The Satisfaction of Good Stories

I recently took an entire week off work. It was mainly to finish my book for B&H Academic, tentatively called From Futility to Hope: A Theology for Creation Care. I also tried to unravel the knots of stress and encroaching burnout I was feeling from months of busy work, teaching Sunday School, trying to finish the book, with the only break since the New Year having been invested in the not-so-restful travel to the annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention.

To set the mood for what I hoped would be a creative and productive week of editing, I kicked the week off by reading a completely fluffy book: Lee Child’s first novel, Reacher: Killing Floor. It was a recommendation from a friend. It sounded interesting because I was looking for some relatively mindless reading that I could consume without too much effort.

Reacher met the mark. It was largely predictable and cliché. It was filled with the nearly-super hero who went to “the Point,” which is what Naval Academy graduates call their second choice. There were cultural inconsistencies, a really odd career timeline for Reacher (which Child acknowledges), and attractive women who were suddenly attracted to the rugged protagonist. Aside from the lack of sharks, the book is prime beach reading.

The story had few redeeming qualities, other than being quite engaging and thoroughly entertaining.

Sneaky Serious Content

The introduction, however, was a sneak attack on the person looking for brain candy. There are some nuggets worth considering that Childs tossed into his introduction, added fifteen years after the book was first published.

When mulling the genre of this novel, Childs assesses why his books were widely popular. It was because he was writing for the audience, but he wasn’t writing down to the audience, which results in cheesy, overdone fiction. Instead, he notes, “Along the way, I discovered I was the audience.” He quotes Chesterton on Dickens, “Dickens didn’t write what people wanted. Dickens wanted what people wanted.” Thus, he’s writing lowbrow fiction in exactly the fashion he would like to receive it.

There’s a secret there, I think. C. S. Lewis, in his essay, On Three Ways of Writing for Children, describes (1) writing down to children, (2) writing for particular children, and (3) “writing a children’s story because a children’s story is the best art-form for something you have to say.” Lewis affirms the second and participates in the third way of writing to children. The first he describes as being “generally a bad way,” which is pretty severe criticism in the vernacular of the British Isles.

Childs’ assessment is fair. It is obvious in Reacher that the writer is enjoying the little plot twists too coincidental to be believable, the overdone perfection of the main character’s ability and perceptions, and inevitability that the hero will ride off into the sunset to his next adventure.

The book—and I presume the series––rely on Reacher as the prime mover and only focus for the story. There isn’t so much a plot as performance art by the ex-Army MP. Childs admits that storyline and plot are secondary elements for his writing: “Character is king. . . . So, my lead character to carry the whole weight.” And he does.

A Western Connection

The result is a fairy story for adult males. Childs claims to have modeled it after stories of knights errant. I tend to agree with other readers who, as Childs notes, “classify the series as a set of modern-day Westerns.” Though he does not fully agree, he notes this Western-Reacher connection “is convincing in terms of feel and structure.” Childs claims not to be a fan of Westerns, but he has noted that “Westerns too have strong roots in the medieval knight-errant sagas.”

I read the introduction after I read the rest of the book—remember, I was trying to veg out. But I had already pegged this is a Louis L’Amour (Childs references Zane Grey) with more sex and more graphic descriptions of violence. Childs is on the right track here.

This is a knight-errant story. It is a modern Western. It is exactly what many readers want to read.

The Reacher Series has been successful because it provides a good guy––without doubt about his moral compass––who is trying to unself-consciously punch the big guy in the face and set wrongs to right. This is a book about a character who knows which way he is headed and won’t bend to polls or shifts in public opinion.

The Power of Stories

So many contemporary stories–-movies and books––fall short because, to quote Harry Flugelman from The Three Amigos, they “strayed from the formula, and [they] paid the price.”

This is why the recent sequel to Top Gun has had ridiculous box office success and staying power. Maverick is predictable, it is cliché, and it is thoroughly enjoyable. The same is true of Louis L’Amour and the Lee Childs novels.

What do the people want? They want someone to look up to who isn’t really just a villain in disguise. They want to be treated as if goodness, honesty, and self-confidence are admirable traits. They want the hero to win and the bad guy to lose, but not just on a technicality.

The fact that people want that—even people who think the metanarrative of Scripture is a new Facebook feature––is an indication of the eternity that is written on the hearts of all humans. (cf. Eccl 3:11) It can be a foothold for the gospel, if we are willing to tell the old, old story well.

That desire for wrong to be set right and for a hero who is a good guy can point straight to the greatest story ever told. I think that is what makes Reacher: Killing Floor such an engaging story. And that makes me question how we Christians are telling stories and telling the story.

Maybe telling the great story of Scripture is more powerful than reasoning people to Christ. And we may find it helps that our great hero story also happens to be true.

Dispatches from the Front - A Review

If you watch the news, listen to the radio, and read the usual blogs it is easy to forget a simple fact: God is on the move and the gospel will be triumphant.

Tim Keesee’s 2014 book, Dispatches from the Front, is a reminder that the light of life has the power to penetrate the darkness in a million places in the world. The power of salvation, which is made plain in the story of Christ’s life, death, burial and resurrection, is not dependent upon the perfect political conditions, but upon the message going forth and the sovereign choice of an omnipotent God.

Dispatches from the Front bears the subtitle, “stories of gospel advance in the world’s difficult places.” Though some readers might think that the subtitle refers to progress in suburban homes in the US, it actually refers to the advance of the gospel in the places where Christianity makes believers social and political outsiders. The good news about the good news is that God is on the move.

Keesee gives the reader snippets from his travels with Frontline Missions International, which was formed to get the gospel to hard-to-reach places in the world. We don’t see the months and years of plowing and tilling that went into some of the conversions, but we get to read about the baptisms, the equipping of pastors, and the growth of the gospel. There may be, for some, a danger of romanticism about getting on a plane, handing out a few tracts, and seeing communities flock to Christ. That can happen, but that is not the story behind most of these stories.

The stories Keesee presents are vitally important as an encouragement because it is a reminder that the Church will not stand or fall based on the party in power or the irrational laws that are enacted.

The book is arranged geographically. It begins in the former Soviet Bloc, then moves to the Balkans. In the next chapter Keesee travels through China with the following one detailing God’s work in Southeast Asia. Chapter Five presents the gospel advance in Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan, with the sixth chapter detailing some events from Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea. The final two chapters offer the hopeful signs of renewal in the horn of Africa and Egypt, closing with Afghanistan and Iraq.

Each of these dispatches—quick vignettes of the gospel bearing fruit and increasing—reminds readers that we have a supernatural God who works in mighty ways to accomplish his vital work in the world. For the pastor weighed down by the constant bickering about pandemic protocols, selfishness of congregations, and mundane arrangements of life in the US, this book offers a vitamin shot of encouragement about the way God can work in hard places. For the average Christian whose vision of the faith is limited to a service that can be squeezed in between travel league games and vacations, this will reveal Christian faith that energizes all of life.

Dispatches from the Front: Stories of Gospel Advance in the World's Difficult Places

By Keesee, Tim

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The Gospel of Our King - A Review

What are people for?

That is the question Bruce Ashford and Heath Thomas set out to answer in their book, The Gospel of Our King.

This book is another example of contemporary authors attempting to present the biblical storyline in a way that is fresh, innovative, and inspires appropriate action in response. Thomas and Ashford do quite well in their attempt.

Books like The Gospel of Our King are part of an effort to counteract the dominance of the metanarratives of our culture. In the West we are taught that the world exists to meet our demands and serve our presence. We custom order t-shirts to bear our favorite messages, choose the facts we will be subjected to, and select every expression of our identities. This is the story of our world. But the contemporary story is a damaging one, because it drives us away from the truer, better story of Scripture. Unlike to world’s story, God’s story, as laid out in the Bible, is life giving and conforms with reality.

The book begins by outlining the grand story of Scripture in four movements. The first four chapters of the volume outline creation, fall, redemption, and restoration, respectively. These four movement describe the arc of God’s work from the beginning of time into the future. Having offered this summary of the movements within Scripture, Ashford and Thomas turn to providing definitions for commonly misused terms, which are essential to this discussion. Chapter Five defines worldview, gospel, and mission. The final four chapters look at how a gospel-formed mission, built on a Christian worldview, works itself out in theological, social, cultural and global dimensions. None of these four terms will surprise anyone who grew up in a sound, biblical church oriented toward getting the good news of Christ’s resurrection out to the world. However, the authors put some meat on the terms by arguing that the mission of God must remain grounded in sound doctrine, expressed to people in real, often practical terms, brought to bear in culturally specific ways, across the globe to people of every tribe, tongue and nation.

The Gospel of Our King affirms the reality that we were not made for ourselves, but to serve the King of the Universe.

I have read dozens of books on worldview, the gospel, and mission. I found The Gospel of Our King to be a refreshing presentation of this topic. This is a book that I am glad to recommend. Above all, this is a volume that helped to remind me of the central purpose of the Christian life: To glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

The book is written at a very accessible level. Even though it is published by Baker Academic, this is a volume that would be helpful in a high school class or a discipleship class with believers seeking to go beyond the most basic outlines of Christian doctrine. This will also be a helpful tool for more academic settings, like an undergraduate or seminary classroom.

Perhaps more significant than its helpfulness as a teaching tool, The Gospel of Our King is encouragement even those who already know the story well. I read this in a day (in part because I read it on an airplane travel day), but I found it a balm to the soul, an exhortation to live more faithfully, and an inspiration to tell others about the gospel of our King.

The Gospel of Our King: Bible, Worldview, and the Mission of Every Christian

By Bruce Riley Ashford, Heath A. Thomas

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NOTE: I have worked with both of the authors of this book, but I enjoyed it and think it is good, so I am reviewing it.

Becoming Whole - A Review

A decade ago, When Helping Hurts released and began a paradigm shift in how evangelicals viewed poverty alleviation. So much of our vision of missions previously included doing work for the poor, especially in the developing world, and sending money and goods to developing nations.

The outcome of that vision, long term, has been less than helpful. In some cases, foreign aid has pushed out local commerce. The excess rice shipped from nations (like the US) with bumper crops (and often as a means for the government to prop up prices in the US market) were given or sold at a low price, often undercutting the markets for local grains. This means that aid has pushed local farmers in some developing nations out of the market and prevented them from being able to support themselves and uproots local markets that support dozens of people. The same story is true for textile donations (think the Super Bowl loser’s shirts), which have damaged the economy in several developing nations.

On balance, many of the ways that we’ve believed we were helping people through charity have been hurting them. This revelation shocked many faithful Christians who, with the best intentions, were harming more than hurting. Brian Fikkert, along with other people associated with the Chalmers Center at Covenant College, have since been trying to show how real help can be offered. Becoming Whole: Why the Opposite of Poverty Isn’t the American Dream is a recent entry in the conversation of how to help people in meaningful ways.

As the authors note in this preface, “This book provides a more systematic treatment of the underlying concepts and principles foundational to W[hen] H[elping] H[urts].” (pg 15) That is exactly the tone and content of the volume. If When Helping Hurts is the wake-up call to stop doing charity wrong, Becoming Whole is the theological basis that explains why aid does not work as a long-term response to poverty and the framework for a more positive vision for actually helping those in poverty. This is a volume that does a great deal more for building a foundation of ideas, but always with the view that the reader can take many of the ideas explained in the book and begin to apply them carefully on their own.

Summary

The bulk of this book is a plea for readers to understand an communicate a better story. The opposite of poverty is not consumption. The opposite of poverty is flourishing in a biblical framework. There is no question that having money and other resources are essential in alleviating the worst symptoms of human suffering, but an excess of such resources do not ensure a greater degree of happiness. For Fikkert and Kapic, true flourishing is found in living out the storyline of the gospel. As they summarize the message of the book: “there is a better life than the one you are currently living, a life of greater flourishing for both you and for people who are materially poor.” (pg. 15)

Part One of this volume calls readers to seek a new, better story; one framed around the gospel of Christ. It then argues for the primacy of human relationships, particularly loving ones, in human flourishing, and laying out a picture of how the focus of individuals and cultures shapes them.

In Part Two, the authors take on two false stories that continue to dog the steps of many Christians (even theologically conservative ones) in the majority world: (1) The trap of consumption and viewing consumption as a pathway to flourishing, and (2) the gnostic and pseudo-gnostic worldviews that undermine the value of the body and the eternal significance of physical aid. These errors drive a lot of the dis-ease in the pews of American evangelical churches and also frame much of the errant attempts at charity in and around the local church.

Part Three offers unpacks a biblical theology of human flourishing, which is mixed with insights about common American attitudes to poverty. This section is relevant to the conversations that go on in many of our Sunday Schools, around our potlucks, and in our homes. There is nothing new theologically in this section, but Kapic and Fikkert have presented it in a way that makes biblical theology obviously valuable to the reader.

Conclusion

Becoming Whole is an excellent tool to get people inside the local church to rethink poverty alleviation and, en route to that reconsideration, to think about the value structures in their own lives. I have read dozens of books on poverty and the American dream in my studies of wealth and poverty, environmental ethics, and the like. I did not want to put this book down. Each page offered new ways of explaining Christian theology in a way that is relevant to people in a dominant culture that is both gnostic and excessively materialistic.

This is volume that, along with When Helping Hearts and Practicing the King’s Economy, ministry leaders should read as they seek to form people and outline a vision for human flourishing among their own congregants and in the world around them.

Becoming Whole: Why the Opposite of Poverty Isn't the American Dream

By Brian Fikkert, Kelly M. Kapic

Buy on Amazon

NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

Is the Sabbath Normative?

This post is the second part of a discussion on whether Jesus actually broke the Old Testament Law by healing on the Sabbath. This question was raised in an online argument, which is largely irrelevant to history, but which gives opportunity for worthwhile consideration of the nature of Law, the person of Christ, and, in particular, the place of Sabbath in the life of the contemporary believer.

To recap, the previous post argues that Jesus did not sin, that he did heal on the Sabbath, that this was disliked by religious leaders of his day, and that the OT Law has three divisions: civil, ceremonial, and moral.

Is the Sabbath in Play?

If the Decalogue is still morally normative, then the practice of Sabbath is still in play. The question, then, is how to practice the Sabbath in our contemporary context.

One school of thought believes that Sabbath is still necessary, but that the principle was fulfilled in Christ, so that Sabbath for Christians is a spiritual rest in Christ. This is a biblical concept, seen clearly in Hebrews 4. In particular, verses 9 and 10 declare, “So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his.” Some who hold this view believe that the day of rest in the Sabbath was fulfilled in Christ, and therefore spiritualize present application. Although he does not argue for only a spiritualization of the Sabbath, J. D. Greear provides a helpful explanation of the fulfillment of the Sabbath in Christ in this blog.

There are some people, like Seventh Day Adventists, who take a literalist approach to Sabbath and have their worship services on Saturday. This is a consistent application, but it isn’t clear that such a literal approach is necessary. In fact, if we accept the tripartite division of the law described above, then it would seem that some of the particulars of the practice of Sabbath fall into the categories of civil and ceremonial, instead of moral law.

A third category, including much of the Reformed tradition, believe that the Sabbath is still in play and that we fulfill it largely through rest on Sunday, as a Christianized analogy of the Old Testament practices. This is witnessed in the history of the United States through the various Blue Laws. A famous example of this method of practicing Sabbath is found in Eric Liddell’s refusal to run a race on Sunday.

Synthesis

All of these three methods of applying the Sabbath have something to contribute to a robust practice of Sabbath for contemporary Christians. The literalist approach affirms the truthfulness of God’s word. Though we may argue about the actual practice, which deviates from traditional Christian practice and misses the significance of the Sunday resurrection, we can respect the importance of following God’s law.

The spiritual fulfillment is a valuable perspective for Christians because it is true. The practice of Sabbath was intended, in part, to point forward to the future rest that we will enter into by Christ’s blood, when the whole cosmos is redeemed and the toil from the curse (Gen 3:17-19) has been removed. At that time, though we will still work, we will have been glorified, creation will have been renewed, (Romans 8:18-25) and we will enter into the ultimate Sabbath rest. It remains to see whether that spiritual fulfillment eliminates any present practice of the principle of Sabbath.

The third approach, which entails the rigorous of customs adapted to contemporary contexts is good because it highlights the importance of rest, encourages corporate worship, and is an earnest attempt to honor God. At the same time, such an approach runs afoul of Christ’s own interpretation and risks becoming a burden to the people it is intended to help.

A fourth approach to the Sabbath argues, which I have not introduced before, treats the whole of the Old Testament as edifying, but believes that all forms of the Law were fulfilled by Christ (Matt 5:17). That argument is worth carrying, but would push this post beyond the current length. I will, however, offer a few simple objectives: first, those who hold this position generally create their own laws (no movies, no pants for women, ties on Sunday) to substitute for the Old Testament Laws, which put them in a worse position; second, this approach has to deal with the odd fact that most of the Decalogue is reaffirmed explicitly in the New Testament; third, this view raises significant questions about the nature of revelation in the Old Testament, specifically with the close connection between Jesus and the Old Testament (Luke 24:27).

A fifth approach to Sabbath argues that the Decalogue is the moral law and is in play, but that the fourth commandment no longer applies because Jesus didn’t practice it in the passages discussed above. This is consistent with how most contemporary Evangelicals treat the Decalogue, whether or not they can formulate that perspective fully. Not lying is good, but Sabbath is unnecessary. This approach is exegetically inconsistent and seems to be argued more for convenience than otherwise.

Practicing Sabbath

Each of the first three interpretations is helpful, but I believe they each fall short for one reason or another. The fourth and fifth interpretations are less helpful, and I believe create more exegetical problems than they solve.

If we accept that the Decalogue is the moral law, and it reflects the immutable character of our Holy God, then we should see that it is still in play. The question is how to apply it.

In Matthew 12:1-14, Jesus shows that practicing Sabbath was not fundamentally about inactivity. Rather, he argues that doing good work is explicitly lawful (v. 12). Note that he does not argue that the law does not apply, but that doing God honoring work on the Sabbath is a moral positive. There is no category for moral neutrality, either an action is sinful or morally praiseworthy.

Instead, the Sabbath is intended to provide a rest from economic activity during the week, which helps to show our trust in God’s goodness and provision. This is consistent with the statement in the Exodus 20:8-11. Jesus’ own interpretation undermines a strictly literalistic understanding of these verses. Also, considering the expositions of the Sabbath, which focus on giving the land a rest in an agrarian context, it seems that the emphasis is more on stopping ceaseless striving than on a particular form of inactivity. For example, in Exodus 23:10-12, Moses specifically records the purpose of Sabbath being for the provision of the poor and the wild beasts, as well as the refreshment of economic actors.

It is no accident that immediately preceding Jesus’ Sabbath healing in Matthew 12, he calls his hearers into his rest:

“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)

Note that the rest Jesus proposes entails work—the image of a yoke could mean little else. This is not the absence of activity, but the redirection of activity to restorative purposes. This often includes working at rest, but not a legalistic rest, the fulfillment of which entails greater effort than simply continuing to work for economic gain. In one sense, Jesus is calling people into a spiritual Sabbath, since they can rest in the fulfillment of the ceremonial law through his future propitiation. However, it is not clear that Jesus is alleviating any regular practice of literal rest as an expectation of a holy life.

Mark’s Gospel provides a slightly different telling of the Matthew 12 account in the second chapter. In Jesus’ explanation of David and his men eating the showbread, contrary to the ceremonial law, Jesus illuminates that the purpose of Sabbath, when he says: “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” (Mk 2:27)

In one sense this is entirely true in a spiritual sense. The spiritual rest of Hebrews 4 is a great blessing for humans. In another sense, however, a non-legalistic practice of Sabbath is needed now more than ever.

Jesus’ explanation of the blessing of Sabbath for humans ties closely to the ideas in Exodus 23:12, which is a refreshing rest from economic activity. If anything, Christ’s fulfillment of the law was designed to bring a greater blessing to the elect. He fulfilled the ceremonial law so that we can trust in his once and for all sacrifice for sin (Cf. Heb 10:1-18). This is a great blessing. But if the practice of Sabbath rest, particularly in the form of resting from economic activity, is intended as a blessing, then we would expect this to be amplified rather than diminished. Therefore, while the civil and ceremonial trappings of the Sabbath may no longer apply, with their limitations to a single day of rest each week, we should look for our rest to be more varied and greater.

A full consideration of the application of Sabbath would take much more space (and would reveal how terrible I am at this myself), but likely it includes a regular pattern of participation in worship, taking vacations, not being perpetually online, carving out time for physical fitness, prioritizing family activity over work, and other active, but redemptive practices. It is still likely to include simply resting and doing quiet activities, or at least activities that are refreshing to our bodies and our souls, and that differ from our daily economic toil.

Did Jesus Violate the OT Law?

A recent argument online has raised an important question about the relationship of Jesus to the Old Testament Law, and in particular the Sabbath. I’ll leave the background for interested readers to discover, but the main point that piqued my interest was the argument by some that Jesus violated the Old Testament Law when he healed on the Sabbath. (The whole argument is such a mishmash of bad exegesis, heresy, and improper inference from both sides that it isn’t worth diving into.)

The simple answer is “no.” If Jesus had violated the Old Testament Law, then he would have sinned and would not have been our Messiah. We needed a blemishless sacrifice for our own sin, which only Jesus—who is very God and very man—could provide.

Those who are arguing that Jesus violated the Moral Law of the Old Testament are implicitly arguing that Jesus sinned against God. If we accept the account of the author of Hebrews, then we know that Jesus did not sin (Heb 4:15). Or, perhaps, the Paul’s argument toward that same end might encourage us to accept that point (1 Cor 5:21). If one disagrees with the testimony of Scripture and argues that Jesus did, in fact, sin, then the rest of this argument doesn’t matter because the only real authority for theology is that person’s opinion (or whatever other source he/she deems to be, in his/her opinion worthy of the highest authority).

For those of you with me, we’ve established that Jesus did not sin.

However, Jesus did not follow the customs of the people of his day relating to the observation of Sabbath. This was a major point of contention between the religious authorities of the day and him.

Jesus on the Sabbath

For example, Jesus heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath in Matt 12:8-14 right after he explains why his disciples’ eating of gleaned grain was not a violation of the Sabbath (vv. 1-8). This made the Pharisees pretty mad, likely because he both undermined their legalistic hegemony (vv. 11-12) and because he implies that he is Messiah (v. 8).

There are other examples, as well.

Significantly, in John 5, Jesus heals a man at the pool of Bethesda on a Saturday. This leads to a full-scale decision to kill him. John is much more explicit about the complaint of the Pharisees: “This is why the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making him equal to God.” (v. 18)

This passage is important because it states explicitly that Jesus broke the Sabbath.

At this point, some might think my argument scuttled. If we read absolutely literally, then John says that Jesus broke the Sabbath. Some infer that a) some portions of the OT Law are more important than others, so Jesus didn’t sin by violating a portion of the Law; b) Jesus sinned (see above); c) the Sabbath Law was not in play for Jesus.

Options a) and c) are in play for orthodox Christians, but I don’t think either one is correct.

Although John 5:18 states that Jesus was “breaking the Sabbath,” we can recognize that John is describing the perspective of the Pharisees. When John is speaking from his own perspective he writes that Jesus “was doing these things on the Sabbath” (v. 17). In contrast, the Pharisees see Jesus’ good works as breaking the Sabbath and “making himself equal with God.” (v. 18) Of the four gospel writers, John is the clearest about announcing Jesus’ deity, so there is little question that he is not actually accusing Jesus of violating the Old Testament Law. He was violating the imposed, unbiblical norms of his day, which had been imposed on the Jews by their religious leaders in order to ensure they didn’t violate the real Law.

The Nature of the Law

There is a solid rabbinic tradition of a tripartite division of the Law in the Old Testament. This division has been largely recognized through Church History, though it is certainly not a universally held view.

Generally, the Old Testament Laws tend to be divided into the Civil, the Ceremonial, and the Moral Law. Civil laws tend to be those laws of the Old Testament that focus on the political and social administration of the people of Israel. These include the casuistic limitations on punishments for idolaters, adulterers, slavers, etc. Such laws, like the various property laws, are helpful in understanding the principles of justice, but our building codes do not require a parapet around the roof because it is no longer technologically or culturally necessary and because the nation of Israel, as a theocracy constituted in the Old Testament is no longer extant. Occasionally, actual theonomists arise (not just faithful people seeking justice in society that doesn’t match the worldview of the vogue “secular” culture) that try to enforce parts of the civil law, but it rarely goes far and is inconsistent with the way Christianity has interpreted the use of the OT Law.

The second category of Old Testament Law is the ceremonial law. These are laws related to the worship of the Israelites, including the various offerings, sacrifices, cleansings, and festivals. Even orthodox Jews do not practice this portion of the Law fully, because they have no temple in which to conduct the various sacrifices. For Christians, it is this portion of the Law that we generally understand to have been fulfilled by Christ (cf. Matt 5:17).

The third category of the Law is the moral law. These are contained in the Decalogue, or the Ten Commandments. According to the Reformed tradition, this portion of the Law is still in play for several reasons. First, it is the only portion of the Law that was actually written by God himself. (Ex 31:18) Second, the Decalogue is considered to reflect the character of God. This is the resolution to the famous Euthyphro dilemma of philosophy. God’s Law is good not by declaration of God or by pre-existence morally prior to God, but because it reflects the character of a good God. Third, most of the Ten Commandments are restated in the New Testament explicitly, and the entirety of them seem to be reaffirmed to Christ when he summarizes them in the first and second greatest commandments. (cf. Matt 22:34-40) The first greatest commandment is generally considered to summarize the first tablet of the Decalogue, with the second summarizing the latter portion of the Decalogue. Those who hold this position generally argue that the civil and ceremonial law are temporal and geographically bound applications of the moral law.

There are certainly objections to this approach to the Law, but that is a topic for another day.

More Gospel, Please

“A little more gospel, please, sir.”

That’s what we should say all day, every day. But we don’t.

We sometimes forget that the gospel is not the beginning of the Christian journey, but the sum of the Christian journey.

My tendency—which is one that I observe among other believers, too—is to simplify the gospel to a transactional event where I was gloriously converted from sinner to saint by divine grace through personal faith in the finished, atoning work of Jesus Christ. This is a true account of a portion of the gospel, but it is not the whole of the good news.

An individual’s experience of the gospel begins with the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, but it ends…well, it never ends. That last bit is as much a part of the good news—the gospel—as the original forgiveness of sins. Both are vital to experiencing a joyful Christian life.

We tend to remember the initial transaction and forget our need for a solid dose of the gospel each and every day. Those who know Christ personally have been saved (Eph 2:8-9), are being saved (1 Cor 1:18), and also will be saved (Rom 5:9).

What exactly does that mean?

It is clear from Scripture that the ongoing and future nature of salvation is not dependent upon our works—whether good, mediocre, or bad.

Through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Paul makes it clear that our works do not contribute to our salvation (Eph 2:8-9) even though we are called to good works because of our salvation (Eph 2:10). This is why James wrote that “faith without works is dead.” (James 2:14-20) The two authors are not disagreeing, but they are making it clear that the gospel seed planted into our souls when we were saved will produce good fruit if it really took root.

Lest I be accused of commending salvation by works, we should note that this helps explain why Jesus seems particularly concerned with the fruit of religious belief. John records Christ’s teaching on this in the 15th chapter of his Gospel, where Christ explains that the sign of conversion—the evidence of the work of the gospel in the lives of the converted—is bearing good fruit abundantly.

It’s that same passage that reminds us that we need more gospel. Jesus reminds his listeners, “Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear the fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” (John 15:3-4)

We need more gospel. We need to abide in Christ. We need to be transformed by the ongoing renewal of our minds, which occurs through intake of God’s special revelation in Scripture and a continual mindfulness of our dependence upon the gospel.

We are priests and kings in God’s kingdom. Because we have been undeservedly granted that status, we should be willing to stand as beggars before him to plead, “Please sir, may I have some more.”

When We Forget Salvation

It's easy sometimes to forget the joy of salvation. When life piles on and we feel tired, lonely, and discouraged it can lead us to lose sight of the hope in our hearts that is a gift from God. Sometimes it takes hearing someone's story of God's radical transformation to reawaken the flame of faith in our hearts.

The embedded video is a the story of one woman who came to faith in Christ. Listen to the account of someone who made bad choices, was victimized, and eventually saved by the power of Christ. Hear the tale of someone who responded to a message she desperately needed to hear with faith. Trust me, it's worth a few minutes of your time.

The Joy of Salvation

King David wrote Psalm 51 in a time of spiritual darkness after he had committed adultery and caused the death one of his faithful servants. In that song of repentance, David writes,

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. (Ps. 51:10-12)

The joy of salvation. It's so easy to lose when the world seems to be dark, our sin is heavy, or hope dims. But the joy of salvation should overwhelm us. It should new every morning. We need to remember that redemption is possible, and that through the blood of Christ it has been effected for those who believe. This is a powerful truth. It should animate us and fill us with an overwhelming joy. 

Used by CC License. Breaking Dawn by John Mcsporran. http://ow.ly/yIAZ3005yzt

The Gospel of Christmas

Christmas is not about presents. It isn’t about family gatherings, trees, human love, happiness, or world peace.

Christmas is about the incarnation of God himself. It is, therefore, about the renewal of all of creation.

Used unaltered by creative commons license: http://ow.ly/Whq4d 

There is nothing wrong with celebrating with family, having a tree, showing love, being happy, or striving toward peace. In many ways these things point toward the renewal of all creation.

However, Christmas is not merely about these things, but about the rich abundance that lies behind these things.

Christmas is about the gospel. The gospel made real, physical, tangible, and complete.

The Christmas Gospel

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth through his spoken word. He made everything from nothing and at the end of his flurry of creative acts, he declared it all very good.

He even made two humans to be like him, and to represent him in miniature on the earth. They were made in his very image.

However, that didn’t last very long because the first humans, Adam and Eve, messed it up by disobeying the one rule that God had given them. They didn’t take God at his word; instead they ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

As a result, God sent death into the world. Adam and Eve would surely die. So would all of their children and their children’s children.

God also cursed the ground to remind all humans that things aren’t the way they were supposed to be. Thorns, thistles, and other weeds make the process of making a living from the earth harder. They remind us of what is wrong with the world. They keep us hoping for something better that is to come.

The world got a glimpse of that better something a few thousand years ago in the form of a human child born in unlikely circumstances. That child was Jesus, God’s anointed one, and the Word of God himself.

The one who had created all things and who holds all things together stepped down into creation to become part of it and bear the curse of the whole creation to set it free from the penalty of sin.

According to Athanasius,

He, the Mighty One, the Artificer of all, Himself prepared this body in the virgin as a temple for Himself, and took it for His very own, as the instrument through which He was known and in which He dwelt. Thus, taking a body like our own, because all our bodies were liable to the corruption of death, He surrendered His body to death in place of all, and offered it to the Father. This He did out of sheer love for us, so that in His death all might die, and the law of death thereby be abolished because, when He had fulfilled in His body that for which it was appointed, it was thereafter voided of its power for men. This He did that He might turn again to incorruption men who had turned back to corruption, and make them alive through death by the appropriation of His body and by the grace of His resurrection. Thus He would make death to disappear from them as utterly as straw from fire.

And in wiping away the effects of the curse from humans, Jesus also loosed the creation from the effects of sin.

Thus, “the renewal of creation has been wrought by the Self-same Word Who made it in the beginning.”

This hasn’t yet taken effect in full.

Romans 8:19-23 tells us:

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.

The Christmas story is a historical account of how God made possible the redemption of all things from the effects of human sin. Both Luke and Matthew tell us what happened in a dusty Middle Eastern town two millennia ago, but their accounts also point beyond the details of the story to the hope that should invigorate our celebration.

Conclusion

Enjoy this Christmas. Enjoy the cookies, candy canes, ugly sweaters, and weird relatives. Enjoy the toys, the tinsel, and the many cultural accretions that have accumulated around the day.

Enjoy these things all the more because they point toward the greater hope we have in the coming renewal of all creation because Christ’s incarnation made possible the redemption of all things from the effects of sin.