Sunday, March 23, 2008

The Great Discontinuity

"Biblical faith begins with the radical announcement of discontinuity that intends to initiate us into a new history of anticipation."
-Walter Brueggemann, The Land: Place as Gift, Promise,
and Challenge in Biblical Faith

The church in America generally struggles to preach vibrantly from the Old Testament. Most pastors either avoid it altogether or else reduce it to pithy moralizations that highlight the human players at the cost of seeing the work of the Divine Playwright.

The Old Testament is, admittedly, more intimidating than the New Testament. Because it is situated within the hellenized Roman Empire, the early church doesn't seem so culturally distant from us; we in the west have a much harder time dropping into the milleu of Abraham than of Paul.

In one sense, it is unhelpful to separate the testaments. While the reasons we do so are strong and many, the cost is (or at least, can be) a failure to see the consistency of God's action throughout history—and what responding to God's action requires of humans.

Brueggemann develops his concept of biblical faith from the example of Abraham, who, through an act of discontinuity, left a life behind to follow the promise of Yahweh. This faith, however, is not stagnant, but rather one of great anticipation. Abraham demonstrated this anticipation throughout his life: Though the biblical text only gives a few instances of God speaking to Abraham, he trusted in God's promises for decades of his life. He trusted God to the point of being faithful—even to his deathbed, when the only land of promise he could claim was his grave site. A great nation? A land for his own? Hardly.

Yet Scripture shows us how God made good his promises to Abraham. At the crossroads of the testaments stands the Incarnation: very God of very God takes on human flesh and reconciles a chosen people to himself. As great as was the discontinuity in Abraham's life when he trusted in God's promises, how much greater will be the Christian's response to the Incarnation, the Great Discontinuity?

In light of the Resurrection we celebrate today, we celebrate an anticipation that because the grave could not hold Jesus, neither will it hold his children. We shall not remain dead, but shall be raised! Abraham left certainty of earthly comfort, family, and familiarity to follow God into unpromising (by human standards) territory. His faith required a discontinuity from his past life in order to embrace anticipation of God's promise. I fear many who fashion themselves "Christian" do not sufficiently embrace this discontinuity.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Alleluia!

Life imparting heavenly manna
Stricken rock with bleeding side
Heaven and earth with loud hosanna
Worship You, the Lamb who died.

Alleluia! Jesus, True and Living Bread!


Restoration Project
is done. Last summer Daniel, Jason and I sat down and talked (over a choice beverage) about recording some of the songs we'd been using in church over the last few years. I don't know that I thought it would pan out; you can see the man who put in the countless hours to make it happen here.


I think of Restoration Project as a good bottle of katsup. It's not the food your soul needs, but a flavoring. Katsup has no nutritional value. A diet of katsup alone will lead to malnutrition and death. But when the Gospel looks like your aunt's dry meatloaf, I pray that Restoration Project will be a means God uses to entice you to try just that first bite. And once you taste the Gospel, you will see how sweet it is—and need katsup no longer.

Last summer we flipped the glass Heinz bottle, and for the last 9 months we've banged on the 57's. It took awhile for it to flow, but Heinz is always worth the effort. Now that it's flowing, we pass the bottle to you. Give it a few taps. If the Gospel has become bland to you, or you have never tasted of it, I pray that it will help you to yearn for the True and Living Bread. Taste of Christ that you would hunger no more—and yet hunger for him increasingly.

The good news we sing of is not salvation by the works of human hands, but by the work of Christ Jesus alone. For this reason—because Christ is the only worthy one—the glory goes to him alone.

Friday, March 14, 2008

i thank You God for most this amazing...

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)




e.e. cummings

Saturday, March 08, 2008

Missions and Living

A missions-minded friend of mine frequently expresses frustration at how few Wheaton students respond to calling to enter the missions field. Forget counting the number of missionaries that have gone out from the Wheaton community lately—I could count on one hand the number of students I know who seek to do long term missions—there just isn't any sort of fervor on campus about missions. When people sit around at night talking with friends trying to figure out what to do with their life, missions is rarely raised as a potential calling.

The lack of fervor for missions is a problem in itself, but I think that the problem extends beyond this particular to how we understand our calling in light of the gospel. I wish to explore this from two angles. First, whether we take seriously the (very biblically based) concept that "everyone is called to missions, but only some are called to go." That is, whether we are properly executing the Church's mission in other cultures. In another post, I hope to look at the second area: How those who who stay in their own culture can make decisions in their life to impact their own culture for the gospel.

The mantra that was pummeled into my mind from an early age in the church was that, "Some are called to go, some are called to send (financially), all are called to pray." Unfortunately, this is hardly ever faithfully enacted. The model for prayer for missions is not passive, but rather striving together for the sake of the gospel (Romans 15:30).

My assertion is this: Those of us that stay in our own cultures and support missionaries who go (through prayer and finances) should expect our lives to be disturbed by the cost of the gospel going out to the nations. We ought to prioritize both our time and finances to serve the gospel, perhaps even at the cost of other opportunities. It is impossible to say generally what this looks like for each person, and I won't suggest much in the way of pragmatics here. As much as conversation needs to happen in these areas, a reformation of missions will only happen among those who radically center their lives on the hope given in Christ. Is there hope beyond the grave? Have we been given promises in Christ greater than this life can offer? Then to live means service of Christ, and death is gain! Our lives are not our own.

I pray that I would be faithful to Christ in the faith of death. A one time giving of self for Christ seems simple compared to living life day to day as if my life is not my own. A life of continual sacrificial giving, earnest, engaged prayer (such that one aches with the sufferings and struggles of those in the missions field), or even giving up a life in America that is very appealing—that is a challenge I cannot face alone. As the martyr relies on God for faithfulness in the face of death, so rely on God's grace for faithfulness in every moment of life.


Up next: On False Entitlement

Friday, March 07, 2008

Clarification

In a previous post I discussed the role of doubt in the life of a believer. I affirmed the positive function of doubt—that it can lead to a greater confidence in the faith, and even a greater ability to give account for the hope within. Doubt can play an integral role in faith development. However, I wish to offer three points of clarification:

1. The Role of the Community in Doubt: Jude 22 says, "And have mercy on those who doubt." Previously in the letter, Jude called the Body to persevere in the midst of scoffers of the faith and those who cause divisions. While Jude warns the Church against scoffers such as these, doubters are a different category. The community is to bear with doubters in love, even battling alongside them against doubt, saving them "by snatching them out of the fire."

2. The Distinction Between Scoffers and Doubters: Given that Jude warns against one catagory and prescribes mercy towards another, there is a difference between doubting and scoffing. Doubters have a disposition towards faith. Scoffers, on the other hand, are "devoid of the Spirit." Doubters are those who cry, "I believe, help my unbelief." Doubters have seen the beauty of Christ and will persevere. Scoffers have no such hope. Scoffers seek to cause division in the church.

3. Whether Doubt is a Sin: As Jude uses the term doubt here (and he gives a fairly detailed distinction between doubting and scoffing), doubt is not a sin. The community is told to bear with doubters. Nowhere in the New Testament is the church told to bear with sin. Although the church is to seek to help others overcome doubt, Jude portrays doubt as a condition believers will find themselves in from time to time. This is not to say that remaining in doubt is acceptable. Fight against it!

Monday, March 03, 2008

Reformers v. Emergers: A Lenten Reflection


Reformation theology is traditionally thought to be rooted in Romans, particularly chapters 9-11: God's sovereign choice in extending the focus of his steadfast love to the Gentiles. The emphasis is on God's sovereign act of redemption in Christ Jesus.

Emergent theology—or most liberal theology of the last couple decades—centers their theology in the Sermon on the Mount. For them, the Incarnation means a radical reorienting of morality, an egalitarian (used broadly) ethic, a new law. The emphasis is on Jesus' radical teaching.

Everyone has a hermeneutical lens through which they read Scripture. Often this lens is a part of Scripture that is seen as most significant. The reason I most closely align myself with the reformers is that they, as a whole, most closely focus their hermeneutic on what is the most significant event not only in Scripture but in all history: the Passion of the Incarnate. 

Jesus' teachings are hugely important, but if all God were out to do was correct some bad doctrine, he hardly needed to humble himself and become man to do so. There is something much more significant than a new teaching going on in the Incarnation: the reconciliation of God and man that could only occur by the particularity of Jesus Christ, true God of true God, becoming flesh and dying as a propitiation for our sins.

This is what the Reformers are getting at in centering their reading Scripture in Romans 9-11. It is essentially saying, "Thanks be to God that he has provided sacrifice for our sins, Jew and Gentile, and that the Good News is going out to all nations." Romans 9-11 is a theological (and practical!) outworking of the Passion narratives.

I am becoming increasingly convinced that God created the world so that he could demonstrate his steadfast love through the Incarnation and death of Jesus Christ. This is the centerpiece of all history; this is the purpose and the meaning of all things. Using on the Sermon on the Mount as a central hermeneutic of Scripture comes up short in at least two ways. First, The Sermon on the Mount does not appear in all the Gospel accounts. The Passion does. If the primary significance of Jesus' incarnation were his rabbinical teachings on the Law of Moses, wouldn't all of the Gospel writers have communicated this as clearly as Matthew and Luke do? Second, this teaching dangerously reduces Jesus to a moral teacher—a view that is incongruous with the whole of Scripture. One can focus on the reconciliatory work of Christ and still (necessarily!) see the significance of his teachings. Focusing first on his teachings obscures the reason the God became flesh.

This Lent, reflect first on what great love is yours in Christ Jesus, who humbled himself to the point of death–even death on a cross—in order to reconcile a sinner like you to God. Then, through the lens of such great love to you and empowered by the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised to those who believe in him, seek to live in love in accordance with the teachings of the one who demonstrated perfect love. One cannot embrace the first without embracing the second; the former necessarily leads to the latter. But one is utterly hopeless in truly living out Jesus' teachings unless the reality of the Cross has transformed him in the innermost.