There are likely many more Facebook sins, but the
following four seem most obvious:
1. Self-glorification
It’s is all-too-easy to go from simple,
honest sharing (which is quite innocent) to image-creating and
impression-making (which is not). Posts guilty of self-glorification have an
air of falseness to them. Not that they are inherently false. One might be sharing something that really happened, but it’s all
tailored to create a particular impression.
The motives behind such falsehood are
probably numerous, but it seems that one in particular predominates: social
competitiveness. The desire to feel superior has long marred human interactions,
and Facebook seems to amplify its ugliness.
To identify the sin of self-glorification
in oneself, it’s helpful to ask: Do I post in a manner that is aimed at
creating a certain impression? Or, do I count the number of “likes” I get from my
posts, and do I ever compare those numbers to other people’s posts? A “yes” answer
is a sign that one has given in to the sin of social competitiveness.
2. Hatred
If, after reading the above, you
say, “Yeah, I hate people who glorify themselves!”, you may struggle with the
second sinful use of Facebook: hatred. Even if hatred toward others is never
expressed, it is undoubtedly still sinful.
Ultimately, those who glorify
themselves and those who hate them for doing so are playing the same game. Each
wants to feel superior to others. The self-glorifying seek that feeling through
posts that put their supposed superiority on display. Meanwhile, the hateful
seek the same feeling by thinking ill of anyone whose posts bother them.
To identify the sin of hatred in
oneself, ask, Am I frequently angered by other people’s posts? Do I look down
on or speak ill of what other people have shared? A “yes” answer to either
question is a potential sign that one’s Facebook use is tainted with hatred.
3. Lust
Another sinful use of Facebook is
lusting after others. Such lust may be sexual, in which one is lusting after a
person. Or the lust may be covetous, in which one is lusting not after the
person, but after his/her life.
Either way, perusing Facebook
lustfully is deeply problematic. Even if one is unmarried, lust is not innocent.
It is rooted in the objectification of a human being – that is, turning someone
who is made in God’s image into a mere object for one’s gratification.
To determine whether one’s use of
Facebook is lustful, the following questions may be asked: Do I frequently find
myself looking at a particular person on Facebook? Do I look far-too-long at
his/her posts, or do I think way-too-much about them? Needless to say, “yes” =
bad.
4. Excess
This is (sadly) the most widespread
sin of Facebook use. Excessive time spent on social media is not merely a
morally neutral folly. It is, rather, a terrible sin against God and against
human community.
If one takes seriously that God’s
greatest commandments are to love him and love one another, then the sinfulness
of excessive Facebook use becomes apparent. Put simply, love requires being
available to the beloved. But how often does Facebook make one unavailable to
others and to God?
While it’s difficult to say what
constitutes excessiveness, the following questions may help: Do I spend more
time on Facebook than in face-to-face interactions? Do I find it difficult to close
my computer or put down my phone, even when a real (as opposed to virtual)
person is near? Just as above, a “yes” answer is one from which we need to
repent.
One Last Word
Ultimately, in all these cases there is a violation of love.
If one cannot use Facebook in a manner that does not violate love, then the
following admonition should be heeded: “If your right eye
causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you
lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And
if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is
better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into
hell.” (Matthew 5:29-30) In other words, get thee off of FB.
Lastly, I found the following video helpful
in curing my own sinfully excessive use of Facebook: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KskJgEwdFYc
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Friday, October 24, 2014
How to be Unhappy
In the Beatitudes, Jesus offers eight prescriptions for happiness (Greek makarios). Just in case anyone would prefer unhappiness, I thought I’d offer eight prescriptions in direct contradiction to our Lord. Instead of “Blessed are the…”, think “Miserable are the…”
Want to be miserable? Here’s how.
1. Set your heart on material things.
This is essential for anyone who wants to be unhappy. It doesn’t matter whether you’re rich, poor, or middle-class. You must cling to what you own, covet what you don’t, and complain frequently about the life you’ve been given. Eschew generosity and always live beyond your means. This is a sure path to perpetual discontent, which constitutes a fine form of unhappiness.
2. Always seek to be happy.
Yep, that’s right: a great way to make yourself unhappy is to always seek your own happiness. How so? Since worldly happiness comes and goes depending on your circumstances, when it goes (and believe me, it will go) you’ll be perfectly miserable about it. And even when happiness comes back, you’ll be unhappily clinging to something you know won’t last.
On a related note, do everything possible to avoid whatever would make you sad. Many things in this fallen world will lead you to mourn. Make sure to turn a blind eye to those things…or just be angry…or cynical…or numb. Anything but mourning.
3. Insist on getting your way.
Meekness-schmeekness. The truly miserable know that they must make demands on life and always get their way. Fight for your right – not just to party like the Beastie Boys, but for everything. Make sure everyone bows down to your personal preferences. This will ensure that you’re frustrated with anyone who doesn’t share your likings. And as we all know, frustrated people are also unhappy people.
4. Believe you’re morally superior to others.
Don’t think of yourself as needing to “hunger and thirst” for righteousness. You’re good the way you are. Own it! Remember: God grades on a curve and you’re getting an “A”, if only because everyone else is obviously getting an “F”. Look down on others and think of them as idiots. You’ll know you’ve arrived at the self-righteous mindset when you begin thinking the sins of others are worse than your own.
5. Withhold forgiveness.
If you forgive, then the person who sinned against you has won. Treat life as a courtroom wherein you are the righteous prosecutor and others are the guilty-until-proven-innocent defendants. Pay attention only to those things that will help you win your case. Ignore and downplay any good that people may do. Moreover, never forget about the wrongs people have done to you. Dwell on them, rehash what happened when you talk to others, and let righteous anger grow into moral indignation, and moral indignation into pure hatred. Misery guaranteed.
6. Have impure motives.
Pure in heart? Nah! Instead, pretend that your motive is noble and altruistic, but underneath stay committed to your own glory and comfort and pleasure. Do everything possible to dress up your agenda in Jesus clothes. That is, use carefully selected Bible verses to justify what you want. Make Jesus to support everything you support. You may carry unchristian attitudes and treat people in an unbiblical manner, but your Jesus clothes will ensure that you can easily justify yourself. Hypocrisy like this is one of the rare gifts of the truly unhappy.
7. Stir up controversy.
Peacemakers need not apply. If you want to be miserable, stir up strife between people. Gossip, backbite, and most of all, interpret other people’s actions in the worst possible light. When you get into conversations with people, speak ill of someone who’s not there. Put them on trial and get others to join you in the accusation (e.g. “Did you hear about what Suzy did? Can you believe that?!”). Never address someone’s sins directly with that person, but instead spread the news to everyone else. Sow seeds of discord, because such discord will give you a perverse pleasure that deep down is actually quite miserable.
8. Above all else, seek to be well-liked and accepted.
What’s strange about this one is that being well-liked often brings happiness. But make your desire to be well-liked reign supreme, and you’ll find yourself becoming quite unhappy. What’s key here is that you actually be willing to forsake the integrity of your soul in order to get people to like you. Fret and worry about what other people think of you, and do everything you can to be socially successful. Put the fleeting opinions of men over the eternal opinion of God. In doing so, your misery will soar to heights (or is it “sink to depths”?) hitherto unknown.
The Promise
So there it is: an eightfold path to misery. It’s worth mentioning that the misery of those who follow this advice will not be complete until Jesus returns at the End of the Age. Just like the joy of those who follow Christ, the misery of those who follow Satan is incomplete in this world. But don’t let doubts arise in your heart. If you’re following the above advice and becoming quite miserable from it, truly, truly, I say to you, someday you’ll reach the goal of total and eternal unhappiness.
Want to be miserable? Here’s how.
1. Set your heart on material things.
This is essential for anyone who wants to be unhappy. It doesn’t matter whether you’re rich, poor, or middle-class. You must cling to what you own, covet what you don’t, and complain frequently about the life you’ve been given. Eschew generosity and always live beyond your means. This is a sure path to perpetual discontent, which constitutes a fine form of unhappiness.
2. Always seek to be happy.
Yep, that’s right: a great way to make yourself unhappy is to always seek your own happiness. How so? Since worldly happiness comes and goes depending on your circumstances, when it goes (and believe me, it will go) you’ll be perfectly miserable about it. And even when happiness comes back, you’ll be unhappily clinging to something you know won’t last.
On a related note, do everything possible to avoid whatever would make you sad. Many things in this fallen world will lead you to mourn. Make sure to turn a blind eye to those things…or just be angry…or cynical…or numb. Anything but mourning.
3. Insist on getting your way.
Meekness-schmeekness. The truly miserable know that they must make demands on life and always get their way. Fight for your right – not just to party like the Beastie Boys, but for everything. Make sure everyone bows down to your personal preferences. This will ensure that you’re frustrated with anyone who doesn’t share your likings. And as we all know, frustrated people are also unhappy people.
4. Believe you’re morally superior to others.
Don’t think of yourself as needing to “hunger and thirst” for righteousness. You’re good the way you are. Own it! Remember: God grades on a curve and you’re getting an “A”, if only because everyone else is obviously getting an “F”. Look down on others and think of them as idiots. You’ll know you’ve arrived at the self-righteous mindset when you begin thinking the sins of others are worse than your own.
5. Withhold forgiveness.
If you forgive, then the person who sinned against you has won. Treat life as a courtroom wherein you are the righteous prosecutor and others are the guilty-until-proven-innocent defendants. Pay attention only to those things that will help you win your case. Ignore and downplay any good that people may do. Moreover, never forget about the wrongs people have done to you. Dwell on them, rehash what happened when you talk to others, and let righteous anger grow into moral indignation, and moral indignation into pure hatred. Misery guaranteed.
6. Have impure motives.
Pure in heart? Nah! Instead, pretend that your motive is noble and altruistic, but underneath stay committed to your own glory and comfort and pleasure. Do everything possible to dress up your agenda in Jesus clothes. That is, use carefully selected Bible verses to justify what you want. Make Jesus to support everything you support. You may carry unchristian attitudes and treat people in an unbiblical manner, but your Jesus clothes will ensure that you can easily justify yourself. Hypocrisy like this is one of the rare gifts of the truly unhappy.
7. Stir up controversy.
Peacemakers need not apply. If you want to be miserable, stir up strife between people. Gossip, backbite, and most of all, interpret other people’s actions in the worst possible light. When you get into conversations with people, speak ill of someone who’s not there. Put them on trial and get others to join you in the accusation (e.g. “Did you hear about what Suzy did? Can you believe that?!”). Never address someone’s sins directly with that person, but instead spread the news to everyone else. Sow seeds of discord, because such discord will give you a perverse pleasure that deep down is actually quite miserable.
8. Above all else, seek to be well-liked and accepted.
What’s strange about this one is that being well-liked often brings happiness. But make your desire to be well-liked reign supreme, and you’ll find yourself becoming quite unhappy. What’s key here is that you actually be willing to forsake the integrity of your soul in order to get people to like you. Fret and worry about what other people think of you, and do everything you can to be socially successful. Put the fleeting opinions of men over the eternal opinion of God. In doing so, your misery will soar to heights (or is it “sink to depths”?) hitherto unknown.
The Promise
So there it is: an eightfold path to misery. It’s worth mentioning that the misery of those who follow this advice will not be complete until Jesus returns at the End of the Age. Just like the joy of those who follow Christ, the misery of those who follow Satan is incomplete in this world. But don’t let doubts arise in your heart. If you’re following the above advice and becoming quite miserable from it, truly, truly, I say to you, someday you’ll reach the goal of total and eternal unhappiness.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
How to Dress for a Wedding
Okay, so this post is not really about what to wear to a
wedding. (This is a good thing. I have no fashion sense.) Rather, it’s about
the wedding attire in Jesus’ parable from Matthew 22. In that parable, a king has
a wedding celebration in which one particular guest is found not wearing the right clothes. The king's response to the man? “Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer
darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
Understanding the Symbols
Apparently the wedding garment is a pretty big deal. So what does all this mean? A few of the symbols in the parable are easy to understand; one in particular (the wedding garment) is not. First the easy ones.
The wedding celebration is the celebration of God’s people in his Kingdom. It’s a celebration marked by love and joy in God's presence. Love and joy are the two primary fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22), and thus they are the two primary characteristics of the Christian life both on earth and in heaven.
The king in the parable is God the Father, and the wedding feast is given for his Son, Jesus. The servants who invite all the guests are the apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers. (Ephesians 4:11)
Those who refuse the invitation are those who hear the message but whose worldly cares and concerns prevent them from coming. It’s worth noting that love and joy are being held out to them – life in God’s presence is being held out to them – but they’re too worried and distracted to lay hold of this gift.
These people who don't listen are definitely a sorry lot, but even worse are those who treat the servants shamefully and kill them. These are the persecutors of the Church’s messengers, and they cannot stand being told to repent from sin and believe in Christ. True, the messengers are inviting them to everlasting joy and love in God’s presence, but the persecutors hate being told what to do. And so they kill the messengers…some openly and crassly, others quietly and subtly.
The Wedding Garment
But what about that wedding garment? The man without the wedding garment somehow arrives at the wedding feast, but he doesn’t belong there. He is a Christian only in name, not in spirit.
The king is dismayed with this man’s presence and sends him into the outer darkness. The wedding garment matters greatly to the king. If one wants to enter the wedding feast (everlasting love and joy in God’s presence!), he must put on this garment.
One particular interpretation, prominent especially in Lutheran circles, is that the wedding garment is the imputed righteousness of Christ. According to this view, not much has changed underneath the garment – little to no sin has been uprooted, and the heart of the one wearing the garment looks very little like the heart of Christ.
In other words, the garment is a sham. Rather than uprooting sin and giving one a new heart and a new Spirit, the garment just covers up sin and lets the heart remain hard and rebellious. In theological terms, Christ’s righteousness is imputed to someone, but never infused into him.
But is this what the New Testament means by being “clothed with Christ”? By no means. Two passages are worth noting. First is Romans 13:14: “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” In other words, the necessary corollary to being clothed with Christ is self-denial. One cannot say he is “clothed with Christ” if he continues to give-in to sinful desires.
Second is Colossians 3:12: “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” This verse makes something clear: To “put on” the garment of Jesus Christ is to clothe oneself with his attributes. An unkind, impatient person cannot say he is “clothed in the righteousness of Christ.”
As these verses show, the wedding garment is no mere covering for sin. Rather, it is the displacement of sin by true righteousness – the infused righteousness of Christ, which is the Spirit of Christ, given to anyone who turns from sin and believes in him. This is what the garment-less man in the parable had not received.
The Real Issue of Interpretation: What is Faith?
The interpretation that treats the garment as nothing more than a covering for sin has one particular problem. Namely, it treats faith as separable from repentance and separable from love. Thus, one may think that the guests at the feast have put on the wedding garment through faith – but their faith somehow exists without repentance from sin and without the fruit of love.
But ask anyone who has ever walked in Christ: Have you tasted the joy of God’s Kingdom without repentance? Without love? It’s not possible. Faith without repentance and without love is no faith at all, but rather the dead faith rebuked by James and not worthy of the name.
The man who misses the joy of God’s Kingdom is the man who has failed to put on Jesus Christ – not in a merely external way, but in spirit and in truth. The proper wedding garment is the righteousness of Christ not as a figment of one’s mind (i.e. “Jesus covers my sin, so I’m good to go!”), but as a living person in one’s heart (i.e. “Jesus covers my sin, so I’ll repent and receive his Spirit!).
Only by crucifying the flesh and living in the Spirit of Christ does one bear the Spirit’s fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Such attributes are at home in God’s Kingdom, and the one whose life is about putting on those attributes will find himself a citizen there. He'll be a true guest at the wedding feast. And not just a guest, but a bride:
“I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ.” – 2 Corinthians 11:2
Understanding the Symbols
Apparently the wedding garment is a pretty big deal. So what does all this mean? A few of the symbols in the parable are easy to understand; one in particular (the wedding garment) is not. First the easy ones.
The wedding celebration is the celebration of God’s people in his Kingdom. It’s a celebration marked by love and joy in God's presence. Love and joy are the two primary fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22), and thus they are the two primary characteristics of the Christian life both on earth and in heaven.
The king in the parable is God the Father, and the wedding feast is given for his Son, Jesus. The servants who invite all the guests are the apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers. (Ephesians 4:11)
Those who refuse the invitation are those who hear the message but whose worldly cares and concerns prevent them from coming. It’s worth noting that love and joy are being held out to them – life in God’s presence is being held out to them – but they’re too worried and distracted to lay hold of this gift.
These people who don't listen are definitely a sorry lot, but even worse are those who treat the servants shamefully and kill them. These are the persecutors of the Church’s messengers, and they cannot stand being told to repent from sin and believe in Christ. True, the messengers are inviting them to everlasting joy and love in God’s presence, but the persecutors hate being told what to do. And so they kill the messengers…some openly and crassly, others quietly and subtly.
The Wedding Garment
But what about that wedding garment? The man without the wedding garment somehow arrives at the wedding feast, but he doesn’t belong there. He is a Christian only in name, not in spirit.
The king is dismayed with this man’s presence and sends him into the outer darkness. The wedding garment matters greatly to the king. If one wants to enter the wedding feast (everlasting love and joy in God’s presence!), he must put on this garment.
One particular interpretation, prominent especially in Lutheran circles, is that the wedding garment is the imputed righteousness of Christ. According to this view, not much has changed underneath the garment – little to no sin has been uprooted, and the heart of the one wearing the garment looks very little like the heart of Christ.
In other words, the garment is a sham. Rather than uprooting sin and giving one a new heart and a new Spirit, the garment just covers up sin and lets the heart remain hard and rebellious. In theological terms, Christ’s righteousness is imputed to someone, but never infused into him.
But is this what the New Testament means by being “clothed with Christ”? By no means. Two passages are worth noting. First is Romans 13:14: “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” In other words, the necessary corollary to being clothed with Christ is self-denial. One cannot say he is “clothed with Christ” if he continues to give-in to sinful desires.
Second is Colossians 3:12: “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” This verse makes something clear: To “put on” the garment of Jesus Christ is to clothe oneself with his attributes. An unkind, impatient person cannot say he is “clothed in the righteousness of Christ.”
As these verses show, the wedding garment is no mere covering for sin. Rather, it is the displacement of sin by true righteousness – the infused righteousness of Christ, which is the Spirit of Christ, given to anyone who turns from sin and believes in him. This is what the garment-less man in the parable had not received.
The Real Issue of Interpretation: What is Faith?
The interpretation that treats the garment as nothing more than a covering for sin has one particular problem. Namely, it treats faith as separable from repentance and separable from love. Thus, one may think that the guests at the feast have put on the wedding garment through faith – but their faith somehow exists without repentance from sin and without the fruit of love.
But ask anyone who has ever walked in Christ: Have you tasted the joy of God’s Kingdom without repentance? Without love? It’s not possible. Faith without repentance and without love is no faith at all, but rather the dead faith rebuked by James and not worthy of the name.
The man who misses the joy of God’s Kingdom is the man who has failed to put on Jesus Christ – not in a merely external way, but in spirit and in truth. The proper wedding garment is the righteousness of Christ not as a figment of one’s mind (i.e. “Jesus covers my sin, so I’m good to go!”), but as a living person in one’s heart (i.e. “Jesus covers my sin, so I’ll repent and receive his Spirit!).
Only by crucifying the flesh and living in the Spirit of Christ does one bear the Spirit’s fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Such attributes are at home in God’s Kingdom, and the one whose life is about putting on those attributes will find himself a citizen there. He'll be a true guest at the wedding feast. And not just a guest, but a bride:
“I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ.” – 2 Corinthians 11:2
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Four Teachings from Jesus that Amy-Jill Levine Gets Wrong
An article by Vanderbilt professor Amy-Jill Levine has been
popping up on my Facebook newsfeed lately. The title is catchy: “4 teachings
from Jesus that everybody gets wrong.” Levine claims to offer the right
interpretation to four of Jesus’ parables. She also claims that “everybody” has
wrongly interpreted these teachings – everybody, that is, except Levine
herself. (Gee thanks, right?)
Though this little blog is nowhere near as popular as CNN’s, I can’t help but offer a rebuttal of Levine’s interpretations. I’ll address each one in order.
1. The Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32)
According to Levine, Jesus’ parable about the prodigal son is not really about sin and forgiveness (i.e. our Father in heaven forgives those who repent of their sin and return home to Him). Rather, it is a parable “about counting, and making sure everyone counts.”
The father “counts” the younger son who returns. The older son “counts” himself when the father fails to invite him to the celebration. The moral of the story? Everyone counts.
According to Levine, we can reach this conclusion when we consider the parables preceding this one, namely the Parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin. Those parables are not about the “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents,” but about making sure each and every person counts.
The problem? Jesus himself says those parables are about the “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.” But Levine attributes Jesus’ words to “the evangelist” (presumably Luke) and then goes on to dismiss them as an incorrect interpretation.
If one does not attend closely to Levine’s argument, it’s easy to miss what she’s doing here. But make no mistake, she is taking Jesus’ interpretation of his own parable, attributing that interpretation to “the evangelist,” and then saying “the evangelist” got it wrong.
If, contrary to Levine, we believe those words (about “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents”), then the Parable of the Prodigal Son is again about God our Father’s graciousness toward repentant sinners. It is again about not begrudging God’s grace toward our brother who has sinned. And it is again about the joy of going from death to life, from lost to found.
2. The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37)
According to Levine, this parable is not really about loving our neighbor. Nor is it about the fact that our neighbor is each and every person we come across, no matter how unlovely he or she may be.
Nope, this parable is about how “our enemy may be the very person who will save us.” According to Levine, our enemy is represented by the Samaritan and “we are the person in the ditch.”
Never mind that Jesus concludes the parable, “Go and do likewise.” Though Jesus himself wants to interpret the parable as a lesson about who our neighbor is (everyone!) and how to treat him (love!), Levine prefers her own interpretation. After all, through Levine’s scholarly eyes, “we can see the import of this parable for the Israeli/Palestinian crisis.”
Um, really? I have no problem putting ourselves in the place of the man in the ditch, but if we’re going to do that, then we ought to interpret the Good Samaritan as Jesus. He’s the one who bandages up the wounded (sinners!), pours on him oil (the Holy Spirit!) and wine (the Eucharist!), brings him to an inn (the Church!), and tells the innkeeper (the pastor!) to take care of the now-recovering man. Sin has ruined this man; Christ has saved him and put him on the way to recovery.
And yet, even if we put ourselves in the place of the man in the ditch, we cannot stop there. Jesus’ desire is that we, in turn, emulate the Good Samaritan. Levine’s intentions aren’t malicious, but somehow she misses the command to “go and do likewise.” We are to be like the Good Samaritan, loving and caring for each and every person we come across.
3. The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16)
The workers work for various periods of time, the master pays them all the same wage, and then the longer-working workers complain. In the conclusion, the master tells them not to begrudge his generosity.
According to Levine, this parable is not about God’s grace toward those who’ve served him only a short period. It’s “not a parable about salvation in the afterlife but about economics in present.”
Okay, I get it: Levine wants people to have jobs and also thinks a fair wage is important. I agree. However, that’s not what this parable is about. The master is not just some random employer, and the vineyard is not just a random place of work. “Master” literally means “lord,” and “his vineyard” is a long-used metaphor for his Kingdom. (See Isaiah 5:7.)
Jesus is indeed teaching about the economy, but not the economy of mammon Levine has in mind. He’s teaching about the economy of grace, in which each person, no matter how long he’s labored to walk in the ways of the Lord, receives the same grace. “Well done good and faithful servant” will be said just as much to the thief on the cross as to John of Patmos.
Not convinced? Apply Levine’s method of interpretation to the Parable of Talents in Mathew 25:14-30. In that parable, the man who turns his five talents into five more talents is lauded by his master. Likewise with the man who turns his two talents into two more. But then there’s the man who hid his one talent in the ground. He’s called a wicked and lazy servant, and his talent is taken away from him.
The conclusion? “To all who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” (Matthew 25:29) Would Levine say that this, too, should guide our economic policies? Somehow I doubt it. Again, lest we fall into downright absurd interpretations and applications, we must read these parables as parables of God’s Kingdom. They are about economies not of mammon, but of grace.
4. The Parable of the Pearl of Great Price
Levine points out that this parable never identifies what the pearl of great price actually is. And so, she assumes that the pearl is whatever each person wants it to be. She asks, “What if the parable challenges us to determine our own pearl of great price?”
Yeah, what if? What if I determine that my pearl of great price is sex, or money, or fame? Many people have thought that some created thing is the pearl that will fulfill them. But to turn a created thing into one’s “ultimate concern” (Levine’s language, perhaps borrowed from Paul Tillich) is called idolatry. And in the end, all idols fall apart and break the hearts of those who worship them.
There is only one pearl of great price, and his name is Jesus. To know his grace and to have his Spirit is to lay hold of what really matters: the love of God. That alone is worth forsaking everything for. Anything less would be absurd.
A Final Word
Ultimately, it seems Levine wants to discount the possibility of these parables being about God and about his Kingdom of Heaven. In fact, she makes the same a-theistic move in all four of her interpretations, leaving each parable bereft of God and void of anything supernatural.
Those who would follow Levine cannot do so without jettisoning the notion of “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.” They must jettison the all-too-obvious reality of sin, the all-too-necessary call to repentance, and the all-too-hard-to-believe promise of grace.
Maybe I’m wrong or just not scholarly enough, maybe I’m Levine’s “everybody”, but I believe in all those things that her article wants to dismiss. That is to say, I believe in the God whose grace saves sinners from ruin and whose Son is Jesus.
Though this little blog is nowhere near as popular as CNN’s, I can’t help but offer a rebuttal of Levine’s interpretations. I’ll address each one in order.
1. The Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32)
According to Levine, Jesus’ parable about the prodigal son is not really about sin and forgiveness (i.e. our Father in heaven forgives those who repent of their sin and return home to Him). Rather, it is a parable “about counting, and making sure everyone counts.”
The father “counts” the younger son who returns. The older son “counts” himself when the father fails to invite him to the celebration. The moral of the story? Everyone counts.
According to Levine, we can reach this conclusion when we consider the parables preceding this one, namely the Parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin. Those parables are not about the “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents,” but about making sure each and every person counts.
The problem? Jesus himself says those parables are about the “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.” But Levine attributes Jesus’ words to “the evangelist” (presumably Luke) and then goes on to dismiss them as an incorrect interpretation.
If one does not attend closely to Levine’s argument, it’s easy to miss what she’s doing here. But make no mistake, she is taking Jesus’ interpretation of his own parable, attributing that interpretation to “the evangelist,” and then saying “the evangelist” got it wrong.
If, contrary to Levine, we believe those words (about “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents”), then the Parable of the Prodigal Son is again about God our Father’s graciousness toward repentant sinners. It is again about not begrudging God’s grace toward our brother who has sinned. And it is again about the joy of going from death to life, from lost to found.
2. The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37)
According to Levine, this parable is not really about loving our neighbor. Nor is it about the fact that our neighbor is each and every person we come across, no matter how unlovely he or she may be.
Nope, this parable is about how “our enemy may be the very person who will save us.” According to Levine, our enemy is represented by the Samaritan and “we are the person in the ditch.”
Never mind that Jesus concludes the parable, “Go and do likewise.” Though Jesus himself wants to interpret the parable as a lesson about who our neighbor is (everyone!) and how to treat him (love!), Levine prefers her own interpretation. After all, through Levine’s scholarly eyes, “we can see the import of this parable for the Israeli/Palestinian crisis.”
Um, really? I have no problem putting ourselves in the place of the man in the ditch, but if we’re going to do that, then we ought to interpret the Good Samaritan as Jesus. He’s the one who bandages up the wounded (sinners!), pours on him oil (the Holy Spirit!) and wine (the Eucharist!), brings him to an inn (the Church!), and tells the innkeeper (the pastor!) to take care of the now-recovering man. Sin has ruined this man; Christ has saved him and put him on the way to recovery.
And yet, even if we put ourselves in the place of the man in the ditch, we cannot stop there. Jesus’ desire is that we, in turn, emulate the Good Samaritan. Levine’s intentions aren’t malicious, but somehow she misses the command to “go and do likewise.” We are to be like the Good Samaritan, loving and caring for each and every person we come across.
3. The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16)
The workers work for various periods of time, the master pays them all the same wage, and then the longer-working workers complain. In the conclusion, the master tells them not to begrudge his generosity.
According to Levine, this parable is not about God’s grace toward those who’ve served him only a short period. It’s “not a parable about salvation in the afterlife but about economics in present.”
Okay, I get it: Levine wants people to have jobs and also thinks a fair wage is important. I agree. However, that’s not what this parable is about. The master is not just some random employer, and the vineyard is not just a random place of work. “Master” literally means “lord,” and “his vineyard” is a long-used metaphor for his Kingdom. (See Isaiah 5:7.)
Jesus is indeed teaching about the economy, but not the economy of mammon Levine has in mind. He’s teaching about the economy of grace, in which each person, no matter how long he’s labored to walk in the ways of the Lord, receives the same grace. “Well done good and faithful servant” will be said just as much to the thief on the cross as to John of Patmos.
Not convinced? Apply Levine’s method of interpretation to the Parable of Talents in Mathew 25:14-30. In that parable, the man who turns his five talents into five more talents is lauded by his master. Likewise with the man who turns his two talents into two more. But then there’s the man who hid his one talent in the ground. He’s called a wicked and lazy servant, and his talent is taken away from him.
The conclusion? “To all who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” (Matthew 25:29) Would Levine say that this, too, should guide our economic policies? Somehow I doubt it. Again, lest we fall into downright absurd interpretations and applications, we must read these parables as parables of God’s Kingdom. They are about economies not of mammon, but of grace.
4. The Parable of the Pearl of Great Price
Levine points out that this parable never identifies what the pearl of great price actually is. And so, she assumes that the pearl is whatever each person wants it to be. She asks, “What if the parable challenges us to determine our own pearl of great price?”
Yeah, what if? What if I determine that my pearl of great price is sex, or money, or fame? Many people have thought that some created thing is the pearl that will fulfill them. But to turn a created thing into one’s “ultimate concern” (Levine’s language, perhaps borrowed from Paul Tillich) is called idolatry. And in the end, all idols fall apart and break the hearts of those who worship them.
There is only one pearl of great price, and his name is Jesus. To know his grace and to have his Spirit is to lay hold of what really matters: the love of God. That alone is worth forsaking everything for. Anything less would be absurd.
A Final Word
Ultimately, it seems Levine wants to discount the possibility of these parables being about God and about his Kingdom of Heaven. In fact, she makes the same a-theistic move in all four of her interpretations, leaving each parable bereft of God and void of anything supernatural.
Those who would follow Levine cannot do so without jettisoning the notion of “joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.” They must jettison the all-too-obvious reality of sin, the all-too-necessary call to repentance, and the all-too-hard-to-believe promise of grace.
Maybe I’m wrong or just not scholarly enough, maybe I’m Levine’s “everybody”, but I believe in all those things that her article wants to dismiss. That is to say, I believe in the God whose grace saves sinners from ruin and whose Son is Jesus.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Jonah's Dis-ordered Heart
An Ugly Ending
The final chapter of Jonah is not a pretty one. First Jonah is upset about God’s graciousness toward the Ninevites (a people who had done him wrong, but now repented of their sin), and then he is “angry enough to die” when God destroys a bush that had shaded Jonah from discomfort. Jonah would have preferred the exact opposite of what God was doing – that is, he would have preferred that the bush be spared and the Ninevites destroyed.
The Lord’s response to Jonah pinpoints the prophet’s error: “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?” (Jonah 4:10-11)
Jonah’s Sin
Jonah’s sin was to love things more than he loved people. Things are temporary and relatively unimportant; people are eternal and thus have eternal significance. Nevertheless, Jonah’s heart was set on the temporary things that brought him comfort, rather than the eternal people that brought him discomfort.
This dis-ordering of values is common to man and makes him a hard-hearted creature. More than that, it is contrary to God’s original order. To love things (no matter how lovely they may be) more than one loves people (no matter how unlovely they may be) is to flip the order that God has ordained from the beginning. God created man to love people and use things; a dis-ordered heart will do the opposite, loving things and using people.
Imitating God
God himself loves people above all else. Man was created to reflect God, which is to say that man was created to love people above all else. Thus, the love that one has for temporary things must be subordinate and subservient to his love for people.
This is the order God has ordained, and it is also the order the Spirit of Christ restores when he gives new birth to those who believe. That new birth in the Spirit is the beginning of a transformation, one that needs constant exhortation. And so, this post will conclude with just that:
“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God…Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” (Ephesians 5:1-2, Romans 13:14)
The final chapter of Jonah is not a pretty one. First Jonah is upset about God’s graciousness toward the Ninevites (a people who had done him wrong, but now repented of their sin), and then he is “angry enough to die” when God destroys a bush that had shaded Jonah from discomfort. Jonah would have preferred the exact opposite of what God was doing – that is, he would have preferred that the bush be spared and the Ninevites destroyed.
The Lord’s response to Jonah pinpoints the prophet’s error: “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?” (Jonah 4:10-11)
Jonah’s Sin
Jonah’s sin was to love things more than he loved people. Things are temporary and relatively unimportant; people are eternal and thus have eternal significance. Nevertheless, Jonah’s heart was set on the temporary things that brought him comfort, rather than the eternal people that brought him discomfort.
This dis-ordering of values is common to man and makes him a hard-hearted creature. More than that, it is contrary to God’s original order. To love things (no matter how lovely they may be) more than one loves people (no matter how unlovely they may be) is to flip the order that God has ordained from the beginning. God created man to love people and use things; a dis-ordered heart will do the opposite, loving things and using people.
Imitating God
God himself loves people above all else. Man was created to reflect God, which is to say that man was created to love people above all else. Thus, the love that one has for temporary things must be subordinate and subservient to his love for people.
This is the order God has ordained, and it is also the order the Spirit of Christ restores when he gives new birth to those who believe. That new birth in the Spirit is the beginning of a transformation, one that needs constant exhortation. And so, this post will conclude with just that:
“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God…Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” (Ephesians 5:1-2, Romans 13:14)
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Love and Law: Friends or Enemies?
Love and the
Commandments
Does love nullify God’s moral law? Many think so. The argument goes like this: “Jesus shows us that love is what matters, not the commandments. Therefore, just love people and forget the rules.”
But is that true? Does the New Testament ever assert such a thing? In some churches, this Sunday’s reading from Romans 13:8-10 might be used to answer “yes” to those questions. The passage reads thusly:
“Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,’ and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.”
Something to Ask Oneself
It’s easy to use St. Paul’s words to justify the nullification of God’s moral law, but such an interpretation is patently wrong. To make this clear, one should ask oneself, “Can I dishonor my parents (Commandment 4), murder someone (Commandment 5), commit adultery (Commandment 6), steal from someone (Commandment 7), bear false witness against someone (Commandment 8), and covet someone’s wife and possessions (Commandments 9-10), and then still say, ‘I am walking in love toward people.’”?
In the words of Romans, by no means! One cannot break the commandments and act as if he is still walking in love. In fact, the commandments are the very content of love. They show the one who wants to love his neighbor what not to do to him. (This includes acts of sexual immorality, regardless of how “loving” one thinks such acts may be.) Ultimately, as the above question shows, violations of God’s moral law cannot be called love.
The Nature of Summaries
Another way to arrive at a correct interpretation of Romans is to consider the nature of summaries. It’s written in Romans 13:9 that the commandments are “summed up in this word: ‘Love you neighbor as yourself.’” The Greek word translated “summed up” is anakephalaiosis, which literally means “recapitulate.” So what does a recapitulation or a summary do? Put simply, it distills the message or the plot of a larger body of literature. Notably, a true summary does not contradict that which it summarizes.
It would be awfully strange if the so-called summary of a story contradicted the story itself. Say the story was about a child who ran away from home but was sought after and found by his father (hooray!), but the summary says the child had neither home nor father but instead just roamed the world aimlessly (lame). The summary would be contradicting the story, and thus would be no true summary at all.
Those who would say that love can contradict God’s commandments are like those who would write a summary that contradicts a story. Try as they may, their summary will never be faithful to the story itself. They may get the characters’ names right, and they may even use the word “love” till blue in the face, but the plot will have been altered drastically, and the biblical meaning of “love” will have been misconstrued to the point of unrecognizability. The child who had run away from home will still be lost, the father who saves him never even mentioned.
Final Word
If one wants to know what love looks like, he ought to dwell on the commandments. As Martin Luther wrote in his Large Catechism, “These are the fount from which all good works must flow.” Even better than dwelling on the commandments, one ought to dwell on the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), in which Jesus shows the much deeper meaning of the commandments. Or even better still, one ought to dwell on Jesus himself, who is the embodiment of love and the incarnation of God's Torah. He came not to abolish the law or the prophets, but to fulfill. (Matthew 5:18) And so his words deserve the final word:
“Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:19-20)
Does love nullify God’s moral law? Many think so. The argument goes like this: “Jesus shows us that love is what matters, not the commandments. Therefore, just love people and forget the rules.”
But is that true? Does the New Testament ever assert such a thing? In some churches, this Sunday’s reading from Romans 13:8-10 might be used to answer “yes” to those questions. The passage reads thusly:
“Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,’ and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.”
Something to Ask Oneself
It’s easy to use St. Paul’s words to justify the nullification of God’s moral law, but such an interpretation is patently wrong. To make this clear, one should ask oneself, “Can I dishonor my parents (Commandment 4), murder someone (Commandment 5), commit adultery (Commandment 6), steal from someone (Commandment 7), bear false witness against someone (Commandment 8), and covet someone’s wife and possessions (Commandments 9-10), and then still say, ‘I am walking in love toward people.’”?
In the words of Romans, by no means! One cannot break the commandments and act as if he is still walking in love. In fact, the commandments are the very content of love. They show the one who wants to love his neighbor what not to do to him. (This includes acts of sexual immorality, regardless of how “loving” one thinks such acts may be.) Ultimately, as the above question shows, violations of God’s moral law cannot be called love.
The Nature of Summaries
Another way to arrive at a correct interpretation of Romans is to consider the nature of summaries. It’s written in Romans 13:9 that the commandments are “summed up in this word: ‘Love you neighbor as yourself.’” The Greek word translated “summed up” is anakephalaiosis, which literally means “recapitulate.” So what does a recapitulation or a summary do? Put simply, it distills the message or the plot of a larger body of literature. Notably, a true summary does not contradict that which it summarizes.
It would be awfully strange if the so-called summary of a story contradicted the story itself. Say the story was about a child who ran away from home but was sought after and found by his father (hooray!), but the summary says the child had neither home nor father but instead just roamed the world aimlessly (lame). The summary would be contradicting the story, and thus would be no true summary at all.
Those who would say that love can contradict God’s commandments are like those who would write a summary that contradicts a story. Try as they may, their summary will never be faithful to the story itself. They may get the characters’ names right, and they may even use the word “love” till blue in the face, but the plot will have been altered drastically, and the biblical meaning of “love” will have been misconstrued to the point of unrecognizability. The child who had run away from home will still be lost, the father who saves him never even mentioned.
Final Word
If one wants to know what love looks like, he ought to dwell on the commandments. As Martin Luther wrote in his Large Catechism, “These are the fount from which all good works must flow.” Even better than dwelling on the commandments, one ought to dwell on the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), in which Jesus shows the much deeper meaning of the commandments. Or even better still, one ought to dwell on Jesus himself, who is the embodiment of love and the incarnation of God's Torah. He came not to abolish the law or the prophets, but to fulfill. (Matthew 5:18) And so his words deserve the final word:
“Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:19-20)
Friday, August 29, 2014
Are Christians Passive-Aggressive?
Defining "Passive-Aggressive"
Are Christians passive-aggressive? Quite often, yes. A better question, though, is whether Christians are called to be passive-aggressive. Does God's Word actually encourage passive-aggressiveness?
Before answering, it’s good to define one’s terms. By “passive-aggressive” I mean outward passivity with inward aggressiveness. Stated more fully, passive-aggressiveness is when one pretends to be passive on the outside (i.e. being “nice”, maintaining civility), all the while he/she is being quite aggressive on the inside (i.e. harboring feelings of anger or resentment). Our outward actions quite often disguise our inward attitudes. Someone who is being passive-aggressive is playing this very game, hiding his hatred under the guise of civility and niceness.
Does Romans 12:19-20 Commend Passive-Aggressiveness?
So that is passive-aggressiveness, and now back to the question: Are Christians called to be passive-aggressive? It seems quite possibly so. Romans 12:19-20 is particularly alarming for those of us who loathe passive-aggressiveness: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’”
Is God’s Word really encouraging passive-aggressiveness here? What kind of disposition toward others – and more especially toward those who wrong us – are these verses calling for?
It’s not unusual for these verses to be used as justification for hating and resenting those who wrong us. As long as our inner feelings and thoughts don’t result in outward action, we’re still acting Christianly, right? Passive-aggressive Christians think it’s okay to wish for the destruction of others, insofar as we stay civil on the outside. We’re waiting, quite eagerly, for the vengeance of God to destroy those who sin against us.
So much for praying “forgive us our trespasses, in the same way we forgive those who trespass against us,” which leads to my next point.
Passive-Aggressiveness is Unchristian
In spite of its prevalence, the passive-aggressive interpretation of Romans 12:19-20 is quite patently wrong. To make this clear, we need only to recall Christ’s attitude toward his executioners: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) Or his teaching: “First clean the inside of the cup and the plate, that the outside also may be clean…You are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness.” (Matthew 23:26, 27)
Passive-aggressiveness – outward civility masking inward bitterness – is simply unchristian. When Romans speaks of heaping burning coals on our enemy’s head, it is expressing hope not that our enemy will be destroyed, but that he will no longer be an enemy – indeed, that we will forgive and be reconciled to one another. That is what God desires: “As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live.” (Ezekiel 33:11) Reconciliation is what God desires, and it’s what his people desire.
Three Possible Responses to Sin
At one time or another, every person suffers because of the sins of others. There are three ways of responding to such suffering. The barbarous seek vengeance on those responsible. The passive-aggressive, meanwhile, remain outwardly civil, but inwardly resent and hate those who do them wrong. Then there is the Christian, who, just like his Lord, loves his enemy. He is patient and kind even and especially toward the most insufferable people.
All of that is to say, the Christian suffers not just because of the sins of others, but also for the sins of others. Christ suffered in the same way: not just because of sinners, but for them. In doing so, some of his enemies (we ourselves were once his enemies!) repented of their sin. All were forgiven; some repented and received forgiveness.
The Christian may hope, no, he must hope that his enemies, perhaps through his own graciousness toward them, may someday turn from their sin and receive the forgiveness that the Christian wants nothing more than to give. And the Christian hopes for this not so that he will be spared the burden of difficult people, but rather that difficult people will taste the blessedness of life in Christ. This is the way of love, and love – not barbarism, not passive-aggressiveness, but love – is the mark of a Christian:
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you." - Luke 6:27-28
Are Christians passive-aggressive? Quite often, yes. A better question, though, is whether Christians are called to be passive-aggressive. Does God's Word actually encourage passive-aggressiveness?
Before answering, it’s good to define one’s terms. By “passive-aggressive” I mean outward passivity with inward aggressiveness. Stated more fully, passive-aggressiveness is when one pretends to be passive on the outside (i.e. being “nice”, maintaining civility), all the while he/she is being quite aggressive on the inside (i.e. harboring feelings of anger or resentment). Our outward actions quite often disguise our inward attitudes. Someone who is being passive-aggressive is playing this very game, hiding his hatred under the guise of civility and niceness.
Does Romans 12:19-20 Commend Passive-Aggressiveness?
So that is passive-aggressiveness, and now back to the question: Are Christians called to be passive-aggressive? It seems quite possibly so. Romans 12:19-20 is particularly alarming for those of us who loathe passive-aggressiveness: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’”
Is God’s Word really encouraging passive-aggressiveness here? What kind of disposition toward others – and more especially toward those who wrong us – are these verses calling for?
It’s not unusual for these verses to be used as justification for hating and resenting those who wrong us. As long as our inner feelings and thoughts don’t result in outward action, we’re still acting Christianly, right? Passive-aggressive Christians think it’s okay to wish for the destruction of others, insofar as we stay civil on the outside. We’re waiting, quite eagerly, for the vengeance of God to destroy those who sin against us.
So much for praying “forgive us our trespasses, in the same way we forgive those who trespass against us,” which leads to my next point.
Passive-Aggressiveness is Unchristian
In spite of its prevalence, the passive-aggressive interpretation of Romans 12:19-20 is quite patently wrong. To make this clear, we need only to recall Christ’s attitude toward his executioners: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) Or his teaching: “First clean the inside of the cup and the plate, that the outside also may be clean…You are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness.” (Matthew 23:26, 27)
Passive-aggressiveness – outward civility masking inward bitterness – is simply unchristian. When Romans speaks of heaping burning coals on our enemy’s head, it is expressing hope not that our enemy will be destroyed, but that he will no longer be an enemy – indeed, that we will forgive and be reconciled to one another. That is what God desires: “As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live.” (Ezekiel 33:11) Reconciliation is what God desires, and it’s what his people desire.
Three Possible Responses to Sin
At one time or another, every person suffers because of the sins of others. There are three ways of responding to such suffering. The barbarous seek vengeance on those responsible. The passive-aggressive, meanwhile, remain outwardly civil, but inwardly resent and hate those who do them wrong. Then there is the Christian, who, just like his Lord, loves his enemy. He is patient and kind even and especially toward the most insufferable people.
All of that is to say, the Christian suffers not just because of the sins of others, but also for the sins of others. Christ suffered in the same way: not just because of sinners, but for them. In doing so, some of his enemies (we ourselves were once his enemies!) repented of their sin. All were forgiven; some repented and received forgiveness.
The Christian may hope, no, he must hope that his enemies, perhaps through his own graciousness toward them, may someday turn from their sin and receive the forgiveness that the Christian wants nothing more than to give. And the Christian hopes for this not so that he will be spared the burden of difficult people, but rather that difficult people will taste the blessedness of life in Christ. This is the way of love, and love – not barbarism, not passive-aggressiveness, but love – is the mark of a Christian:
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you." - Luke 6:27-28
Friday, August 22, 2014
Flesh and Blood Has Not Revealed This
“You Are the Christ”
This Sunday, many will hear the gospel reading in which Peter identifies Jesus as "the Christ, the Son of the living God." (Matthew 16:13-20) Peter’s confession is not mere words on his lips, but rather a conviction deep in his heart. "Out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:45)
What, then, is the conviction of Peter’s heart? What does it mean to believe that Jesus is "the Christ"? It means believing he is the true Savior from sin, death, and the devil. These three are the "Unholy Trinity" that ruin life, and from which man needs salvation. The world proposes a variety of functional saviors, created things that will somehow fulfill our deepest longings, save us, and make life truly blessed. (The advertisement industry is expert at this.) Peter’s conviction is that none but Jesus is Savior. He’s the one and only Christ, in whom man’s deepest desires find their satisfaction.
There is in the human heart a certain inviolable law. Namely, the human heart most loves whatever is most lovely to it. This same law can be extrapolated thusly: The human heart trusts that which it esteems most trustworthy, desires that which it believes most desirable, and worships and serves that which it finds most good and glorious. Peter’s confession indicates that his heart has grasped the following truth: Jesus is incomparably lovelier and more trustworthy, desirable, good, and glorious than anything else. That is to say, life in Jesus – walking in his ways – is incomparably better than anything the world has to offer.*
*The one who really believes this will live accordingly. Contrariwise, the one who doesn’t live accordingly thereby shows that he does not believe.
“Flesh and Blood Has Not Revealed This”
How did Peter reach this conviction? Jesus says, “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” Despite Jesus’ statement, people have long tried to arrive at faith through flesh and blood efforts. Two particular ways have predominated.
First, there is the flesh and blood attempt to arrive at faith through eloquent speech and argumentation. (For the record, I am much more prone to this kind of “flesh and blood” attempt than to the next.) If only our preachers were more impressive, or our Christian books (including the Bible!) more intellectually convincing, then we’d all believe that Jesus is the Christ. The result of such thinking? We chase only the most eloquent preachers, rather than the most faithful. And we read book after book in order to convince ourselves that Jesus is the Christ, and yet we still never arrive at such faith.
St. Anselm spoke of faith seeking understanding, but many reverse the order as if faith will be ours once we understand. This never works. Faith is no mere assent of the intellect, but a conviction written on the heart. Whereas intellectual assent can exist solely in the head and can coincide with persistent disobedience, faith cannot. Faith makes fundamental changes to the human will so that it delights in obeying God. No human wisdom can achieve this.
The second “flesh and blood” attempt to produce conversion is through emotional experience. The thinking goes like this: If only we had a certain kind of religious experience, something in which we felt emotional about Jesus, then we’d believe in him and follow his ways. And so, Christians of this bent are always pursuing a religious experience that will produce a certain feeling in them. Worship services and prayer are engaged in for the sake of this feeling, and if the feeling isn’t found, then disappointment ensues. And even if the feeling is found, it never lasts. True faith abides; emotional experiences do not.
While the first “flesh and blood” attempt thinks of faith as mere intellectual assent, the second defines faith as a feeling. Neither is right. Yes, the gospel is intellectually and emotionally persuasive, and faith in Christ does indeed change the intellect and forms one’s feelings. Nevertheless, such intellectual and emotional changes are not faith itself. They are simply its byproducts, and the one who pursues only the byproducts of faith is sinfully mistaken.
One may pursue the most eloquent preachers and books, or the most emotional worship services and service opportunities, but such a man will not be pursuing Jesus. He will have made a god out of his intellect or his emotions, and therefore the true God, Jesus, will remain elusive to him.
“But My Father Who is in Heaven”
Peter’s conviction was wrought in him not by flesh and blood, but by the Spirit of God. The kind of faith that changes the heart and gives rise to discipleship is something God himself works inside a man. 2nd Corinthians 4:6 is key here: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” This knowledge of God’s glory in the face of Jesus Christ – this belief that life in Christ is truly better than anything else – is arrived at not through the flesh and blood efforts of man, but through the revelation of God. It is his gift to those whom he has chosen; it is his work inside his people.
One caveat, however: That does not mean one can go along his merry way and expect to somehow arrive at faith. There is much talk in the Church about faith being a gift of God that we do nothing to earn. That’s true so far as it goes, but it’s also true that faith doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. God has ordained a certain way in which people come to faith. Namely, faith comes through hearing the Word of Christ. (Romans 10:17)
That means would-be Christians must hear God’s Word. It is no accident that Christ says, “Take care then how you hear.” (Luke 8:18) In order for the obedience of faith to come about, it is crucial that one listen attentively and submissively to God’s Word – whether his Word is written, preached and taught, or visible (i.e. the Sacraments).
Plant and Water Prayerfully
Perhaps the best analogy for understanding this is 1st Corinthians 3:6: “I planted the Seed (God’s Word), Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” The duty of Christians is to plant and water the Seed. But in the end, only God can give the growth. That means all planting and watering – all preaching, teaching, listening, learning, Bible-studies, worship services, any and all kinds of spiritual disciplines – must be done prayerfully. They must be done, that is, in complete reliance on and openness to the Spirit of God. Only he can produce true growth in Christ.
A Final Word
Peter’s confession – “You are the Christ” – signified his faith in Christ. Yes, his faith was weak and he was prone to lapses. (Read just a few verses after the passage being addressed here. It’s not pretty.) Nevertheless, Peter had begun to believe in Jesus and be changed by him. This faith was not an achievement, whether intellectual, emotional, or otherwise. No, Peter’s faith was wrought in him by the Spirit of God through the hearing of the Word of God. He heard the Word, and he received it with the obedience of faith. Such is the way of all God’s people right down to this very day.
This Sunday, many will hear the gospel reading in which Peter identifies Jesus as "the Christ, the Son of the living God." (Matthew 16:13-20) Peter’s confession is not mere words on his lips, but rather a conviction deep in his heart. "Out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:45)
What, then, is the conviction of Peter’s heart? What does it mean to believe that Jesus is "the Christ"? It means believing he is the true Savior from sin, death, and the devil. These three are the "Unholy Trinity" that ruin life, and from which man needs salvation. The world proposes a variety of functional saviors, created things that will somehow fulfill our deepest longings, save us, and make life truly blessed. (The advertisement industry is expert at this.) Peter’s conviction is that none but Jesus is Savior. He’s the one and only Christ, in whom man’s deepest desires find their satisfaction.
There is in the human heart a certain inviolable law. Namely, the human heart most loves whatever is most lovely to it. This same law can be extrapolated thusly: The human heart trusts that which it esteems most trustworthy, desires that which it believes most desirable, and worships and serves that which it finds most good and glorious. Peter’s confession indicates that his heart has grasped the following truth: Jesus is incomparably lovelier and more trustworthy, desirable, good, and glorious than anything else. That is to say, life in Jesus – walking in his ways – is incomparably better than anything the world has to offer.*
*The one who really believes this will live accordingly. Contrariwise, the one who doesn’t live accordingly thereby shows that he does not believe.
“Flesh and Blood Has Not Revealed This”
How did Peter reach this conviction? Jesus says, “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” Despite Jesus’ statement, people have long tried to arrive at faith through flesh and blood efforts. Two particular ways have predominated.
First, there is the flesh and blood attempt to arrive at faith through eloquent speech and argumentation. (For the record, I am much more prone to this kind of “flesh and blood” attempt than to the next.) If only our preachers were more impressive, or our Christian books (including the Bible!) more intellectually convincing, then we’d all believe that Jesus is the Christ. The result of such thinking? We chase only the most eloquent preachers, rather than the most faithful. And we read book after book in order to convince ourselves that Jesus is the Christ, and yet we still never arrive at such faith.
St. Anselm spoke of faith seeking understanding, but many reverse the order as if faith will be ours once we understand. This never works. Faith is no mere assent of the intellect, but a conviction written on the heart. Whereas intellectual assent can exist solely in the head and can coincide with persistent disobedience, faith cannot. Faith makes fundamental changes to the human will so that it delights in obeying God. No human wisdom can achieve this.
The second “flesh and blood” attempt to produce conversion is through emotional experience. The thinking goes like this: If only we had a certain kind of religious experience, something in which we felt emotional about Jesus, then we’d believe in him and follow his ways. And so, Christians of this bent are always pursuing a religious experience that will produce a certain feeling in them. Worship services and prayer are engaged in for the sake of this feeling, and if the feeling isn’t found, then disappointment ensues. And even if the feeling is found, it never lasts. True faith abides; emotional experiences do not.
While the first “flesh and blood” attempt thinks of faith as mere intellectual assent, the second defines faith as a feeling. Neither is right. Yes, the gospel is intellectually and emotionally persuasive, and faith in Christ does indeed change the intellect and forms one’s feelings. Nevertheless, such intellectual and emotional changes are not faith itself. They are simply its byproducts, and the one who pursues only the byproducts of faith is sinfully mistaken.
One may pursue the most eloquent preachers and books, or the most emotional worship services and service opportunities, but such a man will not be pursuing Jesus. He will have made a god out of his intellect or his emotions, and therefore the true God, Jesus, will remain elusive to him.
“But My Father Who is in Heaven”
Peter’s conviction was wrought in him not by flesh and blood, but by the Spirit of God. The kind of faith that changes the heart and gives rise to discipleship is something God himself works inside a man. 2nd Corinthians 4:6 is key here: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” This knowledge of God’s glory in the face of Jesus Christ – this belief that life in Christ is truly better than anything else – is arrived at not through the flesh and blood efforts of man, but through the revelation of God. It is his gift to those whom he has chosen; it is his work inside his people.
One caveat, however: That does not mean one can go along his merry way and expect to somehow arrive at faith. There is much talk in the Church about faith being a gift of God that we do nothing to earn. That’s true so far as it goes, but it’s also true that faith doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. God has ordained a certain way in which people come to faith. Namely, faith comes through hearing the Word of Christ. (Romans 10:17)
That means would-be Christians must hear God’s Word. It is no accident that Christ says, “Take care then how you hear.” (Luke 8:18) In order for the obedience of faith to come about, it is crucial that one listen attentively and submissively to God’s Word – whether his Word is written, preached and taught, or visible (i.e. the Sacraments).
Plant and Water Prayerfully
Perhaps the best analogy for understanding this is 1st Corinthians 3:6: “I planted the Seed (God’s Word), Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” The duty of Christians is to plant and water the Seed. But in the end, only God can give the growth. That means all planting and watering – all preaching, teaching, listening, learning, Bible-studies, worship services, any and all kinds of spiritual disciplines – must be done prayerfully. They must be done, that is, in complete reliance on and openness to the Spirit of God. Only he can produce true growth in Christ.
A Final Word
Peter’s confession – “You are the Christ” – signified his faith in Christ. Yes, his faith was weak and he was prone to lapses. (Read just a few verses after the passage being addressed here. It’s not pretty.) Nevertheless, Peter had begun to believe in Jesus and be changed by him. This faith was not an achievement, whether intellectual, emotional, or otherwise. No, Peter’s faith was wrought in him by the Spirit of God through the hearing of the Word of God. He heard the Word, and he received it with the obedience of faith. Such is the way of all God’s people right down to this very day.
Friday, August 15, 2014
From Dog to Lost Sheep
An Introductory Note on Demon Possession
Because this Sunday's gospel reading speaks of demon-possession, a brief word on demons seems appropriate. Demons can be conceived of as beings that take possession of the human heart by luring one into idolatry. Whereas angels speak God’s message of truth and thereby encourage devotion to our Creator, demons speak lies and thereby lead one to worship and bow down to created things. Said differently, when the human heart turns any created thing into its functional savior or “god”, all of life begins to revolve around that false god. Such slavery to a created thing is, in a nutshell, the nature of demon possession – which is perhaps far more common than our world recognizes.
A Canaanite Woman’s Prayer and Jesus’ Not-Exactly-Pastoral Response
Many Christians in their gathering this weekend will hear Matthew 15:21-28, in which a Canaanite woman begs Jesus to heal her demon-possessed daughter. Jesus’ initial response to the woman’s prayer is not what one would expect. First he tells the disciples, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Then he tells the woman, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”
Apparently Jesus failed his pastoral care classes. His response seems not only unkind, but also contradictory to his own teachings – and really to the teachings of God’s Word as a whole. Indeed, what happened to his saying, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31)? Or St. Paul’s saying, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15)?
The Harshness Has a Purpose
While many would like to ignore or explain away Jesus' harshness, Martin Luther does neither. Instead, in a sermon on this same passage, Luther notes the personal experience of any given sinner – that is, how no sinner receives the grace of God without first being humbled. That is to say, for Jesus to heal our iniquities, we need first to admit culpability and responsibility for them. (As a side note, this accords with my own conversion to Christ, and also with any continued growth in Christ. None of it has ever happened apart from being convicted and reproved for sin.)
It may sound harsh, but the daughter’s demon-possession was her own fault and, more broadly, her own people’s fault. It was a consequence of their idolatry. To explain that a little, idol worship – which is to love created things over and against our Creator – always leads to bondage. (Cf. 2 Peter 2:19) Because the Canaanites worshiped idols, the daughter’s bondage to a demon could be expected. It was simply a natural consequence of their sinful ways.
Jesus points this out not so that the Canaanite woman will walk away from him, but so that she will walk away from her previous way of life. He’s getting her to disown her idols and cling to him instead. And so, Jesus’ harsh response has a purpose. Namely, Christ is drawing her to repentance – again, not so that she will despair of his grace, but so that she will despair of any so-called merit or goodness of her own. Modern psychology tends to say we should think well of ourselves, but “those who are well have no need for a physician.” The patient first needs to be told that she is sick. Only then can the remedy of grace can be applied.
A Far Greater Kindness
So Jesus’ apparent unkindness is in fact the greatest kindness. Most want only to be told, “You’re good the way you are. Go in peace.” But Jesus loves sinners more than that. He will not ignore their true condition, nor will he leave them to wallow in their sinfulness. He wants to free his people from their bondage, and the first step to such freedom is the admission that we ourselves have created such bondage. (Alcoholics Anonymous knows this quite well.) Those who admit they are “dogs” – that is, unworthy to receive the grace of God and the gift of new life – can thereby have their status changed from “dog” to “lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
In short, for the consequence of sin (demon-possession and alienation from God) to be undone, the cause of sin (idol-worship) needs to be addressed and repented from. Hence Jesus’ initial response to the woman’s prayer. It may have been severe, but the severity of God is kindness to those who embrace it in faith. Even in the face of humiliation and in the face of a God whose severity against sin cannot be doubted, the one who believes still says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” (Matthew 15:27) With that faith, which subsists in repentance, Jesus’ final response can be heard: “Great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” (Matthew 15:28)
And so the sinner goes from being a "dog" to being counted a "lost sheep of the house of Israel." Christ came for the lost sheep, and this particular one has been found.
Because this Sunday's gospel reading speaks of demon-possession, a brief word on demons seems appropriate. Demons can be conceived of as beings that take possession of the human heart by luring one into idolatry. Whereas angels speak God’s message of truth and thereby encourage devotion to our Creator, demons speak lies and thereby lead one to worship and bow down to created things. Said differently, when the human heart turns any created thing into its functional savior or “god”, all of life begins to revolve around that false god. Such slavery to a created thing is, in a nutshell, the nature of demon possession – which is perhaps far more common than our world recognizes.
A Canaanite Woman’s Prayer and Jesus’ Not-Exactly-Pastoral Response
Many Christians in their gathering this weekend will hear Matthew 15:21-28, in which a Canaanite woman begs Jesus to heal her demon-possessed daughter. Jesus’ initial response to the woman’s prayer is not what one would expect. First he tells the disciples, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Then he tells the woman, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”
Apparently Jesus failed his pastoral care classes. His response seems not only unkind, but also contradictory to his own teachings – and really to the teachings of God’s Word as a whole. Indeed, what happened to his saying, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31)? Or St. Paul’s saying, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15)?
The Harshness Has a Purpose
While many would like to ignore or explain away Jesus' harshness, Martin Luther does neither. Instead, in a sermon on this same passage, Luther notes the personal experience of any given sinner – that is, how no sinner receives the grace of God without first being humbled. That is to say, for Jesus to heal our iniquities, we need first to admit culpability and responsibility for them. (As a side note, this accords with my own conversion to Christ, and also with any continued growth in Christ. None of it has ever happened apart from being convicted and reproved for sin.)
It may sound harsh, but the daughter’s demon-possession was her own fault and, more broadly, her own people’s fault. It was a consequence of their idolatry. To explain that a little, idol worship – which is to love created things over and against our Creator – always leads to bondage. (Cf. 2 Peter 2:19) Because the Canaanites worshiped idols, the daughter’s bondage to a demon could be expected. It was simply a natural consequence of their sinful ways.
Jesus points this out not so that the Canaanite woman will walk away from him, but so that she will walk away from her previous way of life. He’s getting her to disown her idols and cling to him instead. And so, Jesus’ harsh response has a purpose. Namely, Christ is drawing her to repentance – again, not so that she will despair of his grace, but so that she will despair of any so-called merit or goodness of her own. Modern psychology tends to say we should think well of ourselves, but “those who are well have no need for a physician.” The patient first needs to be told that she is sick. Only then can the remedy of grace can be applied.
A Far Greater Kindness
So Jesus’ apparent unkindness is in fact the greatest kindness. Most want only to be told, “You’re good the way you are. Go in peace.” But Jesus loves sinners more than that. He will not ignore their true condition, nor will he leave them to wallow in their sinfulness. He wants to free his people from their bondage, and the first step to such freedom is the admission that we ourselves have created such bondage. (Alcoholics Anonymous knows this quite well.) Those who admit they are “dogs” – that is, unworthy to receive the grace of God and the gift of new life – can thereby have their status changed from “dog” to “lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
In short, for the consequence of sin (demon-possession and alienation from God) to be undone, the cause of sin (idol-worship) needs to be addressed and repented from. Hence Jesus’ initial response to the woman’s prayer. It may have been severe, but the severity of God is kindness to those who embrace it in faith. Even in the face of humiliation and in the face of a God whose severity against sin cannot be doubted, the one who believes still says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” (Matthew 15:27) With that faith, which subsists in repentance, Jesus’ final response can be heard: “Great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” (Matthew 15:28)
And so the sinner goes from being a "dog" to being counted a "lost sheep of the house of Israel." Christ came for the lost sheep, and this particular one has been found.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
A Little Update, A New Blog
The Past Six Months
Much has changed in the past six months. In January I married the love of my life, Kristi, in a small ceremony on the Big Island of Hawaii. (For the week before the wedding, she and I were surrounded by some of the people we love most in the world. It was wonderful.) In May Kristi graduated from business school, and in June we moved to Pittsburgh, PA as I began a new call in ministry at Zion Lutheran Church. Now we're preparing to move into a home we've purchased, Kristi is applying for jobs, and both of us are trying to catch our breath. Life has been a whirlwind lately - a good whirlwind, but a whirlwind nonetheless.
A New Blog
Apparently all of that change means it's time to start a new blog. (At least that's what I was thinking when I started putting this thing together this week.) Perhaps the change that is most prompting me to start this blog is my new call at Zion, and the opportunity therein to write reflections that build up the Church.
I blogged regularly when I was a seminarian (thoughtsofaseminarian.blogspot.com). I also blogged, rather irregularly, when I was a pastor at La Casa de Cristo (garrett37.blogspot.com). In both cases, my hope was to offer reflections on the Christian faith that were at once faithful, thoughtful, and edifying. I mention that because the goal of this blog is no different. To quote St. Paul, "The goal of our instruction is love that comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith." (1 Timothy 1:5)
With each post, I welcome your comments, feedback, criticism, etc. Who knows? Maybe the lone reader of my previous blogs (thanks Mom!) will be joined by one more (Kristi?), or even two or three more (probably setting myself up for disappointment here). Regardless, happy reading to each, and especially to the people of Zion. More substantive posts are forthcoming.
Much has changed in the past six months. In January I married the love of my life, Kristi, in a small ceremony on the Big Island of Hawaii. (For the week before the wedding, she and I were surrounded by some of the people we love most in the world. It was wonderful.) In May Kristi graduated from business school, and in June we moved to Pittsburgh, PA as I began a new call in ministry at Zion Lutheran Church. Now we're preparing to move into a home we've purchased, Kristi is applying for jobs, and both of us are trying to catch our breath. Life has been a whirlwind lately - a good whirlwind, but a whirlwind nonetheless.
A New Blog
Apparently all of that change means it's time to start a new blog. (At least that's what I was thinking when I started putting this thing together this week.) Perhaps the change that is most prompting me to start this blog is my new call at Zion, and the opportunity therein to write reflections that build up the Church.
I blogged regularly when I was a seminarian (thoughtsofaseminarian.blogspot.com). I also blogged, rather irregularly, when I was a pastor at La Casa de Cristo (garrett37.blogspot.com). In both cases, my hope was to offer reflections on the Christian faith that were at once faithful, thoughtful, and edifying. I mention that because the goal of this blog is no different. To quote St. Paul, "The goal of our instruction is love that comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith." (1 Timothy 1:5)
With each post, I welcome your comments, feedback, criticism, etc. Who knows? Maybe the lone reader of my previous blogs (thanks Mom!) will be joined by one more (Kristi?), or even two or three more (probably setting myself up for disappointment here). Regardless, happy reading to each, and especially to the people of Zion. More substantive posts are forthcoming.
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