It seems to me that from beginning to end the Bible deals with righteousness in two different ways. In the normal affairs of men and nations, it's the deciding factor, the "plumb line". God taught mankind to develop laws and to regulate the consequences of breaking them. 'Justice' is a towering and passionate theme in His conversation with us, for He suffers out of His love for the oppressed, the scorned, the victims of the stronger. And then time and again, He seems to switch His perspective and talk to us about mercy and forgiveness, and His intention to forget completely whatever we've done wrong:
"The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust" (Psalm 103:8-14).
Of course, He isn't being inconsistent. The difference lies in what we are experiencing. When I am determined to ignore God and go my own way, my inherently flawed nature brings me to grief and the consequences are bitter. But if I give up on myself and throw myself upon His mercy, then He restores our relationship together and He holds absolutely nothing against me. That's God: He can. But us: how very difficult it is to accept that. It seems so unfair. Even while I am delighted to hear His words of forgiveness to me, deep down I doubt. I'll probably keep judging my brother and placing some moral conditions around forgiveness. You know, things like 'You can't be right with God if you are gay'. And I'll remain, maybe only at an unconscious level, doubtful of such unconditional grace.
It's only our beholding and embracing the crucified Son of God, with heart and soul and strength, which finally frees us from these doubts and fears and completely "cleanses from a guilty conscience" (Hebrews 10:22). There on the Cross, He totally identifies with our state, whether pitiful or vicious, and shows there's nothing about it which deters His love.
'OK, Lord, I can accept that if the books are balanced and You punish Jesus instead of me'.
'Hush, My child, My love keeps no record of wrongs. They require no satisfaction - that is still your unhealed heart speaking.'
Jesus tried in all kinds of ways to communicate this truth to us, as He told stories to the common people, taught His disciples, and finally demonstrated it on the Cross.
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
No 10: To Provide the Basis for our Justification
This chapter is an awfully complicated bit of reasoning, and I do wonder what my fellow church members make of it. I have a word from the Holy Spirit for the perplexed: "It's OK if you don't understand it, or even like it."
There seems to be little flaw in our evangelical DNA which comes out as an anxiety, or insecurity about, believing the right doctrines. I'd like to pass on God's permission to you to accept St Paul as God accepts him, whilst being honest with yourself that the way he sees some things just doesn't always 'float your boat'. He'd be the first one to agree - there's great wisdom in Romans 14. But that too is wrapped up in a very Pauline way, which may put some off.
It's a miracle of God's grace that the first apostles apparently stayed united - especially when St Paul bursts in on the scene. The tensions and difficulties they had surface a number of times. St James pretty well goes head-to-head with St Paul over salvation by faith alone (James 2:24). Martin Luther was so passionately attached to St Paul that he said James was 'a letter of straw'! St Peter and St Paul seemed to have agreed a modus vivendi whereby they kept to separate mission fields (Galatians 2:9). You can sense all these human issues in St Peter's closing words to his second letter: 'Bear in mind that our Lord's patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote to you with the wisdom that God gave him. He writes in the same way in all his letters, speaking in them of these matters. His letters contain some things that are hard to understand ...' (2 Peter 3:15-16). And then St John! The apostle for the contemplative, mystical believer. It's very rare to hear a preacher majoring on St Paul, weaving in anything from St John, or vice versa. Yet St Paul's mystical side is second to none.
Ideally, we shouldn't say "I'm for Paul", or "I'm for John". But be kind to yourself, like God is. Don't beat yourself up about being baffled or put off Paul for now. Honour the place where you are now, throw yourself passionately into the relationship God has given with Himself and His truth now. Remember, every point of view is just that - a view from a point. Relish and live your spiritual life to the full at the point you are now.
I've realised that it's the only option actually. I see, experience and understand only a tiny part (1 Corinthians 10:9), and what I can now won’t be what I will tomorrow. I’m certain of that, because I can look back to see how far I’ve repented and changed.
There seems to be little flaw in our evangelical DNA which comes out as an anxiety, or insecurity about, believing the right doctrines. I'd like to pass on God's permission to you to accept St Paul as God accepts him, whilst being honest with yourself that the way he sees some things just doesn't always 'float your boat'. He'd be the first one to agree - there's great wisdom in Romans 14. But that too is wrapped up in a very Pauline way, which may put some off.
It's a miracle of God's grace that the first apostles apparently stayed united - especially when St Paul bursts in on the scene. The tensions and difficulties they had surface a number of times. St James pretty well goes head-to-head with St Paul over salvation by faith alone (James 2:24). Martin Luther was so passionately attached to St Paul that he said James was 'a letter of straw'! St Peter and St Paul seemed to have agreed a modus vivendi whereby they kept to separate mission fields (Galatians 2:9). You can sense all these human issues in St Peter's closing words to his second letter: 'Bear in mind that our Lord's patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote to you with the wisdom that God gave him. He writes in the same way in all his letters, speaking in them of these matters. His letters contain some things that are hard to understand ...' (2 Peter 3:15-16). And then St John! The apostle for the contemplative, mystical believer. It's very rare to hear a preacher majoring on St Paul, weaving in anything from St John, or vice versa. Yet St Paul's mystical side is second to none.
Ideally, we shouldn't say "I'm for Paul", or "I'm for John". But be kind to yourself, like God is. Don't beat yourself up about being baffled or put off Paul for now. Honour the place where you are now, throw yourself passionately into the relationship God has given with Himself and His truth now. Remember, every point of view is just that - a view from a point. Relish and live your spiritual life to the full at the point you are now.
I've realised that it's the only option actually. I see, experience and understand only a tiny part (1 Corinthians 10:9), and what I can now won’t be what I will tomorrow. I’m certain of that, because I can look back to see how far I’ve repented and changed.
Monday, 27 February 2012
No 9: For the Forgiveness of Our Sins
I often find it helps me to look for a different word in place of a very well-known one, because when I examine my thought processes, I see a tendency when a subject becomes familiar to stop thinking about it! Using a variety of Bible translations can help refresh our thinking, or commentaries which delve into the wider meaning of an original word. It is a most precious skill of a teacher to help us see things with 'new eyes'.
Yesterday, visiting another fellowship to see a friend baptised, I fell into conversation with someone. When I described some of the things my daughter had been doing on the Toronto School of Ministry, and my youngest son on his Holy Spirit adventuring in Estonia, her face clouded, and I was listening to a lady who was racked with fears and anxieties over being deceived. At every turn, she asked me: "But is that in the Bible?" Afterwards, I thought again how we use the word 'saved'. What was so clear to me was that she did not feel safe. Surely, feeling safe is the obvious result of being saved? This is what I mean by trying out a diffferent word. Maybe instead of enquiring of each other whether we are saved, we could ask: 'Are you safe?'
The one I tried this morning was to say 'forgivingness' instead of forgiveness. As I shared previously, I now appreciate far better the life-long process of repentance, conversion and forgiveness, and I also appreciate the witness of scripture to all these long before the coming of Christ. I've never been a great one for theories. I like St James, who exposes people who rely on some kind of abstract 'faith' when there are no signs of it changing them (James 2:14-24). We make 'mustard seed' beginnings, which may even be invisible to our conscious minds (Mark 4:27). But now, I know I am repenting because my mind and intentions are changing; I know I am being converted because God is increasing revelation of His thoughts and feelings; and I know I am being forgiven because I am being led into greater freedom and safety. I don't look back to some moment when I believe I 'got saved'. It's what happens along the Way which counts. "Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans" (John Lennon).
This morning, I'm giving myself a rest from atonement theory. My readers will know that I see things quite differently from Piper. God's forgiveness is enough. Of course, our sinful actions carry consequences here on this earth: David and Bathsheba were forgiven but their first child still died. Legal systems manage our social transgressions. But God is not so small and limited that His glory can be injured or His honour offended. Listen to how St Paul describes what God is really like:
"God is patient, God is kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud. He is not rude, He is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. He always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres" (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).
Yesterday, visiting another fellowship to see a friend baptised, I fell into conversation with someone. When I described some of the things my daughter had been doing on the Toronto School of Ministry, and my youngest son on his Holy Spirit adventuring in Estonia, her face clouded, and I was listening to a lady who was racked with fears and anxieties over being deceived. At every turn, she asked me: "But is that in the Bible?" Afterwards, I thought again how we use the word 'saved'. What was so clear to me was that she did not feel safe. Surely, feeling safe is the obvious result of being saved? This is what I mean by trying out a diffferent word. Maybe instead of enquiring of each other whether we are saved, we could ask: 'Are you safe?'
The one I tried this morning was to say 'forgivingness' instead of forgiveness. As I shared previously, I now appreciate far better the life-long process of repentance, conversion and forgiveness, and I also appreciate the witness of scripture to all these long before the coming of Christ. I've never been a great one for theories. I like St James, who exposes people who rely on some kind of abstract 'faith' when there are no signs of it changing them (James 2:14-24). We make 'mustard seed' beginnings, which may even be invisible to our conscious minds (Mark 4:27). But now, I know I am repenting because my mind and intentions are changing; I know I am being converted because God is increasing revelation of His thoughts and feelings; and I know I am being forgiven because I am being led into greater freedom and safety. I don't look back to some moment when I believe I 'got saved'. It's what happens along the Way which counts. "Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans" (John Lennon).
This morning, I'm giving myself a rest from atonement theory. My readers will know that I see things quite differently from Piper. God's forgiveness is enough. Of course, our sinful actions carry consequences here on this earth: David and Bathsheba were forgiven but their first child still died. Legal systems manage our social transgressions. But God is not so small and limited that His glory can be injured or His honour offended. Listen to how St Paul describes what God is really like:
"God is patient, God is kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud. He is not rude, He is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. He always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres" (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).
Sunday, 26 February 2012
No 8: To Become a Ransom for Many
Let's think for a bit about ransom. It's a very accessible picture for all of us, for we can immediately think of stories from past and present where a ransom is paid. Someone is captured by his enemy, who demands a ransom from his friends to release him. Every effort will certainly be made by his friends to rescue him without paying the ransom, and sometimes they do outwit or overpower the enemy and get him back without payment. The size of the ransom depends - a 'king's ransom' has come to mean some stupendous sum, because the king is the most important person in the realm.
All Piper's arguments fall in the face of this simple truth: ransoms are always paid to an enemy. I am baffled how famous, subtle thinkers can miss something so well known.
The most distressing aspect of Piper's atonement theology is that it turns our loving Father God into our enemy - God forbid! This cannot of course ever be spoken about, for it goes against everything we need to believe about Him. So it is pushed deep down into our hearts, beyond the reach of our conscious minds. But like all repressed attitudes, though, it affects us - we do not experience intimacy with our Father, and then to feel OK about that we prefer images of Him in His majesty, power and sovereignty. The character of the Father seems different in our minds and hearts from that of Jesus, and we feel more comfortable praying to Jesus who gives us the compassion and intimacy we crave.
No, our enemy is Satan. Search the scriptures, and you will never find God described as our enemy. What happens is that we turn ourselves into His enemies (James 4:4, Romans 11:28), because we side with Satan. In Christ, God intervenes to rescue us, paying Satan more than a king's ransom - for you and me, just one among millions. But on the third day, that ransom melted like water through Satan's fingers: Christ was raised back to life! In the end, Satan got nothing. He was absolutely defeated.
I recommend reading again the final chapters of C S Lewis' 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. It is a wonderful retelling of Christ's Passion: the price of his own life which Aslan paid the Witch for Edmund, and her very short-lived triumph.
All Piper's arguments fall in the face of this simple truth: ransoms are always paid to an enemy. I am baffled how famous, subtle thinkers can miss something so well known.
The most distressing aspect of Piper's atonement theology is that it turns our loving Father God into our enemy - God forbid! This cannot of course ever be spoken about, for it goes against everything we need to believe about Him. So it is pushed deep down into our hearts, beyond the reach of our conscious minds. But like all repressed attitudes, though, it affects us - we do not experience intimacy with our Father, and then to feel OK about that we prefer images of Him in His majesty, power and sovereignty. The character of the Father seems different in our minds and hearts from that of Jesus, and we feel more comfortable praying to Jesus who gives us the compassion and intimacy we crave.
No, our enemy is Satan. Search the scriptures, and you will never find God described as our enemy. What happens is that we turn ourselves into His enemies (James 4:4, Romans 11:28), because we side with Satan. In Christ, God intervenes to rescue us, paying Satan more than a king's ransom - for you and me, just one among millions. But on the third day, that ransom melted like water through Satan's fingers: Christ was raised back to life! In the end, Satan got nothing. He was absolutely defeated.
I recommend reading again the final chapters of C S Lewis' 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. It is a wonderful retelling of Christ's Passion: the price of his own life which Aslan paid the Witch for Edmund, and her very short-lived triumph.
Saturday, 25 February 2012
No 7: To Cancel the Legal Demands of the Law against Us
This morning's reflections are about two trees and two sons.
The start of the start of the Bible - edited into eighty verses and three chapters by unknown lovers of God - is revelation which is so wondrous that it continues to reshape my personal spiritual landscape, and I expect it will go on doing so until I die. Perhaps that's because it carries the same young, wild, fecundity with which God created all things - so brilliantly imagined in C S Lewis' book 'The Magician's Nephew'.
The whole system which St Paul refers to in the verse quoted by Piper - debts and credits, good and bad deeds, and the laws we make to manage them - had its origin in our first parents' decision to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, in preference to the the tree of life; and, to compound things, to decide disobediently. They had no real clue about the consequences, but this much they knew: it was not what God wanted for them. (I wonder what it previously felt like for them both as they ate from the tree of life? I'm doing so now, but in a fallen world. Oh Holy Spirit, take me back in the Spirit to those times in Eden!) Nevertheless, into their hearts crept a seed of distrust, and they thought they knew better than God and they could get something to their advantage. The result must have been a terrible shock: "They realised that they were naked" (Genesis 3:7). Mankind has been traumatised ever since, as St Paul saw: "Many died by the trespass of one man" (Romans 5:15).
I don't doubt that God intended that the first family would eventually eat from both trees, when they were ready to do so. He withholds no good thing; all He created is good, including the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But at that point, Adam and Eve were not ready. Stripped of their trustful and loving relationship with God, they were indeed naked. They began to need clothes - laws - instead.
In Jesus' story about the two sons (Luke 15:11-32), we see two very different young men who are each in their own way trapped in this "law of sin and death" - the prodigal one as much as his brother. The former suffers some tough lessons in the university of life and realises how futile his life has become - great. But what are his thoughts? "I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men" (Luke 15:19). He can only see himself in terms of his good or evil deeds: that's his value and identity in his eyes, and he has decided the matter for himself. The other son is of course just the same.
We all know that in the story, the father is our Father. He simply doesn't care about all those good-and-bad calculations; he cuts his son's pious spiel short. There seems nothing even to forgive - he is all only compassion and love. He makes no demands of either son, legal or otherwise. Now remember when this story was told: this is what God has always been like. He didn't become like that after Jesus died.
So how has Jesus changed things? Thinking about the story again: the extravagant party may have convinced the younger son of his Dad's love and forgiveness - but would it have altered his feeling of unworthiness? And would the father's patient words to his other son have soothed his sense of grievance? I don't think so. The difficulty lay not in God's readiness to be reconciled, but in their inability.
It is we who clutch at the comfort of rules about worthiness, and it is we who cannot tear our hearts from the law of sin's deceptive embrace; for very deep down, we are not sure we would be safe with God if we lived nakedly without it. The only thing which will heal my trauma is to see God Himself come and take my place and be judged by the same rules - and come through triumphant. Mysteriously, that works. Now I am sure, and safe.
The start of the start of the Bible - edited into eighty verses and three chapters by unknown lovers of God - is revelation which is so wondrous that it continues to reshape my personal spiritual landscape, and I expect it will go on doing so until I die. Perhaps that's because it carries the same young, wild, fecundity with which God created all things - so brilliantly imagined in C S Lewis' book 'The Magician's Nephew'.
The whole system which St Paul refers to in the verse quoted by Piper - debts and credits, good and bad deeds, and the laws we make to manage them - had its origin in our first parents' decision to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, in preference to the the tree of life; and, to compound things, to decide disobediently. They had no real clue about the consequences, but this much they knew: it was not what God wanted for them. (I wonder what it previously felt like for them both as they ate from the tree of life? I'm doing so now, but in a fallen world. Oh Holy Spirit, take me back in the Spirit to those times in Eden!) Nevertheless, into their hearts crept a seed of distrust, and they thought they knew better than God and they could get something to their advantage. The result must have been a terrible shock: "They realised that they were naked" (Genesis 3:7). Mankind has been traumatised ever since, as St Paul saw: "Many died by the trespass of one man" (Romans 5:15).
I don't doubt that God intended that the first family would eventually eat from both trees, when they were ready to do so. He withholds no good thing; all He created is good, including the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But at that point, Adam and Eve were not ready. Stripped of their trustful and loving relationship with God, they were indeed naked. They began to need clothes - laws - instead.
In Jesus' story about the two sons (Luke 15:11-32), we see two very different young men who are each in their own way trapped in this "law of sin and death" - the prodigal one as much as his brother. The former suffers some tough lessons in the university of life and realises how futile his life has become - great. But what are his thoughts? "I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men" (Luke 15:19). He can only see himself in terms of his good or evil deeds: that's his value and identity in his eyes, and he has decided the matter for himself. The other son is of course just the same.
We all know that in the story, the father is our Father. He simply doesn't care about all those good-and-bad calculations; he cuts his son's pious spiel short. There seems nothing even to forgive - he is all only compassion and love. He makes no demands of either son, legal or otherwise. Now remember when this story was told: this is what God has always been like. He didn't become like that after Jesus died.
So how has Jesus changed things? Thinking about the story again: the extravagant party may have convinced the younger son of his Dad's love and forgiveness - but would it have altered his feeling of unworthiness? And would the father's patient words to his other son have soothed his sense of grievance? I don't think so. The difficulty lay not in God's readiness to be reconciled, but in their inability.
It is we who clutch at the comfort of rules about worthiness, and it is we who cannot tear our hearts from the law of sin's deceptive embrace; for very deep down, we are not sure we would be safe with God if we lived nakedly without it. The only thing which will heal my trauma is to see God Himself come and take my place and be judged by the same rules - and come through triumphant. Mysteriously, that works. Now I am sure, and safe.
Friday, 24 February 2012
No 6: To Show His Own Love for Us
What a lovely chapter to wake up to - thank you John. What has it stirred in my heart?
I see again the invincible ability of God to reach all human beings with His love; but I feel again shock at watching God laying aside His reputation and His Kingly position to do whatever He must to reach us, each individual one of us. All my conventional notions of God are turned upside down.
Personally, this has to keep happening for me all the time - repenting is continuous, as my mind is renewed (Romans 12:2) and my heart is healed (Ezekiel 36:26). I didn't start off as a Christian with a massive change of heart. I didn't run to Jesus, burdened with a deep sense of sin. But I was powerfully attracted by Who He is, and by what some brothers were like, who followed Him. So for me, it has always seemed a natural idea that real conversion happens as a life process, and that the very essence of spiritual growth is change.
But: if you let God keep changing you, you may face criticism from the defenders of church traditions. That needn't surprise or offend us, because it happened first to Jesus - it almost seems the mark of a true prophet and servant of God. Piper quotes St Paul : "Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her" (Ephesians 5:25); and St John: "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). Christ was not just doing this for Christians who would later believe in Him; He was doing it for the church then, crowding into Jerusalem for the Passover, and about to turn on Him viciously. Because they were all His own (John 1:11).
I see again the invincible ability of God to reach all human beings with His love; but I feel again shock at watching God laying aside His reputation and His Kingly position to do whatever He must to reach us, each individual one of us. All my conventional notions of God are turned upside down.
Personally, this has to keep happening for me all the time - repenting is continuous, as my mind is renewed (Romans 12:2) and my heart is healed (Ezekiel 36:26). I didn't start off as a Christian with a massive change of heart. I didn't run to Jesus, burdened with a deep sense of sin. But I was powerfully attracted by Who He is, and by what some brothers were like, who followed Him. So for me, it has always seemed a natural idea that real conversion happens as a life process, and that the very essence of spiritual growth is change.
But: if you let God keep changing you, you may face criticism from the defenders of church traditions. That needn't surprise or offend us, because it happened first to Jesus - it almost seems the mark of a true prophet and servant of God. Piper quotes St Paul : "Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her" (Ephesians 5:25); and St John: "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). Christ was not just doing this for Christians who would later believe in Him; He was doing it for the church then, crowding into Jerusalem for the Passover, and about to turn on Him viciously. Because they were all His own (John 1:11).
Thursday, 23 February 2012
No 5: To Show the Wealth of God's Love and Grace to Sinners
All my Christian life I have centred myself around this revelation given to my namesake, John the Baptist: "Behold, the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sin of the world" (John 1:29). Whatever we think sin is, or what our sins amount to, the consistent assurance throughout the Bible is that God forgives us for them. He hasn't changed His mind on that matter: whatever the Cross means, it doesn't mark a change in attitude or intention on God's part. One of the most memorable of Jesus' word pictures is the one of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:10-14). Here, I just want to point out that the tax collector receives forgiveness - more, justification - with none of the conditions we assume to be necessary, like being a Christian and knowing that Jesus died for my sin.
"You are a sinner, but that is not your true identity". (Wondering how to go from here, God has just spoken this word to me! I'll never tire of the joy of His conversation.) I can see what He is getting at, saying this. It is explaining to me why the way Piper puts things in this chapter leaves an unease in my heart. Because the most recurring subject God patiently teaches me, again and again, is my value and preciousness to Him, the good plans He has for me, His delight in being my Creator, and His intention to share all the riches of heaven and earth with me. It's not that my sins don't matter. The closest words I can find to express His attitude have just come to mind: "Come now, let's talk about this together. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ..." (Isaiah 1:18).
God knows our frailties. Especially He knows that our brokeness is beyond something personal - we were born broken. This is why He blesses the just and the unjust, and He gives wisdom without finding fault. This is why He heals the world of sin and I find myself ceasing to judge whether I am worthy or not. I discover I have always been His workmanship, barely aware of how highly He values me.
"You are a sinner, but that is not your true identity". (Wondering how to go from here, God has just spoken this word to me! I'll never tire of the joy of His conversation.) I can see what He is getting at, saying this. It is explaining to me why the way Piper puts things in this chapter leaves an unease in my heart. Because the most recurring subject God patiently teaches me, again and again, is my value and preciousness to Him, the good plans He has for me, His delight in being my Creator, and His intention to share all the riches of heaven and earth with me. It's not that my sins don't matter. The closest words I can find to express His attitude have just come to mind: "Come now, let's talk about this together. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ..." (Isaiah 1:18).
God knows our frailties. Especially He knows that our brokeness is beyond something personal - we were born broken. This is why He blesses the just and the unjust, and He gives wisdom without finding fault. This is why He heals the world of sin and I find myself ceasing to judge whether I am worthy or not. I discover I have always been His workmanship, barely aware of how highly He values me.
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