Pursue Freedom

I had a realization today. Strong negative responses are attached to actual occurrences, events, things that happen to us. We, therefore, might assume that we will have strong positive feelings about the lack of a negative occurence, but that is not always the case.

For example. I looked forward, in retirement, to enjoying not having to do certain things, like not having to work on weekends and holidays, or when it snowed, or when I was sick. And while I experienced fleeting satisfaction as the workless weekends and holidays came and went, for the most part, my life as I am now experiencing it, simply went on as per the new "usual". I merely gave a passing nod to the non-event.

This explains to some extent, I think, why, for many, after suffering all of the misery in an unhappy marriage, the freedom of divorce may not seem to deliver on its promise. The absence of the misery doesn't automatically produce equal and opposite feelings of relief or happiness.

This also relates to why the absence of a catastrophic event can never come even remotely close to having the same impact as a catastrophic event does. People, if told that a massive terror plot was just uncovered and thwarted, will give a relieved and grateful sigh, then go on about their day. Even if they are told that this event could have been of the same magnitude as 9/11, an event which they might have experienced to one extent or another, their response will naturally be minimal in comparison.

The negative feelings from experiences in the past are not erased or replaced with joy engendered by the cessation of those experiences; and negative things that never happened leave little to no imprint at all.

While we may receive actual benefits as a result of distancing ourselves from misery or narrowly escaping disaster, we may not experience emotional benefits.

So, if escaping the negative is not enough to produce the positive, what is? For me it is intentionally exploring what it means to live fully in the freedom found only in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Knowing that I have nothing to prove or earn, I can seek new experiences, create new life events, find things which give me a sense of purpose, that bring me excitement and get my creative juices flowing.

You can too!  We can find ways to replace the end of misery or the escaping of death with new life, new adventure and fresh hope. We can dare to pursue things with enthusiasm; dare to speak our minds and hearts. We can love. We can be pot-stirrers. People may think we're crazy, but let's go ahead and live boldly. Let's not just escape the negative, let's pursue the freedom we've been given in Christ. Let's dance!

Faith, Contamination and Belonging

After I posted my last blog based on the first part of Matthew 3 which, among other things, dealt with what “bearing fruit in keeping with repentance” might look like, a friend pointed out that I had not included faith in that list of fruit.  I chewed on that for a while.

Those baptized with John’s repentance-baptism were not professing their faith in Jesus.  They were not baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  John’s was a different baptism than that with which we, as Christians, are familiar.  In fact, it was different from anything with which the Jews were familiar as well. 

Prior to this time, there were primarily two situations where Jews would have experienced something akin to what we consider baptism.  One was for those who became defiled by coming into contact with something that was considered to be contaminating, e.g., a dead body.  In order to cleanse themselves of their defilement, they were required to immerse or “dip” themselves in water collected in a pool.

Water purification was also one of the three requirements for the conversion of a proselyte to Judaism.  In that sense, it was a membership ritual.  Converts had to be immersed before they could “belong”.  

The individuals themselves performed both of these ritual cleansings.  John’s repentance-baptism, by contrast, was administered by John, who acted in a priestly role, and seemingly in competition with the temple rite of purification through sin offerings. 

In the instituted sacrificial system, the person bringing the sin offering would confess to the priest the specific sin for which the offering was being made and then he would place his faith in the sufficiency of the sacrifice for the forgiveness of his sin.  I can’t say with certainty, but I can imagine that, despite the fact that its intention was the opposite, this system, because of the fallen nature of mankind, would foster the belief that one was paying for his own sins.  ‘I committed a sin for which I am bringing one of my own possessions as payment.  I, therefore, can have faith that God will accept this transaction and forgive my sin.’

John’s proclamation of repentance-baptism took the people out of the familiar and gave them a completely new perspective.  All sin was now placed in the context of contamination.  They were all defiled—as unclean as if touched by death.  Their sin also placed them on the outside, looking in, as surely as if they were foreigners.  They could see that their ancestry did not ensure their belonging.  Forgiveness of sin could no longer be viewed as a pay-as-you-go transaction.  Repentance could not be a public apology for show.  It was now permanently fused with the need for water cleansing, which must be administered by another.   Repentance called for a complete change of everything they had ever understood about themselves and about God.  Their faith, at that point, was temporarily placed in the sufficiency of John’s repentance-baptism, in preparation for the coming of the one true object of faith.

When Christ came, then, to receive this repentance-baptism from John, John rightly understood that Jesus should be the one administering and he should be on the receiving end.  There stood Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God, not provided from the flock of a sinner, but provided by God as the ultimate sacrifice for the sins of the world.  Jesus had nothing for which to repent, nothing that necessitated water purification.  This repentance-baptism was not even a feature of the law that God had commanded all to fulfill; but, by submitting to it, Christ did two things. 

First, he affirmed and established the pre-eminence of baptism, this means of water cleansing for the forgiveness of sins, over the specifically Jewish sacrificial system of purification via sin offering. This repentance-baptism became the foundation for the baptism Christ later established.

Secondly, and most importantly, he fulfilled through his righteousness on our behalf the requirement of perfectly turning to God in full submission and completely turning away from all wickedness, which is the true meaning of repentance and something that we can never fully do on our own, no matter how hard we try. 

Because of what Christ completed at the cross, this perfect repentance and cleansing are gifted to us; as is the faith we receive from him to believe and accept those gifts.

Straight Paths, Good Fruit and Unquenchable Fire

Now in those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea, saying, ² “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” ³ For this is the one referred to by Isaiah the prophet when he said,

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness,
‘Make ready the way of the Lord,
Make His paths straight!’”

⁴ Now John himself had a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist; and his food was locusts and wild honey. ⁵ Then Jerusalem was going out to him, and all Judea and all the district around the Jordan; ⁶ and they were being baptized by him in the Jordan River, as they confessed their sins.

⁷ But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? ⁸ Therefore bear fruit in keeping with repentance; ⁹ and do not suppose that you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham for our father’; for I say to you that from these stones God is able to raise up children to Abraham. ¹⁰ The axe is already laid at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

¹¹ “As for me, I baptize you with water for repentance, but He who is coming after me is mightier than I, and I am not fit to remove His sandals; He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. ¹² His winnowing fork is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clear His threshing floor; and He will gather His wheat into the barn, but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” Matthew 3:1-12 (NASB)

Today when I read this passage in Matthew, a few questions came to mind: 

1.  How was John the Baptist supposed to make God’s paths straight? 

2.  What does “fruit in keeping with repentance” look like?  

3.  What is this very disturbing picture of Jesus with something akin to a pitchfork and hell fire all about (All that’s missing are the horns, right?!)?

My initial research took me to Isaiah 40.  Verse 3 is quoted in Matthew, but, for context I began with the first two verses and read through the two following verses: “Comfort, O comfort my people”, says your God.  “Speak kindly to Jerusalem; And call out to her, that her warfare has ended, That her iniquity has been removed, That she has received of the Lord’s hand Double for all her sins.” A voice is calling, “Clear the way for the Lord in the wilderness; Make smooth in the desert a highway for our God.  Let every valley be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; And let the rough ground become a plain, And the rugged terrain a broad valley.  Then the glory of the Lord will be revealed, And all flesh will see it together; For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” Isaiah 40:1-5

What I first realized is that the ultimate message was to be one of comfort and tenderness.  The people were to be told that their warfare had ended and their iniquity had been removed.  This was not meant to be a message of condemnation, as it is often pictured, but one of hope!  Not only that, but I saw that it was not John the Baptist’s job to clear the way for the Lord, or to make his paths straight; rather, his was to be the voice calling the people to clear the way for the Lord and to make his paths straight.  So, how were the people supposed to make God’s path straight?

In all four of the gospels, we read that John preached to the people the message of a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin.  The passage in Matthew has John calling the religious leaders of the day a “brood of vipers”, and asking them who warned them to flee from the coming wrath.  He also told them not to rely on their credentials as Abraham’s children, since God could turn the stones into Abraham’s children if he wanted to.   Luke goes even further, and applies those words to all who came out to hear John’s message and then details the different groups, such as tax collectors and soldiers, who asked John what behavior was required of them.  John answered each of them with specific instructions. 

From these passages of scripture, I began to see that the way the people were to prepare a straight path for the Lord was by squarely facing the reality of their sin.  They needed to stop thinking they were acceptable to God because of their personal goodness or their ancestry.  They needed to examine their specific behavior requirements and find themselves wanting.  They needed the law to be laid down, to show them that they actually needed a place to run, to escape the coming wrath.  They needed to see their need, so that nothing would impede their grateful acceptance of rescue when it arrived.

This understanding also answered my next question about what “fruit in keeping with repentance” looks like.  It looks like humility.  It looks like shedding all dependence on my own goodness.  It looks like recognition that I am no better than anyone else, that we are all in the same boat and that boat is sinking. It looks like desperate longing for rescue and, ultimately, great relief and joy when the good news is revealed.

But, what about that picture of Jesus with the winnowing fork ready to clear his threshing floor; gathering his wheat into the barn but burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire?  This is a picture of the harvesting process where the wheat is tossed into the air with a fork so that the wind can blow away the worthless parts such as the husks, hulls, shells, etc., leaving only the grain.  The chaff is then burned. 

Some consider the wheat to represent those who recognized their need for a savior and accepted the offer of rescue through Christ, with the chaff representing those who saw no need for rescue.  I prefer to picture Christ taking all of those who believe in him and tossing us into the air so that the wind gently blows away all of our worthless and even damnable efforts to be good enough, until all that remains is wheat, made perfect in his righteousness.  Then, all of the evidence of our fearful and fruitless struggle is burned with unquenchable fire, because, finally, we are eternally safe in Him.

Three Kings?

Today is Epiphany, or Three Kings Day.  For Christians, this day is the culmination of the Advent and Christmas seasons, celebrating the three Magi who came, following a star, to find the Christ child.  In my lifetime, I have heard many wonderful stories about the significance of the announcement of Christ’s birth to the shepherds.  They were the least and the lowest as far as their place in society.  They represented the idea that salvation was for everyman, not just for the elite.  But, in light of that, what do these Three Kings represent?  I decided to do some research.

The first thing I discovered was that scripture never says how many of them there were, it only says that Magi came from the east.  The idea that there were three men came from the number of gifts mentioned: Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. 

Then, I discovered that the Bible never says they were Kings.  They were “Magi”, which is not nearly as fancy a title as I’ve been led to believe all these years.  In fact, its meaning was rather surprising to me: sorcerer, wizard, magician or astrologer.  If you have studied scripture in reference to any of those words, you will know that the people of God were clearly forbidden to have anything to do with those who did such things.

Prior to this story, the closest that scripture comes to presenting these practitioners in anything resembling a positive light was in the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream found in Daniel 2.  When none of Nebuchadnezzar’s magicians, enchanters, sorcerers and astrologers could tell him his dream and its meaning, Daniel, only with direct revelation from God in answer to his prayer, was able to do so.  As a result, Nebuchadnezzar put Daniel in charge of all of his “wise men.”  The obvious implication of that story was that God alone is the source of true wisdom.  Daniel was only a “wise man” because he was a conduit of God’s wisdom.

In the New Testament, the same word translated as “Magi” in the story of the visitors from the east, was used in only two other verses, Acts 13:6 & 8, and was translated there as “magician” and “sorcerer”, referencing a wicked man.

What we now have in the Epiphany story are a group of pagan sorcerers and astrologers to whom God chose to reveal himself.  Through their forbidden practices, he enabled them to discern the fact that a powerful king, the King of the Jews, had been born; and, by their astrological charts, he showed them a star, which they followed to find him.  These men, whose deeds God called detestable in scripture, are contrasted against Herod, the currently reigning King of the Jews, to whom God revealed nothing.

This is scandalous!  So scandalous, in fact, that we felt the need to dress up the story, making these men presentable and worthy by elevating them to the status of kings who must have somehow procured copies of the Hebrew Scriptures and carefully studied them; and on whom God bestowed his favor, because of their diligence, by leading them to Christ. 

The truth is, they were not worthy of that honor.  They were shockingly unworthy, just like the shepherds to whom the angels came; just like us.  Yet, God met those practitioners of the detestable black arts right where they were and demonstrated to us all that no one, no one, is beyond his reach. 

That’s worth celebrating!

Both the Abused and the Abuser

“Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

Everywhere I look, lately, there is a great deal of divisiveness in Christendom as to what constitutes abuse of power in both politics and the pulpit; whether or under what circumstances one should be considered unfit to wield power once witnesses have come forward with accusations of abuse, and how we should relate to both the accused and the accusers.

Some stand with and defend those with compelling accounts of suffering both physically and emotionally under these leaders whom they trusted.  Statistics support the belief that people rarely bring false accusations of abuse, particularly if more than one witness comes forward with similar experiences.  Stories of abuse should spark moral outrage and there is a very real responsibility for Christians to support those who have been mistreated and to make every effort to see that others are protected from suffering the same treatment at the hands of these individuals.  The truth must come out in order for that to be accomplished.

But, as Christians, the manner in which we go about accomplishing this purpose is as important as the purpose itself.  There is nothing that brings out ugly self-righteousness faster than defending someone else.  The intrinsic belief that ‘all is fair in love and war’ comes into play on all fronts; we love the victim and we want to go to war.  No holds barred.  Fangs bared, claws out.  It is so easy to justify ripping into the accused and tearing him to shreds.  We can become intoxicated with the smell of blood, in the name of protecting the innocent.  I know, I’ve been there.

On the other side, some stand with the accused.  While there are those who completely discount the stories of the accusers, I’m not talking about them.  I’m referring to those who admit that the stories are likely valid, but take the position that, because, in God’s eyes we are all sinners, we do not have the right to judge and condemn; particularly if the accused abuser has indicated repentance.  They object to the exposure and detailed dissecting of every sordid detail.  They ask us to imagine how we would feel if our lives were similarly exposed for all to see.  They remind us that we have no right to cast the first stone, and that the one who did have the right chose not to, but instead offered forgiveness.  They tell us that only God can determine the sincerity of another’s confession.  They ask us to see this person as a brother who is frail and fallible, like us, and just as in need of pardon.

These sincere Christians also point to stories in scripture like that of King David, who used his position to seduce Bathsheba, then impregnated her and ultimately had her husband killed to protect his secret.  They remind us that, far from removing him from his position as king, God declared him to be a man after his own heart; perhaps as a result of the repentance which occurred after his sin was exposed and he saw himself for who he was before God. 

They are not far wrong.  I have said these very things in defense of those who are guilty.  I have hoped and prayed for their restoration to effective leadership.  But this position effectively dismisses those who were harmed at their hands.  In essence it says “Yes, yes, we’re sorry for you, but we must forgive, and so must you.  Let’s move on.”

I came to believe a long time ago that there is no perfect way for humans to deal with sin.  It would be one thing if “sin” was limited to acts which we do; we could perhaps, then, manage to look at another’s actions dispassionately and objectively; but, sin is a condition.  It permeates every single cell of every single body.  Because of that condition no one sees, thinks or acts without its influence.  We are blinded, to a great extent, to that influence in our own lives, so how could we think for a second that we could clearly see beyond our own plank to deal with the blindness of another?  We desire to do what we think is right, but our attempts often do more damage than good. 

Should we then do nothing because what we do will be messy and imperfect?  Should we stand aside and let the chips fall where they may?  No.  There are most certainly times when we must take a stand; we must speak and act.  But we are always called to act from love; because we deserved nothing but God’s wrath, and instead we were loved.  We need to genuinely pray to find the most loving thing for all concerned, and then do it in the most loving way possible.  If we speak truth, we must speak it in love (Ephesians 4:15).  If we restore, we must restore gently, lest we fall ourselves (Galatians 6:1).  Sometimes love allows a person to experience the full weight of the consequences of their actions, but it never rejoices in that; it weeps.  At the same time we never discount another’s pain; we bind up the brokenhearted and wrap them in our arms. 

Although we may have more questions than answers, and it may seem impossible, we need to ask God to show us how to be a safe place for both the abused and the abuser, because, if we are honest, each of us is, to some extent, both the abused and the abuser.  God help us all.

LAW...What is it Good For?

All of my early life I was taught and believed that there was only one use of the Law—to tell us what God expected us to do.  My church taught that, with the help of the Holy Spirit, over the course of a lifetime we could come to a place where we perfectly kept the law. The understanding was that, regardless of whether you reached the goal, you were to spend your days trying; and, that you would ultimately be judged by the quality and degree of your efforts, the intentions of your heart and the general direction of your life.

Obedience was stressed above all else.  I deeply believed that God’s approval of me was directly related to my level of obedience; yet I was comforted by the understanding that, if I was faithful in confessing my sins, salvation, in the end, was still possible.  It could be achieved by a combination of my obedience to the Ten Commandment Law and my confession of sin.

Blessedly, the Gospel—the Good News of Jesus Christ—found me and taught me that salvation is not something one achieves at all; rather, it is a free gift of God, given to us through faith alone in Christ alone, which is completely unmerited, unearned and unrelated to my obedience!  I began to see that Scripture presented a completely different use of the Law, a rather counterintuitive use of the law, which is that of an accuser, whose main purpose is to show me my utter inability to obey it and then to lead me to acknowledge my desperate need for salvation apart from the Law and to finally bring me to Christ, who fulfilled the Law on my behalf.

Philip Melanchthon, Martin Luther’s co-reformer, said “Lex semper accusat”, the Law always accuses.  Intellectually I accept that premise, I see it in scripture and I agree that it’s true; however, there is still a part of me which desperately wants to believe that one day the Law will finally pat me on the back. It is the part of me which still wants to earn, be worthy of, deserve, my salvation. It is the part of me that wants to show the world I can put my money where my mouth is, and have some skin in the game.

Depending on whether one is looking at the uses of the Law from the Reformed or Lutheran perspective, the first and second uses of the Law are reversed, but, as I stated above, one use of the Law is to give us a knowledge of our sin and our need for a Savior. The other use is to restrain the sinful excesses of sinners in general, through the fear of punishment, which brings about an outward conformance to moral standards and results in a measure of peace in society. This has been called the Civil use of the Law, which is about keeping order, and has nothing to do with an inward transformation of the heart.

But, there is a third use of the Law, one which I have been pondering in light of that part of me which still wants to take credit for something relating to my salvation.  I think that a misunderstanding of the third use of the law coupled with our innate desire to claim credit has led directly to the “do more, try harder” emphasis in Christianity today, which places the focus on the Christian Life rather than on Christ.

This misunderstanding of the third use of the law presupposes that, since we know there is no reason to fear condemnation from the Law any longer because of Christ, it can now be safely used to show us how God wants us to live and what he wants us to do.  We are encouraged to take the verses about being conformed to the image of God’s son (Romans 8:29), being a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), being transformed by the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2) and others, as setting before us the now achievable goal of becoming Christ-like through obedience to the Law. This is very appealing to that part of me which relishes the challenge and is ready to finally get that pat on the back.  It also affords me the alluring opportunity to compete with others in the contest to see who can be the most like Christ.

The problem is, the presupposition, that finally we can be guided by the law without experiencing condemnation, is faulty.  The Law always accuses.  The Law always shows us what we should do, but can never give us the power to do it.  The Law, when it is not used to drive us to Christ, but to drive us to moral improvement, will always turn us into hypocrites who are pretending to be improved. That is not the third use of the Law.

The third use of the Law, as I am coming to understand it, works quietly in the background of the Christian heart.  It is the steady hum of the Law which has been written in our minds and on our hearts, as it says in Jeremiah 31:33-34. It is what the Holy Spirit uses to continually call us back from pride to the reality of our continued need for a Savior.  It is the standard by which we are urged to measure ourselves so that we will remember we are no better than anyone else for whom Christ died, and therefore we have no one upon whom we can look down our noses. It is the ever present reminder of our dependence upon a salvation which is completely outside of us and for which we are due no credit.

In other words, as it always accuses, the Law, in its third use, always drives us to Christ; because we must constantly be driven to look from ourselves to Him.  And it is only in beholding Christ that fruit is produced in us and we are freed to offer the same grace and mercy we have received from Him to those around us.

My Grace-based New Year’s Resolutions

1. Fearlessly cultivate an awareness of your daily sinfulness.  Be brutally honest about your pride, judgment of others, unkind thoughts and words, short-temperedness, impatience, selfishness, self-righteousness, greed, self-pity, lack of faith, lack of trust, irreverence, etc.

2. Boldly go to God with that painful awareness, with no excuses or false promises to change, and humbly thank him for loving and forgiving you unconditionally every single day because of Jesus' sacrifice which covers it all, even though you deserve nothing but his condemnation and wrath. Then gratefully bask in his love.

3. When you find yourself wanting to treat others the way "they deserve", remember what you deserve and how God loves and forgives you over and over again, and respond accordingly.

4. When you fail at #3, and you will, repeat #2.  For the rest of your life.