Bonhoeffer on the Psalms, part I: the Body of Christ

Something I've found over the past few years is that my prayers become expanded and transcendant when I stop focusing only on the wants and troubles of my own life and begin to intercede for others. I spent many times in the summer of 2004 praying with a copy of Voice of the Martyrs magazine and Hebrews 13:3: "Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering." In those times, the church became more important and God more mighty as I thought of others and the ways God was manifesting his power veiled in weakness throughout the world (2 Corinthians 12:9; 13:4).

Then over the past few years, I've read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's writings about the book of Psalms. We often find it difficult to pray many psalms, finding their joy too high, their pains too sharp, their sufferings too distant. And how easily do we balk at the psalms of deep lament, let alone those "imprecatory psalms" calling for divine retribution upon the enemies of the righteous? Yet Dr. Bonhoeffer gives us such clues as to unlock these difficult prayers:

A psalm that we cannot utter as a prayer, that makes us falter and horrifies us, is a hint to us that here Someone else is praying, not we; that the One who is here protesting his innocence, who is invoking God's judgment, who has come to such infinite depths of suffering, is none other than Jesus Christ himself. He it is who is praying here, and not only here but in the whole Psalter. . . . He prayed the Psalter and now it has become his prayer for all time? . . . Jesus Christ prays the Psalter through his congregation. . . .

Now that Christ is with the Father, the new humanity of Christ, the Body of Christ on earth, continues to pray his prayer to the end of time. This prayer belongs, not to the individual member, but to the whole Body of Christ. Only in the whole Christ does the whole Psalter become a reality, a whole which the individual can never fully comprehend and call his own. That is why the prayer of the psalms belongs in the peculiar way to the fellowship. Even if a verse or a psalm is not one's own prayer, it is nevertheless the prayer of another member of the fellowship; so it is quite certainly the prayer of the true Man Jesus Christ and his Body on earth.*

Bonhoeffer says that the prayers written by and for the Davidic kings are most fully taken up on the lips of the Messiah, the David who was to come. Only he met the truest requirements of innocent suffering, of true righteousness, of just kingship, and of inheriting the covenant promises through his obedience. And so the Psalms are ultimately Jesus' prayers. As such, they become the perfect prayers of the New Man to whom we belong and in whom we are found. When we pray the Psalms, we pray as Christ's body and in Christ, that is, our cries and praises come to the Father as if from the Son himself, his Beloved with whom he is well pleased! And when the Son prays, he is never rejected: "Father, I thank you that you have heard me," he prays in John 11:41-42. "I knew that you always hear me."

Additionally, I have found my prayers to be enriched and my love for the church to grow when I realize Bonhoeffer's insight that "[e]ven if a verse or a psalm is not one's own prayer, it is nevertheless the prayer of another member of the fellowship." Offering up petitions of sad lament, praises of glad adoration, pleas for justice have had this sort of transforming effect on me, as I put myself in others' shoes. Even when the Psalms are joyful, I can find myself thanking God for blessings he is shedding that day on others whom he loves--people I don't know, his work in ways I can't even see.

I find it odd that now it's my turn to go through suffering and loss not only alongside other members of the church in Turkey, but I feel it myself. And it's good to know that all along we've been, through the Psalms, praying and preparing and seeking God in this moment together.
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*Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, 1954), pp. 45-7.

The power of a pronoun

By now you may have heard of last Wednesday's (April 18) events in Malatya, a particularly volatile city in southeastern Turkey. Three men at a Turkish Bible publisher--two Turks and a German--were bound hand and foot, had various body parts lacerated with knives, and had their throats slit by a group of ultra-nationalists who perceived them to be a threat to Islam and to the Turkish state. Eleven men have since been arrested and indicted on murder charges. Will earthly justice miscarry? Only time will tell. These deaths mark the first martyrdom of Turkish converts to Christianity. Previously, murders such as January's shooting of Armenian Christian journalist Hrant Dink in Istanbul and last year's shooting of a Catholic priest in Trabzon were attacks on non-Turkish Christians. (Interestingly, all of these "patriotic" slayings have been committed by teenagers. Perhaps the Turkish word for teenager, delikanlı, is fitting after all: it means "crazy-blooded.")

Over the weekend I was traveling to North Cyprus (tell the U.S. to update its maps) to renew my visa and then to visit some friends in Adana, a warm and beautiful city on Turkey's southern coast. As if the murders hadn't hit home already, they sure did on Sunday at church. The German victim was a member of that congregation during the several years he lived in Adana. People cried and wept as they told stories remembering his gentle heart and soft-spoken manner, how he loved to play the violin, and how his chief goal in life was for others to know Jesus Christ more deeply. Through periods of tears, the pastor preached from John 15:18--16:4, and the need for us not to shrink back in fear, but to continue bearing witness to the truth. He spoke about how ludicrous it was for people to see these Christian men and their Bibles as threats: they lived to make known the message of a book that teaches God's people to love their neighbors as themselves, forgive their enemies, pay their taxes, honor those in authority, care for the needy, heal the sick, and conserve the rest of creation. I was glad to hear that the victims' wives publicly said they do not seek revenge, but rather they forgive the killers. Will the nation hear that message?

* * *

A few things especially have hit me over this: I knew about the shooting in Trabzon last year, and I reacted in bitter disgust at the slaying of Hrant Dink. But now it was personal; somehow these shootings felt closer to home. Friends of mine knew the victims well. When I was journaling and praying, something unique happened: I was praying with first-person plural pronouns, "we" and "us" prayers. No longer did I see the church as Turkish versus expatriate. We are all of one family in Christ, members of one another in this trial. "And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it" (1 Corinthians 12:26). I saw myself and the Turkish church bound up together in one faith, one witness, one travail. Indeed, we are.

Additionally, we hear of deaths in Iraq and Palestine, Sudan and Indonesia, as faceless numbers: "Today seventy-five died in sectarian violence in Baghdad"; "Thirty-two die at Virginia Tech," etc. But these were real men with names, homes, wives and children and fiancees; with hobbies and careers and fiery passion for the Lord Jesus. I was glad to see CNN post a brief biography of each of the VTU victims today.

Please continue to pray for our witness, for the family and friends of the victims, for justice, and for God's forgiving mercy to be shed even upon the killers.

A prayer from the Turkish church

Deliver me from my enemies, O my God;
set me securely on high away from those who rise up against me.
Deliver me from those who do iniquity
and save me from men of bloodshed.
For behold, they have set an ambush for my life;
fierce men launch an attach against me,
not for my transgression nor for my sin, O LORD,
for no guilt of mine, they run and set themselves against me.
Arouse Yourself to help me, and see!

They return at evening, the howl like a dog,
and go around the city.
Behold, they belch forth with their mouth;
swords are in their lips,
for, they say, "Who hears?"
But You, O LORD, laugh at them.


O God, shatter the teeth in their mouth;
break out the fangs of the young lions, O LORD.
Let them flow away like water that runs off;
when he aims his arrows, let them be as headless shafts.
Let them be as a snail which melts away as it goes along,
like the miscarriages of a woman which never see the sun.


But as for me, I shall sing of Your strength;
yes, I shall joyfully sing of Your lovingkindness in the morning.
For You have been my stronghold
and a refuge in the day of my distress.
O my strength, I will sing praises to You;
for God is my stronghold, the God who shows me lovingkindness.

The righteous will rejoice when he sees vengeance;
he will wash his feet in the blood of the wicked.
And men will say, "Surely there is a reward for the righteous;
surely there is a God who judges on earth!"

- taken from Psalms 58 and 59

Hell took a body, and discovered God

Diriliş Bayramınız kutlu olsun! İsa Mesih dirildi, ölüm yenildi! (Happy Easter! Jesus is risen and death is conquered!)

As a child, I knew that there was something different about Easter: everyone wore white, flowers abounded, and trumpets accompanied the organ during the singing of "Crown Him With Many Crowns." But I never "got it." But now, when I read the story beginning with that subtly revealing opening line,"And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun [Son? Light of the world?] had risen . . ." I can't help but getting this tingling, indescribable feeling of wonder.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the painting of the Anastasis inside the Church of St. Savior in Chora in Istanbul is my favorite painting of all time. As in all Anastasis depictions, the Christ stands victorious atop the broken gates of hell (known sometimes as the "Doors of Death"), barring the way for his saints and blocking its powers--do you see Satan bound beneath?-- as he by hand personally lifts Adam and Eve from the grave into life and joy everlasting. At a local Easter celebration last night, the pastor spoke about us hopelessly stuck at the bottom of a deep chasm. Try as we might, we are never able to climb out on our own. But Jesus, the "pioneer [archegos*] of salvation," is the One who by God's power climbed out of the pit, reaching out and towing us along with him out of the danger into sure deliverance, "leading many sons to glory" (Hebrews 2:10).

"On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever." (Isaiah 25:7-8)

The great church father and one-time Patriarch of Constantinople (Istanbul!) John Chrysostom once preached about the Anastasis, the defeat of Death and the Devil by the Lord Jesus. Though 1,600 years old, this sermon is still preached in Orthodox churches at Easter. May it be a hymn of praise to our Savior and our song of triumph.

Is there anyone who is a devout lover of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!
Is there anyone who is a grateful servant?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary with fasting?
Let them now receive their wages!
If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour,
let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour,
let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss.
And if any delayed until the ninth hour,
let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him that toiled from the first.
To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!
First and last alike receive your reward;
rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!

You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!
Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one.
Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith.
Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.
Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.
Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.

He destroyed Hades when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.
Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."

Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.
Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.
O death, where is thy sting?
O Hades, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!
Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!

_____________________

*According to J. Julius Scott, the Greek term archegos encompasses a wide variety of images, but it generally means someone who pioneers a new path for others to follow (trailblazer, pioneer), conquers a city or land (victor, hero, founder), and oversees his people's life in the new city to ensure their safe and prosperous life (prince, leader).

Good Friday

After singing our 35-minute choral piece, "Colors of Grace: Lessons For Lent," during our Good Friday service at UCI tonight, the lights were dimmed and we shared in Holy Communion, partaking of the true Passover meal in which our Savior Jesus' body and blood are offered to us. As I sat watching the others wait to take the bread and wine, the beautiful thought came to me: Jesus died for him and for her, for each one of his ransomed saints whom he purchased with his blood (Acts 20:28; Revelation 5:9). Jesus' death wasn't just some general atonement for sins to which we join ourselves through the exercise of our faith; as the Good Shepherd he died to bring forgiveness, reconcilation, and life to each of the sheep given him by his Father. "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. . . . I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me--just as the Father knows me and I know the Father--and I lay down my life for the sheep" (John 10:11, 14-15).

Jesus' death actually saves sinners: "You are to give him the name Jesus ["Yahweh saves"], because he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:21). That means he had each of us who trust him in mind as he bore beatings, mockings, being spit upon, insults, scourging, and the agony of hanging limp and lacerated upon a Roman cross. Already in the eternal plan of God our names were "engraved on the palms of his hands" (Isaiah 49:16) with the nails. He died for Riza from the Phillipines, for Hasan from Iran, for Erin from Canada, for Ramiel from Moldova, for Valerya from Russia, Jutta from Germany--even for Andrew from Saginaw, Michigan. God's love isn't some amorphous malaise. It is a sacrificial, redeeming love fixed upon each of his children, whose names he wrote even before the foundation of the world in "the book of the Lamb who was slain" (Revelation 13:8). Let us believe along with the Apostle Paul that "Jesus loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). Yes, that means he knew each and every one of our hideous, shameful, godless acts that drove him to the Cross--and he chose to endure the pain even still. A "love that surpasses understanding" indeed.

During his final meal with his disciples, Our Lord said that he will not eat the Passover meal again "until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God," and he "will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes" (Luke 22:14-18). Yet as we, the redeemed from over twenty nations, partook in the Table together, a little slice of the kingdom was true even there in the evening calm. For just as the high priest Caiaphas ignorantly prophesied, Jesus died "not only for [the Jewish] nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one" (John 11:52)--and so it was tonight.

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker-Jacks

It's Opening Day. Sure, the Mets and Cardinals may have squared off last night already, but the real Major League Baseball season starts today when the Tigers' ace Jeremy Bonderman takes the mound against the Toronto Blue Jays. Are we going to surprise everyone like last year? No--everyone's watching us. But can we repeat as a top contender in the tough American League Central Division? Absolutely. Even without veteran pitcher Kenny Rogers (out three months recovering from surgery to remove a blood clot in his shoulder), we have a solid rotation backed with even more offensive firepower than last year in the form of Gary Sheffield.

Spring is here, folks. Last week, I saw someone mowing a lawn (all fifty square meters of it in this city), and it smelled great. The tulips are blooming all over the place. Cats are in heat and going crazy. But best of all, topping the Vernal Equinox or all pagan rites of spring, it's Opening Day. While the rest of Turkey's 74 million residents care only about futbol--you should see the looks on their faces when we play baseball on the shore--the world's greatest sport takes its reign again. Play ball!

Jew or Greek, barbarian or Scythian

If you've been acutely tuned in to global news, you've probably noted the rise of conflict over recognition of the Armenian "conflict" (read: genocide) in the Ottoman Empire that peaked in 1915 with the deaths of some 800,000 of the two million Armenians living with Turkish borders.* You've probably heard about how France and even the U.S. are attempting to pass bills demanding that these events were recognized as massacres. You may have heard how Hrant Dink, an Armenian journalist living in Istanbul who was tried in national court for speaking about the "genocide"--a "crime against Turkishness"--was gunned down in broad daylight by an ultra-nationalist.

Turkish Daily News writer and political author Elif Şafak wrote the following in a recent editorial: "Imagine an exquisite dinner scene in Istanbul. A long, long table; at least 30 people. It is kind of breezy outside, the infamous lodos is blowing incessantly, as if to remind you that life in this city is far from quiet and orderly. Inside the room, the variety of the food served reflects the multicultural roots of today's Turkish cuisine: Albanian meatballs, Greek seafood, Kurdish spices, Armenian pastries, Turkish pilaf. People drink and eat and laugh and from time to time, they toast friends long departed.

"Then somebody starts to sing a song. Other guests join in and before you know it a string of songs follow, most of them sad but none disheartening. The songs switch almost effortlessly from Armenian to Kurdish, from Turkish to Greek. Where one stops another one picks up. Imagine, in short, a cosmopolitan setting where everyone is welcome no matter what their ethnicity, race or religion. Imagine a country where we are all equal, friendly and free."

Why do we partners in humanity have this longing? Because, I believe, this is part of the life of Paradise, of the Kingdom of God, where people from "every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues" will feast in the joyous presence of the Triune Savior, drinking from the water of life with every tear wiped away, "Salvation to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb" (Rev. 7:9-17). In Christ Jesus--and nowhere else--is there "a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew [or even the Greeks' long-standing enemies, the Turks], circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all" (Col. 3:11). God has planted an echo of eternity in everyone's heart for which we all long (Ecc. 3:10), but only by accepting the work of the Lord Jesus will we ever enter into that joy.

The beginnings of such a beautiful thing did happen at Dink's funeral, though: thousands of people--Turks, Kurds, and Armenians alike--marched in the streets chanting "We are all Hrant Dink! We are all Armenians!" Was this a demonstration of the intrinsic goodness of man? Or did it have something to do with the fact that Hrant Dink and his wife were faithful Christians, through whom God was spreading a vision of redemption? I've heard that at the funeral, which received national television coverage, Dink's wife truly spoke of her hope in the gospel of Christ. May her prayers be answered.

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*This began in 1874, when invading Russian forces sought and secured the aid of Armenians in defeating the Ottomans from within. Were there religious overtones, with the Armenians and Russians standing both as Orthodox Christians, and the Turks as Muslims?

Jesus Christ is the miracle of all miracles

Thinking more about the gospel--or, more so, the Gospels (I'm reading St. John's account right now)--I can't help but notice the primacy of miracles (testifying "signs" to John). What are these all about? Are they merely proof-texts of Jesus' deity, showing that as the God-man he can make satisfaction for our sins upon the Cross? Or are they part of the message itself, the Kingdom of God? Karl Barth--and I think rightly so--says that they are also foretastes of the new and radically blessed order that has become "at hand" in Jesus (Mark 1:14-15). The promises given to Israel by their covenant God are finding their fulfillment in Jesus Christ.

"When the biblical miracle stories excite serious and relevant wonderment, they intend to do this as signals of something fundamentally new, not as a violation of the natural order which is generally known and acknowledged." (Evangelical Theology: An Introduction. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1963. p. 68)

"According to the biblical testimony, what happened following such statements [e.g., "Rise, take up your bed and go home" and the miracle commands of Jesus] was always a change in the ordinary course of the world and nature which threatened and oppressed man. Though these changes were isolated and temporary, they were nevertheless radically helpful and saving. What took place were promises and intimations, anticipations of a redeemed nature, of a state of freedom, of a kind of life in which there will be no more sorrow, tears, and crying, and where death as the last enemy will be no more. What is communicated under the form of these little lights is always the reflected brightness of the great light which draws near to the end of the present in the form of hope. What is at stake is the summons, "'Look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near'" (Luke 21:28). This kindling of the light of hope is what is really new; it is the really surprising element in the biblical miracle stories." (pp. 68-69)

"What is really and decisively new is the new man.

"According to the biblical witness, Jesus acted by these miraculous deeds in the midst of other men as the Lord, servant, and guarantor for them all. In these deeds he proclaimed both himself and the righteousness and judgment of God. In them he revealed his glory. He himself is the new event, the great light of hope that has already come and will come again after having shined provisionally in these little lights [presumably referring to his miracles; see previous quote]. The new event is the world's reconciliation with God, which was announced in the Old Testament and fulfilled in the New Testament by Jesus Christ. The new event is the fulfilling and perfecting of the covenant between God and man. The new event is love, free grace, the unfathomable mercy with which God took up the cause of Israel, the criminal contender against God, and the cause of the whole rebellious and corrupt human race. He took up their cause by letting his Word become flesh, miserable and sinful flesh like our own. The execution of his eternal counsel took place in a concrete act within time and space, not on the lofty pinnacle of some idea that might be easily comprehensible and persuasive for man. The Word became flesh in our place and for us, to overcome, take away, and eradicate the sin that separates us from God, the sin that is also the sting of death, the old element of our old nature and world. The new event is the name of God which is hallowed in this one person, in his obedience, service, life, and death. It is the kingdom come in him, established and active in him, God's will that in him is done on earth as in heaven. The new event is the pathway of children to their father, the way opened through him to all men and traversable for them all through the power of life of the Holy Spirit.

"The new event, according to the biblical witness, is the history of Jesus Christ that concludes the history of Israel. Christ the Saviour is there! In a real and decisive sense, therefore, he is the miracle, the miracle of all miracles! Whoever takes up the subject of theology finds himself inevitably confronted with this miracle. Christ is that infinitely wondrous event which compels a person, so far as he experiences and comprehends this event, to be necessarily, profoundly, wholly, and irrevocably astonished." (pp. 70-71)

The job hunt has begun

With plans to return to the U.S. in early July and begin an indefinitely long teaching career (that is, unless--or until?--something else calls, perhaps a role in Church education at home or abroad), I've begun hacking my way through the jungle of job hunting. Forget the Amazon; this is far worse. You see, I'm at a slight disadvantage, with nothing less than the Atlantic Ocean (plus the Mediterranean Sea to boot!) between me and those lovely faces representing schools from across Michigan and the rest of the U.S. at the education job fairs that sprout like mushrooms every April.

So, like Jesus' teaching, "Behold, there went out a sower to sow" (Mark 4:3 KJV), I'm e-mailing tons of school districts to let them know I exist. I figure that at three schools per day, I can catch some 250 schools before I return. I have yet to find a single job posting for the 2007-08 school year, but this is normal, and it'll be even crazier and more last-minute with the funding cuts and whopping 8% unemployment in Michigan. Shall I perhaps end up living outside the bounds of my beloved Mitten? O Pleasant Peninsula, may it never be!

Well, if New England weren't so outrageously expensive (Massachusetts, southern NY, Connecticut) or shrinking and underfunded (Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire), then maybe it would be a good location. Besides, how cool would it be to say I live in a town called Schenectady? There are plenty of jobs, however, in the South: the Carolinas, Virginia, and Georgia, where school districts are growing rapidly.

But in the midst of retraining my mind to the world of science--particularly biology and chemistry--I'm finding that, in fact, I am excited about getting back into the classroom. First off, there's the coolness contained in discovering how batteries work (which do not get lighter after use), the mysteries of tree growth (whose mass does not come from the soil), and diving into the complex web of interactions between man and the rest of nature (sorry, Al Gore, but it looks like global warming has been a historically present and cyclical phenomenon--though we are exacerbating it). But alongside that are even greater enigmas to be explained: teenagers. I think it's quite fitting that the Turkish word for "teenager" is delikanlı, which means "crazy-blooded."

So from now on, more news and thoughts about my soon-to-be life as an educator will be cropping up from time to time. My apologies to all who hated science; you didn't have me as your teacher!

Sexuality, man, and the Trinity

I found this beautiful meditation on human sexuality by Peter Leithart, and though I'm not married (shoot, I'm not even dating anyone!) I thought it was full of such beautiful yet succinct insight that it's worth passing on.

Exhortation, Third Sunday Of Lent

When God created the land animals, He created them male and female. The earth brought forth sexed living creatures, both male and female arising from the ground. God did not create the human sexes in the same way. He formed Adam from the dust of the ground, but in a separate act He formed Eve from Adam. None of the animals from the ground was a suitable helper to Adam. He needed a helper who came from himself.

This difference highlights the basic differences between animal and human sexuality.

Animals are created male and female, simultaneously. "They do not require each other for the fulfillment of their lives’ calling, and only for the purposes of breeding, and for the time necessary for perpetuating the species, do they seek and find each other" (Hirsch).

Human sexuality is a different matter entirely. Man is first created male, and then divided into male and female. Nowhere are animals described as becoming "one flesh," but man is divided into male and female in order to be reunited. Sexuality for human beings is about unity in diversity, about imaging the God who can say both "I" and "we."

Modern views of sex usually assume that human sexuality is the same as animal sexuality. If animals mate in order to survive as a species, then human beings must do the same. If animal sexual desire is no more than a biological instinct, human sexuality is the same. If animals can get along without lifelong partnerships, so can we.

All these are lies, and they are fundamental lies. Once Adam is divided, he can no longer fulfill his calling by himself, but only with his wife. Once Adam is divided, his life as a whole is bound up with his union with his bride. For human beings, sexual difference is not just about sex. It's about man's life and calling as a whole. In every phase of his life, Adam cleaves to his bride so that they become "one flesh."

Repentance and justification by faith

"There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered them, 'Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.' " (Luke 13:1-5)

According to F. F. Bruce in his New Testament History, two events may be in reference to what Jesus said here. (1) In response to his demand that the Temple coffer partially fund his newly-built aqueducts—Pilate argued that the Temple shared in its benefits through its water supply for priestly cleansings—a protest occurred over this sacrilege, this mingling of Rome and Temple and the wielding of Pilate’s power over the Jewish religion. This attack of Galilean pilgrims in the Temple courts would have (at least figuratively) meant that their blood was mingled with that of the sacrificial offerings.[1]

(2) The event at Siloam (SE corner of Jerusalem), though it may well have been simply a natural disaster, in Jesus’ context in Luke 13:4 may indicate that it, too, occurred when a military insurrection against Rome was upset, and the insurrectionists’ tower pulled down.[2]

If these are in fact the events surrounding Jesus’ warning, the message may be something like this: “If their minds remained bent upon resistance to Rome, then ruin would befall their city and themselves. Why not rather follow the way of the Son of Man, the way of submission and service, and thus establish the new kingdom—not as a result of obedience to God’s will but in obedience to his will?”[3]

No matter how much the Jews (or anyone else, for that matter) wanted to bring about the kingdom’s promises of peace, prosperity, and freedom for Israel, it was never going to happen on their own accord, by their own action, on their own terms. Instead of trusting God to fulfill his promise and make it happen himself, they were trying to seize it through their own actions. Many hoped that their obedience to Torah and their opposition to the nations would inaugurate God’s saving work. In essence, they didn’t believe God’s promises nor his power to fulfill them. Instead of waiting patiently for him (Ps. 46:10), they tried to do God’s work in their own ways, effectively removing God from their lives and setting themselves in his place. They became directors of their own history, gods themselves. Directors of their own lives and history, the King is supplanted by self—a grievous and blatant transgression.

And yet the truth was that Jerusalem, representative of all Israel who rejected the Messiah, never learned “the things that make for peace” (Luke 19:41), failing to see that in Jesus God their Savior had truly visited them to bring his salvation and judgment: in him God’s kingdom was already present, apart from anything they had ever done. All they had to do was open their eyes to him and believe it—believe him. In an eerily similar rebuke to Israel that their disobedience of God’s will shall bring about the utter collapse and destruction of Jerusalem (Isaiah 30:8-17), the prophet offers this call to simply trust in Yahweh: “For thus says the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In repentance and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength. . . . Therefore the LORD waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the LORD is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him’” (30:15, 18).

Even if these two events as described by Bruce were not in fact what Jesus was referring to, the call stands: Unless you keep trying to direct your own life and achieve good, blessing, and joy, or “heaven” or anything else you desire, by your own means, under your own effort and apart from trust in God and his Messiah, you will likewise perish. You will never participate in the kingdom of God, the new heavens and the new earth. Unless you simply trust that in Jesus of Nazareth God reigns and has done away with all that plagues us—sin’s corruption, guilt, and shame, death-separation from God as a result of our sin, the swaying powers of the devil, and the oppression of world powers—then you will surely die.

Thus justification by faith alone still wholeheartedly accords with the call, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel,” for it is only when we stop trying to see things happen by our works, whether those of the Law (Torah) or by being a good person according to the law within our own hearts (Rom. 2:15), that God will act to save us.

---

[1] F. F. Bruce, New Testament History (New York: Doubleday, 1969), 36-7.
[2] Ibid., 37, 188.
[3] Ibid., 188.

What is the gospel?

Lately my roommate Ryan and I have been thinking and trying to figure out, "What is the gospel?" As a result, I hope to put some of my/our scriptural "conclusions" (as if I could ever achieve some sort of closed, final understanding of the matter!) online here. Right or wrong, messy or neat, I hope we see that the gospel is more than we often think it is (see here also).

“Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God [concerning his Son] and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel’” (Mark 1:14-15; Rom. 1:1-6).

Former Evangelical Lutheran Synod (ELS) pastor Rolf Preus contends that the center from which all church fellowship develops is “the gospel of justification by faith alone.” Yes, that would certainly be a fitting definition of the gospel by Lutheran standards, and justification by faith alone is certainly good news, amazing news for us condemned sinners. But is the gospel itself justification by faith alone? We know that all who believe the gospel are justified by faith alone. But does that mean a person becomes justified by faith by believing in justification by faith? In other words, was Jesus preaching, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in justification by faith”?

Or are we justified—that is, declared forgiven of all our sins, “in the right” with God, and included in God’s promised kingdom blessings—by faith in Jesus as Messiah and Lord and all that this encompasses? This message naturally begins with the news that God reigns (Isa. 52:7; Rom. 10:15) and that God, incarnate and active in Jesus of Nazareth, has inaugurated his reign, the basileia tou theou, “the kingship of God.” (Psalms 2 and 110 provide this as the framework for the teachings of both Jesus and the apostles, and they are the most-quoted OT texts in the NT. Likewise Psalm 72, recognized by Jews and Christians alike as messianic, directly attaches to the Davidic king the fulfillment of the Abrahamic covenant.) The gospel of Jesus as Lord means not that Jesus is some indomitable force we must all bow before (though that’s quite true enough), but that he has triumphed over all his enemies—Sin, Death, and the Devil—and, through our receptive trust in this, brings us into all that this victory entails and provides.

Naturally, the news that God reigns means that against all opposition (both human and demonic), he is the one who has made good on his promises to Adam and Abraham, David and Israel. When all the fulfilling, saving work comes from God and not from us—for we only get in the way, screw things up, and even try to vehemently defy him—this of course means that we don’t have anything to add to it, can’t take credit for any of it. We simply enter into it this salvation and receive—inherit—the kingdom by faith alone. Sola fide.

Of course, God cannot have fellowship with sin and the wicked whose hearts desire self-reign rather than God-reign. (That’s every one of us humans.) Human autonomy is the very thing contradictory to the kingdom of God itself. But in Christ Crucified God has already removed from us both the guilt of our sins (Isa. 53; Jer. 31:34; 1 Cor. 15:1-3) and the very power of sin itself, putting our old selves to death in Christ and raising us to live in the newness and re-creation of Christ’s resurrection (Rom. 6:1-11; 1 Cor. 15). We are now fueled and freed by the Holy Spirit to love God (and others) instead of trying to please him and bring his promises into fulfillment by our own puny, self-righteous moral strivings (Jer. 31:33; Ezek. 36:24-28; Rom. 6:13ff; 2 Cor. 5:14-15; Gal. 2:20-21).

Quoting Psalm 110:1, Paul speaks also of Christ’s lordship over Death in 1 Corinthians 15:25-27a: “For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death. For ‘God has put all things in subjection under his feet.’”

Ultimately, the gospel is God himself, that we get to live in fellowship with him as God-with-us and God-for-us every day, no matter what our stumblings and difficulties may be. We now get to experience but the “firstfruits” of his presence through the Spirit and are able to “taste and see that the LORD is good” (Ps. 34:8). But one day, in the new heavens and new earth, where death, sin, and the devil will be no more, we will stand in our glorified resurrection-bodies and see him “face to face” and “know fully, even as [we] have been fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12; cf. Jer. 31:34; Rev. 7:13-17). And we shall cry, “Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for his judgments are true and just. . . . Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory” (Rev. 19:1-2, 6-7).

Update

Here are a few updates on my recent posts:

Thanks to anyone who was concerned about my grandfather's health. He has actually improved tremendously over the past two weeks. Because he couldn't eat for a period and was rapidly weakening, we decided to add a PEG feeding tube in order to feed directly into his stomach through his abdomen. Scary. But he's gaining strength, is spending more time awake and talking, can sit up on his own, and is even eating some food again. All credit goes to our caring, miracle-working Father who is sovereign over even the most infinitesimal details of cellular function: electrical currents across synapses, meiotic division of cells, stimulation of steroid production. Please keep on praying for him (his name is Louis Bork).

Please continue to pray for "Sadie." I got this e-mail from one of her friends this week:
"Please join me in praying for 'Sadie' tonight. I just got off the phone with her and our sweet sister is experiencing some of her first 'flaming darts.' Since coming to Christ in faith last Sunday, she went home for a 2 week vacation. (She lives 3 hours east.) During thistime she has been reading a lot of Christian/Islam history which has filled her with doubt about her recent decision to follow Christ. She explained this doubt as 'a storm cloud in her head' and does not know if she wants to follow Christ anymore. She asked for prayer that she 'would be free in her relationship with [God].' As I pray for her the Lord reminds me that the Holy Spirit indwells her and will lead her into all truth. He is her Good Shepherd and will not lead her astray. Christ himself prayed that she would be protected from the evil one. Christ is already victor against these schemes of the enemy. Something [Clarissa] and I have been praying for since day 1 is that she would be one sown on good soil, hearing the word and understanding, bearing fruit and yielding 100, 60, or 30 fold."

Reason to rejoice

Just a day after returning from the States and having spent three weeks out of country, mentally off track and tired from jet lag, I got a refreshing "welcome back" gift on Sunday: our friend "Sadie" came to trust the Lord and become a child of God! We felt it was only going to be a matter of time, given her sincere, prayerful interest in knowing God in Jesus since we met her a few months ago.

While praying during a native worship service, she said she saw a vision of Christ, "magnificent" in light, standing within her house. Someone read to her from Revelation 1:13-16, and Sadie exclaimed, "That's what he was like!" Then she was read Revelation 3:20, where Jesus promises, "Look! Here I stand at the door and knock. If you hear me calling and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal as friends" (NLT). She likewise saw him in her house and wanted to put off his saving fellowship no longer; there in the church she prayed and received Christ. With hugs and kisses, the small congregation welcomed her into her new family. "Today starts a new life for me."

Later that sunny afternoon I met up with her, some other American friends, and two others my age who have become believers over the past year, "Hal" and "Rose," to drink tea and enjoy each other's company. It was so refreshing to sit there and talk, rejoicing over their faith in Christ--itself a gift from God--and know that the Holy Spirit is indeed active here--yes, even in a Muslim nation!--in bringing people to know the Lord.

* * *

The seventy returned with joy, saying, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us in Your name." And He said to them, "I was watching Satan fall from heaven like lightning. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will injure you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are recorded in heaven." (Luke 10:17-20)

For as much joy as I have shared over Sadie's entering into Jesus' reconciliation to her Father, God reminds me to rejoice more greatly still in my own rescue and reconcilation. Wait a second--isn't that sort of selfish, the very sort of it's-all-about-me attitude God despises? Well, no, not exactly.

After wrestling with this passage for a while, I came to this understanding: God calls us to focus first of all on our own redemption above that of others in order to keep us from thinking that we are the makers and shapers of salvation, rather than the Holy Spirit. These seventy(-two) disciples of Jesus were going and doing great things, seeing all sorts of ministerial miracles happen in the power that Christ had given them in his name. Could they have become tempted to see these salvation-events as something they brought about and controlled? Perhaps. But when we acknowledge first of all that we wouldn't even be out there to tell the gospel to others if we first hadn't been saved, re-created, and filled with the Spirit of Christ who is active in our personal and community witness, we stay grounded in the fact that we're first and foremost recipients of and participants in God's salvation--not influential "movers and shakers."

So in all we may do to tell others the message of Jesus Christ, pray for God's work in others, and serve him in his kingdom, let's lift up grateful hearts to our Father, praising him that "He chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him" and that "in love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will" (Eph. 1:4, 5).

My flesh and my heart may fail

Today I went to the hospital to see my grandpa for the final time before flying back overseas. He's not well: he's more or less starving, and tomorrow they're going to put in a PEG tube in order to feed him directly through his stomach wall. Because he's not suffering from a terminal condition, but rather a (hopefully) reversible infection, we've decided as a family that this is an acceptable plan of action; we hope to build up his strength to fight his respiratory and urinary infections while gaining back some of the twenty pounds he's lost in two weeks. Otherwise, to simply prolong biological life while leaving none of his dignity and soundness would be a crime. But Opa is still sharp as a tack, praise God, and he feels no pain.

My family with Opa on his 85th birthday, February 4.
L-R: my uncle Tom, me, my mom Karen, my brother Jordan,
my grandmother Mona ("Oma"), and Opa.

What do I say to Opa, knowing that I might never see him again? I've prayed about this all week. Though he was never wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, the life of Louis H. Bork has been marked by his honesty and by a cheerful spirit determined to do good to all in his path. He has also faithfully been a part of Immanuel Lutheran Church in Bay City, MI, for all his life. As such God has put Psalm 73 on my heart repeatedly, but today was the first time I found him conscious long enough to say much to him. I memorized vv. 23-28 and spoke them to him:

Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; . . .
But for me it is good to be near God.

Eugene Peterson's The Message paraphrase renders v. 26 as "When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, GOD is rock-firm and faithful." True dat. I told Opa of Jesus' sure presence and love, that even now God is lovingly with him, holding his right hand (which I was doing at the time). Even as much as we, his family, are with him and care for him, so much more so does the One Who is Love. I kissed Opa's head and told him how happy I am to have had him as my grandfather--a man of such character and humble integrity--and that I loved him. He opened his eyes to look at me and squeezed my hand, scarcely able to force out a hoarse whisper: "I am . . . I am . . . proud [of you]." (I think this is what he said; I couldn't understand him well.) At the end of every letter and holiday card he has ever written to me, these have been his words.

I didn't cry. I never do.

In my sadness, within me I yet praise God to the uttermost that we are saved by grace, not by faith; that we are "not justified by works of the law but through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ" (Gal. 2:16); that the faith through which we inherit the kingdom is itself a gift from our Father. Sitting next to my grandfather's hospital bed, I felt a deep peace that I had no need to bastardize this lavish grace by probing him, "Do you believe? If you believe this, the kingdom is assured." No. I rested, trusting that by speaking the gospel to him and assuring him of Jesus' faithfulness, the Holy Spirit would, using the words of the LCMS Eucharistic liturgy, "strengthen and preserve [him] unto life everlasting." If it were up to Opa in this time to muster up from within the strength to believe, I could find no comfort. But when faith itself is a blessing freely given by God (Eph. 2:8-9; Phil. 1:29), we can find peace. "GOD is rock-firm and faithful."

"Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it" (1 Thess. 5:23-24).

Human resources?

Right now I'm at home in Saginaw. While I was on vacation last weekend in Fez, Morocco, I got a call from my mother telling me that my Opa (German for "grandpa") was expected to die at any point from kidney failure and fever. (It's a long story.) After several hours of harried searching on the Internet, I found a flight and got back to Detroit the next day. Opa didn't die, but he spent a week in the ICU. He has since been moved out, but I've never seen him so weak: he sleeps almost all day, talks little, and eats even less. Some days I was spending up to eighteen hours in the hospital, taking turns with others in my family to watch over him.

All that is to say that I was home for dinner tonight, which also means a usual butting of heads with my one of my family over how to live rightly. We rarely agree.

My mom was telling about when she began teaching at an elementary school in inner-city Saginaw. The faculty were socially split between whites and blacks, but my mom refused to take sides. Another family member interjected, "That's fine. Just make sure you don't get caught with the losers." When I inquired as to what exactly he meant, he clarified that I need to make sure I hang out with the right crowd, so as not to jeopardize my career. He cited "Wally" from the Dilbert comic strip as such a "loser" to avoid.

I was immediately taken aback. What a graceless way to live! Did Jesus deem us worthy of fellowship and conducive to his own self-promotion before choosing to associate with and suffer for us? I'm pretty sure the historical record goes something like this: "While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die--but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:6-8). In other words, we were helpless, worthless, even hostile nobodies.

People are not commodities to be used, to be alternately befriended or shunned on the basis of what they can do for us. And they are not problems in our way needing to be solved or else put at a distance. Until recently, businesses had "personnel" departments; now they have "human resources." Resources? Like iron ore? Sugar beets? Lumber? Everyone, even Wally--even me!, bears the image of God and is precious to him. The religious leaders snickered and scoffed at Jesus' relationships that were unfitting to his role as a rabbi. "Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!" (Luke 7:34). Likewise when Simon the Pharisee saw that Jesus allowed a promiscuous woman to bathe and anoint his feet, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner" (Luke 7:39).

Yet I often find that as quick as I am to find fault with others, something equally corrupt lies within my own heart as well. Time will tell. (To his credit, when I talked with him later in the evening, he acknowledged that God has treated us differently than he views others.)

Lord, help us to see that we are all losers, unworthy of your love. Yet you have showered it upon us and not withheld it! Forgive us! Open our eyes to our own prejudices and the ways we use others for our own means, and bring us to repentance, treating everyone as we ourselves wish to be treated: with dignity, value, and intimacy. Amen.

Eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit

I don't know if it's a result of living in a country that is, quite literally, the birthplace of Christianity ("And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians," Acts 11:26) and steeped in a rich Christian history. Perhaps it's being fed up with the often mindless and bland forms of current evangelical worship or longing to find a place in something that involves more than just me and my local congregation. But over the past several months I've had an increasing desire to find ties to other forms of Christian tradition and practice, "finding our roots," as it were.

(1) In no way am I abandoning my Reformation convictions--in fact, I'm rather returning to the beliefs upheld by Luther, Calvin, and the framers of the Book of Concord and the Westminster Confession of Faith--but I've come to believe that the sacraments of baptism and Holy Communion are central to our corporate lives as the ekklesia, "the assembly." (Shoot, just look back at my posts from the past six months.) Today's evangelical churches need to place a greater emphasis on both understanding and carrying out these rites ordained by the Lord himself (Matt. 28:19; Luke 22:19). When was the last time you heard a sermon about the sacraments? (Likewise, I hope to see Covenant Theology preached and taught much more fully; it simply makes sense of so much of the Bible.)

(2) I long to sing hymns--rich, meaningful, Christ-centered hymns--that express who God is and what he has done, not my own feelings and emotions. I want to sing the songs that have been sung for hundreds of years, or even thousands, like the Phos Hilaron, sung at sunset worship services.

(3) I appreciate liturgies and the church calendar much more now. I value the calendar because it keeps us focused on the historical acts of God in this world in Christ: awaiting a savior in both his first and future comings (Advent), the Incarnation (Christmas), the passion (Lent), the Resurrection (Easter), Christ's reign and intercession (Ascension), and the giving of the Holy Spirit (Pentecost). A few weeks ago someone mentioned Ascension Sunday, and a friend of mine asked "Drew, what's that?" And the more I look back at my own life and that of others within the church, it's easy to see that the principle of lex orandi [est] lex credendi ("the law of prayer is the law of belief"). I think it's true that for many people and in different ways, what we believe is influenced by what we do, and not entirely vice versa. I may well have come to believe and understand orthodox Christianity if by nothing other than reciting the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds every week. Liturgies of some sort drill into us the truth of God and a life of response to him.

St. Vartanants Armenian Apostolic Church

Something I think is cool about living here is that, at least as far as I can tell, there is a much more visible and valued ecumenism within the church here--Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant. This past week was the Week of Prayer for Church Unity. I was afforded the opportunity to worship and pray in an entirely native liturgical Presbyterian church (some of the melodies and words predate Islam) and also in an Armenian Orthodox church. The bright lights and gold, the pungent smell of incense, and the rich, echoing chants from the chorale were a pleasant shock to my senses. But best of all, it felt good to be able to sing and pray with such a diverse gathering of people and know that they were all my brothers and sisters; we are all in this together, "called and chosen and faithful" (Rev. 17:14).

Prayer request

My friend Lucas and I have befriended two brothers, Harkan and Tarkan, who own a nearby restaurant. A few weeks ago Tarkan invited us to eat dinner at his home with his family, and it was a wonderful blessing I'll never forget. But we know that they're working super hard to make ends meet (12 hours a day, 6-7 days a week).

On Monday Harkan asked Lucas and me, "What do you think about destiny?" As it turns out, both he and his uncle have recently had dreams about his wife dying. Right now she is going through some sort of depression, and Harkan himself seems quite down, though he is encouraged by our prayers for him (and the Mike Tyson CDs we've made for him!). Please be praying for Harkan, his wife, and their five-month-old daughter. Thank you.

"Faith comes from hearing"

Last week at church I found myself in a very privileged but awe-ful situation, "standing on holy ground," as it were: I was asked to read the Scripture portions for the day, Matthew 20:1-16 and Ephesians 2:1-10. Then Pastor Benjamin preached about God's gracious nature that gives life and blessing to us even though we don't deserve it. The sermon was rightly followed by sharing in Communion, where we as beggars hold out empty hands to receive God's greatest gift, the life-giving, faith-strengthening body and blood of Jesus Christ. But I'm sure you wonder why I said it was holy and awe-ful.

Well, in Romans 10 St. Paul asks, "How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? . . . So faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ" (vv. 14, 17; cf. James 1:18; 1 Peter 1:23). As we read aloud God's Word and preach the message of salvation in Christ, the Holy Spirit works faith in our hearts. Verse 14 says, "How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard?" That is, when the gospel is spoken, it is as if the Lord himself were speaking, his voice coming through the pastor or parent or teacher or friend. As such, I read through the passages to myself several times the night before church. To be the voice of Christ through which faith is born and renewed! How crazy!

Um . . . woops

Having forgotten that the grocery stores would be closed today for both New Year's Day and for theIslamic Sacrifice Feast, I found myself with nothing but oatmeal to eat for dinner (which I had already eaten earlier for lunch). So we decided to order pizza from a local Italian restaurant we like. According to the menu in our possession, our total would've been about $17. But when the delivery guy arrived, it was actually $26. After giving my roommate crap that he (a) didn't confirm the price over the phone and (b) actually caved in and paid the $26, I threw on my coat and walked ten minutes to the restaurant to explain the situation and get my money back. In true Andrew Hall fashion, I would not lose money without making a huge ordeal about it. (You ought to see me with taxi drivers who claim to not have any change.)

Upon arriving at the tiny but fully occupied restaurant, I discovered that the prices really had increased by some 50% in the past few months, and that my roommate simply had not checked the price. I apologized to the owner and walked back home to eat my expensive pizza. A short while later, though, the owner called to apologize that we didn't have the most current menu, and he sent someone over to refund the extra $9 we rightfully paid.

Now in America this wouldn't be a big deal, but here the need to keep face, honor and respect others, and avoid any sort of public disgrace is real and present. And I sought it fit to throw that all aside over a few bucks. When the owner not only called back but actually refunded our money, I got that sinking feeling in my conscience (I think it's called the Holy Spirit or something). Here I was, so bent upon exercising my rights that I didn't even care about this man's reputation. I chose to bypass Jesus, who gave up all his rights to praise and reverence as God and took on human form, was reviled, shunned, and estranged by his peers, and eventually was made to bear the pain and ignominy of public execution. Woops. I guess I screwed up that one pretty good. And by that I mean--gulp--sin: heaps of pride and care for myself over another man.

Fourth Sunday in Advent

To my joy and anticipation, the fourth and final candle on our Advent wreath was lit this evening. Tonight again the Christchild comes.

Reading through the Gospel of John this month, I'm met with this strange but wonderful Christmas message of the Word made flesh who reveals the Father. Jesus says, "If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him." "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" (John 14:7, 9). The same goes in John's introduction to his Gospel narrative: "No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father's side, has made him known" (1:18).

But prior to Jesus' words in chapter 14 is the perplexing fact that, though he is "Lord and Teacher," he washes his disciples' feet and is among men as "one who serves" (Luke 22:27). Jesus never abandoned his full equality in being with God when he took on flesh in the womb of a poor peasant girl. He was still revealing the Father when he touched the ill, crippled, and unclean to heal them; when he was put to death in ignominy, abandonment, and shame. But how is it that in Jesus' deep acts of humility, meekness, and servanthood he truly reveals the Father? I cannot wrap my mind around this. How can God the Holy, the All-powerful, the Exalted, the Splendrous, be himself a God who serves? How is he, in his nature, a servant? How is this possible?

But Jesus shows us in his life and death that real authority looks far different than we perceive it with the eyes of the world. "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all" (Mark 9:35). "He who is the least among you all--he is the greatest" (Luke 9:48). Is it not the mystery of Christmas and the judgment of God upon the world itself that the Light of Christ "shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it" (John 1:5)?

Tonight and during the Christmas festival (that is, from today until Epiphany on January 6), let's pray with the blind beggar, "Lord, I want to see!" (Luke 19:41), that we might not try to find God in glory and power--these are the ways of the world, our sin and blindness--but as he has chosen to reveal himself: in a babe laid in a feed trough, the King of the world who has come to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

My Christmas wish list

With my 25th birthday having come and gone a week ago (Dec. 16) and Christmas coming in a few short days, it's nice to think about all the cool gifts I'd like to be given but will never actually receive, living some 8,700 kilometers from home. (That's 5,400 miles for all of you living in the past. Face it: the metric system is superior.) Nonetheless, here is my second annual Christmas wish list.

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you're probably aware that I like to read a lot, especially about theology (and by that I mean, living truth about God and his ways). If it were possible and I didn't have an upcoming career in science education, I'd probably spend all my time reading, studying, and writing about such things. My theology picks are: Jonathan R. Wilson, God So Loved the World; N. T. Wright, Simply Christian; Gerhard O. Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross; and Jurgen Moltmann, The Crucified God.

As far as other books go, there are few authors I'm more interested in than recent Nobel Prize winner and fiction writer Orhan Pamuk. His novels Snow and My Name is Red have drawn worldwide acclaim, but I'm most interested in his memoirs, Istanbul: Memories and the City. Throw in the latest anthology of poetry by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and I'll be occupied for a long time (especially as I own many books that I haven't even read yet).

As I was perusing the Detroit Tigers web page yesterday I read that, to my joy, a four-CD boxed set of recordings from announcer Ernie Harwell's illustrious broadcasting career is to be released soon. Having many fond summer memories of his sweet, Southern voice telling of strikeout victims who "stood there like a house by the side of the road" and home run balls that were "looonnggg gone," I really want to pick this up soon.

Living in a country where the drink of choice is made from salty yogurt and the alcoholic staple is an anise-flavored liquor that'll knock you off your chair (affectionately known as "lion's milk"), I long for some good beer. Sure, some crappy pilseners are available. But real beers have to have flavor, something that makes them memorable. Hats off to Bell's Brewery of Kalamazoo Brewing Company for my favorite, their Best Brown Ale.

Just like last year, I still want an iPod, seeing as how I spend three hours a day on public transportation, and my CD player is all but dead. (Though I still can't help but wonder how much the headphoned world contributes to our isolation from one another.) And I've got to have music for it, right? Ideally I'd be listening to The Appleseed Cast's new release Peregrine. I'm starting to dig their ever-morphing sound that is simultaneously rich yet lulling. If Peregrine is as good as Mare Vitalis, I'll be glad. Other albums I'd like: Rainer Maria, Long Knives Drawn; Mineral, End Serenading; Sufjan Stevens, Michigan; and some good jazz.

But none of this would really be worth anything without home, without my family. Dear Mom and Dad, all I want for Christmas is a plane ticket home for a week.

You cannot limit this Gospel!

I've recently begun helping with a Christian interparish refugee assistance program in the city providing housing, food, clothing, child care, and routine medical aid to migrants seeking a new life. Each week I get the privilege of having fun with children from Eritrea, Ethiopia, Somalia, Iran, Iraq, and elsewhere in the Muslim world. Most of them are knit by the common language of Arabic or, for those from Iran, Farsi. It really is a blast!


This morning as we got all the children together for a group photo, a conversation I had last night with Ziya Meral was still in my mind. Currently a human rights activist, Ziya has also authored several books, including one about what it means to have a truly native Christian theology. That is, for him, what does it mean to live as a Christian in 21st-century Turkey? You see, here as elsewhere in the Middle East, those who become Christians bear the stigma of being labeled traitors and converts to Western, Anglo-Saxon cultural ideologies. Having read a book last year about countries with shame-based worldviews (unlike Western guilt-based worldviews developing from Plato's Republic and Roman law), I began to see the importance of a truly cultural, indigenous idea of what it means to live as one bearning the name of Jesus Christ.

At the same time, culture shapes what we see and cherish in the gospel of the person and work of Jesus. For those in America, oftentimes the gospel is that Jesus bore the punishment for our sins and we are declared innocent or "righteous" before God. In Jordan it's that God himself is restoring the shamed and outcast to a position of honor, with his Son bearing their alienation and reproach. In Laos and animist cultures Jesus is the Victor who wields power and triumph over all evil spirits. In Bolivia Jesus brings equality and crushes injustice. All of these are true and biblically valid ways to understand and embrace the Messiah.

So this morning with the children I wondered, For each of the varied faces gathered there, could there be a unique Jesus for him, Jesus for her? (Yes, there is!) And I wonder just how much more there is to Jesus and God's amazing restoration that I cannot or have not yet seen simply because of who I am in culture and history. The Great News of Christ is so expansive that its contours cannot be boxed or constrained or limited or defined. No crack caused by sin, no fear or stain or injustice or disorder will be left unturned, unredeemed!

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You can check out two essays of Ziya's here: The Persecuted Church: Fighting Cultural Alienation with Contextual Theology and this passionate plea, A Message to the West from the Persecuted Church.

You too, be ready!

The guys in our Bible study had decided a few weeks back that we'd like to take a few weeks' pause from 2 Corinthians and instead read some Advent sermons of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Last week I decided that this morning we'd read a sermon of his with Luke 12:35-40 serving as the text.

Last night I woke up at 4:45 because I heard someone walking around the foyer of our apartment, shut the door, then quickly run down the five flights of spiral stairs. Knowing that break-ins are very common here, I feared the worst. I quickly got up to check our house. All looked sound.

Right now we have a friend staying with us for a week, and looking at the couch where he was sleeping, it looked like he was still there; I could swear it was him I heard breathing as he slept. But even on the odd chance that it was he who had gotten up and left at such an early hour--he wasn't home when I got up at 7:30--the whole incident was a wake-up call (no pun intended).


Then this morning we read Luke 12:39-40, in which Jesus warns, "But be sure of this, that if the head of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have allowed his house to be broken into. You too, be ready; for the Son of Man is coming at an hour that you do not expect." Wow. Talk about bringing Scripture to light! Seriously, any day we could be going about our business, and Jesus will return, as suddenly and unexpectedly as whomever may or may not have been in my apartment last night. We will not be able to choose sides or shape up our lives then; we'll only be left in an unchosen reaction to his coming. How we live and what we choose now will determine whether we will at that day lift up our heads and see his coming as a thing of unimaginable joy, relief, and beauty; or else we'll melt in shame and fear, "our faces aflame" (Isaiah 13:8) in seeing Christ the King as a terror that humbles our worst of nightmares.

When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?

I read this interesting commentary of Catholic apologist Jacob Michael concerning the Christian versus secular views of the Christmas holiday, and I find it quite interesting and prophetic (although this really only works in branches of Christianity who celebrate Christmas on December 25, unlike our Orthodox brothers, who celebrate it on January 6).

". . . what Christians do (or should be doing!) during Advent and leading up to Christmas is a foreshadowing of what they will do during the days of their lives that lead up to the Second Coming; what non-Christians refuse to do during Advent, and put off until after Christmas, is precisely a foreshadowing of what they will experience at the Second Coming.

"We Christians are to prepare for the Coming of Christ before He actually comes -- and that Coming is symbolized and recalled at Christmas. Non-Christians miss this season of preparation, and then scramble for six days after the 25th to make their resolutions. By then, however, it's too late -- Christmas has come and gone. Our Lord has already made His visitation to the earth, and he has found them unprepared. This is precisely what will take place at the Second Coming, when those who have put off for their entire lives the necessary preparations will suddenly be scrambling to put their affairs in order. Unfortunately, by then it will have been too late, and there will be no time for repentance. The Second Coming will be less forgiving than the Incarnation. There will be no four-week warning period before the Second Coming, like we get during Advent. There will be no six-day period of grace after the Second Coming during which to make resolutions and self-examination, like the secular world does from Dec. 26 until Jan. 1."

How long, O Yahweh?

Last week I had the privilege of spending a few days in Prague, Czech Republic, with some friends. One day we visited the Jewish Quarter of this beautiful city of countless bridges. Next to a tiny, egregiously overcrowded burial plot -- the only land allotted to Jews for interment for three centuries -- stood the Pinkas Synagogue. On its interior walls were written the full name, birthdate, and date of death for all 77,000-plus known Czechoslovakian Jews who perished under the evils of the Third Reich from 1939-45. It was incredibly moving.*


During these past few weeks standing at the cusp of the Advent season -- not the Christmas season, which begins when the Light of God's Son enters our world late on Christmas Eve -- the narrative of Luke 1-2 has walked through the chambers of my mind, challenging me in what the Coming of the Messiah really means, and means to me. While at the synagogue those like the Virgin Mary, the priest Simeon, and the prophetess Anna came to mind, who were eagerly awaiting "the consolation of Israel" and "the redemption of Jerusalem" (Luke 2:25, 38). They may have been back within the physical boundaries of the Promised Land, but centuries of foreign occupation and oppression pointed them to the fact that they were still in exile, awaiting their homecoming in the kingdom of God. And something tells me that the erosion and pain the Jews have had to face is, really, that of all of us who belong to the new Israel of God by faith in his crucified and risen Messiah.

Am I so content with my life right now and what I have seen of God and his redemption that I no longer yearn with such pangs for our King's Second Coming? The Apostle Paul said that he groaned and longed for release from the pains of this life -- be they persecutions, illnesses, discouragement, slandering, his own sin -- into the freedom and glory of life in intimate, relational presence with his Lord when "what is mortal will be swallowed up by life" (2 Cor. 5:1-5; Rom. 8:18-25). Am I discontent with the now? Do we long with eager yearning for Christ to come, slay all enemies of his church, and make all things new? Is the news of a coming Savior the chief desire of ours?

O Mighty God, you have blessed us with your Son's coming to defeat sin and death and offer the promise of life and rescue to all who would flee to him. Free us from the love of the things of this world that cause us to sit in idleness and some discontent with the fact that it will all one day -- suddenly, like a thief -- be done away with, and you will be the sole source of joy to remain. May we learn to fix our hope fully on the grace that is to be ours at your revelation. Amen.

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*I thought it was especially poignant that on the synagogue's interior was written Lamentations 1:12: "Is it nothing to all you who pass by this way? Look and see if there is any pain like my pain which was severely dealt out to me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of His fierce anger."