This week, a boy in youth group asked whose fault it is that we’ve been “kicked out” from the Garden of Eden: Adam or Eve? He was trying to spark a debate between the girls and guys, but his question is more important than he perhaps realized. His question, in fact, is determinative of how one goes through life.
Who’s to blame for ruining Paradise? This question has hung over the head of humanity ever since Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Adam blamed Eve; Eve blamed the serpent. You could say that the rest of human history is marked by this same blame-game. Cain blamed Abel; David (seeing Bathsheba as his ticket to Paradise) blamed Uriah; Herod (eyes set on his brother’s wife) blamed John the Baptist.
For more recent examples, you could say that Hitler blamed those with so-called “bad genes” (namely the Jews); Marx blamed capitalists and Christians (if it weren’t for them, Utopia!). Even today, conservatives and liberals, natives and immigrants, neat folks and messy folks, husbands and wives…all playing the blame-game, accusing one another for the ruination of Paradise.
The problem? The blame-game is nothing other than continuing to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The desire to be like God by knowing good and evil is the same desire that led Adam and Eve to their expulsion from Eden. To keep asking that question and to keep looking for someone to accuse is to add sin upon sin upon sin.
Ultimately, the blame-game has led to the crucifixion of Christ. Everyone’s been looking for a scapegoat – someone to blame for all of life’s ills – and Jesus Christ has offered himself as that scapegoat. The righteous One has taken the place of the guilty. This is the end of the blame-game, for Christ has refused to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and he has become the sacrifice for sins for which everyone’s been searching. So who’s to blame for the loss of Eden? Christ’s answer: Blame me.
The fact that the One who is blameless has said “Blame me” is a call to stop accusing, gossiping, backbiting, etc., and to admit that we’ve been eating forbidden fruit. And so the Christian answer to the question “Who’s to blame?” is no different than Christ’s answer: Blame me. I once was blindly playing the blame-game, but now I see that my sin is a log in comparison to my neighbor’s sin, which is only a speck. (Matthew 7:4)
The good news? The sinner who quits the blame-game and empties himself of his claim to righteousness finds himself in the company of Christ. Furthermore, this same Christ, who emptied himself of his righteousness and humbly took the form of a slave, has been exalted into the new Eden. (Philippians 2:7, 9) In his exaltation, the humble are glorified, the sinners are made righteous, and fallen humanity is returned into the presence of God. To put it differently, the blame-game has been put to rest, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil has been supplanted by the Tree of Life: Christ himself.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Hollow Knowledge, Living Faith
In January I wrote about the sin of those who are “always being instructed and can never arrive at a knowledge of the truth.” (2 Timothy 3:7) I noted that although the effort to understand the Christian faith can be a good and enjoyable activity of the mind, it becomes a sin when it's used as an excuse for distrust and disobedience.
Rather than living the life of faith, one who falls into this trap turns Christianity into nothing more than learning about the faith. Thus, a “Christian” is one who hears about God’s will but never does anything about it. The problem with that? “It is not the hearers of the law who are righteous in God’s sight, but the doers of the law who will be justified.” (Romans 2:13)
I’m bringing this up again for two reasons. First, this is an ongoing temptation for Christians, especially among those who are even moderately intelligent. A hollow knowledge that doesn’t touch our will is far safer than a living relationship with a jealous God. (Exodus 20:5)
The second reason I bring this up is that I recently read something that’s helped to sharpen my thinking on the matter. Francis de Sales’ Treatise on the Love of God makes it a point to distinguish living faith from hollow knowledge. Although the two are easily confused, there is a clear distinguishing mark between them: love.
Both knowledge and faith can seem to elevate a man above his natural self (what de Sales calls an “ecstatic experience”), but only true faith issues forth in love. The heart that rests in God’s love – that is, the heart that receives the gift of Christ – is itself moved to love. To put it another way, the heart that truly believes in God’s promise will become a patient heart, and it will practice kindness. (1 Corinthians 13:4)
Because the allure of hollow knowledge is ongoing, I think it’s a good practice to recall continually that love is always present when there is true faith. De Sales’ words about such faith – faith in the God who speaks to us by his Word, rather than faith in knowledge about him – are salutary:
“Sacred ecstasy never so much takes and affects the understanding as it does the will, which it moves, warms and fills with a powerful affection towards God. So that, if the ecstasy be more beautiful than good, more bright than warm, more speculative than affective, it is very doubtful, and deserving of suspicion…He who in his rapture has more light in the understanding to admire God, than heat in the will to love him, is to stand upon his guard; for it is to be feared that this ecstasy may be false, and may rather puff up the spirit than edify it.”
Rather than living the life of faith, one who falls into this trap turns Christianity into nothing more than learning about the faith. Thus, a “Christian” is one who hears about God’s will but never does anything about it. The problem with that? “It is not the hearers of the law who are righteous in God’s sight, but the doers of the law who will be justified.” (Romans 2:13)
I’m bringing this up again for two reasons. First, this is an ongoing temptation for Christians, especially among those who are even moderately intelligent. A hollow knowledge that doesn’t touch our will is far safer than a living relationship with a jealous God. (Exodus 20:5)
The second reason I bring this up is that I recently read something that’s helped to sharpen my thinking on the matter. Francis de Sales’ Treatise on the Love of God makes it a point to distinguish living faith from hollow knowledge. Although the two are easily confused, there is a clear distinguishing mark between them: love.
Both knowledge and faith can seem to elevate a man above his natural self (what de Sales calls an “ecstatic experience”), but only true faith issues forth in love. The heart that rests in God’s love – that is, the heart that receives the gift of Christ – is itself moved to love. To put it another way, the heart that truly believes in God’s promise will become a patient heart, and it will practice kindness. (1 Corinthians 13:4)
Because the allure of hollow knowledge is ongoing, I think it’s a good practice to recall continually that love is always present when there is true faith. De Sales’ words about such faith – faith in the God who speaks to us by his Word, rather than faith in knowledge about him – are salutary:
“Sacred ecstasy never so much takes and affects the understanding as it does the will, which it moves, warms and fills with a powerful affection towards God. So that, if the ecstasy be more beautiful than good, more bright than warm, more speculative than affective, it is very doubtful, and deserving of suspicion…He who in his rapture has more light in the understanding to admire God, than heat in the will to love him, is to stand upon his guard; for it is to be feared that this ecstasy may be false, and may rather puff up the spirit than edify it.”
Thursday, September 8, 2011
On Being Joseph's Brothers
The story of Joseph has been on my mind lately, since the conclusion of that story (Genesis 50:15-21) is the first Scripture reading in a lot of churches this Sunday. I have to admit that Joseph’s story is one of my favorites, largely because his life points so clearly to Jesus Christ. As I’ve been thinking about how Joseph prefigures Christ, I’ve jotted down a few parallels.
1. Joseph was to reign over his brothers, but this offended them and so they handed him over to a foreign people. Jesus Christ also came to reign over his Jewish brothers, but they were offended by him and so they handed him over to a foreign people. And even now, when the Spirit of Christ comes to reign over us, the continual temptation is to be offended and to reject his reign. It is a reign of grace and mercy, but no matter: to the eyes of the flesh, we see only tyranny and joylessness.
2. Despite the rejection and the sins committed against him, Joseph remained steadfast in the truth and God raised him to power. Just so, despite humanity’s rejection, Jesus Christ continued to “testify to the truth.” (John 18:27) Also, God has raised him to his right hand, giving him all authority in heaven and on earth. (Matthew 28:18) This is how God’s providence works: it brings good out of evil, and life out of death.
3. Joseph’s brothers were hit by a famine, but Joseph – because God had raised him to power – was able to save them. God had taken their rejection of Joseph and used it to provide them with a source of life. Just so, I’m convinced that the rejection of Christ leads to a famine. That is, our souls were made to feed on the Word of God, and Jesus is that Word. We go hungry without him, but God has taken Jesus' rejection and used it to provide us with the Bread of Life. For that reason, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)
If these parallels hold true, then we are Joseph’s brothers, and Jesus Christ is the true Joseph. What does this mean? It means that we come to Christ just as Joseph’s brothers came to Joseph. Specifically, we come to Christ as those who have rejected him, are now suffering a famine, and need what only he can give. The actions and words of Joseph’s brothers are to be our actions and words: “Please forgive the crime of the servants of the God of your Father.” And then, weeping, they “fell down before him, and said, ‘We are here as your slaves.’” (Genesis 50:17, 18)
Most wonderfully, these parallels also mean that Joseph’s words to his brothers are Christ’s words to his: “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. So have no fear; I myself will provide for you and your little ones.” (Genesis 50:19-21) Being Joseph’s brothers – being those who have rejected Christ – might seem like bad news. However, because God’s providence brings good out of evil, and because Jesus Christ – the true Joseph – is merciful, such bad news is in fact the Gospel.
1. Joseph was to reign over his brothers, but this offended them and so they handed him over to a foreign people. Jesus Christ also came to reign over his Jewish brothers, but they were offended by him and so they handed him over to a foreign people. And even now, when the Spirit of Christ comes to reign over us, the continual temptation is to be offended and to reject his reign. It is a reign of grace and mercy, but no matter: to the eyes of the flesh, we see only tyranny and joylessness.
2. Despite the rejection and the sins committed against him, Joseph remained steadfast in the truth and God raised him to power. Just so, despite humanity’s rejection, Jesus Christ continued to “testify to the truth.” (John 18:27) Also, God has raised him to his right hand, giving him all authority in heaven and on earth. (Matthew 28:18) This is how God’s providence works: it brings good out of evil, and life out of death.
3. Joseph’s brothers were hit by a famine, but Joseph – because God had raised him to power – was able to save them. God had taken their rejection of Joseph and used it to provide them with a source of life. Just so, I’m convinced that the rejection of Christ leads to a famine. That is, our souls were made to feed on the Word of God, and Jesus is that Word. We go hungry without him, but God has taken Jesus' rejection and used it to provide us with the Bread of Life. For that reason, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)
If these parallels hold true, then we are Joseph’s brothers, and Jesus Christ is the true Joseph. What does this mean? It means that we come to Christ just as Joseph’s brothers came to Joseph. Specifically, we come to Christ as those who have rejected him, are now suffering a famine, and need what only he can give. The actions and words of Joseph’s brothers are to be our actions and words: “Please forgive the crime of the servants of the God of your Father.” And then, weeping, they “fell down before him, and said, ‘We are here as your slaves.’” (Genesis 50:17, 18)
Most wonderfully, these parallels also mean that Joseph’s words to his brothers are Christ’s words to his: “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. So have no fear; I myself will provide for you and your little ones.” (Genesis 50:19-21) Being Joseph’s brothers – being those who have rejected Christ – might seem like bad news. However, because God’s providence brings good out of evil, and because Jesus Christ – the true Joseph – is merciful, such bad news is in fact the Gospel.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
A Christian Word About Labor Day
Labor Day isn’t exactly the most meaningful holiday on the calendar. I would venture to say that most people view Labor Day as little more than a nice day off that marks the end of summer vacation. I have no desire to change this view (I subscribe to it myself), and yet I think Labor Day affords the Church an opportunity to say something meaningful about human work.
There’s a tendency to think of work as a necessary evil. This notion is not without basis in reality: most work, even that which is initially exciting and glamorous, becomes quite ordinary and even tedious when done for an extended period. This tediousness often gives rise to the (religious) division of work into two categories: sacred and profane.
The former category consists of work that’s expressly religious. Sometimes this is church-related work. However, in a largely secular society, the sacred category often entails some type of social service. Thus, jobs like nursing or teaching often fall into the sacred category. Meanwhile, the profane category consists of tasks that carry no outwardly religious association, say accounting or plumbing. (Of course, in a society whose god is money or running water, accounting and plumbing may fall into the sacred category. The categorization depends on the god.)
Why does any of this matter? It matters because such categorizing of work is abolished in the person and work of Christ. Said differently, the distinction between the sacred and profane – just like the distinction between the Jew and Gentile – is broken down in Jesus. (Cf. Ephesians 2:14-16) Therefore, it is a sin to maintain that these categorizations carry ultimate significance and affect our standing before God. Apart from Christ, all work is meaningless. (Cf. Ecclesiastes) But in Him, human labor is made good and holy.
Nowhere is this more evident than in Acts 10, wherein God shows Peter that the profane centurion Cornelius has been sanctified in Christ: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” (Acts 10:15) Although this speaks of a profane person being sanctified, the same lesson applies to profane work. That is, the ordinary tasks of human life are made holy in Christ. Insofar as work is done in the grace of Christ – done in the Way of faith, hope, and love – it is lifted up into the realm of the holy. Sanctified work might look no different than unsanctified work, but indeed it tastes completely different to our souls.
The sanctification of ordinary work is a fundamental aspect of Christ’s redemption of this world. However, that doesn’t mean that every human work is redeemed. There’s an ancient Church teaching that whatever the eternal Son of God did not assume (take upon himself) in the incarnation is not redeemed. Christ assumed all of human nature, but he did not assume sin, which is foreign to human nature. Therefore, work which is sinful (done contrary to God's commandments) is not redeemed and remains unholy.
More importantly, Christ's redemption of the world means that ordinary work, done according to the will and in the grace of God, is no longer ordinary. Our daily tasks are holy tasks. Even and especially everyday things like sweeping a floor, balancing a spreadsheet, or changing a baby’s diaper: done in Christ – done in the Way of faith, hope, and love – this is sacred work. And so this Labor Day weekend, the lesson of Acts 10:15 is worth repeating: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”
There’s a tendency to think of work as a necessary evil. This notion is not without basis in reality: most work, even that which is initially exciting and glamorous, becomes quite ordinary and even tedious when done for an extended period. This tediousness often gives rise to the (religious) division of work into two categories: sacred and profane.
The former category consists of work that’s expressly religious. Sometimes this is church-related work. However, in a largely secular society, the sacred category often entails some type of social service. Thus, jobs like nursing or teaching often fall into the sacred category. Meanwhile, the profane category consists of tasks that carry no outwardly religious association, say accounting or plumbing. (Of course, in a society whose god is money or running water, accounting and plumbing may fall into the sacred category. The categorization depends on the god.)
Why does any of this matter? It matters because such categorizing of work is abolished in the person and work of Christ. Said differently, the distinction between the sacred and profane – just like the distinction between the Jew and Gentile – is broken down in Jesus. (Cf. Ephesians 2:14-16) Therefore, it is a sin to maintain that these categorizations carry ultimate significance and affect our standing before God. Apart from Christ, all work is meaningless. (Cf. Ecclesiastes) But in Him, human labor is made good and holy.
Nowhere is this more evident than in Acts 10, wherein God shows Peter that the profane centurion Cornelius has been sanctified in Christ: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” (Acts 10:15) Although this speaks of a profane person being sanctified, the same lesson applies to profane work. That is, the ordinary tasks of human life are made holy in Christ. Insofar as work is done in the grace of Christ – done in the Way of faith, hope, and love – it is lifted up into the realm of the holy. Sanctified work might look no different than unsanctified work, but indeed it tastes completely different to our souls.
The sanctification of ordinary work is a fundamental aspect of Christ’s redemption of this world. However, that doesn’t mean that every human work is redeemed. There’s an ancient Church teaching that whatever the eternal Son of God did not assume (take upon himself) in the incarnation is not redeemed. Christ assumed all of human nature, but he did not assume sin, which is foreign to human nature. Therefore, work which is sinful (done contrary to God's commandments) is not redeemed and remains unholy.
More importantly, Christ's redemption of the world means that ordinary work, done according to the will and in the grace of God, is no longer ordinary. Our daily tasks are holy tasks. Even and especially everyday things like sweeping a floor, balancing a spreadsheet, or changing a baby’s diaper: done in Christ – done in the Way of faith, hope, and love – this is sacred work. And so this Labor Day weekend, the lesson of Acts 10:15 is worth repeating: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”
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