Would you please bring my stuff?

I've been considering for a long time how I should read my Bible. I wish I had a nice 1-2-3 formula for how to read the Bible, but I don't. The difficulty with answering the question, "How do I read the Bible?" is the question itself. It treats the Bible as one big monolithic book. It's not that at all.

In sermons about the inspiration and reliability of the Bible, I've heard it pointed out that the Bible is a collection of writings by about 40 different authors over a period of 1500 years. I've actually verified those claims and they are more or less accurate and I believe they are evidence of inspiration and reliability. So, my question is this... Why have I not remembered this diversity of authorship and history when it comes to interpretation? Why have I treated the Bible like it's monolithic? Like there is no difference in how we should interpret First Corinthians, Acts, and Leviticus?

The Pentateuch has a purpose and an author (or authors or at least editors) and a historical and cultural context and various literary styles. The same is true about Joshua. Consider how different the collection of Psalms is from the other books. Then there is Isaiah which is beautiful and unique. Ruth stands out as different and was possibly written at a different time than the setting of the story it tells. Daniel is an astounding mix of history and figures and foretelling. Each of the Gospels has an author, an intended audience, and purpose. Acts... Revelation... I shouldn't read any of those books exactly the same way. I could go on thinking about these things for the rest of the books of the Bible. What I conclude is that there is no one-size-fits-all formula to interpret all of them. Each of them is a unique book with an author and a purpose and a historical context and a literary style, etc.

Consider more recent literature originally written in my own native language by a single author and parts of this interpretive principle still hold true. I don't read all of C.S. Lewis's books the same way because I understand that they're different in style and purpose. Why, then, would I try to take a collection of writings by different authors over many centuries and force one single style of interpreting them?

It just doesn't make sense. It recently dawned on me that I was asking the wrong question. The question is not, "How do I read my Bible?" The question is "How do I read THIS writing?" Even with that, the question is still incomplete. Even though each book in the Bible is unique, I still have to also consider that it is a unique part of a whole story. Each book is part of a story that God invites us to join. There are various over-arching themes throughout both the Old and New Testaments. Those must be considered as well or I'll miss the point of what I'm reading. Reading the Bible is not a simple formulaic 1-2-3 process.

That absence of a simple formula doesn't mean the Bible is unintelligible or that its message is only available to the intelligentsia. Not at all! Its themes are quite accessible and I'm daily thankful for our unprecedented access to the inspired scripture. Jesus boiled ALL of  it down to this: Love God and love the people He made (Matt. 22:37-40). Paul, in describing the fruit of the spirit, claims there is no law against those virtues, love, joy, peace, patience, etc. (Gal. 5:22-23). Peter, discussing "Christian graces," tells us to grow in these, faith, knowledge, love, etc. and we'll never stumble (2 Pet. 1:10). It's really not difficult to get the message. God is exactly like Jesus and He loves, serves, and forgives and He invites us to join Him in this work. God sure has made Himself accessible, even in creation itself (Rom. 1:20). God's truth is not limited to the elite.

No, God's truth and love and freedom are not only for the elite. What this absence of a uniform hermeneutic formula means is that the Bible will provide you with more than a lifetime of challenge and discovery. It's simply beautiful! The best advice I know to give anyone about reading the Bible right now is this, and this is just advice, not a formula.

1. Read it frequently and thoroughly. 
2. It is about Jesus from beginning to end. Never forget that while reading any part of it. 
3. Jesus is exactly what God is like and His nature is especially revealed on the cross. Therefore, read anything inspired by God with an extreme bias of love for the unlovable, forgiveness for the unforgivable, mercy over judgment, and with the knowledge that self-sacrificial love overcomes evil and hatred and bitterness and division and violence. 
4. Remember that it wasn't written to you all at once by one person.

My coat and books

The realization that I was asking the wrong question dawned upon me as I was reading through 2 Timothy, sent there by a reference to Hymenaeus and Philetus. This verse, 2 Tim. 4:13 jumped out at me during the reading.

The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments.

Why on earth is this included for us? How is this part of God's story? What can I learn from this? That Paul was forgetful? That it was spring when he left Troas and he didn't need his coat? Or maybe that he was generous and loaned Carpus his coat? Is this why he wanted Timothy to come before winter (verse 21)? What were the books? Were they Scripture? What did Paul read anyway? Did he have notes he had written and wanted to review them again and the Holy Spirit couldn't just make those thoughts reappear in his mind? What is this verse and why is it here? And why did I forget this verse existed? If every word of the Bible is inspired why wasn't I ever tasked to memorize this verse or the dozens of greetings and personal notes in Paul's letters?

Maybe, just maybe, that statement is there to remind us that we've been given the privilege of eavesdropping on a personal letter. Second Timothy was just that. A personal letter from Paul (I believe) to Timothy. And by skimming over this verse and others like it throughout the epistles (Tell Olympas 'nem I said hi... Rom. 16:15, etc.) for years and years, I've missed the truth that I'm not supposed to read 2 Timothy or the other epistles like a novel or a history book or legal document or, worse yet, like a blue print. I'm supposed to read 2 Timothy like it's a personal letter from an older brother to a younger brother in Christ and close friend that he loved dearly and missed greatly and had cried with many times because that's exactly what it is. It is not a church manual. It is not a creed. It is not even a preacher's manual. It is "Timothy, I love and appreciate you. Beware, some mean people are going to do some awful things to you like they have done to me. Keep your faith in the resurrection of Christ with sincere love and a pure conscience. Keep on preaching that, regardless of opposition. Brother, I can't wait to see you again." And when I keep in mind that it is that type of letter, I realize that many situations that applied to Timothy in that time do not apply to me in my time. I stop looking for specific instructions not written to me and that don't make sense to me and I instead drown my heart in the love and appreciation and principles that guided their relationship. That's what really teaches me and causes me to grow closer to God and my brethren. (Please don't misunderstand this to mean that there are no specifics that apply to us. See my last post where I point out that fasting is a specific that I have overlooked. Baptism is quite specific, etc.)

Could that be why those greetings and personal details are included? As a reminder of what we are reading? And if that's not THE reason, shouldn't their presence at least remind us of the truth that we're privileged to read a personal letter?

Rachel Held Evans has some interesting comments on this verse and several others like it. I think she is onto something. Please read that blog entry of hers.

I believe the Bible is inspired, all of it. I believe it is one way that God communicates to us. I believe it is God telling us the story of His people. I do not believe it is "just" a story, but I do believe it tells a story. I believe God invites us to join in His story and become His people. If I accept the Bible for what it is and how He gave it to us instead of trying to make it what I want it to be, it will mold me, transform me, challenge me, and point me to His Son. It will make me more like Him.

My First Lent

Until this year, Lent never had any meaning to me. The environment and culture that has shaped me has never given any importance to Lent, so neither have I. It just simply hasn't been something that has ever been on my radar. I had always assumed that Lent was just something people did because some "religious authority" told them it was time to do it. I always thought Lent was a totally man-made idea and that it was kinda silly to give up something that wasn't sinful per se just to be giving it up. I always thought it was a self-righteous look-at-me-and-how-humble-I-am kind of thing. I simply couldn't imagine how Lent could have any real spiritual value.

Boy, was I wrong. And self-righteous.

Last year, I was on business travel during the Lenten season. A man that I was working with was observing Lent. His brother is a Catholic priest and he is a devout Catholic. I had a zillion questions for him. He graciously took the time to explain Lent to me. Mind you, I have not verified any of his explanation with a google or independent research. I just took him at his word and I'm going from a year old memory. So, what I say here may be an inaccurate restatement of an inaccurate description. But I don't think it really matters.

This is the gist of what I remember from him.

1. Lent isn't supposed to be easy. (That, in and of itself probably gives it some value. Most things worth doing are not easy, so if it's nothing more than an exercise in doing something difficult, it probably still has value.) Giving up meat except for fish doesn't mean that you get fish and chips and sushi every day. The rules are not hard, fast rules. As a result, there are no loopholes. Sure, there is the Friday fish fry, but it's not quite that specific that you must give up meat and you must eat fish. You're supposed to overcome desires. It is a spiritual exercise in self-control.
2. The 40 days comes from the 40 days that Jesus was in the wilderness fasting. And 40 days is more or  less 40 days, not exact. Some people take Sundays off from lent. But the idea is to remind us of the fasting Jesus did for 40 days.
3. The main point of Lent is to make you more humble. It is NOT "look at me fasting, praying, and giving." It is a deeply personal thing designed to humble you and draw you nearer to God. Humility is the key to Lent.

That totally re-framed my thinking on the subject. Instead of broadened phylacteries as I had thought, Lent is an exercise in self-control to obtain humility and closeness to God.

So, this year, I decided to give it a try. Now, some with a similar faith-heritage (American Restoration Movement) may think my trying this is odd, but please allow me to defend myself. Fasting is something that has been pretty much ignored in our heritage. I have heard rare mention in Bible classes and private studies. I have maybe heard a couple of mentions out of literally thousands of sermons over the years. That avoidance of this command seems odd for a group that claims to follow the New Testament pattern and claims to do exactly what the Bible says. Jesus said (paraphrasing Matt. 9:15; Mark 2:19; and Luke 5:34-35) that when He leaves the earth, His disciples will fast. We see the early Christians fasting in Acts (Acts 13:2-3; 14:23) and Paul encouraging it for the Corinthians (1 Cor. 7:5; 2 Cor. 6:5). If I don't fast, I have to ask myself, "Am I a disciple of Christ?" Fasting is a characteristic of Christ's post-ascension disciples clearly set forth in the New Testament. No specific time or procedure is set forth in the New Testament for fasting, so I do not criticize or condemn anyone for not observing Lent or any other specific fast. However, speaking for myself, fasting is something that I had never given any serious consideration. I believe I was missing something good for me, given from God. Lent seemed as good an opportunity as any to begin to obey God in this.

Since the rules for Lent are not specific, you can choose what you will give up, but it shouldn't be easy. So, in choosing what to give up, I was looking for something that was not easy for me and something that would have a physical and spiritual benefit. I chose three fairly common things to give up: meat (except fish), chocolate, and ice cream. Sound easy? It was and it wasn't.

First, giving up meat is something that I have been working on for over a year now. I haven't completely given it up, mainly because I live in the South and it's sometimes just plain rude to be a vegetarian. Also, I do enjoy eating meat. Those two things combine to make it difficult for me to give up meat. But I want to abstain from meat as much as possible.

I believe that the meat we consume today makes its way to our table in extremely unethical and unnatural ways. It is not good for us physically because of the antibiotics and steroids and GMO corn based diet of the animals. Also, modern factory farms are inhumane. Finally, and most important to me is the mental health of the employees in factory farms and modern slaughter houses. Those people suffer greatly and my conscience disturbs me when I eat factory farmed flesh. Sometimes, though, I'm in a situation of choosing the lesser of two evils. Eating meat that would likely be thrown away otherwise seems less evil than directly insulting someone's loving and thoughtful effort to serve me. And sometimes, I just want a steak or a cheeseburger, so I order one. I don't judge you for eating meat. (Ok, I'll end my meat rant now and leave it at saying I wish there were something more I could do to improve the process of supplying meat to American consumers.)

So, a big spiritual benefit of giving up meat is that I daily prayed for workers in factory farms and slaughterhouses. Their plight was often on my mind and I prayed for them. I prayed for wisdom and opportunity to help. I prayed that more humane ways of beef, pork, and poultry farming would emerge. While I did eat meat twice during Lent, I did become more conscious of the life and freedom that was lost for my own pleasure.

Chocolate and ice cream were exercises in self-control that I needed. As I was tempted to partake, I reminded myself that this life is not about pleasure for myself. Depriving myself of pleasure is necessary to accomplish any worthy goal. I had become a daily consumer of ice cream and/or chocolate, and I was a slave to its pleasure more than I realized. Lent helped me to break those chains. Also, I cheated, three times during the six weeks. That's not a good record. It reminded me of Jesus in His 40 days and how infinitely more difficult it was for Him to resist making stones to bread. It made me appreciate His lifetime of self-control in a way that I hadn't before.

There were a few unexpected consequences of observing Lent. One was that I felt a connection to Christians throughout the world with other cultural and traditional backgrounds. Also, I felt a connection to history and sensed the value of church traditions that is sometimes lost in modern American evangelicalism.

The biggest unexpected consequence was that I longed to celebrate Easter. That seemed to me to naturally grow from the Lenten season. I gave special attention to the stories on each day of holy week. I read and meditated upon the accounts of the last week of Jesus' life. It was a very special time of study, meditation, and prayer for me. And I was rewarded and surprised with an outstanding telling of the resurrection story and an amazing sermon on the importance of the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday morning.

Now, here again, this may seem odd to those in my tribe (American Restoration Movement). We are more accustomed to viewing Easter something like this... "Easter is not mentioned in the New Testament. Remembering the resurrection should not be just an annual event. We're commanded to remember the death of our Lord every first day of the week by observing the Lord's Supper." To that I respond this way... First, it is true that remembering the resurrection should not just be done annually. The resurrection should be ever present in our minds. Second, we're not commanded to take the Lord's Supper every week. There is an example of one church intending to observe the Lord's Supper one Sunday (Acts 20:7), but they didn't actually observe it on Sunday (Acts 20:11). Also, there's nothing that makes that mandatory for all churches everywhere. And the resurrection isn't really the emphasis of the Lord's Supper anyway. Third, if every Sunday is special, then no Sunday is special. Fourth, why would we miss an opportunity to talk about the resurrection? Paul sought every opportunity to talk about the resurrection. If people are already thinking about the resurrection of Jesus on a specific Sunday, why would we NOT talk about it? When is a good time to talk about the resurrection of Jesus? ANY TIME. ALL THE TIME. Finally, Easter is not like Christmas. In America, Christmas has become so commercialized that I can't imagine it ever overcoming the consumerism, avarice, and indulgence. Also, we don't know when Jesus was born. Easter, on the other hand, is not nearly as commercialized. And though there is some dispute between Eastern and Western churches about exactly which Sunday, we have a very good idea of which Sunday Jesus arose in relation to the Jewish calendar. While I never would insist that anyone observe any holiday, I totally reject the notion that it is a sin to observe Easter as a holiday. I am 100% opposed to condemning someone for observing Easter.

So, what's the point of all of this? What is the take-away? It's not, "Observe Lent," though you can and I'd recommend it at least once. It's not "We need to fast," though we do and I need to do it more. It's not "Easter is okay," though Easter is okay and is a great opportunity to talk about resurrection. It's not "Become a vegetarian," though that is a healthier and more sustainable choice. Those are all things that I learned through observing Lent, but none of those are the main point.

Here's the main point I learned. Do not assume that someone else's chosen way to honor God is less spiritual than your chosen way to honor God. Do not assume that others' traditions and customs have no value because they are not your traditions and customs. God can use a variety of actions to draw a pure heart closer to Him. I'm glad He used Lent this year to draw me closer to Him. I pray that I learned lasting lessons about self-control, prayer, and love so that I can be more like Him.

God Suffers with Us

I don't make any claim to be an expert on the topic of suffering. It's just a topic that I've thought about quite a bit lately. I feel a bit inadequate to even address this. Though I've experienced some suffering, I am really blessed beyond description. I have had a very easy life. Honestly, that bothers me some. I don't know what Paul meant when he said, "I know how to abound and I know how to be abased." I only have proof that I don't know very well how to abound. But, here go some of my thoughts on suffering, especially how that the presence of suffering does not imply that God is not good.

You probably remember the story of the young boy in Alabama who was held hostage in a bunker for 5 days. That story was bizarre to say the least. The boy was rescued and returned to his parents safely, but I wouldn't call anything about that story happy, not even the ending. The innocent bus driver was shot and killed when the boy was kidnapped. The angry and violent kidnapper was shot and killed when the boy was rescued. (No, I do not think that is happy.) The young boy had to suffer indescribable fear and anxiety for 5 days and saw too much death and violence. And the parents... I can't imagine their agony and worry. No, there is nothing happy here.

The day the boy was rescued, February 4, 2013, an atheist friend of mine posted something similar to this on Facebook.

I'm a little curious seeing all the posts about this rescue being an answer to prayers... Did god not see fit to protect the bus driver or prevent the child from suffering 5 days as a hostage?

Okay, Christians, we have to admit that he has a point. How do we know that his rescue was an answer to prayer? Yes, we know that prayers were offered on behalf of the boy. Yes, we know that God did not want the boy to suffer. But how do we know that God intervened in any supernatural or providential way to rescue the boy? Do we know that? No, we don't know the answers to those questions. Yes, prayer works and is helpful. But why did God not answer sooner? Why did God not prevent the murder of the bus driver as he valiantly tried to protect the children? Why did God not make a way for the boy to be rescued without witnessing the killing of the kidnapper?

I don't know. I don't know why that boy suffered. I don't know why his parents had to endure hell on earth for 5 days. I don't know why the bus driver was murdered.

Also, I don't know why my grandfather suffered from Alzheimer's disease until he couldn't recognize his own children when he died. I don't know why my best friend lost his amazing dad when we were 12 years old. I. Don't. Know. I do know that prayers were offered in all of those cases. And I do know that God is good and He hears and cares and He is able to do anything that is possible. But apparently, eliminating suffering from this cosmos without re-creating it is not possible. (On a side note, re-creating it is something that God has promised He will do.)

Back to my atheist friend. I am always slow to think of what to say. I missed an opportunity because I'm slow. I didn't say anything because I was looking for the right words. If I had said something, this is what I would have said.

There have been times that I have looked at the beauty and the expanse of the universe we live in and said, "There must be a god." At other times, I've looked at the immeasurable suffering and said, "There can't be a god, at least not a good one." I confess, I don't have the answers for the suffering and evil I see. I don't understand why some prayers seem to be answered and some are not. And I even confess that I don't know whether the young boy's rescue was an answer to prayer or not. But I know that his rescue was good. And his capture and the bus driver's murder was bad. Even the kidnappers death was bad. The world is full of both good and bad. So, I can't believe in a God whose goodness is defined by the absence of suffering. That's contrary to mounds of evidence that I see. Some may accuse me of making God in my own image, but the only God I can believe in is one who knows what it's like to suffer. That's precisely the God that the gospel reveals, One who suffered immensely and unjustly and chose not to protect Himself from it. Even His own prayer for relief from suffering went unanswered. Yet He loved and did good for others and helped bring relief and comfort in their suffering. I want to love and follow a God like that.

I'm sorry that I missed an opportunity to share God's love with my atheist friend. I'd love for him to see and understand that God isn't really like many people say that He is. God is not a cosmic vending machine. Many portray Him that way, and it is an illogical turn off for skeptics.

A couple of weeks after this story, I was asked to choose my favorite passage from the Bible and read it to the congregation and make a short comment about it. This is what I chose and roughly what I said.

Mark 15:34. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?" which means, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"
With all the suffering that I see and have experienced in the world, you can say I'm making God in my own image if you want, but I can't worship a God who keeps Himself above all the suffering. I can't worship a God who blames others for suffering and gives pat answers about what is good and takes no responsibility for suffering. No, I worship a God who knows exactly what it's like to feel God forsaken and completely overwhelmed with emotional and physical pain, and to even have His prayer for relief from suffering go unanswered (Mark 14:36). I worship a God who joins us in our suffering.

I don't have answers. I'm a miserable comforter to those who are suffering. All I know to do is weep with those who weep. Even what I've said here probably seems like platitudes and pat answers. But what I do when I'm suffering is trust. I trust Him who suffered not only for me, but so He can relate to me. I pray that I can learn to face suffering courageously and to gently and lovingly comfort those who are suffering, more like Him.

What Is God Like?

My image of God has gone through transformation recently. Primarily, this transformation has been based on what Jesus said about God and Himself. Also, it has been based on what the rest of the New Testament says about Jesus. This transformation of my image of God is based on Scripture and I'm disappointed that I haven't grasped what the Scripture says before. I believe that I have a LONG way to go to mature in this view, but I recently had a breakthrough when reading the book of John.

I honestly admit that I have a difficult time imagining God. God seems abstract to me and always has. When I'm honest, even the concept seems nebulous. A being that exists beyond space-time? Space-time is all that I really know. I don't really like not being able to understand or describe concepts. I'm an engineer by education and by choice. I analyze data to find precise answers. I work better with the concrete. I need specific definitions. I prefer discrete to mysterious, and the Bible sometimes presents God as mysterious. I prefer homogeneous to paradoxical and the Bible offers paradoxical portraits of God. I struggle to understand and reconcile and accept this.

Most everything else that I know and I am familiar with, I can describe with words or symbols. I can describe my house. I can describe my car. I can even describe things that I can't see, like electricity or wind. I can describe how to solve a math problem or how to build a voice or data network. I can even describe more abstract things. For example, I can describe my emotions. I can describe happiness, sadness, anger, calmness, love and hate. But I struggle to describe God and I always have.

Who is God? What does He do? How does He treat people? How does He use His power? What does He want to tell us? What does He want from us?

Then, it hit me. Why am I so obtuse? Why am I so slow to learn?

John 5:19 Jesus gave them this answer: "I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by Himself; He can do only what He sees His Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does." 

John 8:19  If you knew Me, you would know My Father also.

John 10:30  I and the Father are One.

John 12:45 The one who looks at Me is seeing the One who sent Me

John 14:7 If you really know Me, you will know My Father as well.

John 14:8-9 Philip said, "Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us." Jesus answered: "Don't you know Me Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen Me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?

God looks and acts exactly like Jesus. So simple yet so profound. The book of John really nails this point. There is this cycle throughout the book: one or more claims that Jesus is God followed by one or more stories that tell us something Jesus did. The message of John is so plain. Jesus is God. This is what God does.

Jesus is God.
God loves and helps the helpless. (water to wine) 

Jesus is God.
God loves and talks to and teaches the self-righteous. God loves and associates with and teaches the outcasts and immoral. (Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman)

Jesus is God.
God brings hope and healing to the lame. 

Jesus is God.
God rescues and does not condemn the adulteress. 

Jesus is God.
God gives sight to the blind.

Jesus is God.
God raises the dead!

Jesus is God.
God offers the most humble service (even washes nasty feet) and expects us to do the same.

Jesus is God.
God overcomes evil and violence with self-sacrificial submission and love.

Jesus is God.
God overcomes death!!!

John isn't just one book with a unique message in the canon. No, the early disciples agree. The rest of the Bible agrees. The main point of the Old Testament is Jesus (John 5:39, 45-46; John 1:45; Luke 24:27, 44, etc. etc.). The books included in the New Testament canon were included because they testify of Jesus.

The Hebrew writer said that the way God speaks to us now is through His Son, who is the EXACT representation of God's being (Heb. 1:1-3). Paul agrees. He wrote that the Son is the image of the invisible God (Col. 1:15). ALL of the fullness of God dwells in Jesus (Col. 1:19; Col. 2:9).

Do you see how profound that is? God is not a book. God is not a doctrine. God is not a church. God is not rules. God is not a feeling. God is not a relationship. God is not an egotistical cosmic despot. God is Jesus. God is perfectly and completely revealed to us in the person, Jesus. Others-oriented, self-sacrificial, loving, and serving. In the past, when I've referred to the word of God, I've primarily meant the Bible. However, when the Bible refers to the word of God, it primarily means Jesus. I wanted words and symbols to describe God, but God gave me a person. This is what John was talking about when he said the the Word was God. Jesus is God's word.

The way God has always been, the way God is, and the way God always will be is shown in Jesus. Any concept of God or view of God that is incompatible with Jesus is erroneous.  Jesus is how God has chosen to reveal Himself to us. The Bible helps us to understand God in that the Bible says that the exact, flawless, complete revelation of God is Jesus. The Bible points us to Jesus, from beginning to end. It must be read that way.

This same Jesus dwells in us by His Spirit and wants us to grow to be made more like Him.

Restudying

When challenged about changing his mind on economic policy, John Maynard Keynes is reputed to have answered:

When my information changes, I alter my conclusions. What do you do, sir?

Whether he actually said that or whether it is original to him is up for some debate. Regardless, he did change his mind on some key economic issues and he was criticized for changing his mind, and was sometimes in the spot of defending his change of opinion. He probably did say something very similar to that at some point.  Anyway, those are wise words. I think it's fair for a person who is committed to learning and committed to truth to change his mind. New knowledge and experience sheds new light.

In contrast, one criticism I've heard of John Calvin is that he first published his definitive work,  The Institutes of the Christian Religion, in 1536 at the age of 27. There were several later editions with the final edition published in 1559. However, most agree that there were no substantial changes to the theology set forth in the original. So, between the age of 27 and 50, John Calvin didn't significantly change his mind on any theological topic. I think that criticism is legitimate. Calvin was a brilliant mind and his asceticism was incomparable. To produce a volume that monumental at the age of 27 is remarkable and I do not want to diminish that accomplishment. However, I find it quite suspicious that his theology did not change during those 23 years (or ever after that). Was he so knowledgeable and experienced and mature at the age of 27 that he was able to systematize his theology so airtight and perfectly that it required no significant change? Or did he stubbornly defend what he already believed and had already written in his magnum opus? The latter seems more likely to me.

John Calvin, Father of Reformed Theology

I see a similar problem with commitment to orthodoxy today. I'm afraid that many churches have a commitment to "fundamental" doctrines that is similar to Calvin's commitment to his Institutes. The conclusions are already defined. A member can study and research all he wants. Restudy, even. However, after the study and research, he still has to come back to orthodoxy. Anything other than orthodoxy will likely be met with resistance, suspicion, rebuke, and/or even derision. One may even get kicked out of fellowship or told that he is not really a Christian, all because he doesn't accept the group's orthodoxy after honest study and research.

In these churches, you can research archaeology, science, biology, and history all you want. Pursue degrees, even doctorate level degrees, in those disciplines. But in the end, you have to come back to the position of a literal Adam who lived 6,000 years ago beginning on the sixth literal day of the existence of the universe. You have to come back to the conclusion that Moses authored all of the Pentateuch. You have to conclude that the Exodus, wandering, and conquest happened exactly how the Bible describes them. If you don't come to those conclusions, your fellowship is at risk.

Another example, study hermeneutics all you want. Research how the Jews throughout history read and interpreted their Scripture. Research how the early church fathers read and interpreted the Bible. Learn all the Greek and Hebrew you can. It's especially good to learn Greek and Hebrew. But all of this learning and research is only good if you come back to the inerrantist / fundamentalist approach (unknown to the world before the 19th century) as the only valid way to interpret the Bible. Otherwise, you'll likely be accused of not having a high regard for Scripture.

And still another example... Restudy the topic of hell all you want. Find out all that the Old Testament says about it. Learn the Jewish beliefs between the testaments about the ultimate end of the wicked. Find out what people in Jesus' day believed. Find everything Jesus said about it. Consider all that the New Testament authors said about it. Find out what the early church fathers believed. But when you're finished with that, you must conclude that we have an immortal soul and that the wicked will be consciously tormented every second of all eternity in hell. Otherwise, much of evangelical Christendom will turn on you.

I could add more examples, but I think these make the point. Evangelical Christians have a problem. And dare I be so bold as to specifically mention my own group, the churches of Christ, as having this problem in particular. The problem is that the commitment to defending certain orthodox views and excluding those who don't hold those views is stifling the freedom to ask questions and learn and grow. Certain questions are off-limits. (This is not true of all evangelical churches nor is it true of all churches of Christ. For example, the church that I am a member of now is certainly not like this. I have immense grace and freedom to ask questions and discuss "off-limits" topics. I try to exercise that freedom responsibly, not attempting to persuade and not pressing too firmly on uncomfortable issues.)

The message that this commitment to orthodoxy sends is this. Certain issues are decided. Truth has been found. Restudy all you want. Just don't draw any different conclusions on these issues, no matter what else you learn. When issues are decided and codified, all you're allowed to learn when restudying are new arguments that support the existing orthodoxy. You may tweak the existing orthodoxy slightly to make it more resistant to arguments against it, like Calvin did, but you are not allowed to contradict these orthodox positions. I've even heard it said, "When someone says they're 'restudying' something, that means that they don't like the truth on that topic any more." I've restudied several topics, and I don't remember ever doing so because of an aversion to truth (or even just because I didn't like what I already believed). However, new (to me) information has prompted restudy several times.

So what's the solution? I don't know, except that we must eliminate the "they don't like the truth" rhetoric. Likewise, those who disagree with orthodoxy must also show gentleness and love. Questioning these issues is extremely uncomfortable, and frankly, not everyone is interested in asking these questions. That's okay. Those willing to question and even change their view on orthodox issues must be sensitive to that. They must not hold contempt for those who are comfortable with and/or agree with existing doctrines.

Some think, and will tell you flatly, that when interpretations differ, it's because one or both parties are wrong. When that narrow view of truth is held by one or both parties in a discussion, the discussion often becomes a contest to see who can resist admitting a mistake first. The first to admit a mistake loses the debate and nobody wants to do that. Then, pride, rather than love, wins. Rachel Held Evans has an excellent post on how to respond when our interpretations differ. I love this quote from that post.

In some cases, folks are so committed to their particular views on these issues they seem incapable of making a distinction between the Bible itself and their interpretation of it, and so any critique of that interpretation is seen as a critique of Scripture itself!  And so we miss one another entirely. Instead of a lively, impassioned debate about the text, we engage in lively, impassioned debates about one another’s commitment to the faith.

I've seen that play out too many times. I've been both the perpetrator and the victim in those kinds of discussions. It's not good and it doesn't display a Christ-like spirit. Is being right the basis (or even a goal) for unity or is service to one another and service to the community, Christ-like love in other words, the basis for unity? Let's strive to make Christ-like love, not orthodoxy, the basis for unity.

Book Review: In His Steps

I was reading one of my favorite websites, Patrick Mead's tentpegs, and he recommended the book In His Steps by Charles Monroe Sheldon. I looked about on Amazon, and lo and behold, the Kindle edition is free! I couldn't resist free, so I downloaded it and read it fairly quickly. It's an excellent classic that I can't believe I had never heard of before now. As Patrick Mead said about the book, when you read it, it may change your life. You've been warned.

The book was first published in 1897, so it's a classic to say the least. This book is basically "What would Jesus do?" before WWJD was cool. Way before WWJD was cool. Or a bracelet.

The book begins with a homeless man who is out of work and desperate to feed his family. He rings the doorbell at Henry Maxwell's house one Friday. Henry Maxwell is the preacher at the First Church of Raymond, and a fine preacher at that. The First Church is wealthy and comfortable and among its congregants are members of the highest of society in Raymond . Maxwell is behind in his preparation and had already been interrupted several times this Friday. He answers the door. He's polite enough, but doesn't actually do anything for the homeless man. He sends him away and the tramp continues to go door to door begging for work.

Sunday, the same tramp shows up at the First Church and begins to tell his story to the congregation. He's very respectful, calm, and polite. He waits until Reverend Maxwell is finished speaking to address the congregation. As he is telling his story, he collapses there in front of the congregation. Rev. Maxwell takes him into his care, and he dies just a few days later, before his family can arrive.

The following Sunday, Reverend Maxwell is obviously affected by the past week's events. He is changed. He challenges his congregation to do nothing, absolutely nothing, without first asking the question, "What would Jesus do?" Several members accept the challenge, and take it very seriously. The rest of the book follows the characters who take the challenge, and the difference they make in the lives of so many in the town of Raymond, and then the movement spreads to Chicago where more lives are changed.

It's a beautiful collection of stories of selflessness. There are characters who resist the challenge. Others take it but do not follow through. Those who take the challenge seriously are changed forever in ways they wouldn't have imagined.

And this isn't just the trite, "Would Jesus steal that candy? Would Jesus smoke that cigarette? Would Jesus take that drink?" No, it isn't just about what Jesus would NOT do, though the characters absolutely conclude that there are things they are doing daily that Jesus would not do. This book is much more about what characters actively DO for others.

A newspaper editor risks his fortune and loses a lot of it because he refuses to print sensational stories and prints positive ones instead. A foreman at the railroad improves the working conditions for his employees and arranges for them to know Jesus. An extremely talented singer foregoes singing in front of crowds of wealthy people and instead chooses to use her beautiful voice to draw poor and hopeless people to Jesus. A reverend leaves his position at a wealthy church to risk his life and serve his community in the roughest part of town. A group take on the political challenge of closing the saloon. What if every Christian really took this challenge seriously? Would the world be a markedly different place? Would we see the kingdom come and God's will being done on earth as it is in heaven?

I'll be honest. This book has caused me to lie awake at night. I realize that I have found it too difficult to honestly ask and answer the question, "What would Jesus do?" It's not so much guilt and shame as it is a sense of helplessness. I'm praying that I will have the courage to do what Jesus would do. To have the courage to help others, to relieve their suffering when I am able and to suffer with them when I am not. I'm praying that I will be made more like Him, as were the characters in this book. If you've read the book and have some encouragement for me, please, contact me.

The Greatest Is Love

This post is related to my post about how to read the Bible. In that post, I recommended NT Wright's suggestion that we read entire books and entire letters at once instead of in small chunks. Taking this advice, I sat down and read all of First Corinthians. What caused me to read 1 Corinthians is that I stumbled upon a quote from chapter 15 that intrigued me and I wanted to see it fit. (In my opinion, chapter 15 is one of the most important chapters in all of the New Testament letters. Maybe more on that at another time.) During this reading, though, chapter 13 jumped out at me.

Reading 1 Corinthians as a whole and using it as a window through which to view the entire New Covenant changed my perspective on this chapter. Previously, I had used 1 Corinthians 13, especially verses 8-13, to condemn those who claim that the Holy Spirit works and lives in God's people today in a supernatural way. Why would such a beautiful description of love be used to condemn? I had totally missed the point.

When Paul wrote this beautiful chapter, the church at Corinth was a mess. He had already dealt very forthrightly with many of their problems in the chapters prior to this one. They were proud of their own wisdom and knowledge. They were divided personally, claiming allegiance to different preachers. They were divided spiritually by taking pride in their various spiritual gifts and holding other spiritual gifts in contempt. They were divided socially with the rich mistreating and shaming the poor, especially during the Lord's Supper. They were going to court over some of their differences. Apparently, some were not even convinced that there is only one God. They were tolerating, even taking pride in sexual immorality in their congregation. Their assemblies were chaos. Numerous men and women were interrupting one another and speaking over one another in the assembly. Some were even denying the resurrection. What a mess of jealousy, envy, bitterness, injustice, immorality, carnality, heresy, and rudeness!

What caused these problems? They lacked love. Chapter 13 is a beautiful description of love. It's filled with figures that magnify love. And love is the remedy to their problems. Let's read it together...

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And if I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not its own, is not provoked, taketh not account of evil; rejoiceth not in unrighteousness, but rejoiceth with the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
(1Co 13:1-7 ASV)

Even the greatest of spiritual gifts and good deeds, if they are not from love, are meaningless. Love is filled with virtue and absent of any bad thing. Love never fails. Then, Paul finishes this chapter in a surprising way. What follows almost seems not to fit. Paul, in the midst of that beautiful description of love, says that we are at present incomplete, but we will be completed. Notice the present incompleteness below.

Love never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall be done away; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall be done away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part; but when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child: now that I am become a man, I have put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know fully even as also I was fully known. But now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
(1Co 13:8-13 ASV)

This chapter is far more than a simple exhortation to love. Sure, patience, humility, truth, and forgiveness, love in other words, is our duty. But if viewed as a duty, it can at best bring temporary change. This chapter is telling us more than that. Love is ultimately what will characterize us when God completes His redemptive work in us. What NT Wright says about this chapter in Surprised by Hope on page 287 is beautiful.

The point of 1 Corinthians 13 is that love is not our duty; it is our destiny. It is the language Jesus spoke, and we are called to speak it so that we can converse with him. It is the food they eat in God's new world, and we must acquire the taste for it here and now.

This chapter is pointing to a glorious future with love. And Paul goes on to describe this resurrection future for us in chapter 15. Love is the greatest virtue of all, even greater than faith and hope. We will be resurrected and perfected in love! That's the point of this chapter.

I don't really understand how I once used this chapter to condemn others. I don't now understand how I could have drawn such a hard line that the "perfect" in verse 10 was the completed New Testament canon. Paul, as best as I can tell, never gives any indication of a completed canon and it is doubtful that his readers would have understood such a reference. I once thought that those who did not agree that the "perfect" was the canon were simply looking to justify their own disorder and good feelings. That was a harsh and presumptive position to take.

I don't believe that this chapter is at all about the canon of the New Testament. This chapter certainly isn't about condemnation. This chapter no more condemns supernatural spiritual gifts than it condemns anything else, except a lack of love, which it indirectly condemns quite a fair amount. Let this chapter remind us that a surprising, no an astonishing, destiny of love awaits us in the resurrection and we need to be busy preparing ourselves for that destiny right now. 

To be sure, I'm not saying that verses 8-13 can't be interpreted to support cessation of supernatural gifts though I disagree with that interpretation. Sure, now with a knowledge of history and a knowledge of the canon, one can read cessation back into this text. However, I can't imagine that the readers at Corinth would have understood the "perfect" to refer to the canon. I don't think that is an unreasonable or dishonest interpretation. I understand the arguments for it, and those arguments make some sense but they also have some flaws. I don't believe this passage teaches a cessationist position, but that's not the point. When its primary use is to prove a cessationist position, and then that position is held to very strongly and used to condemn others, then this passage has been abused. The theme of this passage is love, not condemnation and not cessationism.

I pray that I will be resurrected to a destiny of perfect love. But until then, I pray that I can grow in love to be more like Him.