Upon a wall in the Wartburg Castle in Saxony, Germany, is an infamous ink spot where, according to legend, Martin Luther hurled an inkwell in an argument with the devil. Luther said he had a dream in which Satan unfurled a scroll upon which were written all of his life's misdeeds, for which he stood eternally guilty before God's holiness and justice. In a 1521 letter to Philip Melancthon, Luther wrote: "I do see myself insensible and hardened, a slave to sloth, rarely, alas!--praying, unable even to utter a groan for the Church, while my untamed flesh burns with devouring flame."* Accused and attacked by Satan, Luther knew the depths of his sin and unworthiness before God. He knew he deserved the flames of hell.
The reality of wrath and anger as the outflowing results of offenses to God's holinesswere perhaps even better known to the community of Jews returning from the exile, to whom Zechariah preached. Their infidelity to God's covenant had resulted in bloody slaughter, the tearing open of pregnant women, being skinned alive, and even famine so bad that people ate their own children. In the first three night visions given to Zechariah recorded in 1.7 - 2.13, God reassures his remnant of his love and his exceeding passion for them. He is sovereign and aware of their plight and will by no means leave wrongs undone. The day of his glorious return to his people is coming. But how can an unworthy people possibly be met favorably by the God of glory? They knew his manifest presence in the temple was dependent upon holy sacrifices offered by consecrated priests (Ex 29.44-46; 38.28; Lev 16.21). But what happens when even the priestly mediators are now grossly defiled? Is there any hope for man?
The fourth night vision comes like a healing salve. The high priest Joshua ("Yahweh is salvation"), whom we will see more fully in chapter six, is seen standing before God in "filthy" garments. The Hebrew word here is related to the words referring to human excrement and vomit. Such is the vile stench of the priesthood's sin before God! The Accuser (Heb. satan) stands beside him to point out his every shameful deed to God, and rightly so (cf. Rev 12.10).
But look! God doesn't nod in assent or wag a judging finger. No, he says, "The LORD rebuke you, Satan! Indeed, the LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is this not a brand plucked from the fire?" Oh, what beauty is in these words! For God is not against such sinners, but he is for them! Why? First, we see God has "chosen Jerusalem." Mercy to the uttermost will be shown upon filty Jerusalem because of God's election. Wherever goodness and mercy flow, they must come from a Source, whose decision to release them must always be prevenient. Because God's mercy rests upon his choice and not our cleanness--"God demonstrates His own love for us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom 5.8)--we can therefore rejoice along with Paul in saying, "If God is for us, who is against us? ... Who will bring a charge against God's elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns?" (Rom 8.31, 33-34).**
Second, we hear God say that Jerusalem is a "brand [a burning stick] plucked from the fire." The sovereign God who holds the nations in his hands never planned to totally consume the remnant of the Jews, but rather to refine and purify them for service (esp. the priesthood; see Mal 3.3) and turn them back to himself from their bankrupt pursuits (Zech 1.1-6). We who trust in Christ alone have the same assurance: God "has not destined us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Ths 5.9). We can never know for sure why painful trials come in our lives, but we can know they are not for judgment; rather, they always come to cause us to fall upon our Lord in helplessness and in need of his abudant mercies.
----------------
*As found in Walter C. Kaiser, Jr., The Preacher's Commentary, Vol. 23: Micah - Malachi (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1992, 330).
**On vv. 1-2 John Calvin writes: "Let us therefore know, that God is not simply the enemy of Satan, but also one who has taken us under his protection and who will preserve us safe to the end. Hence God, as our Redeemer and the eternal guardian of our salvation, is armed against Satan in order to restrain him. The warfare then is troublesome and difficult, but the victory is not doubtful, for God ever stands on our side.
"But we are at the same time reminded, that we are not to regard what we have deserved in order to gain help from God; for this wholly depends on his gratuitous adoption. Hence, though we are unworthy that God should fight for us, yet his election is sufficient, as he proclaims war against Satan in our behalf. Let us then learn to rely on the gratuitous adoption of God, if we would boldly exult against Satan and all his assaults. It hence follows, that those men who at this day obscure, and seek, as far as they can, to extinguish the doctrine of election, are enemies to the human race; for they strive their utmost to subvert every assurance of salvation" (John Calvin, from his commentary on Zechariah-Malachi located at http://www.ccel.org/c/calvin/comment3/comm_vol30/htm/TOC.htm.)
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Tuesday, November 8, 2005
faith:response
When I first began this blog back in June or whatever, I gave it the title Beloved Before Time. Why? Because, as you can see in the little description thingie to the right, I am coming to see true life as being something already fully accomplished, things that are "done deals." Wait a second, you ask, I've (hopefully) got many years yet to come. How can you say this?
Well, in reality, the Bible makes it clear that when it comes to being accepted by God and being loved by him, or living a God-honoring life in sync with how we were meant to live, everything is a matter of hearing God speak about what he has already done, is doing, or will certainly do, or what he has declared about us, and simply embracing its reality. God decided to adopt us as his children before time began (Eph 1.4-5). The covenant of blood securing our justification before God is equally ancient (Heb. 13.20-21). The decisive moment in history in which evil, sin, and the world were declared bankrupt of any lasting authority happened 1970 years ago upon a barren hillside outside of Jerusalem. Our sanctification is already complete (Heb 10.14). The apostle Paul even speaks of our future glorification in the past tense, a done deal (Rom 8.29-30). When Jesus cried out upon the cross, "It is finished," he wasn't talking about his life. Rather, he was talking about the moment in history to which all other moments point; the moment upon which all of the world's history past, present, and future will either be pierced unto death or unto repentance and life overflowing.
What God calls us to do is simply to embrace these realities. On the past event of the cross, we see the judgment of sin and the fact that God loves and forgives us. In the past event of the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, we see that eternal life is a reality to accept. It goes on like this. Even when Jeremiah was called into his prophetic role, he didn't hem and haw and fret nervously over what he should do. No, he learned that even before he was born God knew him and declared him to be a prophet to the nations (Jer 1.5). He found his life by responding to the already-conceived and declared word of God. Is this not the same for all of us?
I could wax about the beauty of the sacraments and they give our faith new life by serving as concrete symbols pointing us back to the cross and the purification purchased therein. Or I could go on with how I've been seeing this work out in the visions and oracles given to Zechariah--and I will. But until then I'll leave you with some related words from one of my favorite observers of life, Eugene Peterson:
Worship is the essential and central act of the Christian. We do many other things in preparation for and as a result of worship: sing, write, witness, heal, teach, paint, serve, help, build, clean, smile. But the centering act is worship. Worship is the act of giving committed attention to the being and action of God [not ourselves!]. The Christian life is posited on the faith that God is in action. When we worship, it doesn't look like we are doing much--and we aren't. We are looking at what God is doing and orienting our action to the compass points of creation and covenant, judgment and salvation (Reversed Thunder, pp. 140-141).*
The cry for and questioning of God's judgment, "How long?" is now established in its proper context, the act of worship. Judgment is ... experienced as the long-ago launched, deeply worked out, thoroughly accomplished action of God which we entered into through our baptism, the consequences of which we share in our salvation, which we participate in by means of our worship, and the completion of which we already celebrate by means of word and sacrament (ibid, p. 144).
*Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John & the Praying Imagination (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1988).
Well, in reality, the Bible makes it clear that when it comes to being accepted by God and being loved by him, or living a God-honoring life in sync with how we were meant to live, everything is a matter of hearing God speak about what he has already done, is doing, or will certainly do, or what he has declared about us, and simply embracing its reality. God decided to adopt us as his children before time began (Eph 1.4-5). The covenant of blood securing our justification before God is equally ancient (Heb. 13.20-21). The decisive moment in history in which evil, sin, and the world were declared bankrupt of any lasting authority happened 1970 years ago upon a barren hillside outside of Jerusalem. Our sanctification is already complete (Heb 10.14). The apostle Paul even speaks of our future glorification in the past tense, a done deal (Rom 8.29-30). When Jesus cried out upon the cross, "It is finished," he wasn't talking about his life. Rather, he was talking about the moment in history to which all other moments point; the moment upon which all of the world's history past, present, and future will either be pierced unto death or unto repentance and life overflowing.
What God calls us to do is simply to embrace these realities. On the past event of the cross, we see the judgment of sin and the fact that God loves and forgives us. In the past event of the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, we see that eternal life is a reality to accept. It goes on like this. Even when Jeremiah was called into his prophetic role, he didn't hem and haw and fret nervously over what he should do. No, he learned that even before he was born God knew him and declared him to be a prophet to the nations (Jer 1.5). He found his life by responding to the already-conceived and declared word of God. Is this not the same for all of us?
I could wax about the beauty of the sacraments and they give our faith new life by serving as concrete symbols pointing us back to the cross and the purification purchased therein. Or I could go on with how I've been seeing this work out in the visions and oracles given to Zechariah--and I will. But until then I'll leave you with some related words from one of my favorite observers of life, Eugene Peterson:
Worship is the essential and central act of the Christian. We do many other things in preparation for and as a result of worship: sing, write, witness, heal, teach, paint, serve, help, build, clean, smile. But the centering act is worship. Worship is the act of giving committed attention to the being and action of God [not ourselves!]. The Christian life is posited on the faith that God is in action. When we worship, it doesn't look like we are doing much--and we aren't. We are looking at what God is doing and orienting our action to the compass points of creation and covenant, judgment and salvation (Reversed Thunder, pp. 140-141).*
The cry for and questioning of God's judgment, "How long?" is now established in its proper context, the act of worship. Judgment is ... experienced as the long-ago launched, deeply worked out, thoroughly accomplished action of God which we entered into through our baptism, the consequences of which we share in our salvation, which we participate in by means of our worship, and the completion of which we already celebrate by means of word and sacrament (ibid, p. 144).
*Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John & the Praying Imagination (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1988).
Thursday, November 3, 2005
Zechariah 1.7-17: God is aware and cares!
In the year 519 B.C., the prophet/priest Zechariah ("Yahweh remembers") delivers a series of visions and oracles given to him by God sometime in the past (Zech 1.7 – 6.15). His goal is on one plane, like his contemporary Haggai, to encourage the temple rebuilding; but it is also to point the people toward the need for personal and community renewal in order to embrace the totality of God's redemptive work among his people.
In the first night vision (1.7-17) delivered on February 15, 519, Zechariah is shown a shadowy, nighttime military reconnaissance mission in which several (likely manned) horses who have returned from patrolling the earth. There is a man, probably the same as the angel of the LORD in v. 11, seated upon a red horse among myrtle trees, an ancient symbol of both
In verses 12-17 we see the heart of God and the promised future for his people in
The question is answered: Is God gone? Does he care anymore? Was it really true when the psalmist wrote "precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His godly ones" (Ps 116.5)? Why is everyone else at peace while our lives are in turmoil? God answers the second angel, who is speaking with Zechariah, with "gracious words, comforting words" that are heard in vv. 14-17, but they are developed and laid out in picture and promise in the ensuing visions.
God did, in fact, purpose to bring a painful lesson to
Then God promises to return to
As I write this, I'm listening to one of my favorite CD's, Everyone's Beautiful by Waterdeep. Every song points to the sad, fragmented lives we live--but even more to the love of a caring Savior who will not break a bruised reed or snuff a smoldering wick. I see in this a need to seek and find comfort in the community of God. God is "the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort" (2 Cor 1.3, NIV), and here he links his comfort with his presence centered in his temple. We can know and trust that God is ready with open arms to hear our cries of pain and unfulfilled longings, and he promises to comfort us and daily bear our burdens (Ps 68.19; Isa 46.3-4). Jeremiah, plagued by his foes, lamented, "O my Comforter in sorrow, my heart is faint within me" (Jer 8.18, NIV). And we can take comfort in knowing that he is aware of our circumstances and is fully able to change them, as we see in vv. 9-11, although sometimes there may be a seemingly interminable delay. God readily and truly ministers his comforting and strengthening presence to us in personal prayer and reading of the Scriptures, but his Spirit indwells his new temple, the body of Christ, the church. As God's people in community, we ought to be a source of comfort to one another, and we ought to be able to find comfort and help in bearing our sorrows in the listening ears, words, hugs, and helping hands of our brothers and sisters in the Lord. And I don't even know where to begin.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Happy Halloween, er, Reformation Day!
I love October, and it's only natural that my favorite month is capped by my favorite holiday: Halloween (All Hallows' [Saints'] Evening). As a child and to this day, I love tales of ancient British mythology, of ghouls and ghosts and druids and banshees, of eerie lights and howls in the night. But this day has an even greater dearness to me.
On this day, October 31, in 1517 an Augustinian monk named Martin Luther took advantage of the All Saints' (Hallows') Day traffic in Wittenberg, Germany, and nailed his "95 theses" to the cathedral door in Wittenberg, as sort of public bulletin board. His theses regarded the unbiblical nature the current practices of the Roman Catholic Church, namely, in regards to the sale of indulgences. Indulgences were these slips of paper that were sold as tickets to get yourself or a loved one out of years of purgatory--all for a few Deutschmarks or seeing some holy relic! As Luther pondered St. Paul's message to the Romans, esp. 1.16-17, he "beat importunately upon Paul" wondering what it meant that "in [the gospel] the righteousness of [or from] God is revealed." Alas! He discovered that a man's right standing before God is dependent on God's declaration of him as accepted on account of the perfect standing of his Son Jesus Christ, whose sufficient merits are imputed to us through faith. No indulgences, no allegiance to the papacy, no visitation of relics were needed; indeed, such are evil. Luther saw the need for reform, and made it known upon the cathedral door in Wittenberg.
Luther once wrote the following in a 1521 letter to Philip Melancthon, another 16th-century Reformer:
If you are a preacher of mercy, do not preach an imaginary but the true mercy. If the mercy is true, you must therefore bear the true, not an imaginary sin. God does not save those who are only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner, and sin strongly, but trust in Christ more strongly still, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for this life is not a place where justice abides. We, however, says Peter (2 Peter 3.13) are looking forwared to a new heaven and a new earth where justice will reign. It suffices that through God's glory we have recognized the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. No sin can separate us from Him, even if we were to kill or commit adultery thousands of times each day. Do you think such an exalted Lamb paid merely a small price with a meager sacrifice for our sins? Pray hard for you are quite a sinner.
Duh, we were never meant to be perfect! This world is a fallen place wherein we all need restoration and redemption. Though we are far too gone to fix ourselves by our own efforts through good deeds, pentitential prayers, flaggelation, self-aggrandization, sacrifices, or enlightened philosophies, we have a sure hope: We have been purchased for God with the imperishable, precious blood of Jesus Christ, on account of which we are now forgiven, accepted, given Christ's own righteousness, and sealed in the Holy Spirit (Eph 1.3-14; 2 Cor 5.21). We no longer need to fulfill the righteous demands of God's law, for Christ has become to us Israel, fulfilling God's demands and being perfected through what he suffered. He has taken our sinful natures in exchange for his own righteousness before God. It's finished, indeed.
So when you grumble at your roommates, fail to pray for your family, made a snide remark to someone, feel ungrateful that you can know God, or have sex with your girlfriend/boyfriend, know this: You are a sinner under God's divine wrath, but Jesus has borne your punishment so fully that all that is left to you is God's mercy, love, and acceptance. Run to him, cling to him, embrace this glorious, comforting truth!
I love what Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes in regard to sin and confession in the Christian fellowship:
The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous. So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy. The fact is that we are sinners!
But it is the grace of the Gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner that you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone. . . . You do not have to go on lying to yourself and your brothers, as if you were without sin; you can dare to be a sinner. Thank God for that; He loves the sinner but He hates sin" (Life Together, pp. 110-111).
For a related article on "the righteousness of God", see here.
On this day, October 31, in 1517 an Augustinian monk named Martin Luther took advantage of the All Saints' (Hallows') Day traffic in Wittenberg, Germany, and nailed his "95 theses" to the cathedral door in Wittenberg, as sort of public bulletin board. His theses regarded the unbiblical nature the current practices of the Roman Catholic Church, namely, in regards to the sale of indulgences. Indulgences were these slips of paper that were sold as tickets to get yourself or a loved one out of years of purgatory--all for a few Deutschmarks or seeing some holy relic! As Luther pondered St. Paul's message to the Romans, esp. 1.16-17, he "beat importunately upon Paul" wondering what it meant that "in [the gospel] the righteousness of [or from] God is revealed." Alas! He discovered that a man's right standing before God is dependent on God's declaration of him as accepted on account of the perfect standing of his Son Jesus Christ, whose sufficient merits are imputed to us through faith. No indulgences, no allegiance to the papacy, no visitation of relics were needed; indeed, such are evil. Luther saw the need for reform, and made it known upon the cathedral door in Wittenberg.
Luther once wrote the following in a 1521 letter to Philip Melancthon, another 16th-century Reformer:
If you are a preacher of mercy, do not preach an imaginary but the true mercy. If the mercy is true, you must therefore bear the true, not an imaginary sin. God does not save those who are only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner, and sin strongly, but trust in Christ more strongly still, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for this life is not a place where justice abides. We, however, says Peter (2 Peter 3.13) are looking forwared to a new heaven and a new earth where justice will reign. It suffices that through God's glory we have recognized the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. No sin can separate us from Him, even if we were to kill or commit adultery thousands of times each day. Do you think such an exalted Lamb paid merely a small price with a meager sacrifice for our sins? Pray hard for you are quite a sinner.
Duh, we were never meant to be perfect! This world is a fallen place wherein we all need restoration and redemption. Though we are far too gone to fix ourselves by our own efforts through good deeds, pentitential prayers, flaggelation, self-aggrandization, sacrifices, or enlightened philosophies, we have a sure hope: We have been purchased for God with the imperishable, precious blood of Jesus Christ, on account of which we are now forgiven, accepted, given Christ's own righteousness, and sealed in the Holy Spirit (Eph 1.3-14; 2 Cor 5.21). We no longer need to fulfill the righteous demands of God's law, for Christ has become to us Israel, fulfilling God's demands and being perfected through what he suffered. He has taken our sinful natures in exchange for his own righteousness before God. It's finished, indeed.
So when you grumble at your roommates, fail to pray for your family, made a snide remark to someone, feel ungrateful that you can know God, or have sex with your girlfriend/boyfriend, know this: You are a sinner under God's divine wrath, but Jesus has borne your punishment so fully that all that is left to you is God's mercy, love, and acceptance. Run to him, cling to him, embrace this glorious, comforting truth!
* * *
I love what Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes in regard to sin and confession in the Christian fellowship:
The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous. So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy. The fact is that we are sinners!
But it is the grace of the Gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner that you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone. . . . You do not have to go on lying to yourself and your brothers, as if you were without sin; you can dare to be a sinner. Thank God for that; He loves the sinner but He hates sin" (Life Together, pp. 110-111).
For a related article on "the righteousness of God", see here.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Spam
Do any of you know how to prevent getting spammed in my comments? Every post of mine seems to get spammed.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Zechariah 2: God's glory will dwell with us -- so return to him!
Okay, Mollie, I'm going to follow suit and put up some lengthy post outlining the message of a biblical passage. My choice: Zechariah's third night vision (2.1-13). In 1.7-17 we see Zechariah receive a message from God that he is angry with the nations who took their punishment of his people too far. God is passionate for his people and will deal out retribution and restore his people and their city Jerusalem, blessing it with his presence. And to pave the way for such blessing, he calls his people to return to him (1.1-6).
Some commentators break this up into a vision (2.1-5) and a resulting oracle delivered by Zechariah (2.6-13). I beg to differ (along iwth Walter Kaiser and John Calvin): its entirety is in the vision, and the "me" of vv. 8, 9, and 11 is the "another angel" of v. 3, that is, the Angel of the LORD (1. 12), who throughout the OT is a manifestation of the preincarnate Son of God. Basically, vv. 1-5 and 10-13 are a continued message, with vv. 6-9 seriving as a parenthesis concerning the fate of Babylon, hearkening back to its promised ruin in 1.15, 18-21.
VERSES 1-5, 10-13
Zechariah sees a man carrying a surveyor's line, who is planning on measuring Jerusalem. When the Jews returned from exile beginning in 538 B.C. (this message was delivered to the people in 519 B.C.), the city was in shambles--the temple included. The people believed that this meant their complete rejection by God; even Jesus' disciples thought the temple's destruction would mean the end of the world (see Matt 24.1-3). The people despaired when they began rebuilding the temple and the city because of how small it was and because of the ever-present oppression of neighboring peoples (Ezra 3.12; 4.1-5; Hag 2.3). The anel sends a message to the man telling him to drop any thoughts about measuring the city. In other words, "Don't look at the city's present size, however small it may be right now. Don't look to the current visible situation, but to the glory to come!" "Jerusalem will be inhabited without walls [lit. like unwalled villages] because of the multitude of men and cattle within it." Why? Because God promises to be a "wall of fire around her" and her glory within.
In vv. 10-11 God declares that in the time of Jerusalem's restoration "many nations will join themselves to the LORD in that day and will become My people. Then I will dwell in your midst." From numerous other places in Scripture referring to the post-exilic restoration of Jerusalem, this influx of people isn't limited to the Jews coming back from being scattered to the four winds in the diaspora (v. 6), but also that persons from many peoples will join themselves to God and enter into covenant relationship with him (Isa 11.10-16; 49.19-20; 56.6-8). We see this fulfillment not in some distant "millenium," but right here and how in the building of the church. We can see that the "multitude" of v. 4 is reflected in John's heavenly vision of the church in Rev 7.9-10. And the parallel account of the restoration of Israel followed by the destruction of Babylon (Gog and Magog) in Ezekiel 38 (also Rev 19.17-21; 20.7-10) clearly portrays the church era. Why? We see in Ezekiel a great eschatological battle following the close of the "millenium" in which Gog (Babylon) battles the "land of unwalled villages" (38.11; see Zech 2.4). The battles described in Rev 19.17-21 and 20.7-10 are one and the same, both being records of the downfall of Babylon/Gog, the worldly and spiritual powers set up against the kingdom of Christ.*
Such ruin upon Babylon will come "after glory" (Zech 2.6), that is, after the time of glory promised in v. 5. So it will come after God gathers a multitude of people from among the nations to become his partners in the new covenant (cf. the gathering of the elect from the four winds, Matt 24.31).
The Jews thought too small; they looked to physical walls and boundaries. Were they not just as blind to the inclusion of the Gentiles as well, believing that there are barriers of ethnicity preventing their inclusion? This is exactly what God is calling them to reject here. City walls were not only for defining boundaries; their chief goal was protection from enemies. We need to see things from a God-sized perspective in which the "GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies" (Msg.) is in control of things and is working to bring about his glory among the nations of the world. He cannot and will not be thwarted by anyone in bringing people to himself and slaying all physical and spiritual powers set up against his kingdom--a verdict already cast and accomplished in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yet without the eyes of faith, all we can see is opposition. But God promises us much more: he is creating an expansive people no longer defined by earthly walls and borders, in need of the protection of the weapons of man ("Jerusalem will be a city without walls"). On the contrary, his people are now marked by the fire of his purifying and protecting presence, namely, that of his Holy Spirit ("I will be a wall of fire around her, and I will be the glory in her midst"; cf Isa 4.2-6; Acts 2.3).
Let us dream big and trust in the LORD of hosts in bringing even the most unexpected people to himself. He makes no limits to whom he can and will include, and his promised protection of an impenetrable wall of fire is with us.
VERSES 6-9
God here calls his people to flee Bablyon because of (1) the promise of blessing upon Judah (1.16-17; 2.4-5, 10-13) and (2) the coming judgment of Babylon. The God who is "exceedingly jealous" for his people is aroused from his holy dwelling, irate against those who have sought to harm the "apple of His eye." Babylon's destruction never did totally occur yet: Cyrus king of Persia overthrew it in 539 B.C., and Darius of Persia later chastized it severely for its rebellions (521), but destruction was hardly the right word -- at least nothing like what happened to Jerusalem. The reality is that the true judgment of Babylon is yet to come by the sword of Christ the Victor (Rev 19.17-21). So God calls to his people: "Ho, Zion! Escape, you who are living with the daughter of Babylon."
We see this same call echoed in Rev 18.4-8, where we see Babylon as representative of sin and rebellion against God. In the 6th century B.C., life in Babylon and Persia was more prosperous than in the province of Yehud and the frail city of Jerusalem. Not only that, but a long, tiring journey was required to make the trip back home. We, too, are called to leave our patterns of sin and return to the dwelling and presence of God, our hearts' true home. This often comes with a loud wake-up call of "Ho there!" (Zech 2.6; Isa 55.1) or "Awake, O sleeper!" (Eph 5.14). The promise stands for us to enter into relationship to God through faith and repentance: "Return to me, and I will return to you" (Zech 1.3).
- - -
*This, therefore, reveals that the "thousand years" of Rev 20.1-6 are actually the present age inaugurated by the life of Jesus and culminated by his second advent. This stance is known as "amillenialism" or "realized millenialism."
Some commentators break this up into a vision (2.1-5) and a resulting oracle delivered by Zechariah (2.6-13). I beg to differ (along iwth Walter Kaiser and John Calvin): its entirety is in the vision, and the "me" of vv. 8, 9, and 11 is the "another angel" of v. 3, that is, the Angel of the LORD (1. 12), who throughout the OT is a manifestation of the preincarnate Son of God. Basically, vv. 1-5 and 10-13 are a continued message, with vv. 6-9 seriving as a parenthesis concerning the fate of Babylon, hearkening back to its promised ruin in 1.15, 18-21.
VERSES 1-5, 10-13
Zechariah sees a man carrying a surveyor's line, who is planning on measuring Jerusalem. When the Jews returned from exile beginning in 538 B.C. (this message was delivered to the people in 519 B.C.), the city was in shambles--the temple included. The people believed that this meant their complete rejection by God; even Jesus' disciples thought the temple's destruction would mean the end of the world (see Matt 24.1-3). The people despaired when they began rebuilding the temple and the city because of how small it was and because of the ever-present oppression of neighboring peoples (Ezra 3.12; 4.1-5; Hag 2.3). The anel sends a message to the man telling him to drop any thoughts about measuring the city. In other words, "Don't look at the city's present size, however small it may be right now. Don't look to the current visible situation, but to the glory to come!" "Jerusalem will be inhabited without walls [lit. like unwalled villages] because of the multitude of men and cattle within it." Why? Because God promises to be a "wall of fire around her" and her glory within.
In vv. 10-11 God declares that in the time of Jerusalem's restoration "many nations will join themselves to the LORD in that day and will become My people. Then I will dwell in your midst." From numerous other places in Scripture referring to the post-exilic restoration of Jerusalem, this influx of people isn't limited to the Jews coming back from being scattered to the four winds in the diaspora (v. 6), but also that persons from many peoples will join themselves to God and enter into covenant relationship with him (Isa 11.10-16; 49.19-20; 56.6-8). We see this fulfillment not in some distant "millenium," but right here and how in the building of the church. We can see that the "multitude" of v. 4 is reflected in John's heavenly vision of the church in Rev 7.9-10. And the parallel account of the restoration of Israel followed by the destruction of Babylon (Gog and Magog) in Ezekiel 38 (also Rev 19.17-21; 20.7-10) clearly portrays the church era. Why? We see in Ezekiel a great eschatological battle following the close of the "millenium" in which Gog (Babylon) battles the "land of unwalled villages" (38.11; see Zech 2.4). The battles described in Rev 19.17-21 and 20.7-10 are one and the same, both being records of the downfall of Babylon/Gog, the worldly and spiritual powers set up against the kingdom of Christ.*
Such ruin upon Babylon will come "after glory" (Zech 2.6), that is, after the time of glory promised in v. 5. So it will come after God gathers a multitude of people from among the nations to become his partners in the new covenant (cf. the gathering of the elect from the four winds, Matt 24.31).
The Jews thought too small; they looked to physical walls and boundaries. Were they not just as blind to the inclusion of the Gentiles as well, believing that there are barriers of ethnicity preventing their inclusion? This is exactly what God is calling them to reject here. City walls were not only for defining boundaries; their chief goal was protection from enemies. We need to see things from a God-sized perspective in which the "GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies" (Msg.) is in control of things and is working to bring about his glory among the nations of the world. He cannot and will not be thwarted by anyone in bringing people to himself and slaying all physical and spiritual powers set up against his kingdom--a verdict already cast and accomplished in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yet without the eyes of faith, all we can see is opposition. But God promises us much more: he is creating an expansive people no longer defined by earthly walls and borders, in need of the protection of the weapons of man ("Jerusalem will be a city without walls"). On the contrary, his people are now marked by the fire of his purifying and protecting presence, namely, that of his Holy Spirit ("I will be a wall of fire around her, and I will be the glory in her midst"; cf Isa 4.2-6; Acts 2.3).
Let us dream big and trust in the LORD of hosts in bringing even the most unexpected people to himself. He makes no limits to whom he can and will include, and his promised protection of an impenetrable wall of fire is with us.
VERSES 6-9
God here calls his people to flee Bablyon because of (1) the promise of blessing upon Judah (1.16-17; 2.4-5, 10-13) and (2) the coming judgment of Babylon. The God who is "exceedingly jealous" for his people is aroused from his holy dwelling, irate against those who have sought to harm the "apple of His eye." Babylon's destruction never did totally occur yet: Cyrus king of Persia overthrew it in 539 B.C., and Darius of Persia later chastized it severely for its rebellions (521), but destruction was hardly the right word -- at least nothing like what happened to Jerusalem. The reality is that the true judgment of Babylon is yet to come by the sword of Christ the Victor (Rev 19.17-21). So God calls to his people: "Ho, Zion! Escape, you who are living with the daughter of Babylon."
We see this same call echoed in Rev 18.4-8, where we see Babylon as representative of sin and rebellion against God. In the 6th century B.C., life in Babylon and Persia was more prosperous than in the province of Yehud and the frail city of Jerusalem. Not only that, but a long, tiring journey was required to make the trip back home. We, too, are called to leave our patterns of sin and return to the dwelling and presence of God, our hearts' true home. This often comes with a loud wake-up call of "Ho there!" (Zech 2.6; Isa 55.1) or "Awake, O sleeper!" (Eph 5.14). The promise stands for us to enter into relationship to God through faith and repentance: "Return to me, and I will return to you" (Zech 1.3).
- - -
*This, therefore, reveals that the "thousand years" of Rev 20.1-6 are actually the present age inaugurated by the life of Jesus and culminated by his second advent. This stance is known as "amillenialism" or "realized millenialism."
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
The cross in ministry
God's word is living and active indeed. Despite being spoken through his prophet Haggai in 520 B.C., his words are still having an impact on me.
Turkey was once where Christianity was officially given acceptance by the Roman Empire under Emperor Constantine. Amazing churches such as the Hagia Sophia were built here, and Jesus Christ was known and worshiped here for over a millenium. All of the churches to whom John wrote his apocalypse were here. Yet nowadays it stands as a nation of 72 million people, most of whom are cultural Muslims, with only 3500 or so known Turkish or Kurdish believers. "Who is left among you who saw this temple in its former glory? And how do you see it now? Does it not seem to you like nothing in comparison?" (Hag 2.3).
It's a little disappointing to me to work here and see relatively little fruit. I know it's really early in the year, but still. I start making comparisons to ministry in the States, where so many of the barriers--most notably not living in an Islamic culture--are gone. Here churches have maybe fifty people.
God sent Haggai to give hope to people who were engaged in the Lord's work and worship in rebuilding the temple. Yet when they looked at how difficult their task was and how much smaller and less glorious the newer incarnation of the temple was, they were saddened and in despair (2.3; cf Ezra 3.12). But could it also be that they dreamt of being where the glory and action were? That's much easier than faithfully trusting God's call and provision regardless of how insignificant the work may appear.
Luther was right when he summed up Christian living as centered on a theology of the cross, not a theology of glory. Such applies here: (1) The life that embraces the cross embraces shame in the eyes of the world. While some pastors have megachurches--not a bad thing at all in itself--we instead get seven students to show up to a weekly "YY" meeting. Our work may be humble and unnoticed now, but so goes the cross. Yet glory will come later (Hag 2.6-9)! (2) This work also requires the cross in another way, namely, dying on my own. I want things to be easier, more comfortable, and more fruitful, but I don't get that. I remember back to the summer of 2003 when I surrendered and committed to coming here. It gave me a lot of peace. Now Christ calls me to take up my cross and die again. But only herein does he say I will find true, abundant life (Luke 9.23-24).
"Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord" (1 Cor 15.58).
Turkey was once where Christianity was officially given acceptance by the Roman Empire under Emperor Constantine. Amazing churches such as the Hagia Sophia were built here, and Jesus Christ was known and worshiped here for over a millenium. All of the churches to whom John wrote his apocalypse were here. Yet nowadays it stands as a nation of 72 million people, most of whom are cultural Muslims, with only 3500 or so known Turkish or Kurdish believers. "Who is left among you who saw this temple in its former glory? And how do you see it now? Does it not seem to you like nothing in comparison?" (Hag 2.3).
It's a little disappointing to me to work here and see relatively little fruit. I know it's really early in the year, but still. I start making comparisons to ministry in the States, where so many of the barriers--most notably not living in an Islamic culture--are gone. Here churches have maybe fifty people.
God sent Haggai to give hope to people who were engaged in the Lord's work and worship in rebuilding the temple. Yet when they looked at how difficult their task was and how much smaller and less glorious the newer incarnation of the temple was, they were saddened and in despair (2.3; cf Ezra 3.12). But could it also be that they dreamt of being where the glory and action were? That's much easier than faithfully trusting God's call and provision regardless of how insignificant the work may appear.
Luther was right when he summed up Christian living as centered on a theology of the cross, not a theology of glory. Such applies here: (1) The life that embraces the cross embraces shame in the eyes of the world. While some pastors have megachurches--not a bad thing at all in itself--we instead get seven students to show up to a weekly "YY" meeting. Our work may be humble and unnoticed now, but so goes the cross. Yet glory will come later (Hag 2.6-9)! (2) This work also requires the cross in another way, namely, dying on my own. I want things to be easier, more comfortable, and more fruitful, but I don't get that. I remember back to the summer of 2003 when I surrendered and committed to coming here. It gave me a lot of peace. Now Christ calls me to take up my cross and die again. But only herein does he say I will find true, abundant life (Luke 9.23-24).
"Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord" (1 Cor 15.58).
Our God is a consuming . . . summer breeze?
Over the weekend God has continued to teach me more--but not what my flesh desires. I've been rather frustrated with my time here in Turkey so far. I miss a lot of the comforts of home, the ease of conversing in English with no difficulties in comprehension or communication, and the fact that things make sense. I haven't really been able to have much in the way of opportunities to share the gospel so far, and I'm really itching for that. It seems like everyone I can actually talk with is a committed Muslim who stops at the belief that the Bible has been changed and is no longer trustworthy (prophecies foretelling the coming of Muhammad notwithstanding). Add all that together and it leaves me frustrated and angry with this place.
Elijah, similarly irate with the idolatry and stubbornness around him, fled to Mount Horeb and vented his frustrations to God (1 Kings 19). I think he wanted God to send his fire to consume his enemies and put an end to his sources of frustration, as he had done on Mount Carmel not long before (1 Kings 18). Yet God does not come in a violent wind, an earthquake, or fire, but rather in a gentle blowing (or "still, small voice", KJV).
Elijah obviously didn't get it: he repeated his complaints to God. Yet in showing himself not in fierce judgment but in a quiet whisper, in gentleness and restraint, God reveals his mercy to Elijah. He would've been fully justified in destroying the ungodly, but it wasn't the time. So Elijah had to carry on his mission for the rest of his life, even appointing another to carry on his prophetic work after his departure from this earth.
God is restraining his judgment for the sake of salvation, not out of weakness or ignorance (2 Peter 3.9). He is a God who has incredible compassion and wills that all men hear the gospel and respond in repentance and faith. Duh, this is why I'm here in the first place! It's precisely because his mercy is true and because he is full of compassion and love that I wish for others to know him. But instead I want him to nuke this place so I can go home. I want to hear, "You can go home now; I'm going to cut off these people." It's amazing how stupid I've become in taking my own salvation for granted. After all, if God had not been patient with America and with me, I too would be subject to the fullness of his wrath.
Elijah, similarly irate with the idolatry and stubbornness around him, fled to Mount Horeb and vented his frustrations to God (1 Kings 19). I think he wanted God to send his fire to consume his enemies and put an end to his sources of frustration, as he had done on Mount Carmel not long before (1 Kings 18). Yet God does not come in a violent wind, an earthquake, or fire, but rather in a gentle blowing (or "still, small voice", KJV).
Elijah obviously didn't get it: he repeated his complaints to God. Yet in showing himself not in fierce judgment but in a quiet whisper, in gentleness and restraint, God reveals his mercy to Elijah. He would've been fully justified in destroying the ungodly, but it wasn't the time. So Elijah had to carry on his mission for the rest of his life, even appointing another to carry on his prophetic work after his departure from this earth.
God is restraining his judgment for the sake of salvation, not out of weakness or ignorance (2 Peter 3.9). He is a God who has incredible compassion and wills that all men hear the gospel and respond in repentance and faith. Duh, this is why I'm here in the first place! It's precisely because his mercy is true and because he is full of compassion and love that I wish for others to know him. But instead I want him to nuke this place so I can go home. I want to hear, "You can go home now; I'm going to cut off these people." It's amazing how stupid I've become in taking my own salvation for granted. After all, if God had not been patient with America and with me, I too would be subject to the fullness of his wrath.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Lift up your heads
World Wars I & II.
Nuclear weaponry.
September 11, 2001.
The tsunami.
Hurricane Katrina.
Guatemalan landslides.
Pakistani earthquake.
What do these all have in common? Three things:
(1) Our world is fallen and sinful. We cannot know for sure whether or not these things happened as a result of sin--indeed, calamity often does not (see Luke 13.2,4). But we do know that much of this futility and destruction we experience is the direct consequence of our sinfulness (cf Gen 3.17-19).
(2) The end of the world as we know it is drawing ever nearer. Not even the Son of Man himself knows the day when he will be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire (2 Thess 1.7). Yet he himself said that these last days will be marked with natural disasters and wars: "Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom and there will be great earthquakes, and in various places plagues and famines . . . and on the earth dismay among the nations, in perplexity at the roaring of the sea and waves" (Luke 21.10-11,25). Now I'm not one at all for Tim Lahaye novels and all that kind of time-wasting crap--c'mon, I'm a covenant amill--but I do know that Jesus has linked such events inextricably with his second coming (Luke 21.26-28). "When these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near!"
(3) Because we live in a fallen world full of sin and unbelief, Christ will come "dealing out retribution to those who do not know God and to those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. These will pay the penalty of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of His power" (2 Thess 1.8-9). Maybe we haven't yet been affected by terrorist attacks or natural disasters, but those who do not repent and embrace the risen Christ will all likewise perish (Luke 13.1-5)!
(I'm sorry that this isn't exactly an entertaining post, but it's just plain true and has caught my attention even more in light of the 54,000+ deaths in Pakistan. Is it mere coincidence that such horrendous things have been happening with increasing frequency?)
Nuclear weaponry.
September 11, 2001.
The tsunami.
Hurricane Katrina.
Guatemalan landslides.
Pakistani earthquake.
What do these all have in common? Three things:
(1) Our world is fallen and sinful. We cannot know for sure whether or not these things happened as a result of sin--indeed, calamity often does not (see Luke 13.2,4). But we do know that much of this futility and destruction we experience is the direct consequence of our sinfulness (cf Gen 3.17-19).
(2) The end of the world as we know it is drawing ever nearer. Not even the Son of Man himself knows the day when he will be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire (2 Thess 1.7). Yet he himself said that these last days will be marked with natural disasters and wars: "Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom and there will be great earthquakes, and in various places plagues and famines . . . and on the earth dismay among the nations, in perplexity at the roaring of the sea and waves" (Luke 21.10-11,25). Now I'm not one at all for Tim Lahaye novels and all that kind of time-wasting crap--c'mon, I'm a covenant amill--but I do know that Jesus has linked such events inextricably with his second coming (Luke 21.26-28). "When these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near!"
(3) Because we live in a fallen world full of sin and unbelief, Christ will come "dealing out retribution to those who do not know God and to those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. These will pay the penalty of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of His power" (2 Thess 1.8-9). Maybe we haven't yet been affected by terrorist attacks or natural disasters, but those who do not repent and embrace the risen Christ will all likewise perish (Luke 13.1-5)!
(I'm sorry that this isn't exactly an entertaining post, but it's just plain true and has caught my attention even more in light of the 54,000+ deaths in Pakistan. Is it mere coincidence that such horrendous things have been happening with increasing frequency?)
Sunday, October 16, 2005
"A Poem on Law & Gospel" by Ralph Erskine, 1745
The law supposing I have all,
Does ever for perfection call;
The gospel suits my total want,
And all the law can seek does grant.The law could promise life to me,
If my obedience perfect be;
But grace does promise life upon
My Lord's obedience alone.The law says, Do, and life you'll win;
But grace says, Live, for all is done;
The former cannot ease my grief,
The latter yields me full relief.The law will not abate a mite,
The gospel all the sum will quit;
There God in thret'nings is array'd
But here in promises display'd.The law excludes not boasting vain,
But rather feeds it to my bane;
But gospel grace allows no boasts,
Save in the King, the Lord of Hosts.The law brings terror to molest,
The gospel gives the weary rest;
The one does flags of death display,
The other shows the living way.The law's a house of bondage sore,
The gospel opens prison doors;
The first me hamer'd in its net,
The last at freedom kindly set.An angry God the law reveal'd
The gospel shows him reconciled;
By that I know he was displeased,
By this I see his wrath appeased.The law still shows a fiery face,
The gospel shows a throne of grace;
There justice rides alone in state,
But here she takes the mercy-seat.Lo! in the law Jehovah dwells,
But Jesus is conceal'd;
Whereas the gospel's nothing else
But Jesus Christ reveal'd.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Leadership, Jesus-style
Everywhere I go, I see the face of perhaps the greatest political and societal revolutionary/reformer of the past few centuries: Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. Not only did he lead Turkey to independence from Greece and other foreign powers in 1923, but he instituted many sweeping changes that brought Turkey from being an ineffective and obscure Near Eastern agricultural country to being a modern force with which to be reckoned in both Europe and Asia. Changing the Turkish alphabet, banning Islamic rule, changing people's normal attire, and setting up a quasi-democratic government (that is, until the military decides the country is heading in the wrong direction and intervenes or performs yet another violent coup because they're apparently much wiser than the people) are but a few of his accomplishments.
Yet while I look at his picture, I see someone esteemed greatly in the eyes of man, not on account of his humility, meekness, or peacefulness, but on account of his military conquests, intelligence, resourcefulness, and charisma. Yet in the eyes of Jesus, true authority and greatness looks far different: "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10.43-45). Why are these such hard words, when indeed they're the only ones that truly make sense?
In one of his sermons on leadership lessons from Nehemiah, my pastor said that no one can consider himself to be a leader unless he has people actually following him. Being a leader--whether in a place of business, the government, civic office, classroom, church, or household--demands that people trust you and want to follow you because they know they will be cared for and have their needs met. As noted by philosopher Blaise Pascal, one's every decision is for the sake of gaining and increasing his happiness; even those followers of Hitler or Pol Pot acted thus. This demands that leaders serve those under them. This is the reason why the roles and responsibilities of husbands, fathers, and bosses can really work (Eph 5.22 - 6.9). And because we've all been entrusted with the guidance and care of one another within the body of Christ, we are all called to be the servant of all.
In his book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer sums up the need for loving service to our brothers as the prerequisite for the highest of services: speaking the Word of God to one another:
The speaking of that Word is beset with infinite perils. If it is not accompanied by worthy listening, how can it really be the right word for another person? If it is contradicted by one's own lack of active helpfulness, how can it be a convincing and sincere word? If it issues, not from a spirit of bearing and forebearing, but from impatience and the desire to force its acceptance, how can it be the liberating and healing word? (p. 104)
Why is this so hard for us? What is in our human nature that so quickly dismisses these words of Jesus so that we can get on with boosting our egos and receiving praise from others? Jesus clearly warns us that seeking honor from men hinders our faith (John 5.44). And wherein does our faith lie? Is it not indeed in a God who condescended and shook off his rights in order to get whipped, mocked, hung from a wooden beam, and fed vinegar? The only profitable faith lies fixed upon the cross of Christ, and thus the life of faith must equally be an embracing of this cross in daily life. Let us be servants to all.
Yet while I look at his picture, I see someone esteemed greatly in the eyes of man, not on account of his humility, meekness, or peacefulness, but on account of his military conquests, intelligence, resourcefulness, and charisma. Yet in the eyes of Jesus, true authority and greatness looks far different: "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10.43-45). Why are these such hard words, when indeed they're the only ones that truly make sense?
In one of his sermons on leadership lessons from Nehemiah, my pastor said that no one can consider himself to be a leader unless he has people actually following him. Being a leader--whether in a place of business, the government, civic office, classroom, church, or household--demands that people trust you and want to follow you because they know they will be cared for and have their needs met. As noted by philosopher Blaise Pascal, one's every decision is for the sake of gaining and increasing his happiness; even those followers of Hitler or Pol Pot acted thus. This demands that leaders serve those under them. This is the reason why the roles and responsibilities of husbands, fathers, and bosses can really work (Eph 5.22 - 6.9). And because we've all been entrusted with the guidance and care of one another within the body of Christ, we are all called to be the servant of all.
In his book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer sums up the need for loving service to our brothers as the prerequisite for the highest of services: speaking the Word of God to one another:
The speaking of that Word is beset with infinite perils. If it is not accompanied by worthy listening, how can it really be the right word for another person? If it is contradicted by one's own lack of active helpfulness, how can it be a convincing and sincere word? If it issues, not from a spirit of bearing and forebearing, but from impatience and the desire to force its acceptance, how can it be the liberating and healing word? (p. 104)
Why is this so hard for us? What is in our human nature that so quickly dismisses these words of Jesus so that we can get on with boosting our egos and receiving praise from others? Jesus clearly warns us that seeking honor from men hinders our faith (John 5.44). And wherein does our faith lie? Is it not indeed in a God who condescended and shook off his rights in order to get whipped, mocked, hung from a wooden beam, and fed vinegar? The only profitable faith lies fixed upon the cross of Christ, and thus the life of faith must equally be an embracing of this cross in daily life. Let us be servants to all.
Thursday, October 6, 2005
A [long] walk to remember
I've been studying the messages God sent to his people through Haggai, and I've been learning some great stuff. It's highly recommended. The basic premise of the book is this: the beginnings of the remnant of God's people have returned to Jerusalem at the decree of Cyrus, King of Persia (538 B.C.) and began to work on the temple foundation. But in the face of foreign opposition and skewed, self-directed priorities, the temple work is halted for sixteen years. Haggai comes to arouse people from their slumber in 520 B.C. (1.1-11).
In the second chapter, Haggai is called to deliver a message on the final day of the Feast of Tabernacles, which commemorated the presence of God and his provision during the years in the desert returning from exile in Egypt. The people would have also remembered that Solomon's glorious temple was dedicated during the Feast. In the midst of the temple rebuilding (again), the people look around them at the smaller temple foundation and weep in despair (2.3). God's voice enters with this message: "Be strong, all you people of the land, declares the LORD. Work, for I am with you, declares the LORD of hosts, according to the covenant that I made with you when you came out of Egypt. My Spirit remains in your midst. Fear not" (2.4f).
With the LORD of hosts' promise of being with his people to continue the temple rebuilding--a message given during the Feast's remembrance of the exodus--God calls his people back to Sinai. Exodus 25 - 40 is all about the design and construction of the tabernacle, where God would manifest his presence among his people on their pilgrimage through the desert. The account gives extreme attention to detail, pointing toward God's holiness and perfection.
Then comes the sordid affair with the golden calf (Ex 32). The proverbial shit hits the fan, Moses and God both get pissed, and the tabernacle construction account is halted--much like the people's failures to rebuilt the temple in Haggai 1. What, of all things, does Moses plead for? God's presence (33.12-16; 34.9). And Yahweh grants it and seals his promised presence with a covenant and the promise to do miraculous things through their hands (34.10). The tabernacle's work resumes under God's promised presence. In Haggai, despite the people's complacency and mis- (read: man-) directed priorities, God promises to be with them and stirs them up to build a glorious temple.
So why am I explaining all this? The temple is a place where God is to be worshiped by people who see the manifestation and representation of his holiness. It is where he dwells with his people and makes himself known, where he draws people to hope, healing, joy, and restoration. All of the directives given in Exodus point toward this. If the temple and God's workings were all about man, God could have simply destroyed Israel in the desert and wouldn't care. But they're not. They're about God and his pleasure in his kingdom, in being worshiped, in being known, in restoring the works of his hands (Hag 1.8). Therefore at Moses' request he grants mercy upon rebellious Israel and promises his presence and blessing in order to continue the temple work. The same goes for the building of Solomon's temple (1 Kings 8) and Zerubbabel's (Hag 1.13; 2.4f).
In other words, God's desire for worship and pleasure is the basis of his mercy. Because God is God-focused, he has mercy. This thread runs throughout Ezekiel. Let us rejoice! As surely as God is for his glory, he is merciful (Ex 33.18; 34.6f). Paul caught this as well: our salvation and blessing is not on account of us, but on account of "the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the beloved" (Eph 1.5f, NKJV). And so we can praise God that as surely as his desire is for his praise, so too can we be assured of his mercy and gracious blessings upon all who turn to him and seek him wholeheartedly.
On a related note, Haggai 2.1-9 teaches us to focus not on the present, but on the Presence. How often we are tempted to say, "Man, I wish _____ were like it was back then"! I am often tempted to despair when I look to my sin or lack of zeal for the Lord. Yet God calls us to focus not on the past nor our present weakness, but on the resources given us through his Spirit and confirmed to us through his Word. He promises his presence on account of his mercy, which has been displayed and accomplished once for all upon the cross and shown us in our baptism and the supper. As baptism shows us a physical washing, the Spirit confirms to us that our washing in Christ is just as certain. And as we partake in the bread and wine, the Spirit assures us that the new covenant in Christ's body and blood is just as real, bringing the promise that his Spirit is within and among us to bring us and the work of our hands to established glory (Ps 90.17; 2 Cor 1.21-22).
In the second chapter, Haggai is called to deliver a message on the final day of the Feast of Tabernacles, which commemorated the presence of God and his provision during the years in the desert returning from exile in Egypt. The people would have also remembered that Solomon's glorious temple was dedicated during the Feast. In the midst of the temple rebuilding (again), the people look around them at the smaller temple foundation and weep in despair (2.3). God's voice enters with this message: "Be strong, all you people of the land, declares the LORD. Work, for I am with you, declares the LORD of hosts, according to the covenant that I made with you when you came out of Egypt. My Spirit remains in your midst. Fear not" (2.4f).
With the LORD of hosts' promise of being with his people to continue the temple rebuilding--a message given during the Feast's remembrance of the exodus--God calls his people back to Sinai. Exodus 25 - 40 is all about the design and construction of the tabernacle, where God would manifest his presence among his people on their pilgrimage through the desert. The account gives extreme attention to detail, pointing toward God's holiness and perfection.
Then comes the sordid affair with the golden calf (Ex 32). The proverbial shit hits the fan, Moses and God both get pissed, and the tabernacle construction account is halted--much like the people's failures to rebuilt the temple in Haggai 1. What, of all things, does Moses plead for? God's presence (33.12-16; 34.9). And Yahweh grants it and seals his promised presence with a covenant and the promise to do miraculous things through their hands (34.10). The tabernacle's work resumes under God's promised presence. In Haggai, despite the people's complacency and mis- (read: man-) directed priorities, God promises to be with them and stirs them up to build a glorious temple.
So why am I explaining all this? The temple is a place where God is to be worshiped by people who see the manifestation and representation of his holiness. It is where he dwells with his people and makes himself known, where he draws people to hope, healing, joy, and restoration. All of the directives given in Exodus point toward this. If the temple and God's workings were all about man, God could have simply destroyed Israel in the desert and wouldn't care. But they're not. They're about God and his pleasure in his kingdom, in being worshiped, in being known, in restoring the works of his hands (Hag 1.8). Therefore at Moses' request he grants mercy upon rebellious Israel and promises his presence and blessing in order to continue the temple work. The same goes for the building of Solomon's temple (1 Kings 8) and Zerubbabel's (Hag 1.13; 2.4f).
In other words, God's desire for worship and pleasure is the basis of his mercy. Because God is God-focused, he has mercy. This thread runs throughout Ezekiel. Let us rejoice! As surely as God is for his glory, he is merciful (Ex 33.18; 34.6f). Paul caught this as well: our salvation and blessing is not on account of us, but on account of "the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the beloved" (Eph 1.5f, NKJV). And so we can praise God that as surely as his desire is for his praise, so too can we be assured of his mercy and gracious blessings upon all who turn to him and seek him wholeheartedly.
On a related note, Haggai 2.1-9 teaches us to focus not on the present, but on the Presence. How often we are tempted to say, "Man, I wish _____ were like it was back then"! I am often tempted to despair when I look to my sin or lack of zeal for the Lord. Yet God calls us to focus not on the past nor our present weakness, but on the resources given us through his Spirit and confirmed to us through his Word. He promises his presence on account of his mercy, which has been displayed and accomplished once for all upon the cross and shown us in our baptism and the supper. As baptism shows us a physical washing, the Spirit confirms to us that our washing in Christ is just as certain. And as we partake in the bread and wine, the Spirit assures us that the new covenant in Christ's body and blood is just as real, bringing the promise that his Spirit is within and among us to bring us and the work of our hands to established glory (Ps 90.17; 2 Cor 1.21-22).
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
Need
I've got other things I'd love to write about, namely, some convicting and strengthening lessons from the messages God delivered through Haggai. But after looking at PostSecret, I want to cry at how much this dying, broken world needs Jesus. We are so fucked up, and the only cure is knowing the healing rivers of the depths of God's love. Please read it, cry, and pray. Thank God if these confessions aren't yours right now. If they are, know that God is waiting for you with open arms. Who knows, maybe you can even help someone else find rest in him with some kinds words or talking over a cup of tea on a rainy day...especially when every day is a rainy day for some people.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11.28-30)
(I make no apologies for saying "fucked up." It was what came to mind and is how I can express how dire our situation is apart from the rescuing Christ.)
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11.28-30)
(I make no apologies for saying "fucked up." It was what came to mind and is how I can express how dire our situation is apart from the rescuing Christ.)
Saturday, October 1, 2005
"If only we were like the NT church"
Ahh...I believe this may be the first of many posts concerning God's loving correction and reproof of me, calling me into Christlikeness is some currently unwelcome ways--or at least unwelcome according to my flesh.
In July I was warned that "when you go on STINT, all your dirty laundry comes out." It's about that time, folks. I'm a selfish, cynical prick whose main goal is to look out for Number One. I snap at my roommates for playing video games, I take offense at their suggestions on improving Bible study, and I hold total double-standards for cleanliness in this house. And yet we fight to be honest with one another, voice our concerns and irritations, and pray for one another to know Jesus and be healed by him. Who is this scraggly bunch of nitpicking, easily irked men? Is this, dare I say, the body of Christ?
If you would have asked me what my ideal of Christian fellowship is before living with four other believers my senior year at MSU, and then living with three believers this past year, and now living with four more in our apartment in Istanbul, you'd never get an answer that matches my experience. I want kumbayah and the fellowship of earthly saints; what I get instead is an amalgamation of really vocal slobs whose only sainthood is that of Christ in heaven. Let's admit it: Christian community is less "peace like a river" and more like, as Donald Miller calls it in Blue Like Jazz, "living with freaks" (yours truly included).*
A wise man named Dietrich once wrote on community and men like me: "The serious Christian, set down for the first [or, in my case, third] time in a Christian community, is likely to bring with him a very definite idea of what Christian life together should be and to try to realize it. But God's grace speedily shatters such dreams."** He goes on to say, "He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter". Ouch. But it's true; we aren't called to love our imagination or our emotions, but rather people chosen by God from before all worlds for assemblage into the family of his redeemed (Eph 1.4).
Brother- or sisterhood in the faith is not something that increases or grows as we know more of Christ and bear the fruits of his Spirit. As soon as my brother Jordan was born in 1984, we were brothers. He didn't progress into my brother; he was born and that was that. It wasn't my choice to have this poopy little kid who would suck my parents' attention away from me, but God placed us under the same roof. It's much the same with spiritual family. At the moment of our justification, we all were placed into the same body. Dietrich goes on: "Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate. The more clearly we learn to recognize that the ground and strength and promise of all our fellowship is in Jesus Christ alone, the more serenely shall we think of our fellowship and pray and hope for it."
On top of that, I must say I'm grateful that not only has God given to me four brothers in my everyday life, but also a wonderful new church here at the Union Church of Istanbul (a.k.a. Dutch Chapel).
* Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2003)
** Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, 1954)
In July I was warned that "when you go on STINT, all your dirty laundry comes out." It's about that time, folks. I'm a selfish, cynical prick whose main goal is to look out for Number One. I snap at my roommates for playing video games, I take offense at their suggestions on improving Bible study, and I hold total double-standards for cleanliness in this house. And yet we fight to be honest with one another, voice our concerns and irritations, and pray for one another to know Jesus and be healed by him. Who is this scraggly bunch of nitpicking, easily irked men? Is this, dare I say, the body of Christ?
If you would have asked me what my ideal of Christian fellowship is before living with four other believers my senior year at MSU, and then living with three believers this past year, and now living with four more in our apartment in Istanbul, you'd never get an answer that matches my experience. I want kumbayah and the fellowship of earthly saints; what I get instead is an amalgamation of really vocal slobs whose only sainthood is that of Christ in heaven. Let's admit it: Christian community is less "peace like a river" and more like, as Donald Miller calls it in Blue Like Jazz, "living with freaks" (yours truly included).*
A wise man named Dietrich once wrote on community and men like me: "The serious Christian, set down for the first [or, in my case, third] time in a Christian community, is likely to bring with him a very definite idea of what Christian life together should be and to try to realize it. But God's grace speedily shatters such dreams."** He goes on to say, "He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter". Ouch. But it's true; we aren't called to love our imagination or our emotions, but rather people chosen by God from before all worlds for assemblage into the family of his redeemed (Eph 1.4).
Brother- or sisterhood in the faith is not something that increases or grows as we know more of Christ and bear the fruits of his Spirit. As soon as my brother Jordan was born in 1984, we were brothers. He didn't progress into my brother; he was born and that was that. It wasn't my choice to have this poopy little kid who would suck my parents' attention away from me, but God placed us under the same roof. It's much the same with spiritual family. At the moment of our justification, we all were placed into the same body. Dietrich goes on: "Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate. The more clearly we learn to recognize that the ground and strength and promise of all our fellowship is in Jesus Christ alone, the more serenely shall we think of our fellowship and pray and hope for it."
On top of that, I must say I'm grateful that not only has God given to me four brothers in my everyday life, but also a wonderful new church here at the Union Church of Istanbul (a.k.a. Dutch Chapel).
* Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2003)
** Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, 1954)
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Not only for missionaries
I've been reading a very informative book called Honor and Shame*, written by Roland Muller, a missionary in Yemen and Jordan for about thirty years. It's about communicating the essence of the gospel in shame-based cultures. The cross of Christ has purchased more than just freedom from the guilt of our sin, but there Christ also bore our shame (Isa 53.3-4; Heb 13.12-13) and has lifted us up into God's honor as a child of his. We no longer need to cower away from him, as if our continuing sin makes us unfit as objects of his love and blessing.
Through this, I'm realizing how even we in the West need this gospel truth. Don't we so often want to run from God in fear and shame at our unworthiness to come into his presence? Yes, we are unworthy, but to still live that way is to make the cross null and void. We are elect in the Elect One, holy (already!) in the Holy One, adopted and joint-heirs in the Son, redeemed in the Redeemer, and loved in the Beloved (Eph 1.3-14). What reason have we to run from God and join in the songs of his people? None! Of course Satan will tempt us to despair and want us to hide from God and feel bad about ourselves--this keeps our eyes off of Jesus and his sufficiency.
"Almost all [Arabs] agree that someone can honor you but you cannot honor yourself. However, people with honor seldom honor others without cause.
"This is where we must be bold in proclaiming the gospel. The gospel that Jesus brought, is simply this: God wants to lift man from a position of shame to a position of honor. When Jesus said, 'I am the way,' this is what he was referring to. Jesus is the only one who can bring us into the presence of God the Father. This is why Jesus had to be God. No one else would do. Only God could reach down to mankind [and lift us from our shame into his honor]" (pp. 98-99). What a beautiful truth! (Muller does write further that what he means is that this is the essence of the gospel for the Eastern world, or a starting point perhaps, from which we can work toward the fuller picture of Christ's redemption from guilt, fear, and shame.)
Muller also writes: "It was not by mere chance that Jesus was born into a stable in Bethlehem, and that his death on the cross took place in the city of Jerusalem. The cross of Christ stands firmly at the crossroads of history. To the west are the guilt-based cultures of the world. To the south are the fear-based cultures, and to the east are the shame-based cultures.** And in the midst of all of them, the cross of Christ stands as a strong, bold message of peace on earth and good will to all mankind" (p. 110).
[And for Ryan: I do not deny in the least that our sanctification is accomplished by the imputed righteousness of Christ. In heaven it is a finished deal, signed, sealed, and delivered. But God in his grace works within us as well even now to lead us into following our Shepherd (Php 2.13; Heb 13.20-21). The good transformation is not from us, but all of God, and therefore inseparable from his graces and redemptive work through the Spirit purchased by the blood of the cross. What a blessing it is that God works to cleanse us even now and purify our faculties so that we can apprehend small glimpses of him even now while on earth!]
*Roland Muller, Honor and Shame: Unlocking the Door (Xlibris Corporation, 2000).
** Keep in mind that many cultures don't operate strictly within one of these worldviews, but often have aspects of two or all three. The Semitic (Abrahamic) peoples of the Near and Middle East have largely been in shame-based cultures since OT times, including first-century Palestine.
Through this, I'm realizing how even we in the West need this gospel truth. Don't we so often want to run from God in fear and shame at our unworthiness to come into his presence? Yes, we are unworthy, but to still live that way is to make the cross null and void. We are elect in the Elect One, holy (already!) in the Holy One, adopted and joint-heirs in the Son, redeemed in the Redeemer, and loved in the Beloved (Eph 1.3-14). What reason have we to run from God and join in the songs of his people? None! Of course Satan will tempt us to despair and want us to hide from God and feel bad about ourselves--this keeps our eyes off of Jesus and his sufficiency.
"Almost all [Arabs] agree that someone can honor you but you cannot honor yourself. However, people with honor seldom honor others without cause.
"This is where we must be bold in proclaiming the gospel. The gospel that Jesus brought, is simply this: God wants to lift man from a position of shame to a position of honor. When Jesus said, 'I am the way,' this is what he was referring to. Jesus is the only one who can bring us into the presence of God the Father. This is why Jesus had to be God. No one else would do. Only God could reach down to mankind [and lift us from our shame into his honor]" (pp. 98-99). What a beautiful truth! (Muller does write further that what he means is that this is the essence of the gospel for the Eastern world, or a starting point perhaps, from which we can work toward the fuller picture of Christ's redemption from guilt, fear, and shame.)
Muller also writes: "It was not by mere chance that Jesus was born into a stable in Bethlehem, and that his death on the cross took place in the city of Jerusalem. The cross of Christ stands firmly at the crossroads of history. To the west are the guilt-based cultures of the world. To the south are the fear-based cultures, and to the east are the shame-based cultures.** And in the midst of all of them, the cross of Christ stands as a strong, bold message of peace on earth and good will to all mankind" (p. 110).
[And for Ryan: I do not deny in the least that our sanctification is accomplished by the imputed righteousness of Christ. In heaven it is a finished deal, signed, sealed, and delivered. But God in his grace works within us as well even now to lead us into following our Shepherd (Php 2.13; Heb 13.20-21). The good transformation is not from us, but all of God, and therefore inseparable from his graces and redemptive work through the Spirit purchased by the blood of the cross. What a blessing it is that God works to cleanse us even now and purify our faculties so that we can apprehend small glimpses of him even now while on earth!]
*Roland Muller, Honor and Shame: Unlocking the Door (Xlibris Corporation, 2000).
** Keep in mind that many cultures don't operate strictly within one of these worldviews, but often have aspects of two or all three. The Semitic (Abrahamic) peoples of the Near and Middle East have largely been in shame-based cultures since OT times, including first-century Palestine.
Friday, September 16, 2005
A lesson from tree swallows
It's funny how God can take opportunities in which I'm supposed to be ministering to someone else and instead turn them around to minister to my own needs and to teach me. I've been reading a book called Honor and Shame, which is about communicating the gospel message from a shame-based worldview. (In the Western world, which was largely influenced by Roman law and Plato's The Republic, we operate from a strongly guilt-based worldview, which is why we find so much connection to Paul's letter to the Roman believers.) In one chapter the author writes about the greater whole of the gospel beyond merely legal redemption and removal of guilt, including how in Christ God moves us from a state of failure to that of completion.
I've become keenly aware of how strongly my sinful nature is still active, and how I allow myself to dance like an idiot at its every beck and call. To think that I not only will be perfected and made whole, but that it's currently happening within me, is hard for me to see right now. Yet it's true: "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Php 1.6 NIV). The healing Breath of God won't merely make us whole at the final day, but he's doing it even now, carrying us on until the day Jesus appears in glory to judge the living and the dead.*
My mind quickly went to Romans 5.12—6.23, telling the glory of how the second Adam brings abundant life beyond all the death that my sin can muster and how it frees me to live in true freedom that honors God, the freedom of living in the way we humans were created to live. In his book Run With the Horses, Eugene Peterson writes about a young bird learning to fly. The bird refuses to take the risk of leaving what he's used to, namely, the nest in which he's spent his whole life so far. But the parent bird persistently pecked at its desperately clinging talons until it was more painful to hang onto the branch than to risk flying. The parent knew what the chick did not: that there was no danger, but only joy, in making its child do what it was designed to do. "Birds have feet and can walk. Birds have talons and can grasp a branch securely. They can walk; they can cling. But flying is their characteristic action, and not until they fly are they living at their best, gracefully and beautifully" (pp. 42-43).
Baby birds will eventually outgrow their nests and starve without leaving their old, comfortable ways. They will die. So it is with us. "You can readily recall, can't you, how at one time the more you did just what you felt like doing—not caring about others, not caring about God—the worse your life became and the less freedom you had? And how much different is it now as your live in God's freedom, your lives healed and expansive in holiness? As long as you did what you felt like doing, ignoring God, you didn't have to bother with right thinking or right living, or right anything, for that matter. But do you call that a free life? What did you get out of it? Nothing you're proud of now. Where did it get you? A dead end" (Rom 6.19-21, The Message).
*I know that the ESV says "at the day" instead of "until the day", but most translations, including the NIV and NASB, render the latter. While this verse is difficult to interpret and likely a reference to final salvation, with its eschatological focus, earthly sanctification is inseparable from final salvation (cf. 2 Thess 2.13).
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Moda gunler iki (Day two in Moda)
Ahh, day two of our apartment adventures in Moda. After sleeping in until 11:00, we got lunch with the girls at a restaurant near the Bosphorus. Et doner pide, a shaved lamb sandwich with potato salad ("American salad") and French fries—not as side dishes, but on the sandwich—was most of our lunch of choice, accompanied by Fanta. Much of the day's remainder was comprised of purchasing items for our apartment. From now on, I will refer to the apartment as our house, because that's what everyone calls them here, because no one owns separate homes in this city.
Some things of note: (1) Because it's not really safe for us as foreigners to drink the local tap water, we have to pay for a water service, where large jugs of water are brought to our house. It's cheap: $3.75 for two 15-gallon jugs plus delivery. (2) Carrefour. This is a like a French version of a Super Walmart here in Kadiköy. It was great because we were able to speak almost no Turkish and yet purchase everything we needed for our apartment. (3) The Rice
Monday, September 12, 2005
Moda hos geldiniz! (Welcome to Moda)
I have surfaced! Yes, folks, I am alive and well and living in Moda, Kadiköy, İstanbul. Well, today was an adventure: we moved out of the Taşlık Hotel this afternoon and into our apartments in Moda, Kadiköy. After taking a bus 45 minutes across the beautiful Bosphorus from Beşiktaş to Kadiköy, the driver refused to take us right to our apartments because he didn't want to block traffic for ten minutes while unloading our mountains of luggage. So we unloaded near a fountain in Moda and had to carry our luggage in waves to the four different apartments.
This brings me not to my first, but certainly my least favorable, experience with the "spirals of death", that is, Turkish staircases. Because of the incredibly space-starved nature of the sprawling megalopolis of İstanbul, staircases must occupy as little space as possible and thus take on a tight corkscrew configuration. The problem this creates is that near the center of the spiral the stairs are as little as two inches deep, leaving absolutely no space for your feet. Enter the five of us guys, carrying multiple fifty-pound suitcases up five flights of such stairs for multiple apartments. Oh, joy—not!
After hauling all our luggage up to our the fifth floor atop our landing-less staircase, we pulled out the keys to our new apartment, Pınar. After five minutes of frustrated attempts, we hit the sad realization that neither of our keys even remotely fit the keyhole. A series of phone calls in broken Turkish informed us that the butcher across the street had a key. What on earth?! But, hey, we got in and were mildly pleased to discover a rather large, Victorian America-themed apartment, replete with smoked-glass table lamps, a large buffet, and lace doilies. (They have all been since hidden or pitched, as they don't complement the 1960s plush yellow couches or our desired décor. See #3 below.) We also were greeted by a cruel experiment of Mother Nature: a deranged jackalope with walrus tusks and black wings.
Other joys of our apartment, which is actually the nicest of all STINT apartments: (1) We have a dishwasher!—but no oven. Can you believe that? And our fridge is little more than a glorified version of what many of us had in our college dorm rooms. (2) None of the lamps work, and there are no sheets or pillows. We had to remedy this at 23:00. (3) We have an inflatable moose head to adorn the walls of our hunting den. (4) Our balcony came with the gift of a four-foot-tall birdcage, which would make a perfect home for the jackalope. However, it instead contains two dead birds. Hmm…I can smell a prank coming on in one of the women's apartments.
Okay, this isn't apartment-related, but I'm really irked that getting change here is next to impossible. I've already been denied the ability to purchase a 2.00 YTL beverage because I only had a 10- or 20 YTL note. For this reason, believe it or not, a 5 YTL note is worth nearly as much as a 20 YTL note, because it's actually usable for most everyday purchases. Oh, well, at least inflation is finally in single digits, and some miracle of economic reform has brought about the Yeni Türk Lirası (YTL), the New Turkish Lira. This eliminated the old pricing system which, thanks to inflation, had an exchange rate of 1.5 million lira to the U.S. dollar!
The long day has finally come to an end. What adventures will tomorrow hold as we inventory what we need for our apartment, which is pretty much everything imaginable? We'll also need to move a full-size bed out of our apartment and move some desks and a bunk bed into it. Keep in mind that we have to carry all of this stuff a ten-minute walk down the packed streets of Kadiköy. But God is with us at every moment, and we're laughing together with him through this all. Remember, "It's not bad; it's just different!"
Tuesday, September 6, 2005
A revealing Saturday
I am a prideful man. While I was at MSU, the Spirit (the Holy one, not Johnny) showed me this in several ways:
(1) First of all, while I was talking with one Ryan Hover about our summers, somehow we ended up on the topic of regeneration, namely, does it effect faith, or does faith effect it? Naturally, after spending two years reading Piper, Edwards, Owen, Luther, and others, there was no question: rebirth by the Holy Spirit precedes and effects repentance and faith. But after a lengthy conversation about this, I learned that, while I still hold my position, I am (a) very self-assured that I know it all and cannot possibly be wrong, and (b) that I really don't know the Bible as well as I thought I did.
In a similar vein, I found myself quite openly critical of Rob Bell's new book, Velvet Elvis. (No, I don't know where the title comes from, either.) From the little I've read--and that's the problem, I just skimmed it and made some rather incisive remarks--he is fairly wacked in his theology at some points. (Sorry, Rob. You're not Jesus nor a reformer a la Martin Luther, and Jesus is indeed making exclusive statements of himself in John 8.24 and 14.6 that have reference to eternal destinies, not just "unlocking deeper realities.") But once again I saw that I think I know it all and that I can confidently pass judgment on something or someone without actually knowing a whole lot about my own convictions nor those that seemingly stand contrary to mine.
(2) Instead of humbly accepting that I deserved the $30 ticket for parking in a one-hour zone for fourteen hours, I got really ticked off and vowed to never pay the ticket. How could I possibly deserve a ticket? Romans 13.1-7, anyone?
(3) I went back to Riverview, the church I had attended for two years while at MSU. I have openly criticized this church for trying too hard to be catchy and attractive through coffee, rock music, and entertaining sermons. Some of that may hold true. But after hearing Noel, a pastor there, speak on the parable of the shrewd manager recorded in Luke 16.1-13, my views began to change. What I saw as a cowardly, worldly way of enticing people to come to their church is actually their honest efforts at being shrewd and wise in the way they manage the resources entrusted to them. I don't agree with everything they're doing, but what I learned is that they're not out to be catchy; they're out to bring people to Jesus Christ. Just because someone's philosophy isn't mine doesn't automatically make it wrong. I thought I had this church thing all figured out. Guess again.
(4) The night wrapped up with a long talk with some of the men whom I love. In the process, I came to the realization that in this life, the fact is that people are going to come and go in and out of our lives. Mike's in Texas. Cassie's in Washington. Ryan's in Thailand. Greg's married and in seminary. Erin's in GR. I'm in Asia Minor. Things on Earth don't stay the same, so what am I to do? I absolutely dread being lonely; it's one of my greatest fears and tempts me often to pity myself rather than to do something about it. It struck me that because a given person may only be directly in my life for a period of months or years, the question I should ask myself each day is, How can I bless this person so that he will be better off for having had me in his life?
As soon as this clicked in my head, I said this to everyone--and promptly realized that what I said I should be thinking and doing is the furthest thing from what actually happens in my life. Instead, I get upset when people don't make an effort to seek me out and care about me. Then I just get grumpy and spiteful or mopey and despairing, neither of which are honoring to God's omnipresence and call to give myself away. "If anyone is thirsty . . . out of his innermost being will flow . . ."
By the way, after a series of awesome sermons on the "I am" statements of Jesus, it's really cool to see how Jesus uses the Feast of Tabernacles to illustrate that all things Israel celebrated about Yahweh in the feast (Exodus 13 - 17), in actuality, find their truest essence in him.
(1) First of all, while I was talking with one Ryan Hover about our summers, somehow we ended up on the topic of regeneration, namely, does it effect faith, or does faith effect it? Naturally, after spending two years reading Piper, Edwards, Owen, Luther, and others, there was no question: rebirth by the Holy Spirit precedes and effects repentance and faith. But after a lengthy conversation about this, I learned that, while I still hold my position, I am (a) very self-assured that I know it all and cannot possibly be wrong, and (b) that I really don't know the Bible as well as I thought I did.
In a similar vein, I found myself quite openly critical of Rob Bell's new book, Velvet Elvis. (No, I don't know where the title comes from, either.) From the little I've read--and that's the problem, I just skimmed it and made some rather incisive remarks--he is fairly wacked in his theology at some points. (Sorry, Rob. You're not Jesus nor a reformer a la Martin Luther, and Jesus is indeed making exclusive statements of himself in John 8.24 and 14.6 that have reference to eternal destinies, not just "unlocking deeper realities.") But once again I saw that I think I know it all and that I can confidently pass judgment on something or someone without actually knowing a whole lot about my own convictions nor those that seemingly stand contrary to mine.
(2) Instead of humbly accepting that I deserved the $30 ticket for parking in a one-hour zone for fourteen hours, I got really ticked off and vowed to never pay the ticket. How could I possibly deserve a ticket? Romans 13.1-7, anyone?
(3) I went back to Riverview, the church I had attended for two years while at MSU. I have openly criticized this church for trying too hard to be catchy and attractive through coffee, rock music, and entertaining sermons. Some of that may hold true. But after hearing Noel, a pastor there, speak on the parable of the shrewd manager recorded in Luke 16.1-13, my views began to change. What I saw as a cowardly, worldly way of enticing people to come to their church is actually their honest efforts at being shrewd and wise in the way they manage the resources entrusted to them. I don't agree with everything they're doing, but what I learned is that they're not out to be catchy; they're out to bring people to Jesus Christ. Just because someone's philosophy isn't mine doesn't automatically make it wrong. I thought I had this church thing all figured out. Guess again.
(4) The night wrapped up with a long talk with some of the men whom I love. In the process, I came to the realization that in this life, the fact is that people are going to come and go in and out of our lives. Mike's in Texas. Cassie's in Washington. Ryan's in Thailand. Greg's married and in seminary. Erin's in GR. I'm in Asia Minor. Things on Earth don't stay the same, so what am I to do? I absolutely dread being lonely; it's one of my greatest fears and tempts me often to pity myself rather than to do something about it. It struck me that because a given person may only be directly in my life for a period of months or years, the question I should ask myself each day is, How can I bless this person so that he will be better off for having had me in his life?
As soon as this clicked in my head, I said this to everyone--and promptly realized that what I said I should be thinking and doing is the furthest thing from what actually happens in my life. Instead, I get upset when people don't make an effort to seek me out and care about me. Then I just get grumpy and spiteful or mopey and despairing, neither of which are honoring to God's omnipresence and call to give myself away. "If anyone is thirsty . . . out of his innermost being will flow . . ."
By the way, after a series of awesome sermons on the "I am" statements of Jesus, it's really cool to see how Jesus uses the Feast of Tabernacles to illustrate that all things Israel celebrated about Yahweh in the feast (Exodus 13 - 17), in actuality, find their truest essence in him.
Friday, September 2, 2005
Of irony and woven carpets
As I knelt last night to pray while listening to musical Sufi prayers* (Sufi is a mystical branch of Islam; you may be familiar with the dancing trance-prayers of the whirling dervishes), I felt burdened by two things: (1) the eerie supernatural aura created by these prayers, giving a very apparent (but not true) sense of the divine presence; (2) the incredible power wielded against the kingdom of God through Islam in the country to which I'll be moving in one week.
The music is stunningly beautiful, but I had to shut it off and remind myself that Jesus Christ is the road, the reality, and the life. He is preeminent, and he alone is God. It was discomforting to realize how even I, a Christian, felt drawn by the music to some false ideal. There are so many things in this world that offer cheap and enticing imitations of the true God but are only husks and ashes. The divine is not found in a trance, in incense, or in beautiful icons; instead it wore sandals and ate dates and was left to hang on a tree on a barren hillside in view of the supposed entrance to Hades, the netherworld. Our flesh will always flee from this.
I recall the haunting eeriness of the first time I heard the confession and call to prayer: "Allah is most great. There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is his prophet." I got to walk among the "city of a thousand mosques" and stand next to tombs of men who lived and died in opposition to the deity of Jesus Christ. It made me nauseous with that feeling you get when you're all alone in the house and you think someone is watching you. Satan is real, my friends.
Yet I find a comfort in God's omnipresence and complete sovereignty, even in the Near East. As the Dutch theologian Abraham Kuyper once said, "In the total expanse of human life there is not a single square inch of which the Christ, who alone is sovereign, does not declare, 'That is mine!'" Even in the face of a history of God-belittling lies promoted through men named Kemal, Suleyman, and Beyazit, God is at work to redeem and protect his people for the sake of his great name. Take, for example, Mao Ze Dong. He earnestly believed that through communism, man had the power to create a true utopia on earth, free of the aid or necessity of any presumed deity. Patrick Johnstone of Operation World once remarked, "Mao Ze Dong was utterly opposed to all religions, and built a cult around his own personality. What an unlikely man to become the person who, by his actions, has possibly contributed to more people coming into the kingdom [of God] than any other person in all of history!"
Believe it or not, indirectly, without the spread of Islam into northern Africa, we would not have had the Reformation. (For the reason why, e-mail me at drew@aderes.net and I can send you a sermon explaining it.) God, I thank you and am encouraged that even in the Near East, you have set up history, religion, geography, and culture exactly so that men and women can seek you and reach out and find you, though you are not far from anyone (Acts 17.26-27).
*To download some mind-blowing Sufi electronica, check out Mercan Dede (pronounced mair-jon day-day) at www.mercandede.com. Click on "media" and then "music."
The music is stunningly beautiful, but I had to shut it off and remind myself that Jesus Christ is the road, the reality, and the life. He is preeminent, and he alone is God. It was discomforting to realize how even I, a Christian, felt drawn by the music to some false ideal. There are so many things in this world that offer cheap and enticing imitations of the true God but are only husks and ashes. The divine is not found in a trance, in incense, or in beautiful icons; instead it wore sandals and ate dates and was left to hang on a tree on a barren hillside in view of the supposed entrance to Hades, the netherworld. Our flesh will always flee from this.
I recall the haunting eeriness of the first time I heard the confession and call to prayer: "Allah is most great. There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is his prophet." I got to walk among the "city of a thousand mosques" and stand next to tombs of men who lived and died in opposition to the deity of Jesus Christ. It made me nauseous with that feeling you get when you're all alone in the house and you think someone is watching you. Satan is real, my friends.
Yet I find a comfort in God's omnipresence and complete sovereignty, even in the Near East. As the Dutch theologian Abraham Kuyper once said, "In the total expanse of human life there is not a single square inch of which the Christ, who alone is sovereign, does not declare, 'That is mine!'" Even in the face of a history of God-belittling lies promoted through men named Kemal, Suleyman, and Beyazit, God is at work to redeem and protect his people for the sake of his great name. Take, for example, Mao Ze Dong. He earnestly believed that through communism, man had the power to create a true utopia on earth, free of the aid or necessity of any presumed deity. Patrick Johnstone of Operation World once remarked, "Mao Ze Dong was utterly opposed to all religions, and built a cult around his own personality. What an unlikely man to become the person who, by his actions, has possibly contributed to more people coming into the kingdom [of God] than any other person in all of history!"
Believe it or not, indirectly, without the spread of Islam into northern Africa, we would not have had the Reformation. (For the reason why, e-mail me at drew@aderes.net and I can send you a sermon explaining it.) God, I thank you and am encouraged that even in the Near East, you have set up history, religion, geography, and culture exactly so that men and women can seek you and reach out and find you, though you are not far from anyone (Acts 17.26-27).
*To download some mind-blowing Sufi electronica, check out Mercan Dede (pronounced mair-jon day-day) at www.mercandede.com. Click on "media" and then "music."
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Be the seed...
I can almost hear some coach chanting to his athletes before the big game: "Be the seed. Be the seed." Well, maybe not. This morning while at the gorgeous Keystone resort in Colorado, Keith Bubalo shared his thoughts on 2 Corinthians 4.4-12. In a time of prayer and reflection afterward, the Wind of God directed me to these words of Jesus recorded in John 12.23-33:
"The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.
"Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." . . .
"Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself."
Jesus said that it was his death that cast down Satan (see also Rev 12.9; 20.1-3 if you're an amillenialist like me) and would draw all people to himself. And as his servants and followers whose goal is to live for and continue his purposes, we also are to carry around in our bodies the death of Jesus, in order that his life may be manifested within us (2 Cor 4.10-12).
Jesus teaches here that bearing fruit for God is contingent upon "death". A few days later after celebrating the Sedir he said, "By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. . . . These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full" (John 15.8-11). In other words, it is by our dying that we glorify our Father. Willingly surrendering all rights to our selfish comfort, ease, and painlessness is necessary, for our weakness allows God to display his power through us so that there's no fooling anyone as to our source of strength and competence.*
But Jesus says all of this out of love for all of his followers: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you". What did his Father's love look like? God's love sent his only Son through suffering, blows, lacerations, nails, mocking, and asphyxiation--but ultimately to the place of incomparable blessing, joy, and adoration at his right hand (Heb 1.8-9; 12.2). It was truly through the cross that the Son of Man was glorified (John 12.23). It is always his love that motivates Jesus to call us to the cross and to denial of our selves and the worldly desires that would otherwise be fully legit if the Resurrection weren't true (see Mark 10.21).
But by God's power Jesus did triumph over the grave and is reigning from heaven (Eph 1.19-23). In our dying he calls us to join him in these same unblushing rewards as he received. "Where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him." We will be with him at home forever, accepted, approved, and beloved in him by our holy Creator and Sovereign, who calls out the stars by name and is storing up great wrath to crush the skulls of those who set themselves up against his reign (Rev 6.15-17).
Jesu, may we know and believe that in his love your Father didn't spare you the cup of suffering on your path toward joy's eternal increase. With that very same love you call us to die to ourselves and share in your pains and sacrifices for the gospel and bringing all men to yourself. We must know and feel the unsearchable riches of your hesed, your loyal covenant love that surpasses all comprehension (Eph 3.8,16-19). And may our hearts' experience of it compel us to be fools for your sake in bringing the gospel to the people of Turkey, Bangkok, Michigan, or wherever else you've called us, with boldness and clarity. Amen!
*On a side note, another insight I gained from 2 Cor 4.5-7 this morning is that it is not we who have adequacy or effectiveness, but our message does! For it is the power of God for salvation for all peoples, bringing the truth of God as seen in the crucified and risen Christ Jesus.
"The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.
"Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." . . .
"Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself."
Jesus said that it was his death that cast down Satan (see also Rev 12.9; 20.1-3 if you're an amillenialist like me) and would draw all people to himself. And as his servants and followers whose goal is to live for and continue his purposes, we also are to carry around in our bodies the death of Jesus, in order that his life may be manifested within us (2 Cor 4.10-12).
Jesus teaches here that bearing fruit for God is contingent upon "death". A few days later after celebrating the Sedir he said, "By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. . . . These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full" (John 15.8-11). In other words, it is by our dying that we glorify our Father. Willingly surrendering all rights to our selfish comfort, ease, and painlessness is necessary, for our weakness allows God to display his power through us so that there's no fooling anyone as to our source of strength and competence.*
But Jesus says all of this out of love for all of his followers: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you". What did his Father's love look like? God's love sent his only Son through suffering, blows, lacerations, nails, mocking, and asphyxiation--but ultimately to the place of incomparable blessing, joy, and adoration at his right hand (Heb 1.8-9; 12.2). It was truly through the cross that the Son of Man was glorified (John 12.23). It is always his love that motivates Jesus to call us to the cross and to denial of our selves and the worldly desires that would otherwise be fully legit if the Resurrection weren't true (see Mark 10.21).
But by God's power Jesus did triumph over the grave and is reigning from heaven (Eph 1.19-23). In our dying he calls us to join him in these same unblushing rewards as he received. "Where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him." We will be with him at home forever, accepted, approved, and beloved in him by our holy Creator and Sovereign, who calls out the stars by name and is storing up great wrath to crush the skulls of those who set themselves up against his reign (Rev 6.15-17).
Jesu, may we know and believe that in his love your Father didn't spare you the cup of suffering on your path toward joy's eternal increase. With that very same love you call us to die to ourselves and share in your pains and sacrifices for the gospel and bringing all men to yourself. We must know and feel the unsearchable riches of your hesed, your loyal covenant love that surpasses all comprehension (Eph 3.8,16-19). And may our hearts' experience of it compel us to be fools for your sake in bringing the gospel to the people of Turkey, Bangkok, Michigan, or wherever else you've called us, with boldness and clarity. Amen!
*On a side note, another insight I gained from 2 Cor 4.5-7 this morning is that it is not we who have adequacy or effectiveness, but our message does! For it is the power of God for salvation for all peoples, bringing the truth of God as seen in the crucified and risen Christ Jesus.
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
Definitely not a theological post -- but whatever
I've never been in the mindset that we should only listen to "Christian" CD's. Frankly, I've never been much for the CCM scene. Prompted by R. T., here are the top discs in my collection:
The Beatles, Abbey Road - I don't know if this qualifies as a theme album, but it just fits. It's incredibly innovative, with the final several songs all blending together into one long track.
The Smashing Pumpkins, Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness - The Victorian artwork fits this double album perfectly. There is more summertime sweetness, more raw vocals, more textured guitars on this album than any other. A beautiful work. Their previous work, Siamese Dream, is close behind.
Anathallo, Holiday at the Sea EP and Sparrows - No one, and I mean no one, tops Anathallo (Greek for "renewal"). Guitar, xylophone, drums galore, clapping, horns, piano, and even scissors and chains--ya just can't ask for more. Only you do get more, like tremendous builds and crescendoes, songs in Japanese, and perceptive my-deceptive-heart-is-cut-open-and-my-sin-is-bleeding-out-so-I-surrender lyrics make these guys the best. Their live shows must be witnessed. Props to having lyrics based upon the greatest essay of all time, C. S. Lewis' The Weight of Glory. These guys know the Old Testament.
Radiohead, OK Computer - This is when they made it out of their already-good Brit rock days and into the bigtime with their innovate, post-apocalyptic tones.
Dispatch, Silent Steeples and Who Are We Living For? - These New Englanders redefine musical talent. Beautiful harmonies, rich hand percussion, and haunting lyrics make these two the most listened-to discs in my collection. Pick the former for their older, acoustic sound, and the latter for something electrified.
Guster, Goldfly - Forget Pedro the Lion; these are the guys who first took downcast lyrics and merged them with upbeat, poppy music. Songs about consciously manipulating others and the like create an odd lyrical content that makes up the Somerville, Mass., trio's first two discs. Plus Brian "Thundergod" Rosenworcel is the best hand percussionist around, hands-down.
Jars of Clay, Who We Are Instead - I would've said their self-titled debut was their best, but there is a something about their fifth studio album that leaves me in tears. Dan Haseltine sings from the perspective--an honest and personal one, from what I believe--of a man who's seen his sin, lived low in it, but has found hope in the faithfulness and bloody grace of his Savior. "Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet" cannot help but move someone -- it was based on an audio recording they heard of a homeless man singing this simple line to himself for hours as he fell asleep on the streets. This disc echoes of Johnny Cash. Their second LP, Much Afraid, is well worth a listen if you want to be broken of your sin and be left weeping before God.
Honorable mention: Pearl Jam, Vitalogy; Weezer, Weezer (blue album); R. E. M., Document; U2, The Best of 1980-1990; Blue Merle, Blue Merle; anything by Dan Tyminski.
The Beatles, Abbey Road - I don't know if this qualifies as a theme album, but it just fits. It's incredibly innovative, with the final several songs all blending together into one long track.
The Smashing Pumpkins, Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness - The Victorian artwork fits this double album perfectly. There is more summertime sweetness, more raw vocals, more textured guitars on this album than any other. A beautiful work. Their previous work, Siamese Dream, is close behind.
Anathallo, Holiday at the Sea EP and Sparrows - No one, and I mean no one, tops Anathallo (Greek for "renewal"). Guitar, xylophone, drums galore, clapping, horns, piano, and even scissors and chains--ya just can't ask for more. Only you do get more, like tremendous builds and crescendoes, songs in Japanese, and perceptive my-deceptive-heart-is-cut-open-and-my-sin-is-bleeding-out-so-I-surrender lyrics make these guys the best. Their live shows must be witnessed. Props to having lyrics based upon the greatest essay of all time, C. S. Lewis' The Weight of Glory. These guys know the Old Testament.
Radiohead, OK Computer - This is when they made it out of their already-good Brit rock days and into the bigtime with their innovate, post-apocalyptic tones.
Dispatch, Silent Steeples and Who Are We Living For? - These New Englanders redefine musical talent. Beautiful harmonies, rich hand percussion, and haunting lyrics make these two the most listened-to discs in my collection. Pick the former for their older, acoustic sound, and the latter for something electrified.
Guster, Goldfly - Forget Pedro the Lion; these are the guys who first took downcast lyrics and merged them with upbeat, poppy music. Songs about consciously manipulating others and the like create an odd lyrical content that makes up the Somerville, Mass., trio's first two discs. Plus Brian "Thundergod" Rosenworcel is the best hand percussionist around, hands-down.
Jars of Clay, Who We Are Instead - I would've said their self-titled debut was their best, but there is a something about their fifth studio album that leaves me in tears. Dan Haseltine sings from the perspective--an honest and personal one, from what I believe--of a man who's seen his sin, lived low in it, but has found hope in the faithfulness and bloody grace of his Savior. "Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet" cannot help but move someone -- it was based on an audio recording they heard of a homeless man singing this simple line to himself for hours as he fell asleep on the streets. This disc echoes of Johnny Cash. Their second LP, Much Afraid, is well worth a listen if you want to be broken of your sin and be left weeping before God.
Honorable mention: Pearl Jam, Vitalogy; Weezer, Weezer (blue album); R. E. M., Document; U2, The Best of 1980-1990; Blue Merle, Blue Merle; anything by Dan Tyminski.
Saturday, August 6, 2005
Monergism I: The human condition
Okay, as promised, here's my first installment into the biblical truth known as monergism, that is, the fact that salvation is 100% God's decision and work, and we have no part of it. I will not argue that the word "grace" means that we are blessed apart from meeting some set of conditions. Indeed, Scripture says there is a condition that must be met for salvation: belief in the gospel. But just because there are terms involved does not mean that the recipient deserves the blessing he is receiving. With that said, hear me out…
Watch any of today's popular movies, and what's a main theme? Isn't it that, in the end, despite some evil character's ploys and schemes, the inherent good of man triumphs and wins the day. Pick a movie--Armageddon, Braveheart, Happy Gilmore--somehow a person is able to dig within himself and pull out a measure of altruism or self-sacrifice or golf skill and save the world. We want earnestly to believe in, though often hidden, the goodness of mankind. Call me a pessimist, a skeptic, or what you will, but I don't buy it one bit.
What we really need are more books that expose true human nature, such as William Golding's Lord of the Flies. This novel exposes what happens when people are left to themselves rather than being subject to social law's restraints: young boys riot, insult each other, and finally slaughter their friends.
Enter many of today's megachurches and sit through a sermon or praise songs, and some things might strike you as they did me: the sermons are mostly based on self-help or self-betterment or how to live more holy. Not only is this a bastardization of the gospel of grace, but there's often an underlying current of how we're really able to make these things happen. We want earnestly to buy that we aren't so bad, so we fill bestseller lists with fecal pop psychology that says "You can do it!" Jesus becomes only a teacher on how to live well rather than also a prophet of divine fury (Luke 19.41-44) and the One who makes the dead come to life.
"Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sins is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed" (John 8.34-36). The first thing we simply must know in order to get the gospel right--and all of life and eternity beyond--is that we are by nature slaves to sin, period. Part of the Fall of man was that all humans have inherited a corrupt nature (Rom 5.18), Mother Theresa and Mohandes Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., included.
This therefore renders us not only evil in heart—just look at Gen 6.5—but also unable to desire and choose God. The whole question over whether or not we can choose God by free will is moot; how can one's will be "free" while a "slave" to sin and corruption? Let me briefly cover a few texts that back this up more fully:
Romans 8.7-8: "The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God." Here Paul is speaking of flesh (sarx; NIV "sinful nature") as our existence and way of living apart from the Holy Spirit. Without the Spirit of God, we are hostile and unsubmissive to God. Man in this state is not just rebellious; he wants mutiny! He is hostile to God (see also Rom 1.30; Col 1.21).
Moreover, he cannot possibly have saving faith in this state. Why, do you ask? I've got two reasons. (1) Fulfilling God's true law has always required faith and a God-honoring spirit (Rom 3.27; 4.1-12). How can someone do this when he is hostile and unsubmissive to God? No, he cannot, for "the mind that is set on the flesh…does not submit to God's law." In other words, it cannot have faith. (2) The writer of the letter to the Hebrews (Apollos?) instructs us that without faith it is impossible to please God (11.6). In other words, the only way to please God is through faith. Pleasing God once again presupposes faith, yet those in the flesh not only do not, but cannot please God. If you have faith, maybe you don't always please God, but you are able. But "those who are in the flesh cannot please God."
Ephesians 2.1-3: "And you were dead in your trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind." Here is the complete fallenness of all of mankind, every man, woman, and child. All of mankind, by nature (apart from the Holy Spirit), walks in transgression (not merely unknowing error, but deliberate crossing of God's boundaries). To emphasize the universality of this, note that Paul says that Satan (the "prince") is of the air: he is everywhere. "We all once lived in the passions of our flesh"—no one is exempt.
In the middle ages many philosopher used to have humans divided into two separate faculties, the body and the mind. "We may succumb to bodily appetites such as disordered sexual lusts, laziness, overeating, covetousness, greed, and so forth," they would say, but they believed their reasoning and ability to grasp true goodness with their minds lay intact. However, note that both the desires of the body and mind are associated with evil and are separate from God's Spirit. Even the reasoning and ability to appropriate and embrace truth is corrupt in natural man (see Eph 4.17-24!). Clearly the mind of natural man is unable to understand the proper weight and gravity of our sinfulness and the weight and gravity of the person of Jesus Christ. Our mental abilities ("the mind set on the flesh"; Rom 8.7) are even so enslaved to the lies of Satan that we have all failed to perceive God's communication to us through his created works (Rom 1.19-20). Does this leave us an excuse? No! It only furthers condemns us for our blindness.
Perhaps the most obvious thing pertaining to our utter inability to know God and believe in him is that Paul twice (2.1,5) says that we are dead in our sins. Not wheezing or weak, not feeble and maimed, but stone-cold dead. Our bodies have grown cold, our skin is ashen and waxy, and our joints have gone stiff. Some like to soften this teaching by saying that we are like drowning people to whom God throws a life preserver, but we need to take hold of it. Au contrere, mon frere. Corpses floating in the ocean cannot grab life presevers!
What are we to do? "But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved" (Eph 2.4-5; cf Col 2.13). It is God who makes us alive, entirely by his own decision and calling, for dead men cannot resuscitate themselves. Praise the Son, because he is the only one who can set us free from sin and death (John 8.36; Rom 7.24 - 8:4)!
[Dig deeper: Ezekiel 37.1-14; The Bondage of the Will, Martin Luther; The Bondage and Liberation of the Will, John Calvin; The Freedom of the Will, Jonathan Edwards; The Canons of Dordt]
Thursday, August 4, 2005
You know you're a Lutheran if . . .
Serious support-raising mania has begun. Tonight I really needed a diversion from it, so I came up with the following based upon my own wonderful heritage:
You know you're Lutheran if…
1. … you celebrate both your natural birthday and your baptismal birthday.
2. … the only things the woman of the household can make are Jell-O, casseroles, bratwurst, or lutefisk.
3. … you own Lederhosen.
4. … you've got your Bible in one hand and a beer in the other.
5. … your children are named Martin, Philip, and Katherine.
6. … you believe the real problem with the local courthouse is not that there isn't a monument to the Ten Commandments, but that there isn't an equally prominent monument to the Gospel on the other end of the building.
7. … you end all of your stories with "This is most certainly true."
8. … you receive roses from your boyfriend/husband but complain that they're not white with red hearts in the center.
9. … you live in
10. … you know what the words Bier, Scheisse, and Schnitzelbank mean.
11. … instead of trick-or-treating on October 31, you nail complaints against your neighbor onto his front door.
Sola gratia. Sola fide. Sola Scriptura.
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