The word "gospel" is easily misconstrued. It comes from the Greek word euangelion, meaning good (eu) news/message (angelion). The New Testament writers repeatedly use "gospel" to speak of their message about Jesus. Perhaps because we are so removed from their world, we often hear "gospel" and think it means "that which is pleasant to our ears."
In New Testament times, the word "gospel" was used to announce the inauguration of a ruler. Thus, there was the "gospel" of Caesar Augustus. Given this use of the word, we could say that there was a "gospel" of Joseph Stalin in 1929 and a "gospel" of Adolf Hitler in 1933. Obviously, to think of "gospel" simply as "that which is pleasant to our ears" is a mistake.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is the announcement that Jesus' reign has begun. Said differently, Jesus is Lord and the Kingdom of God is at hand. Interestingly, this is indeed great news for us. Jesus is the King who forgives our past transgressions against Him and against His commandments. Furthermore, He is the King whose reign makes us truly free. (See especially the third chapter of 2 Corinthians.) Such freedom is not the ability to "do what we want," but rather the ability to be who we were really made to be.
We were made to love our Creator above all else and to love our neighbor as ourselves. With Jesus as our King, we are free to do this without fear. As our King, Jesus establishes a community of mutual love under His rule. This community (the church) hears and obeys His Word. In the meal known as the Lord's Supper, this community feeds on Him as its Bread of Life. And on the Last Day, Jesus will lead His community into the heavenly Kingdom of God.
And so the gospel of Jesus really is "that which is pleasant to our ears." However, it is pleasant in a way that is quite different from our imaginings. Jesus is not merely a nice guy who makes us feel good. He is our Lord, and His reign sets us free from sin and death. Good news indeed.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
The World's Story
The story of Joseph is often cited as the best example of how God makes good out of evil. It’s a great story and, if you haven’t read it, I recommend doing so (Genesis 37-50). For the sake of this post, I’ll offer a brief summary here.
Joseph had a dream that his brothers and parents would eventually bow before him. He told this dream to them (probably not a good idea) and, subsequently, his brothers sold him as a slave (a worse idea). Despite setbacks, Joseph rose to power in Egypt. He was able to interpret the pharaoh’s dream that a famine was coming. When a severe famine struck the land, Joseph’s brothers traveled to Egypt to buy grain. They came upon Joseph and, not recognizing him as their brother, they bowed before him.
The dream had come true, but in a very messy way. Joseph later revealed his identity to his brothers: “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life.” (Genesis 45:4-5) He went on to say, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.” (Genesis 50:20)
As I said in the first sentence of this post, Joseph’s story is said to be the paradigmatic story of God’s providence. In the face of evil, God is able to bring about His purposes. Hidden in the brothers’ sinful intentions and hidden in the messiness of the story, God is at work to ensure that His intentions prevail.
While I agree that Joseph’s story is a great example of God’s providence, I think that it merely points to a story that is far greater. The story of Joseph, we must say, points to the story of Jesus. If we’re going to define providence as God’s work to somehow (invisibly) work good out of evil, then Jesus’ story is the story without equal. At the peak of human evil, when the Son of God was rejected and crucified, God brought about His greatest work: Jesus rose from the dead.
It should not be surprising that the story of Joseph points to the story of Jesus. Indeed, they share the same Author. In both cases, it is God who writes the story. What makes the story of Jesus different, however, is that the Author has entered the story as a Character. When the Word of God took on human flesh in Jesus of Nazareth (see John 1), the Author of the world’s story became its central Character.
This begs the question: What is the place of Christians in this story? The fact that Jesus has risen from the dead and ascended into heaven seems to end the story. The story, however, is not over. If anything, Jesus’ resurrection is more like a sneak-peek of the story’s true End. Jesus is clear in saying that He has gone to prepare a place for us, and that the story will not end until He returns to take us to Himself. (John 14:3) Ultimately, the Day of Jesus’ return will be the End of the universe’s story.
The question remains: What is the place of Christians in the story? Christians are characters in the story who trust that God is indeed the Author, that in Jesus He has entered the story, and that His Spirit is guiding us to the story's fulfillment. Despite all evidence to the contrary and despite the messiness of the story, the Christian trusts that God is at work and this His purposes will prevail. Thus, the Christian also hopes for the happy End. Despite the common doubt that Jesus isn’t coming back and that the dead will never rise again, the Christian hopes that God will fulfill His promise.
Finally, the Christian also loves his fellow characters. Such love is not an attempt to write the story on one’s own, since it is God who is the ultimate Author and who alone ensures the happy End. If the Christian tries to write the story on his own, he thereby forfeits the trust that God is the Author and loses the hope that God’s End will prevail. Nevertheless, by God’s grace the Christian participates in the writing of the story, loving his fellow characters.
Ultimately, we are minor characters in the story, following the Character around whom the whole story revolves. We are Jesus’ followers. We are those who trust in the Author, who hope for the End He has promised, and who steadfastly love our fellow characters.
Joseph had a dream that his brothers and parents would eventually bow before him. He told this dream to them (probably not a good idea) and, subsequently, his brothers sold him as a slave (a worse idea). Despite setbacks, Joseph rose to power in Egypt. He was able to interpret the pharaoh’s dream that a famine was coming. When a severe famine struck the land, Joseph’s brothers traveled to Egypt to buy grain. They came upon Joseph and, not recognizing him as their brother, they bowed before him.
The dream had come true, but in a very messy way. Joseph later revealed his identity to his brothers: “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life.” (Genesis 45:4-5) He went on to say, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.” (Genesis 50:20)
As I said in the first sentence of this post, Joseph’s story is said to be the paradigmatic story of God’s providence. In the face of evil, God is able to bring about His purposes. Hidden in the brothers’ sinful intentions and hidden in the messiness of the story, God is at work to ensure that His intentions prevail.
While I agree that Joseph’s story is a great example of God’s providence, I think that it merely points to a story that is far greater. The story of Joseph, we must say, points to the story of Jesus. If we’re going to define providence as God’s work to somehow (invisibly) work good out of evil, then Jesus’ story is the story without equal. At the peak of human evil, when the Son of God was rejected and crucified, God brought about His greatest work: Jesus rose from the dead.
It should not be surprising that the story of Joseph points to the story of Jesus. Indeed, they share the same Author. In both cases, it is God who writes the story. What makes the story of Jesus different, however, is that the Author has entered the story as a Character. When the Word of God took on human flesh in Jesus of Nazareth (see John 1), the Author of the world’s story became its central Character.
This begs the question: What is the place of Christians in this story? The fact that Jesus has risen from the dead and ascended into heaven seems to end the story. The story, however, is not over. If anything, Jesus’ resurrection is more like a sneak-peek of the story’s true End. Jesus is clear in saying that He has gone to prepare a place for us, and that the story will not end until He returns to take us to Himself. (John 14:3) Ultimately, the Day of Jesus’ return will be the End of the universe’s story.
The question remains: What is the place of Christians in the story? Christians are characters in the story who trust that God is indeed the Author, that in Jesus He has entered the story, and that His Spirit is guiding us to the story's fulfillment. Despite all evidence to the contrary and despite the messiness of the story, the Christian trusts that God is at work and this His purposes will prevail. Thus, the Christian also hopes for the happy End. Despite the common doubt that Jesus isn’t coming back and that the dead will never rise again, the Christian hopes that God will fulfill His promise.
Finally, the Christian also loves his fellow characters. Such love is not an attempt to write the story on one’s own, since it is God who is the ultimate Author and who alone ensures the happy End. If the Christian tries to write the story on his own, he thereby forfeits the trust that God is the Author and loses the hope that God’s End will prevail. Nevertheless, by God’s grace the Christian participates in the writing of the story, loving his fellow characters.
Ultimately, we are minor characters in the story, following the Character around whom the whole story revolves. We are Jesus’ followers. We are those who trust in the Author, who hope for the End He has promised, and who steadfastly love our fellow characters.
Monday, November 8, 2010
We Hope for What We Do Not See
I’ve heard it said that hope is faith oriented to the future. This seems like a pretty good definition and, for this post, it will suffice. Perhaps what is lacking in much of the talk about hope is the specific object of Christian hope. We can hope for all kinds of things: nice weather, a long life, or even something sinister like the downfall of someone we dislike. It should be obvious from these examples (especially the last one) that it is not hope as such that makes one a Christian.
Sometimes Christian hope is thought of as an attitude of optimism rather than pessimism. This is, put simply, incorrect. To see why, let’s briefly consider these curious creatures known as the optimist and the pessimist. In short, the optimist thinks that life’s circumstances will go his way, while the pessimist knows that this is a delusion. Whereas the optimist is typically carefree, the pessimist is more often careful.
While I might venture to say that the optimist is closer to being a Christian than the pessimist, neither approach to life is specifically Christian. As noted above, the optimist might hope for evil things. Furthermore, the hope of the optimist easily becomes a demanding expectation. Thus, when life’s circumstances do not go according to the optimist’s hopes, he might grow disappointed, angry, or even despairing.
The pessimist, meanwhile, is more realistic. He knows that life will not always bend his way. This realism, however, is not what makes someone a pessimist. The pessimist goes one step further. He concludes (based on the evidence, might I add) that life is hopeless. Yes, sometimes good things will come, sometimes bad things. “Regardless,” thinks the pessimist, “there is no rhyme or reason for such happenings and, therefore, to have hope is absurd.” Such a conclusion might lead to pragmatism, a “take life by the horns” attitude, or even a hardened heart. This last consequence is the outcome of a very serious pessimism. Obviously, a hardened heart is not the mark of a Christian.
So a Christian is neither a delusional optimist who thinks life is just cheery nor a hard-hearted pessimist who thinks life is ultimately meaningless. Unlike the pessimist, the Christian has hope. Unlike the optimist, the Christian has hope in something that does not disappoint. What, then, is this “something that does not disappoint”? What is the object of Christian hope that makes it specifically Christian?
In brief, the Christian hope is in God’s promise. Said differently, the Christian hope is in the promise spoken by Jesus Christ who Himself is the Word of God. What, then, is God’s promise through Jesus? Let us recall the following:
Jesus promises joy so overflowing that it persists even when all else goes wrong. (John 16:16-24)
He promises life so abundant that even death has no power over it. (John 14:1-3)
He promises peace so steady that no circumstances can disturb it. (John 17:33)
Ultimately, to those who love Him, God promises that His Spirit will be in and among them. (John 14:15-17)
These are the things for which the Christian hopes. It is God’s Spirit that distributes these gifts to us. Because the object of the Christian hope is a promise (a Word), it remains unseen. Promises, by their very nature, cannot be seen. They can, however, be trusted.
And so St. Paul writes the following about Christian hope: “For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:24-25) The Christian life, therefore, is one of waiting patiently for God to fulfill His promises. It is one of waiting – with hope. And it is in such hope that we are saved. It is in such hope that we begin to taste the joy, the life, and the peace that have no end.
This does not mean that Christians don’t encounter adversity or feel down sometimes. It does mean, however, that such adversity and sorrow have been made relative. Disappointment has lost its power, and Christians are permitted to smile and to laugh in the face of it. It is as Jesus says: “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
So it is certain that Christians “will have tribulation,” and yet we can still “be of good cheer.” Why? Because our final and lasting hope is in Jesus, who has “overcome the world.” It is this hope, the hope “for what we do not see,” that is specifically Christian. And it is this hope, the hope in Jesus and his promises, wherein our salvation lies.
Sometimes Christian hope is thought of as an attitude of optimism rather than pessimism. This is, put simply, incorrect. To see why, let’s briefly consider these curious creatures known as the optimist and the pessimist. In short, the optimist thinks that life’s circumstances will go his way, while the pessimist knows that this is a delusion. Whereas the optimist is typically carefree, the pessimist is more often careful.
While I might venture to say that the optimist is closer to being a Christian than the pessimist, neither approach to life is specifically Christian. As noted above, the optimist might hope for evil things. Furthermore, the hope of the optimist easily becomes a demanding expectation. Thus, when life’s circumstances do not go according to the optimist’s hopes, he might grow disappointed, angry, or even despairing.
The pessimist, meanwhile, is more realistic. He knows that life will not always bend his way. This realism, however, is not what makes someone a pessimist. The pessimist goes one step further. He concludes (based on the evidence, might I add) that life is hopeless. Yes, sometimes good things will come, sometimes bad things. “Regardless,” thinks the pessimist, “there is no rhyme or reason for such happenings and, therefore, to have hope is absurd.” Such a conclusion might lead to pragmatism, a “take life by the horns” attitude, or even a hardened heart. This last consequence is the outcome of a very serious pessimism. Obviously, a hardened heart is not the mark of a Christian.
So a Christian is neither a delusional optimist who thinks life is just cheery nor a hard-hearted pessimist who thinks life is ultimately meaningless. Unlike the pessimist, the Christian has hope. Unlike the optimist, the Christian has hope in something that does not disappoint. What, then, is this “something that does not disappoint”? What is the object of Christian hope that makes it specifically Christian?
In brief, the Christian hope is in God’s promise. Said differently, the Christian hope is in the promise spoken by Jesus Christ who Himself is the Word of God. What, then, is God’s promise through Jesus? Let us recall the following:
Jesus promises joy so overflowing that it persists even when all else goes wrong. (John 16:16-24)
He promises life so abundant that even death has no power over it. (John 14:1-3)
He promises peace so steady that no circumstances can disturb it. (John 17:33)
Ultimately, to those who love Him, God promises that His Spirit will be in and among them. (John 14:15-17)
These are the things for which the Christian hopes. It is God’s Spirit that distributes these gifts to us. Because the object of the Christian hope is a promise (a Word), it remains unseen. Promises, by their very nature, cannot be seen. They can, however, be trusted.
And so St. Paul writes the following about Christian hope: “For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:24-25) The Christian life, therefore, is one of waiting patiently for God to fulfill His promises. It is one of waiting – with hope. And it is in such hope that we are saved. It is in such hope that we begin to taste the joy, the life, and the peace that have no end.
This does not mean that Christians don’t encounter adversity or feel down sometimes. It does mean, however, that such adversity and sorrow have been made relative. Disappointment has lost its power, and Christians are permitted to smile and to laugh in the face of it. It is as Jesus says: “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
So it is certain that Christians “will have tribulation,” and yet we can still “be of good cheer.” Why? Because our final and lasting hope is in Jesus, who has “overcome the world.” It is this hope, the hope “for what we do not see,” that is specifically Christian. And it is this hope, the hope in Jesus and his promises, wherein our salvation lies.
Monday, November 1, 2010
It Is They Which Testify on My Behalf
There are numerous debates within the Church on how to regard the Bible. It is beyond the scope of this post to consider all of the nuances to the debate. Nevertheless, I think it is important to identify two fundamental (and common) errors that Christians make when thinking about and living with Scripture.
The first error is to think that the Bible is God. This is usually referred to derisively as “biblicism.” If being a “biblicist” means taking the Bible seriously, then all Christians should be biblicists. However, if being a “biblicist” means equating the Bible with God, then Christians should run from this error.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus identifies the problem with such biblicism: “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on My behalf. Yet you refuse to come to Me to have life.” (John 5:39) This error undoubtedly continues among us today. It is quite easy to read the Bible, learn its lessons, and dress ourselves up in all the nice outward trappings of being a good Christian. We can even go so far as to order our lives according to biblical principles, trying to live according to "Judeo-Christian values."
And yet we can do all of that while at the same time refusing to come to the living Jesus. We can achieve all sorts of appearances and feelings that we are indeed Christian, while simultaneously withholding ourselves from God. This is the error of we who “search the scriptures” and yet refuse to come to Jesus so that we might truly have life. It is the attempt to be a Christian without Christ.
There is an opposite error to that of biblicism, and this opposite error often grows out of a desire to not be a biblicist. Because the Bible is indeed not the same thing as the living God, we jump to the conclusion that the Bible is contrary to God. This error expresses itself in a number of ways, chief of which is the dismissal of the Bible’s authority. When we come across things in the Bible that are difficult to understand or run contrary to our current way of thinking, we conclude, “Well, since the Bible is not the same as God, I am free to reject those parts with which I disagree.”
This is a gross mistake. We must recall that Jesus referred to the scriptures as “they that testify on My behalf.” True, the testimony is not to be confused with the One to whom they testify. Nevertheless, we do not know the living Jesus apart from such testimony. We have a tendency (I’m guilty of it myself) to imagine God in a way that is pleasant to us, and then to reject the parts of Scripture that disturb this preconceived image. Yet this preconceived image of God is nothing more than an idol, and it must be rejected if we are to know the living God to whom the Bible testifies.
So there we have our two errors. We are not to be biblicists who refuse to come to the living God, nor are we to reject Scripture because it contradicts whom we think God should be. The Bible is not God, but it does indeed point to Him.
There is one more question to consider. If the Bible testifies to Jesus and does not in fact reveal Him, then how is He revealed? The Bible itself addresses the issue in the story of the men on the road to Emmaus. The risen Jesus encountered these men and “interpreted to them the things about Himself in all the scriptures.” (Luke 24:27) Even this, however, did not reveal Jesus. The account continues: “When He was at the table with them, He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized Him; and He vanished from their sight.” (Luke 24:30-31)
The men on the road to Emmaus then went on to tell “what had happened on the road, and how He had been made known to them in the breaking of bread.” (Luke 24:35) Jesus, it is important to note, still reveals Himself to us in the breaking of bread. He reveals Himself to us in the Meal celebrated among Christians. It is called by various names: the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, Eucharist, etc. The important thing is not the name, but the One who reveals Himself to us in the breaking of bread. As we eat the bread together, we hear these words: “This is my body, given for you.” This is the One to whom the Bible testifies. We know Him because we are guests at His table. Furthermore, we know Him because He is our Bread of Life.
The first error is to think that the Bible is God. This is usually referred to derisively as “biblicism.” If being a “biblicist” means taking the Bible seriously, then all Christians should be biblicists. However, if being a “biblicist” means equating the Bible with God, then Christians should run from this error.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus identifies the problem with such biblicism: “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on My behalf. Yet you refuse to come to Me to have life.” (John 5:39) This error undoubtedly continues among us today. It is quite easy to read the Bible, learn its lessons, and dress ourselves up in all the nice outward trappings of being a good Christian. We can even go so far as to order our lives according to biblical principles, trying to live according to "Judeo-Christian values."
And yet we can do all of that while at the same time refusing to come to the living Jesus. We can achieve all sorts of appearances and feelings that we are indeed Christian, while simultaneously withholding ourselves from God. This is the error of we who “search the scriptures” and yet refuse to come to Jesus so that we might truly have life. It is the attempt to be a Christian without Christ.
There is an opposite error to that of biblicism, and this opposite error often grows out of a desire to not be a biblicist. Because the Bible is indeed not the same thing as the living God, we jump to the conclusion that the Bible is contrary to God. This error expresses itself in a number of ways, chief of which is the dismissal of the Bible’s authority. When we come across things in the Bible that are difficult to understand or run contrary to our current way of thinking, we conclude, “Well, since the Bible is not the same as God, I am free to reject those parts with which I disagree.”
This is a gross mistake. We must recall that Jesus referred to the scriptures as “they that testify on My behalf.” True, the testimony is not to be confused with the One to whom they testify. Nevertheless, we do not know the living Jesus apart from such testimony. We have a tendency (I’m guilty of it myself) to imagine God in a way that is pleasant to us, and then to reject the parts of Scripture that disturb this preconceived image. Yet this preconceived image of God is nothing more than an idol, and it must be rejected if we are to know the living God to whom the Bible testifies.
So there we have our two errors. We are not to be biblicists who refuse to come to the living God, nor are we to reject Scripture because it contradicts whom we think God should be. The Bible is not God, but it does indeed point to Him.
There is one more question to consider. If the Bible testifies to Jesus and does not in fact reveal Him, then how is He revealed? The Bible itself addresses the issue in the story of the men on the road to Emmaus. The risen Jesus encountered these men and “interpreted to them the things about Himself in all the scriptures.” (Luke 24:27) Even this, however, did not reveal Jesus. The account continues: “When He was at the table with them, He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized Him; and He vanished from their sight.” (Luke 24:30-31)
The men on the road to Emmaus then went on to tell “what had happened on the road, and how He had been made known to them in the breaking of bread.” (Luke 24:35) Jesus, it is important to note, still reveals Himself to us in the breaking of bread. He reveals Himself to us in the Meal celebrated among Christians. It is called by various names: the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, Eucharist, etc. The important thing is not the name, but the One who reveals Himself to us in the breaking of bread. As we eat the bread together, we hear these words: “This is my body, given for you.” This is the One to whom the Bible testifies. We know Him because we are guests at His table. Furthermore, we know Him because He is our Bread of Life.
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