages of time bring fading glory to special places in my life. But my inheritance will experience none of those things. It is guarded by God.

But this security has a second part. Christians are also guarded by God through faith. (See 1 Peter 1:5) The fact that we are guarded through faith means that the protection continues only as long as we continue in faith. Yes, I can fall away from God, but that doesn’t minimize the protection. I know that I won’t be tempted beyond what I can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13). I believe God will provide the strength for me to face all situations (Philippians 4:13). And I know that no one can take my inheritance from me (Romans 8:37-39).

Trials are real and painful (1 Peter 1:6-7). Yet they are not the last word. Peter’s message about trials is wrapped in hope.


What Spills Out

October 12, 2010

A man had a short temper. He seemed nice enough until he lost his temper, and then, he could inflict emotional pain with his words. The outbursts would come with the frustrations and accidents of life, and those kinds of moments always come. In his book, After You Believe, N.T. Wright tells this story.

A famous preacher had a friend who was well known for his short temper. One day, at a party, he asked this friend to help him serve some drinks. The preacher himself poured the drinks, deliberately filling several glasses a bit too full. He then passed the tray to his friend. As they walked into the room to distribute the drinks, he accidentally-on-purpose bumped into the friend, causing the tray to jiggle and some of the drinks to flow over the brim and spill. “There you are, you see,” said the preacher. “When you’re jolted, what spills out is whatever is filling you.”

When you are jolted, what spills out reveals your character. In a discussion about unclean foods, Jesus makes the same point.

And he said, “What comes out of a person is what defiles him. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:20–23, ESV)

That is why Jesus talks about trees and their fruit. (Matthew 7:15-20, 12:33-37). A good tree produces good fruit, and a bad tree produces bad fruit. Somehow, I don’t think Jesus is giving a lesson on tending orchards. He instructs us to “make the tree good.” Jesus’ solution for behavior (“fruit” in Jesus’ parable) is to transform us on the inside (“make the tree good”). When our character is transformed to be more Christ-like, we don’t have to worry much about the actions that spring from such character. After all, good trees (people) produce good fruit (behavior).

This really is God’s plan. When Jeremiah prophesies of the new covenant, it is about “the law written on hearts” (Jeremiah 31:33). When Paul writes of the big picture of what it is all about, he says, “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers” (Romans 8:29, ESV, my emphasis). We are to be like Jesus.

Character transformation is a lifelong process. We must cooperate with God to allow Him to change us on the inside. It takes God’s word. It takes prayer. It takes effort. It takes time. When you are jolted, what spills out?


The Path to Understanding

October 7, 2010

A few years ago, I found the Bible I had as a teen-ager. I was interested in the notes that I had placed in it. Bible knowledge is not gained in a day. It takes a lifetime of study. Matters that today I probably wouldn’t need any help finding were concepts that back then I understood very imperfectly. For example in a note, I misspelled the word “Pentateuch”—a word which means 5 scrolls and is normally applied to the first five books of the Old Testament. I don’t believe that 1 Timothy has 15 chapters the last time I looked, but I have a written note for 1 Timothy 15.

Understanding takes time and repetition. I compare it to a net. The first time through a book of the Bible the mesh on the net is extremely course. Many things get by us. We struggle to understand. But as we continue to read, the mesh gets finer, and we notice and understand more and more. Alexander Campbell noted the same thing in his publication called the Christian Baptist. After observing that God revealed Himself in understandable language and that our approach to the Bible should be the same as for understanding any other book. He wrote:

You will then take, say, a New Testament, and sit down with a pencil or pen in your hand. Begin with Matthew’s gospel; read the whole of it at one reading, or two; mark on the margin every sentence you think you do not understand. Turn back again; read it a second time, in less portions at once than in the first reading; cancel such marks as you have made which noted passages, that, on the first reading appeared to you dark or difficult to understand, but on the second reading opened to your view. Then read Mark, Luke, and John, in the same manner, as they all treat upon the same subject. After having read each evangelist in this way, read them all in succession a third time. At this time you will no doubt be able to cancel many of your marks.

[Then] read Acts of the Apostles, which is the key to all the Epistles; then the Epistles in a similar manner; always before reading an epistle, read every thing said about the people addressed in the epistle, which you find in the Acts of the Apostles. This is the course which we would take to understand any book. You will no doubt see, from what you read, the necessity of accompanying all your readings with supplications to the Father of Lights….In pursuing this plan, we have no doubt, in getting even three times through the New Testament, that you will understand much more of the christian religion than a learned divine would teach you in seven years.
Christian Baptist 1 (December 1, 1823)

Be patient with yourself. Learning takes time. Be assured that God has written an understandable message. What you first do not understand will become clearer in time. Read, pray, think. The path to understanding is taken one step at a time.


The Hound of Heaven

October 5, 2010

British poet, Francis Thompson, pictures God as the great pursuer in “The Hound of Heaven.” The title is striking. God relentlessly pursues us with a loving plan to save. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:1, 14). The one from heaven humbled himself and took on the form of a servant, “becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8, ESV). Yet, the poem pictures the flight of many.

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.

But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat – and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet –
“All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.”

But why do we flee our Creator? The poem confesses, “Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.” The desires of the world blind us to our true need, and so we run. Or maybe with our busy, noisy world we drown out the call to fill the God-sized hole in our lives.

The poem ends with God overshadowing the one who flees pleading:

“Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.”

[“Drave” is archaic past tense for “drive” – the idea is driving away God from our life drives away love.]

God the seeker, the hound of heaven, is deep down what we seek. We may fill our life with other things…even good things. We may keep so busy that spiritual things are crowded out. Enough noise and busyness can silence spiritual hunger and thirst, but still leave it unsatiated and unquenched. God seeks us; we should seek Him.

“You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Augustine, Confessions I. i.


Chosen Exiles

October 3, 2010

Peter addresses the recipients of his first letter as “chosen exiles.” A tension exists with those two words. Chosen represents their status with God. Exiles depicts their relationship to the world. The recipients of the letter seem to be predominantly Gentiles Christians (1:14, 1:18). Now that they are Christians they are out of step with their pagan neighbors, who were “surprised when you do not run with them in the same flood of loose living” (4:4). These Christians found themselves maligned. They felt the tension of being in the world but not of the world.

Is this a correct understanding of Peter’s use of the word “exile”? Peter will come back to this word. Notice the context. It is about right living in a pagan world.

“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. ” (1 Peter 2:11–12, ESV)

One of my favorite quotes from second century Christians is found in an anonymous letter, The Epistle to Diognetus. This author seems very familiar with this tension and expresses it eloquently.

For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity by country, language, or custom. For nowhere do they live in cities of their own, nor do they speak some unusual dialect, nor do they practice an eccentric life-style. This teaching of theirs has not been discovered by the thought and reflection of ingenious men, nor do they promote any human doctrine, as some do. But while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each one’s lot was cast, and follow the local customs in dress and food and other aspects of life, at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and admittedly unusual character of their own citizenship. They live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign country is their fatherland, and every fatherland is foreign. They marry like everyone else, and have children, but they do not expose their offspring. They share their food but not their wives. They are “in the flesh,” but they do not live “according to the flesh.” They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws; indeed in their private lives they transcend the laws. They love everyone, and by everyone they are persecuted.*

Don’t be surprised that sometimes you feel like an exile? It comes with the territory of being in the world but not of it, and being chosen is worth it all. The chosen have Christ, the chosen have God, and the chosen have hope.

*The Epistle of Diognetus 5:1-11 in M.W. Holmes, translator, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, p. 541.


Sharing Our Very Selves

September 30, 2010

This past week has been a time of saying good-bye as a family moves away. I must admit that saying good-bye is never easy to do. It is painful. You become close to someone, and then separation comes. It may be a move, and even worse, it may be death. So what are we supposed to do?

Paul models an answer for us:

But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us. 1 Thessalonians 2:7–8 (ESV)

Note the intimate language that Paul uses to describe their relationship. His gentleness among them was like a nursing mother caring for her own children. He has great affection for them. They were “very dear” to Paul. Paul speaks of sharing “our own selves” as well as the gospel. All of this speaks of a close relationship. Yet, Paul went into Thessalonica as an itinerant preacher. A departure would come, and in the case of Thessalonica, it came sooner than Paul wanted. After an uproar in the city and a security deposit to the officials, Paul is sent away by night. We read of his eagerness to return, and his urgency to receive word about them. Yet I don’t think Paul ever backed off from sharing his own self with people. He invested in people even when there were good-byes to come.

I think there are two Christian answers to this pain of parting. These answers explain why we should invest ourselves in others despite the pain departures bring. The first is the providence of God. In what some may consider “the boring bits” of Paul’s letters, we find many, many names of people important to Paul. Paul had Christian friends around the Roman world. If he departed from some or they departed from him, God had a wonderful way of bringing new people into his life.

New people in our lives doesn’t mean that people are interchangeable parts. If we think about particular persons who are absent, we will miss them. Each person plays a unique role in our lives, but our lives are enriched by each person with whom we share our very selves.

The second answer is the resurrection. There are no lasting good-byes among Christians. Heaven will be the great reunion. We certainly morn our losses, but we do so in hope.

Despite the pain of departures, I suspect that sharing of our own selves will be part of the treasure we find awaiting us in heaven.


The Personal Answer

May 26, 2010

Have you ever been with a friend just talking? Maybe it is conversation over a cup of coffee. You discuss all the world’s problems. You and your friend exchange theories. It is lively and entertaining conversation, and in the end you part ways, and maybe one of you says, “We’ve solved all the world’s problems.” Such conversations are long on talk and short on deeds.

Jesus had set his face towards Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). Luke clearly lets us know the journey is “for him to be taken up.” Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension are ahead even if the disciples failed to grasp it. Jesus predicts, but they dimly understand.

In the midst of this journey, someone says to Jesus, “Lord, will those who are saved be few” (Luke 13:23)? I can imagine in a tedious, walking journey that conversation on an interesting topic would be welcome. Who better to engage in conversation or teaching than Jesus? And it is such a wonderful theoretical question. It could have led to lively conversation. It could have been bandied about, and in the end, someone could say, “We’ve solved all the world’s problems.”

Jesus’ answer is direct: “Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (Luke 13:24, ESV). Jesus immediately brings the question down to the level of personal responsibility and not just abstract speculation.

Jesus uses an uncomfortable word – strive. The word means to do something with great intensity and effort. It was a word used of athletic contests as well as fights with weapons. Someone might ask, “If I can’t merit salvation, what’s all this talk about ‘striving’?”  We must strive to understand the message. We must strive to discern truth from error in a world with multiple messages. We must strive to respond to the message. “Striving” in this sense is certainly necessary, but it is not meritorious. It is the response to what God has given and done for us.

Jesus gives us another uncomfortable truth. We must seek a narrow door. Our culture wants many paths all leading to a good place. All spiritual truths are to be regarded as equally valid. Jesus will have none of this. There is an absolute truth, and a necessary way.

Jesus also lets us know that the clock is ticking: “When once the master of the house has risen and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, ‘Lord, open to us,’ then he will answer you, ‘I do not know where you come from’” (Luke 13:25, ESV). There is a deadline. The deadline means our opportunity to enter is limited.

I enjoy theoretical conversations. They don’t make much in the way of demands. Jesus reminds us that some issues cannot remain theoretical. We must give a personal answer.


The Lord’s Day

April 8, 2010

Why do Christians assemble for worship every Sunday, the first day of the week? The bottom line answer is that Jesus arose on Sunday morning  (Matthew 28:1-10; Mark 16:1-8; Luke 24:1, 13, 21, 46; John 20:1-19). Jesus’ resurrection makes the first day of the week, special, and that connection was so important that Christians began to call Sunday “the Lord’s Day” (Revelation 1:10).

The church likely began on a Sunday. The outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the first gospel sermon, and the baptism of 3000 occurred on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:1). Pentecost (also known as the Feast of Weeks and the Feast of Harvest) was on the 50th day after the offering of the barley sheaf at the Feast of Unleavened Bread (Leviticus 23:15-21). The method used by the Sadducees for calculating the day of Pentecost always placed it on a Sunday.

The Lord’s Day assembly is not a matter of a command as was the Sabbath in the Ten Commandments. But we derive our authority not just from commands, but also from principles and apostolic precedents. Although the New Testament does command the assembly (Hebrews 10:25), the indication of the day of the week is given by example.

On the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break bread, Paul talked with them, intending to depart on the next day, and he prolonged his speech until midnight. (Acts 20:7, ESV)

On the first day of every week, each of you is to put something aside and store it up, as he may prosper, so that there will be no collecting when I come. (1 Corinthians 16:2, ESV)

When we look at the writings of Christians in the second century, the worship assembly on every first day of week is clearly indicated. Justin Martyr illustrates this, “But Sunday is the day on which we all hold our common assembly, because it is the first day on which God, having wrought a change in the darkness and matter, made the world; and Jesus Christ our Saviour on the same day rose from the dead” (Apology, 67).  Although the second century authors are not our authority, they help confirm the fact that we have rightly understood the apostolic example.

Jesus died for my sins, and death could not hold him captive. He is risen. I know of no greater thoughts. It is in our weekly assembly that we remember His death and proclaim His death for our sins until He comes again.


The Big Hint

March 28, 2010

Abraham was to become a great nation (Genesis 12:1-3), and God had promised that it was through Isaac that Abraham’s offspring would be named (Genesis 21:12). Abraham had waited twenty-five years for his promised son. That is what made the command to sacrifice Isaac such a great test (Genesis 22:1-19).

The story of the sacrifice of Isaac is disturbing. Human sacrifice was forbidden to Israel (Deuteronomy 12:31), and as readers we are relieved when Abraham’s hand is stayed by the voice of the angel. Yet as I read this Old Testament narrative, I can’t help think of another story – the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus.

  • Both stories deal with a son of promise.
  • Both stories deal with an only and beloved son (Genesis 22:2). With Jesus, God gave his only Son (John 3:16), his beloved son (Matthew 3:17).
  • Both stories deal with the same geography. The land of Moriah is normally identified with Jerusalem (2 Chronicles 3:1).
  • Both stories deal with an atoning sacrifice. Isaac is to be a burnt offering (Genesis 22:2, see also Leviticus 1:4). Jesus was to be the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29).
  • Both stories affirm faith in resurrection. “By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, ‘Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.’ He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back” (Hebrews 11:17–19, ESV). Hebrews reflects on Abraham’s dilemma and words: “He said to his servants, ‘Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you’” (Genesis 22:5, NIV, emphasis added). For Isaac to fulfill the promise, he had to live beyond the sacrifice. For Jesus to be the glorious King that his identity as Messiah affirmed, he had to live beyond the sacrifice. Isaac was spared; Jesus was offered, but raised.
  • Both stories affirm “God will himself provide the lamb…” (Genesis 22:8, John 3:16).
  • Both stories center on the promise made to Abraham. The promise is reaffirmed after the offering of Isaac (Genesis 22:17-19). Jesus is the promised seed through whom all the world is blessed (Galatians 3:7-9).

I must confess that such comparisons are not popular today, and I’m well aware that typologies can be taken too far. Isaiah 53 is a far clearer place to look for the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. Yet as a reader, I can’t help but see these comparisons. It is as if God is giving in Abraham a glimpse of what was to come two millennia later. Given what was to come, the offering of Isaac is the big hint.