Reinventing Water

While preparing for the sermon I preached this morning, I was considering the nature of circumcision, and in turn baptism and the Lord's Supper. In all three cases, God is taking something that is not uncommon and giving it a sanctified purpose.

The Israelites were not the only ones in the ancient Near East who practiced circumcision. Even the Egyptians, the polytheists, were known to practice circumcision. It was not the physical act that was unique to Israel, but the significance applied to it.

So also with baptism, it is hardly the only time in the life of a Christian where one gets wet. And there are washing rituals in various cultures. But baptism is given a unique symbolic meaning wherein the believer is lowered into death and raised out of the tomb with Christ. And the Lord's Supper is not the only time we eat bread—although for Baptists it may be their only wine.

Jeremiah 9:25-26 makes clear that circumcision itself is of not of value, but the covenant and faith is represents is. Further, it is important that these symbols have all been established specifically by God as symbols of particular things.

The implications of this I have been considering are for Christian artists. Take, for example, a lyricist such as Sufjan Stevens. To the discerning ear, his lyrics are full of Scriptural and theological allusions. At the same time, he seems to delight in lyrical abstractions, often making it difficult to understand exactly what he is saying. If you interpret his lyrics through sound theology, it is quite delightful and edifying.

But there is a danger in allowing the lyrics to create a world of imaginative symbolism on their own. While the new modes of expressing old truths can bring fresh life to the ideas, it is important to judge whether the new perspective is in fact true to what is revealed in Scripture. God's imaginitive symbolsim is authoritative and perfect in application. The same does not apply for our reinvention of imagery.

Art should bring fresh light to eternal theological truths, but it cannot change them.

An Honest Assessment

I just Wordled my blog.

A Ride With China's Finest

Yesterday morning I was working my summer job doing tech work at my college. On this morning, like most mornings, I was digging through the back of cabinets of equipment and trying to move cables around when I accidentally cut through a live power cord with a cheap, uninsulated pair of wire cutters. I'm not sure why, but I didn't get shocked at all. There was, however, a good deal of burning and sparking action. I'm glad to be alive.

My 'fray' with death caused me to think back on my time in China. My most potentially crippling anxiety during my time in China was safety. Mostly, I didn't want to grant an exclusive interview to the police, but there were also a few occasions when my physical safety was in danger. Safety is certainly something an American sacrifices in going out into other countries for the sake of the Gospel. But giving up what I consider safety was a wonderful discipline, as it helped me experience the joy of the Gospel more fully. I had a fuller realization that to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Another realization tacking my anxiety about safety brought me was that there is no reason for the Christian to fear, particularly when faithfully following Jesus. I knew I was supposed to go to China. If God saw fit to kill me there, more glory to Him. It was and is an incredibly freeing revelation.

But before my trip was over, I had one fantastic experience where I thought it was entirely possible I would be killed. When we were traveling through western China, we decided it would be best to hire a driver to take us for a leg of the trip. The children were getting exhausted from the buses and planes, so after we checked into our hotel, we asked them to find a driver for us.

Now, this hotel probably provided the biggest fuss to us checking in. When a foreigner stays at a hotel in China, the hotel is required to report to the government who is there. So, they take your passport, record the information, and send it along. It turns out the hotel was incompetent—probably because they hadn't had foreigners in quite some time—and it took them well over an hour to process our passports. I, more than the rest of the group, was becoming somewhat apprehensive at this. We eventually were able to stay there, and made a deal with a driver to take us to the next city.

So the next day, we brought our luggage down to the lobby, where the concierge directed us toward our van. We asked immediately if it was a joke. Our ride for the day was a sparkling clean, 11 passenger police van, lights and all. Sure, you'll give us a ride. Right to the PSB. As we loaded our belongings, the Chinese speakers in our group began conversation with the drivers. "Are you police officers?"

"No, no, no."
"How do you have this van then?"
"We borrowed it."
Uhuh.

So, we pile in, somewhat suspicious, incredibly curious, and all thinking how amazing of a story this is going to be if it ends well. Our drivers acted suspicious for the first 30 minutes or so of our drive. For the worry wart of the group, their behavior brought the conclusion that it was moderately likely that they would kill us and take our money. (This was completely illogical, by the way.)

It turns out they were just some regular guys who knew someone in the police force who they were able to bribe to borrow the van so that they could drive us to our next city. Their suspicious behavior was on account of their desire to avoid being stopped by a real police officer.

I can't help but wonder what workers in the toll booths thought when they saw a police van with seven Americans in the back. Probably that our drivers had made the catch of the year.

Not Far From the Truth

Tibet is a sensitive topic in China. If you're an American in China—and particularly if you want to be able to share the Gospel with anyone you meet—it's probably best to skirt around the issue, particularly in the east. Americans take a lot of interest in the liberation of Tibet, yet very few advocate the liberation of the Uygur lands. I have a suspicion the difference between these two people groups—both of whom are oppressed and mistreated to a degree—is the influence of the Dalai Lama in the west combined with the taming of a religion (Tibetan Buddhism) into an attractive philosophy of life without its remarkably dark roots.

Tibetan Buddhism is exported to America in the form of what amounts to atheistic self-help through inner peace, meditation, and harmonious living. I had the chance to visit a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in China (on my birthday, nonetheless). I had done some reading on Tibetan Buddhism before I went to China, but the reality of their actual practices did not hit home until I saw what the monks actually practice.

In short, Tibetan Buddhists believe that there are supernatural, demonic beings in this world who are wont to do us harm. These beings often have a pleasant, appealing face with which they lure people in, only to reveal their true, horrifying self. Tibetan Buddhism essentially amounts to a system of seeking to appease these demons so that they do not do us harm. The images of these demons were painted on the walls of the buildings. They were essentially the most disturbing creatures the human mind could conceive. This guy isn't even the worst of them. Usually they have a nice decapitated head in their hand or something.


Now the methodology:

Prayers and chants are important. To this end, monks are very devout in their prayers to those who have achieved enlightenment. But, because that cannot be enough, they thought of a new idea: write out your prayers, glue them to the inside of a giant drum, and give it a spin. In a nearby marketplace, I even found an electric powered prayer wheel, so you can just plug it in and let your prayers be multiplied. If you're eco-friendly, prayer flags (which pray your prayers as they blow in the wind) are a good alternative.


Of course, money is also important. Donations to the shrine of your favorite enlightened monk can't hurt, can it?


So in short, you pray to these little statues so that the big scary dudes don't hurt you.


Now, I've been somewhat sarcastic in my analysis of Tibetan Buddhism at this monastery. But in seriousness, their beliefs are practices are not far from the truth. Think about it: demonic forces are a reality. Their beliefs are probably based upon real encounters with supernatural forces of evil. But they have no concept of a creator God. In fact, I'm told that explaining this idea to a Tibetan is one of the most difficult parts of sharing the Gospel.

So what do you do if you know there are evil forces that want to harm you and you haven't been told that there is an omnipotent God who desires to make you his own and protect you? Try to appease the demons. And so they do, however they can. It is sad, though, that they worship idols made by human hands. Jeremiah 10:5 says that idols like these cannot do anything, good or evil. Yet worship of these idols prevents Tibetans from worshiping the One who only does good.

The Elegant Captain Hook

"Oh, I hate being disappointed, Smee. And I hate living in this flawed body. And I hate living in Neverland. And I hate... I hate... I *hate* Peter Pan!"

So cries James T. Hook as he once again reaches his tipping point. In 1991's Hook, the villain is given considerably more humanity than in previous renditions. On more than one occasion in the story, Hook reaches a point of unconquerable despair at his ailing condition.

What is it, though, about Peter Pan that Hook despises? It is his youthful joy in part. Butwhen Peter Banning returns, a fully grown man, Hook despises him for a new reason. Hook's chief tormentor in Pan's absence—a ticking clock—is a constant reminder of his mortality. When Pan, the once youthful antithesis of Hook's practically decomposing body returns as a middle aged man, Hook is more frustrated than ever.

Seeing Peter Banning's out of shape, noticeably fatherly form, Hook realizes the hopelessness of his own age and frailty. What was once a symbol of youthful immortality is now equally touched by the reality of time and aging—and seems as susceptible to death as Hook's mangled frame.

Hook's declaration to Smee is striking in its reflection on the condition of the body. Disappointment, frustration with the body, and the realization that death will come for us all are not unique to Captain Hook. In the words of William Shatner, "Live life like you're gonna die, because you're gonna."

There are three methods of coping with such a realization. The first is denial and/or apathy. One can ignore and numb oneself to the reality of death. Perhaps the young Peter Pan held this view— and it may have been reality for him at one point. The Lost Boys' chant, "I won't grow up" is the mantra of many young adults who seek to gain as much earthly pleasure as possible at all times at the expense of any responsibility. This pursuit is often more subtle than starting the weekend on Thursday night.

The second approach is to embrace the end of the earthly journey as the end of all things, and create what John Piper considers a misguided attempt at heaven on earth. The aim here is to work hard for 35 years, and then retire, because you've earned it. Move to Florida—or Arizona if you don't want such a geriatric atmosphere—play golf, collect stamps, and do whatever relaxes you. You're going to die, so you better enjoy life while it's still with you. Both these approaches to living put their stock in a body that will disappoint.

But, if one truly believes in the reality of resurrection of Jesus Christ, then there is confidence in the coming resurrection of the dead. And if these frail, mortal bodies are to be raised imperishable, then there is an infinite pleasure to be obtained through this life. Meaning, what may seem to human reasoning to be the most pleasurable lifestyle now may in fact be depriving you of joy. This mortal body will disappoint, as Hook declares. According to 1 Corinthians 15, tthe one who puts his faith in Christ can only be disappointed if Christ did not rise from the dead.

Faith means giving up the pursuit of satisfaction from things in this world. It means sacrificing anything the world would take from you for being obedient to Christ. But, in the oft quoted words of Jim Elliot, "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

This is What He Said

A juicy footnote from Bruce Waltke on page 310 of An Old Testament Theology,

"A personal anecdote is appropriate here. Several times in translating the New International Version of the Bible the committee rejected formerly suitable English renderings because they had acquired a double entendre with potential immoral connotations. It occured to me that every word could become debauched and corrupted through double entendre until one could not speak or thinking without debauched humor operating."

Waltke offers this anecdote as he discusses the culture-wide depravity at the time of Noah, "for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth" (Gen. 6:12). Waltke interprets the Genesis 6 text to mean that even man's imagination became evil—all flesh is understood very inclusively.

Waltke's indictment against the decay of language is all too accurate. In fact, even in my title for this post I have alluded to a popular catchphrase that is used to turn a mostly benign statement by another into a double entendre, or at least to point out one's faux pas.

But the evidence of the decay of language goes further, as pop culture continually "invents" new allusions to lewd acts, and while old profanities become practically benign with overuse, an increasing amount of the English vocabulary must be treated with caution. It's rather defeating for anyone who would wish to avoid a solecism at an inopportune moment, as the effort to stay up with the latest terms so as to avoid them dirties his mind in the process.

But just as much as language and culture becomes sullied, so also it happens with the individual. Titus bears an indictment against some such people:

To the pure, all things are pure, but to the defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure; but both their minds and their consciences are defiled. They profess to know God, but they deny him by their works. They are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work.

Titus 1:15-16

To the unbeliever—or to the believer who allows himself to be defiled—it is impossible for anything to be pure. All things can be twisted into evil, and such people prove it. However, Waltke sees the redemptive hope expressed in places such as Titus demonstrated in the language of the Old Testament:

"I took heart, however, in recalling that God chose the Caananite language, in which the most depraved literature of the ancient Near East was written, to become the Hebrew language, in which the Bible was written. In his mercy and redemptive power, God chose the language of the most depraved culture to sanctify as the language of Holy Scripture."

God is strong to save. As he sees fit, he can redeem even the most crass language for his purposes. And in his mercy, he can make the most foul of men pure. Why is this? It is because,

"...the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works."

Those who have been purified by the sacrificial death of Christ are to renounce ungodliness and live upright lives—not polluted by the world, not becoming increasingly debauched, but rather, increasing in godliness and zeal for good works as they wait for the return of Christ Jesus. How much more will the God who redeemed a language for his purposes also sanctify his ransomed people for his glory?

Some Thoughts on Marriage

Post-Bible Study conversation lead to me thinking about a notion surrounding marriage that seems fairly popular in contemporary Christianity. Packaged into many marriage ceremonies recently is the idea that marriage involves the bringing together of two families.

I can see where the argument from Scripture for this idea is developed. Biblical narratives of marriage (aside from metaphorical use) is entirely in the Old Testament. In these cases, there are instances where, upon marriage, the newlyweds lived with the woman's family. Take for example, Moses and Jacob. Both lived with their in-laws for an extended time after their marriage.

Further, normative behavior in Scripture is not necessarily prescriptive. Sin, for example, is fairly normative behavior in Scripture but is by no means condoned. And, I cannot think of an example in Scripture where two families joined together. When Moses and Jacob live with their in-laws, it is because they are not welcome with their own families.

I would argue that the more significant ethic of marriage in Scripture is the "leave and cleave" of Genesis 2. And in fact, an emphasis on joining two families together can get in the way of the practical implementation of becoming one flesh.

Becoming one flesh is a clearly taught theological principle that is foundational for gender relationships. Any notion of joining families together is developed from narrative—narrative that is not interpreted to mean such things, nor is it written in such a way as to draw out this element.

This is incredibly half-baked, but if true, quite important. Prove me wrong? I welcome it, lest I become increasingly heretical.

The Reality of the Cross

Earlier this week at our weekly Bible study I was challenged by a friend who related an idea he had read in Tim Keller's The Reason For God. The basic concept is whether one considers God to be a concept or a reality. 

As a concept, God is something to be argued, something to be proved logically, a worldview. You can play with a concept and make it fit your life or meet your needs or ends. A concept is something that supplements existing concepts. 

A reality, in this definition, is the presupposition to all further discussion. While concepts can be interpreted according to my needs and desires, a reality is the interpreting norm for all thought and discussion. Gravity is a reality; you don't just think about it abstractly. It determines how you live. 

This dichotomy has helped me as I think about something a friend I met in China said to me about evangelism and missions. He found it troubling that so often, people who share the Gospel with their friends, by how they go about sharing and what they make out to be most important as they talk about (or live out) Christianity, give the impression that Christianity is, at its core, about accenting to a certain worldview. If someone will say the earth was made in six literal days, oppose abortion, and say something another about Jesus being God, then many evangelists think that their task of sharing the Gospel has been fruitful. Far too often we present a concept rather than a reality. 

There's a certain allure to such a method of evangelism—and I know I can fall into it. If you share a concept, there is more wiggle room to avoid being thought of as intellectually inferior or foolish. It's possible to avoid the offense of the Gospel if you're sharing what amounts to bland unitarianism. 

Instead, my friend told me, share the knowledge of Jesus. What saves? It is not acknowledging that there is one God—the demons believe that, and tremble. It is not holding ethical stances on moral issues, though the Prophets (among other texts) make it clear that such things are important to God. It is not religious appearances. Transformation and salvation comes through Jesus Christ, through knowing him, through regeneration by his blood, and life in the Spirit. 

If someone thinks that what they've heard about Jesus can fold neatly into how they already live, they have not heard the Gospel. It is the purpose of the Church to unashamedly share the reality of Jesus Christ crucified, risen, and coming again. The cross changes everything. Not just individual lives, but the whole course of history. A Christian is one whose life has been so transformed by knowing Jesus that the Jesus' death and resurrection is the pivot around which his entire life is oriented. Pray, then, that God would allow his Gospel to be heard not as a concept but as a reality.

A Hymn to God the Father

i.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

ii.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

iii.

I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ;
But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore ;
And having done that, Thou hast done ;
I fear no more.

-John Donne

Follow Not the Camel, But the One Who Holds the Camel Together

In the geographic center of China—just north of the Tibetan plateau and southeast of the Gobi Desert—live the Salar, a Muslim people of Turkish origins. The cultural and religious capital of the Salar is located in Xunhua County in Qinghai province—just northeast of Xining.

As the legend goes, about 800 years ago the Salar people faced persecution where they lived in Uzbekistan. So, two brothers took a camel and strapped a copy of the Quran to its head. They followed this camel until it stopped at a spring in what is now Jiezi in Xunhua County. The Salar followed the camel to their new home, believing that Allah was leading them through it.

Today the Salar are defined most clearly through their belief in Islam. This represents a remarkable challenge as the church seeks to take the good news of Jesus Christ to their tongue—which has no written form—and tribe, which gains its primary identity from a system of belief that denies the diety of Jesus. The Salar are genetically different than the Han majority in China, and even than the other (mostly Turkish) minorities in China's west. Yet it is not the genetic differences that give the Salar their distinct culture, but 800 years of developing an identity as a minority group defined by religious status.

During the Cultural Revolution, Mao once declared pork to be such a valuable asset to the country that all people were mandated to eat it—even Muslims, in violation of their purity code (called halal). Instances such as this, where the majority ethnicity violated the culture created by Islam further heighten the Salar's identity as a Muslim people. So, even in the case of marginal Salar Muslims—that is, those who are cultural Muslims but not particularly devout—Islam so defines their identity that anything that challenges the Muslim culture is particularly alien.

The Quran says that Allah has 100 names, and he has revealed 99 of them in the Quran. The last name, according to the Quran, was revealed only to the camel. A popular method of evangelism to Muslims is to point to this text and then seek to show that the 100th name of Allah is Jesus Christ. Obviously, much more definition must go into a Gospel presentation than just adding a name for Allah. Most notably, faith in Jesus requires a change of community. Because some practices of Islam are directly in contradiction to following Christ, faith in Christ requires, in some leaving Islam and entering the church of Jesus Christ.

It makes an interesting situation for the Salar. As a Gospel witness spreads along the valleys of the western Yellow River, many Salar, whose ancestors followed a camel to a new land, will be asked instead to follow the one whose name is in some places only known by the camels. Perhaps it is that God brought the Salar out of Uzbekistan and into China in order that the Good News of his Son, Jesus Christ, might come to them there.

Oh, that the Salar people in the valleys of the Yellow River would worship Jesus. Until they do, the red rocks and hills cry out.

Reformed Theology Through the Lens of Biblical Theology

I'm (re-)reading Bruce Waltke's new Old Testament Theology, and came across an idea that, although not new to me, is explained here in such a way that has brought about fresh reflection.
The field of biblical theology seeks to read the Bible in such a way as to see the progression of God's work through history, sorting ideas thematically into organic categories that flow from the text rather than from philosophical categories (as is done in systematic theology). Biblical theology focusses on narrative and the historical development of themes.

A common endeavor in biblical theology is to state the center of Scripture, that is, the main tension that is resolved throughout the text. Although some biblical theologians believe there is not one central theme that can be named, many theologians—Waltke included—consider the center of the Bible to be the irruption of God's holy kingship into his creation. Says Waltke,

"...the center of the Old Testament, the message that accommodates all its themes, is that Israel's sublime God, whose attributes hold in tension his holiness and mercy, glorifies himself by establihsing his universal rule over his volitional creatures on earth through Jesus Christ and his covenant people."

[Bruce Waltke, An Old Testament Theology, 144]

Waltke says later that this theme implicitly spreads into the New Testament, where the kingship of God is mostly clearly demonstrated in Jesus Christ. Now, Waltke is admittedly reformed, but I think the pervasiveness of central themes similar to this one seen in Scripture gives a certain helping proof to reformed theology. I have often heard systematic proofs of reformed theology—often seen in the shape of TULIP. And there are many micro-level text proofs that show reformed theology's faithfulness to the biblical text. But in a new way, I recognize how reformed theology fits into the narrative of Scripture with a biblical theology centered in such a way as this. Through this lens, I want to briefly look at three ways Walke's statement of the central theme of Scripture informs and supports the core tennants reformed theology.

1. The Sovereignty of God

Waltke chooses the term "sublime" to briefly describe the glory of God, while his "universal rule" over the world shows the breadth of his sovereign rule. Further, it is God irrupting his kingdom onto the world, a reflection of his sovereignty in volition.

2. The Centrality of Christ

Because the Old Testament is about the Kingdom of God, it is implicitly about Jesus Christ, the one through whom God establishes his permanent kingdom on earth. As Christ takes the foreground even in the Old Testament, it becomes clear that the crucifiction of Christ was God's sovereign plan from the beginning—further heightening a sense of the sovereignty of God. Here see also Luke 24:27, where Jesus explains to his disciples how the whole of the Old Testament points to him.

3. The Doctrines of Grace

Waltke calls the entrance of God's sovereign kingship onto the scene of history as irruption rather than erruption. If a volcano errupts, an asteroid irrupts. This relates that God—and proper relationship with him—come not from within humanity but from God. He establishes his kingdom, and He calls his children into it. Irruption leaves no place for man-made religion. God breaks onto the scene in such a way that man must respond.

4. The Cultural Mandate

Waltke argues that "This in-breaking of God's rule involves battling against spiritual adversaries in heavenly places and political, social and religious powers on earth and destroying them in righteous judgment while saving his elect." God has chosen to show signs of the coming complete redemption of the earth by mercifully holding back evil in this age. To this end, his church is called to take the Gospel to the nations, but also to be involved in their own societies as a Gospel witness through word and deed. As Israel was indicted for injustice against the poor, so the church must seek to live justly in a corrupt culture.

5. The Doctrine of Scripture

Finally, seeing how the narrative of Scripture supports reformed theology further upholds the reformed emphasis on stressing the Bible's authority and innerrancy. As we see that God is working consistently to bring about his desired ends, we gain a greater trust in Scripture as well as a greater appreciation for all parts of the biblical narrative. They have all been given to us in order that we might know the creator and redeemer God who has established his kingdom through his only Son, Jesus Christ.

The Glory to Come or, Peter's Edifice Complex

The Matthew 17 account of the Transfiguration is foremost about God revealing to a small group of disciples the full heavenly glory of Jesus even as Jesus is preparing himself—and his disciples—for his road to Calvary. Jesus, who humbled himself and became man, is transfigured by God into his glorious state and humbles himself yet again to bear the sins of the world. The core significance of this passage cannot be missed, yet at the same time Matthew is artfully telling the story of Peter's development into a broken man shaped by God's grace to be a leader in the church.

Immediately preceding the Transfiguration are two instances where Peter makes confessions regarding Jesus. In the first, when Jesus asks Peter who he thinks he is, Peter responds, "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God." Here Peter is making a correct confession: He recognizes that Jesus is the Annointed One, and even seems to have a sense of Jesus' diety.

Yet shortly after, as Jesus is explaining to his disciples that it is necessary for him to die and raise again, Peter says to him, "Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you." Here, Peter is entirely missing the point; his confession is not of the Messiah that Jesus must be.

So when Peter, James, and John are lead up the mountain by Jesus and see him Transfigured, in regard to Peter's development as a person—and at this point we are already told by Jesus that Peter is the one on whom he will build his church—the reader is wondering how Peter is going to respond.

I'll let Scripture tell the story:

And Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah." He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him."

Peter's suggestion is to make places of dwelling for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Here, they could stay in the light of Jesus' glory. In suggesting to build shelters for three, Peter shows a desire for the full reality of Jesus' glory to remain—Peter wants to stay on the mountain. Peter is not to be blamed here: He has been shown crown time, and he wants to stay there. Peter is, however, missing the point. It was necessary that Jesus come down from the mountain. It was necessary that Jesus suffered death. It was necessary that Peter eventually understood why Jesus rebuked him for suggesting otherwise. It was necessary that James and Peter be martyred for their faith.

If Jesus and the three had not come down the mountain, Christ's work would not have been completed. Peter, the rock on whom Christ would build his church, did eventually learn that the path to the glory of God is through the Suffering Servant, who calls us also to suffer—persecutions, yes, but also denying oneself. Peter had been shown Christ's glory to show him that his suffering is for a worthy purpose. Yet in his second letter, he tells us that compared to his being present at the Transfiguration, Scripture (the prophetic word) is more sure (2 Peter 1:19). So also we must wait for when Christ's glory is fully revealed. And we must see that the path to sharing that inheritance is through suffering. Yet in Scripture, we are given a sure promise, an assurance of the truth in which we can—and must—place our trust.

On "God is Love"

I am becoming increasingly convinced that Scripture and logic require one to fall into one of two theological camps: Calvinism or open theism. I know there are Arminians who disagree with this, but go with me on it.

It seems that there is a fundamental tension most everyone feels as they consider and live in faith of Jesus: If God is loving, why is there suffering, why is everyone not saved, and so forth.

In conversation with a good friend recently who is working through issues related to this, I came up with this way of describing the decision everyone has to come to: You either have to redefine what love is, or redefine who God is.

And frankly, I think if you read Scripture carefully, you'll find that in it, God reveals himself in a way that accords with Scripture's definition of love. Where I think people go astray is in first deciding for themselves what love is—apart from Scripture—and then realize that their definition of love does not fit with the God they see in Scripture. This pushes them to reject Scripture, and in turn the God who reveals himself in Scripture.

These are just my thoughts spewn out in no appealing manner. I certainly welcome discussion on this topic as I sort through these ideas more.

Imitation of the Glorious Son

Stephen's speech before the Sanhedrin in Acts 7 is a decisive turning point in the movement of the Church from being a messianic movement within Judaism in Jerusalem and Judea to being a cross-cultural message of salvation to the nations. Prior to this point the narrative is set in Jerusalem; immediately after Stephen's martyrdom we see the Gospel going to the Gentiles as Phillip ministers to the Samaritans. The transition is not coincidental.

There are three levels one can look at the narrative of Stephen's speech and martyrdom. First, from a theological perspective as a glimpse into the relationship between Israel and church, temple and Jesus, man and God. The theology that got Stephen killed comes into play later in Acts at the Jerusalem council (Acts 15).

Second, one can look at the story in terms of the corporate mission of the Church. In this light, we look most closely at the role it played in believers being sent out from Jerusalem, how it marks the end of the Jerusalem focus of the apostles in the Acts narrative, and how it has a condemning effect on the Jewish religious leaders.

However, in this post I want to look at the narrative through a third lens: the example of Stephen as a call to faithfully proclaim the Gospel at any cost. Throughout the history of the Church, some have been called to die for their faith. As Luke tells the story of Stephen, he is showing that when opportunity is given to share our faith, the Christian must do it at any cost—and that this is what it means to follow Christ.

The pattern is most clearly stated in 1 Corinthians 11:1 where Paul calls the Corinthian church to be imitators of him (inasmuch) as he imitates Christ. There is an important place in the Christian faith for us to look to those who are more mature in the faith than ourselves and see them as evidences of God's sanctifying and persevering grace. We look to the mature and see that it is God who has shaped them and grown them to maturity, and from that gain the confidence to persevere.

Stephen is described as "a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit." Luke tracks the path of Stephen in this short pericope from being one with gifting, to one who is placed in a position of leadership in the church—and serves faithfully, to one who is persecuted for his faithful ministry of the Gospel. Luke wants his reader to see that it is not just the Apostles—the superstars of the faith—who are called to take up their cross as faithful disciples. In fact, the first Apostles to be martyred is not until James the son of Zebedee is put to the sword in Acts 12.

Stephen's final questioning and execution are narrated in a manner purposefully similar to Jesus' passion. Some of the religious leaders have men bring false charges against him, the High Priest questions him, and the people seal his doom. As he dies, he both asks for the forgiveness of his killers and gives up his spirit.

All these elements are meant to show what the imitation of Christ means. The reader is invited to imitate Stephen, as Stephen immitated Jesus. But don't read Stephen's imitation of Christ as an isolated incident. Stephen lived a faithful life before he died a faithful death.

The faithful life can be seen in Luke 9: Jesus says that his disciples must deny themselves and take up their crosses daily. The daily taking up of the cross is not martyrdom, but dying to self.
Interestingly, both the Luke 9 and Acts 7 accounts are capped in the same way: a vision of Jesus in glory. In Luke 9 it is Jesus' transfiguration; in Acts 7 it is Jesus at the right hand of the Father.

Luke's ethic is this: In order to die faithfully, we must also live faithfully. This faithfulness is not of ourselves. It is of the glorified Son of Man. Because Jesus has been risen from the dead and glorified, to live is Christ and death is gain.