I know its easy to skip genealogies when reading to Bible. Loads of detail with little yield. Thought this might not be immediately apparent, the genealogies in the Gospels are rich with theological significance. Names such as Judah, Ruth, David, Uzziah, Hezekiah and Josiah that occur in the genealogy would surely have evoked many stories in the minds of readers and hearers in the first century, but none so much as the two names which head off the genealogy: Abraham and David. Altogether, Jesus is placed in the center of, so to speak; or perhaps more properly, at the end, of Israel’s history of covenant and blessing, deliverance and freedom, promise and expectation. Jesus is thus the heir of this lineage, the one who continues the story, sums it all up in himself and becomes the locus in which it reaches consummation. [Craig S. Keener, Matthew, 73-77].

However, under the surface, I suspect there is even more going on than identifying Jesus with Israel’s long history of patriarchs and kings. Perhaps Matthew is reaching back even further. The opening words of the Gospel, if I write out how the Greek letters sound for one of the words instead of translating it, are “The book of Genesis of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” (Βίβλος γενέσεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ). In verse 18 he says again, “The genesis (γένεσις) of Jesus the Messiah…” It is pretty easy to pick up on John’s opening allusion to Genesis in the first words of his gospel, “In the beginning was the word…” Likewise, Luke’s genealogy goes all the way back to “Adam, the son of God.” Is it possible that Matthew intends for his hearers to perceive that he, along with John (and possibly Luke), is writing a “new book of Genesis” so to speak? Is he writing a story about God’s purpose to right the wrongs in the creation and be faithful to the promises he made to the patriarchs? Is the occurrence of this word yet another reminder that we are to interpret the life of Jesus within the larger drama of Israel and God’s plan to restore the blessing of Genesis 1 to planet earth? Did he understand the first coming of Jesus as the inauguration of the New Creation of all things? Of course, we could never prove such in this particular instance, but it is at least my strong suspicion…

Related posts

• Reading the Bible in the Right Direction (Part 4) – The Overarching Story of Scripture (14)
• Confronting the Sin of Despair – Hope as a Theology of Resistance (3)
• New Exodus – Part 2 – The Historical Revelation of God (1)
• Why Greek Matters (Part 6) – Christ in Ya’ll, the Hope of Glory (1)
• Why Greek Matters (Part 2) – New Creation (2 Corinthians 5:17) (2)

The problem with sin is not “because God said so.” Sin is a cancerous force which seeks to destroy all that is good, true and beautiful, leaving the wreckage of alienation and death in the wake of its violence.

In his Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God, Jonathan Edwards describes one of the signs of a true work of the Holy Spirit in that it causes people to hate sin. So I decided to set my hand to writing some prayers related to the subject. The starting point for my reflections was Genesis 1, the account of God’s original creation. Here human beings are given their initial and original commission to “rule the earth,” (Gen. 1:28) in other words, to be the agents of God’s gracious and life-giving presence on earth. Further, in chapter 2 (verse 15), the human beings are called to “cultivate and keep (i.e. guard, protect)” the Garden of Eden. Here their task is to foster the life that God intended for his creation, to preserve its integrity, and guard it from all harm.

For me, this is the starting place when thinking about sin. I will occasionally run into people who only think sin is wrong because “God said so,” as if God started from absolutely nothing and arbitrarily came up with a list of “good things” and “bad things” to subject us to. Then sin mostly becomes about abstract accounting systems in heaven – how well I have done at doing the good list and keeping away from the bad list and the respective tally that God is keeping. This obsession with “accounting in heaven” is a haunting specter over some places in American evangelical Christianity. The result is people who are much more concerned over their “status” as a “good girl” or “bad boy” than whether their actions lovingly cause life to flourish or instead cause damage and destruction to people.

It further degenerates to a delusional belief that once you ask God to forgive you for your sin, all things are “just-as-if-you-never-sinned.” This near-heresy is essentially a fundamental denial that our actions have real consequences and that there is even something wrong with sin. It is indeed gloriously true that God can and will forgive us when we ask and seek to amend our lives. But the reason we need forgiveness in the first place is because our actions have consequences – what we do really matters. Sin is not wrong because God said so – it is against nature and inherently destructive. Every sin grates against the purposes of love, life, joy and freedom for which God brought forth his creation. Every sin causes hurt and havoc in the lives of real people on planet earth, which does not magically vanish with an apology. When we sin, we cease to be the agents of God’s life-giving presence and rule on earth and rather operate in collusion with counter-forces which produce death, violence, hatred and alienation. God takes this personally, not primarily because we don’t “do what he says,” but because in his immeasurably vast love for us, he is personally affected when we are hurt by others’ sin, when his desire for love, joy and freedom in life are undermined. He is full of compassion and feels the pain of those who are injured (cf. Ps. 34:18; 145:8-9; Isa. 63:9). It is from this depth of love that God is virulent and assiduous in his opposition to Sin and Evil.

It has become my conviction that I need a more powerful motivation for life than my status as a “good boy” and abstract accounting systems in heaven. God has called us as humans to be the representatives of his gracious rule on earth. He has called us to love the life he created and so foster its growth and protect its integrity. He invites us to understand sin as it really is – not simply something on a “bad list,” but the antithesis and nemesis of everything good, true and beautiful, a cancerous presence which progressively produces increasing death. As our hearts are filled with the love God has for his creation, as we participate in his compassionate longing for the full flowering of life on earth, as we rise into our role as those bearing God’s image and his gracious life-giving rulership, our actions take on new weight and our decisions come into new light. Hating sin is not about being a “good boy or girl.” It is about treasuring the life God has created and loves.

Majestic Lord, you possess within yourself the pinnacle of goodness, truth and beauty, and grant all creatures to share in that same splendor: Enthrall us with this radiance and fill your church with a tenacious distaste for all sin, that as you restore the lost splendor of your creation, by the gracious nurture of your Holy Spirit, we would with great determination disavow every thought, word and deed seeking to perpetuate the bondage of Death and the tyranny of Night, whose sway is already fading in the dawn of your resurrection life, through Jesus the Messiah, your Son our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

O God: the heavens of heavens are yours, but the earth you have given to humanity: grant to your Church an inexhaustible love of life, that hating all which compromises the integrity of your creation and fails to foster that society of love for which you called us into being, we would walk before you in holiness and righteousness all our days, treasuring the good, true and beautiful, stewarding your creation as faithful agents of your royal power, through Jesus the Messiah, Your Son our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit in glory everlasting.

Lord God, whose heart overflows with the purest delight: help us see and understand the insidious nature of sin, which in the end only steals, kills and destroys, that, hating all which destroys life, and loving that which restores, we might find holiness to be the very fountain of joy, welling up to eternal life, through Jesus the Messiah your Son, our Lord…

Related posts

• Reading the Bible in the Right Direction (Part 4) – The Overarching Story of Scripture (14)
• Prayers for Revival – The Spirit of Prayer (0)
• Prayers for Revival – the Fire of Love and Holiness (1)
• Why Greek Matters (Part 5) – Closing our bowels (1 John 3:17) (0)
• The Relationship of Christianity to Other Religions (4)

If you were to summarize the overarching story-line of the Bible, what would you say? What if you had to do it in only one sentence? I will attempt to do exactly this in only seven words and I have a hunch my conclusion will be somewhat surprising to many.

But before I divulge my answer, I should note that this post is part 4 in a larger series concerning what I am calling “Reading the Bible in the Right Direction.” By this I am referring to the narrative order given in the Bible, most basically, Old Testament first, New Testament second. The ideas, stories, concepts, and expectations formulated in the Old Testament must be the primary base from which we interpret and understand the New Testament, rather than vice versa. More can be read on this in the previous posts, but now I am concentrating on concisely explaining the overarching storyline of Scripture. Understanding and interpreting the New Testament in light of this narratival framework causes the Scripture to first of all, make much more coherent sense, and second, to come alive in its intended dynamic vigor. This approach is critical because the early apostolic community, the original hearers of the New Testament, indeed, the people who wrote the New Testament, would have approached and understood the Bible in this way. They would have come to the New Testament writings living within the story of Israel, deeply entrenched in its expectations, animated with its hopes yet vexed with longing for this yet unfinished drama to come to its appointed consummation.

I will first give my seven word summary of the Bible’s story and then explain it. Here it is: God sends humanity to rule the earth. Surprising, eh? Yet if we read the Bible’s opening and closing remarks, we see that this is the original intent for God’s creation, and this intent comes to pass. Everything else that happens in the Bible is a subplot to seeing this overarching plot line find fulfillment.

When approaching a story and attempting to summarize its plot, a simple system has been developed to diagram the plot by identifying the six main components of the story:

1)    The Sender, who commissions an

2)    Agent, who is sent by the sender to accomplish a

3)    Task, for the benefit of the

4)    Receiver

5)    An Impediment attempts to block the accomplishment of the task and only through the aid of the

6)    Helper, is the agent able to accomplish the task.

This can be illustrated with a diagram, using the story of Little Red Riding Hood as an example.

Now what happens if we apply this type of plot analysis to the Bible? We would have to start at the very beginning – in Genesis 1. In verses 26-28, we are told that the original commission of humanity is to rule over the earth. This of course does not mean that they should function as exploitative tyrants. In Genesis 2:15 humans are told to cultivate, expand and grow the Garden of Eden. Rather than tyrannical domination, these verses mean the original purpose of human beings was to be the co-regents of God’s gracious, loving and life-giving rule, expanding both the Garden of Eden and their habitation (through having children and a family) to fill the earth with the glory of God. We often think of both the original creation and the Garden of Eden as being perfect and then subsequently getting spoiled. The texts more so tell us about something that, though perhaps not having particular flaws, was an unfinished project. The earth needed to be subdued. The garden needed to be cultivated. The ground needed to be worked. The earth needed to be inhabited. In other words, human culture, in all areas, needed to be developed and matured as part of God’s unfolding purpose for the earth.  The task of humans was then, in cooperation with God, to work on this creation project and ultimately bring it to completion (i.e., “fill the earth”).

Under our schema from above this would make the main components of our plot:

Sender – God

Agent – Humanity

Task – rule

Receiver – the earth

Hence my summary, “God sends humanity to rule the earth.” Now, it doesn’t take long to realize that this plot gets at least somewhat derailed rather quickly. However, we know this plan does not come to an end, not in Genesis 3, and not anywhere else in history. We can be assured of this because the final narrative sequence in the Bible, in Revelation 22, immediately before the concluding epilogue, says of redeemed humanity on the renewed earth, “and there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever” (Rev. 22:5). The original plot succeeds! Humanity is sent to rule the earth, and apparently, whatever happened between Genesis 4 and Revelation 21 succeeded in restoring this original storyline and bringing it to fulfillment (although perhaps, it is arguable that Revelation 22 still does not yet show a complete “fulfillment” but that humanity’s gracious rulership of the earth will continue into the ages to come).

So far we’ve only named four of the main six components of our plot. The impediment is readily identifiable. Genesis 3-11 documents the downward spiral of humanity, not in the gracious expansion of God’s life giving presence, but in the exploitative, pernicious and cancerous expansion of violence, sin, hatred, alienation and death. In a word the impediment, is sin. But note in our storyline what sin is the impediment to. It is not the impediment to getting into heaven, but rather it is what blocks, even destroys the development and expansion of a communal cultural life on earth infused with God’s goodness, truth and beauty.

So who is the helper? Enter Abraham in Genesis 12. It seems easy to completely disconnect Genesis 12 from Genesis 3-11, as if perhaps it was just the next event in history. But Genesis 12 is a dramatic turning point in the book, both in terms of its content and the overall biblical plot. Genesis 1-11 covers a very long period of time and many generations in rapid succession. Genesis 12-25 covers the life span of one person. We also notice the issues that arise in Genesis 12 parallel those in Genesis 1. Abraham is unable to have children yet God promises he will be the father of many nations, akin to the original command to be fruitful and multiply. Abraham is told he will be a blessing to all the peoples of the earth. This parallels the blessing humanity received in Genesis 1, and the curse that came upon the earth in Genesis 3. Abraham’s promise concerns “the land.”  Interestingly enough, this is the same Hebrew word as “earth,” thus forming at least a intriguing linguistic connection. All in all, Abraham (and thus his progeny, the nation of Israel) are God’s response to Genesis 3-11. God’s plan to reestablish the original plot and purpose for humanity is to be executed through God’s covenant people. God’s answer to the problem of sin is the covenant.

It also doesn’t take long to realize that this new plot line (Plot Level 2) was riddled with difficulty, whether it be family dysfunction, political conflicts, military engagement, or agricultural disaster, only to find the family of Abraham, God’s agents of reconciliation and restoration, to be held captive as slaves in the nation of Egypt. Enter “Plot Level 3″ – God sends a helper to bring deliverance to his people, in this case Moses. But as the story of the Old Testament progresses, the people of Israel get into one mess after another, usually related to wide-scale national sin. The people who God raised up to be his answer to the problem of sin, themselves became part of the problem. So God sends helper after helper, whether they be judges, prophets, kings (the epitome of which was David), to preach repentance to God’s people and to bring them deliverance from their enemies. The function of this “Plot Level 3″ however, was always to restore “Plot Level 2″ – Israel being a “light to the nations” and bringing “blessing to all peoples of the earth.” The purpose of this “Plot Level 2″ was always to restore “Plot Level 1″ – God sends humanity to rule the earth.

The final helper in this sequence (Plot Level 3) was none other than Jesus himself. This can be seen in Jesus’ resoluteness that he came only to help the “lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 10:6; 15:24), as well as the emphasis that Jesus had come to save Israel (Matt. 1:21; Luke 1:68; 2:25). Through the death and resurrection of Jesus, “Plot Level 2″ has been restored because Jesus then sends out his company of 12 Jewish young men with a task to “make disciples of all the Gentiles/nations” (Matt. 28:19). Interestingly enough, in Acts 1, the apostles ask Jesus, “Lord,  is it at this time You are restoring the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus answers in his usually interesting fashion, here by giving neither a clear yes or no answer and then continues, “but you will receive power  when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and  Samaria, and even to  the remotest part of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Many people assume that Jesus’ answer is “no,” as in “you are stuck on thinking about politics, but I am going to have you go around and preach a new spiritual, inward reality.” It seems rather, if we compare the second half of his answer with our plot diagram, if twelve representatives of Israel are being sent out to “disciple the Gentiles” through preaching to “the remotest parts of the earth,” then the answer to their question is more like “yes, but not in the way you are thinking.”

So then, Jesus, through his death and resurrection, restores Plot Level 2. The ultimate goal of redemptive history however, is the recovery of Plot Level 1 – and human beings restored to gracious rulership over the earth. Rather than develop this here, in what is already a too-long blog-post, I will quote four passages that demonstrate this cosmic aspect of redemption’s goal. These passages are often enigmatic when the Bible is read in context to overarching stories that are in fact foreign to the Bible (i.e., the stories of Western affluence, escapism, rationalism, secular hedonism, etc.). However, when read starting with the narrative framework of the Old Testament as the foundation, these passages make perfect sense:

Acts 3:19-21 – Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out,  so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus,  who must remain in heaven until the time of the restoration of all things that God announced long ago through his holy prophets.

Ephesians 1:9-10 – he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ,  as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

Colossians 1:19-20 – For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,  and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Romans 8:19‐23 – For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God;  for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.  We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now;  and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.

Links to earlier parts in the series Reading the Bible in the Right Direction: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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• New Exodus – Part 2 – The Historical Revelation of God (1)
• New Exodus – Part 1 – The Divine Name (3)
• Why Greek Matters (Part 7) – The Genesis of Jesus the Messiah (Genealogies Really Matter!) (0)
• Theology of Creation in Isaiah Part 3 – Isaiah 40.21-24 (0)

This is a continuation in a series on Acts chapter 2 and the account of the Day of Pentecost. Pentecost was an epochal event. The way it is described in the Acts of the Apostles indicates that more is going on than a lively outreach — there has been a dramatic intervention of the covenant-creator-God to deal with the problem of sin, overturn the effects of the fall and inaugurate the eschatological age of righteousness, peace and joy. The technical term for this is inaugurated eschatology, in that while a future consummation awaits us in the new heavens and new earth, the life, power and reality of the age to come has already become present in partial form (already but not-yet). In a mysterious manner, the future and the present have intersected and overlapped so that God’s future for the world has rushed into the present time, filling it with the joy of promise fulfilled and the hope of untold possibilities that yet remain.

This becomes especially clear when the passage is understood in light of the larger narrative of Scripture and the numerous passages that are alluded to or quoted. Today I want to look at one passage in particular: Genesis 11. This chapter records the infamous ”Tower of Babel” incident. It is critical to see where this story occurs in the unfolding narrative of the book of Genesis and the Old Testament as a whole. Genesis 1 and 2 record the creation of the world and all its life. Human beings are given the blessing and command to be fruitful, multiply and fill the earth. They are commissioned to be God’s vice-regents on earth, administrating and increasing his gracious rule through their ever expanding family. You’ll have to believe me on this one, since I don’t have the time to develop it, but Genesis 2 is intentionally evoking the imagery of the temple and it is intended for us to understand the Garden of Eden as a temple, a sanctuary, the dwelling place of God’s glory. Therefore Adam and Eve’s tasks of cultivating (i.e., expanding) the garden and forging a family that will fill the earth can be understood as the call to fill the earth with the dwelling of God’s glory through their world-wide family. Note the dynamic interplay here between the God-blessed relationship (marriage/family) and the God-commissioned rulership.

As grand as this seems, the plan gets muddled rather quickly, with Adam’s sin in Genesis 3, Cain’s murder of Abel in Genesis 4, and the growth of violence as documented in the Noah account. Nevertheless, despite “The Fall,” the original commission remains and Noah and his descendants are called to “be fruitful and multiply, abound on the earth and multiply in it.”

This brings us to Genesis 11. Here I would like to propose an alternate (yet complementary) explanation of why God took such issue with Babel. Of course it is clear that they were attempting to build their “tower” to make a name for themselves. This undoubtedly included some aspect of pride. However, I cannot imagine that God was threatened by a supposed “take-over” scheme and that he needed to stop it before it got out of hand. In fact, it is likely that the “tower” they were building was in fact a ziggurat and is a spoof on the temple of Marduk in Babylon, whose name “house with the uplifted head” suggests a claim that it reached to the heavens. (See commentaries on Genesis by Wenham and Sarna). Thus, they were not trying to take over the role as gods (something that would likely have been a ridiculous thought in the ancient world), but were building a shrine for God/god(s). Additionally, though attention often focuses on the “tower,” in the text it mentions that they were building a “city and a tower.” When God comes down, he comes to “see the city and the tower.” After their languages are confused the text says they “left off building the city,” with no mention of the tower. In the text, the tower is never conceived of by itself, apart from the city or even as a focal point.

This becomes further significant when the builders give the reason for their project – “otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” The central motivation was to consolidate the human race in one central city. Here we come to the main problem with the Babel building project – it is a direct violation of God’s primary command (which is actually a blessing) to the human race – “be fruitful, multiply and fill the earth.” They were never instructed not to build towers. They were never even instructed how to avoid pride. They were however, instructed to fill the earth with the world-wide family as the means for ruling the earth and filling it with God’s glory. The main sin of Babel was a refusal of the blessing of creation, fertility and vice-regency with God and thus the invention of measures to derail its fulfillment. God’s comments are not against the tower, but against the entire building project understood in this light. Thus God confused the languages of the people and scattered them across the earth. Though commonly thought of as anti-climactic, certainly much less severe than the flood, there are several reasons why this judgment is the definite low point thus far in the Bible.

“First, the Flood left no permanent mark on humanity; though the generation of the flood was destroyed, humankind was preserved, and continued to grow. The scattering of humanity, however, is of lasting effect. There are no survivors of Babel.

Second, what is destroyed at Babel is the community of humankind as a family; hitherto, as the genealogies have witnessed, humankind is one family, and the Flood has only accentuated that fact by making one family in the narrowest sense of the word co-terminous with humanity. But the punishment of Babel divides humankind irrevocably from one another (as did also the first sin in its own way). Now humanity is no longer one “people” or “kin-group,” but “nations.” (David Clines, The Theme of the Pentateuch, pp. 70).

It is critical to see what happens on Pentecost in light of what was previously said or we will miss the epochal nature of the event. We will not see that what follows is indeed God dealing with and overturning the problem of sin and its effects. The idea of the disintegration of humanity and the loss of a unified family is not often seen as a direct and central aspect of sin and the larger Fall (viewed as Genesis 3-11, not just Genesis 3). Indeed, alienation is a significant theme throughout Genesis 1-11 and is central to a truly biblical understanding of sin.

So what happened at Pentecost? What we see is the beginning to undo this dispersion of nations and languages. At Pentecost, the disciples of Jesus, being filled with the Holy Spirit, began to speak in other languages and people from many nations, gathered in Jerusalem, each heard them speaking in their own native language. What is going on? The advent of the Spirit is actually reversing the curse of Babel. Adam’s and Cain’s sins alienated humans one from another, while Babel divided the nations and destroyed the common family of humanity. The Spirit of God, however, brings diverse peoples together as one family and one “kin-group.” The Spirit forges the Church as a new humanity which is reunited as a downpayment and sign of God’s eschatological purposes to bring all peoples to unity before God (cf. Zeph. 3:9; Psa. 22:27; 86:9-10; Isa. 2; Jer. 16:19; Zech 2:11). That which was alienated is now reconciled. That which was contentious is now at peace. Those who were enemies are now family.

It is no coincidence that immediately following the outpouring of the Spirit, Luke describes the profound community life shared among the early believers, meeting together day by day, having all things in common, providing for all in need, devoting themselves to the apostles teaching, to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers (Acts 2:42ff.). The “they” in Acts 2:42 undoubtedly included many of the 3000 converts mentioned in verse 41. This means that this early apostolic community likely had “Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene…Cretans and Arabs” (v.9).  This theme of ethnic diversity and unity continues to be a major theme throughout the book of Acts (esp. once Gentiles get in the picture) and through much of the Pauline epistles. Over and over again, unity emerges as a central theme and pastoral concern of early Apostolic Christianity.

To conclude, I want to give a few thoughts on a potential “Praxis of Pentecost” (praxis simply refers to practice, as distinguished from theory). If one of the major things the Spirit was doing on Pentecost was uniting the people of God as a new humanity, a new “kinship-group,” what might that mean for those of us who endeavor to walk in that same Spirit? I would suggest that a major priority of the Spirit is the preservation and the advancement of unity in the Church. While this of course begins with individuals one to another, it expands to include entire congregations and communities, to all believers in a given geographical region and indeed, the unity of ecclesial bodies over the entire earth. Shortly before his death, Jesus’ priority in prayer was for the unity of those who would follow him – unity that would mirror the divine life of the Trinity and functioned as the sign par excellence to the world. To be people of the Spirit means to be those of whom unity is a central value and priority. Let us ask the Lord to root out tendencies toward enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy and things like these (Gal. 5:20-21) from our own hearts and to fill us with deep and profound love for those with whom we are in immediate spiritual relationship. Let’s not stop there though – let’s ask the Lord to fill us with a deep love for the whole church, to be open (indeed eager!) to receive from and be in relationship with individuals, groups and traditions that are different than our own. May the prayer of Jesus be our own – that the Church would be one – as He and the Father are one!

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• God is with us – When the Day of Pentecost Had Fully Come (Part 3) (0)
• When the Day of Pentecost had Fully Come… (Part 1) (0)
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Any discussion of how Christianity relates to other religions must first begin with a clear and concrete articulation of what Christianity is centrally about. Much discussion on religious pluralism assumes or posits a universal notion of what is “central” to religions (a norm to which Christianity conforms) or that the content of Christianity is flexible (that which does not conform to the “center” is shed). For example, Paul Knitter explains that, “Every religion, it would seem, seeks to place its followers in contact with a Reality, or to provide them with an exercise, whereby they can break the bonds of ego-clinging in order to embrace and be part of and so be transformed by that which is other.”[1] John Hick, similarly, would locate this soteriological locus “as an actual change in men and women from natural self-centredness to, in theistic terms, God-centredness, or in more general terms, a new orientation centered in the Ultimate, the Real.”[2] Hick also points to the universality of something akin to the “Golden Rule” amongst the major traditions as indicative of this shared soteriological emphasis.[3] Once this center has been determined, Hick believes it is possible (indeed, necessary) to postulate a Christianity without a trinity of unique persons, a de facto incarnation of God in the flesh, or a substitutionary atonement (of any kind).[4] Perhaps if one is seeking to arrive at a general theory of religion, such abstract and vague generalizing is a necessary starting place. However, to address the relationship of  Christianity to the other world religions, one must first begin with an adequate expression of what Christianity is, in its own right, before determining potential areas of coherence and/or incoherence with the other great traditions.

The Biblical text begins (Genesis 1-2) with an account of God creating the world (which is oddly enough, a polemic against the leading, and of course the non-leading, accounts of cosmology and theology in the surrounding cultural milieu). This confession of God as creator finds expression repeatedly throughout the Bible.[5] The fact that Yhwh was recognized as the sole creator of the cosmos, means that at least four other religious options cannot be true: (1) henotheism (confession of Yhwh as creator affirms God’s ontological, not merely practical, superiority over the so-called “gods” of the nations); (2) pantheism (confession of Yhwh as creator affirms that God is ontologically distinct from the creation, having an existence both separate and prior); (3) deism (confession of Yhwh as the creator-God was frequently the basis for Israel’s belief that God would intervene in history, not that God was untouchable beyond it); and (4) Gnosticism (the world is the good creation of the one true God, not the bad creation of a foolish lower demiurge).[6] Chapters 3-11 recount the devastating downward spiral the creation takes directly on account of human decisions and behavior. In the opening chapters of the Bible themes are established which are maintained and serve as foundational throughout the rest of the corpus of Scripture: (1) Yhwh is the one true God; (2) the world is affirmed as the good creation of the creator God; (3) the pristine (though not necessarily perfect) created order is corrupted by human sin; and (4) human action repeatedly and progressively destroys the created order. As for this final point, David Clines aptly summarizes Genesis 1-11 in saying, “Humankind tends to destroy what God has made good. Even when God forgives human sin and mitigates the punishment, sin continues to spread, to the point where the world suffers uncreation. And even when God makes a fresh start, turning his back on uncreation forever, humanity’s tendency to sin immediately becomes manifest.”[7]

In chapter twelve of Genesis, God makes a covenant with Abraham and his descendents. They are to be the people through whom the blessing originally granted in Genesis 1, deconstructed in chapters three through eleven, would be mediated to the entire earth. “Abraham emerges within the structure of Genesis as the answer to the plight of all humankind…Abraham and his progeny inherit the role of Adam and Eve…[they] are to be the means of undoing primeval sin and its consequences.”[8] They will be God’s agents in restoring the corrupted and decaying earth.

Thus the nation of Israel is born. Nearly immediately however, and such becomes a recurrent theme throughout the Old Testament, the covenant people themselves are in peril, either through unelected circumstances (the barrenness of the matriarchs, oppression in Egypt, captivity in Babylon, etc.), interpersonal strife, or national sin which elicits God’s judgment. However, the calling to be the mediator of God’s blessing to the earth and the means by which the problem of sin would be dealt with was not rescinded. Even in the midst of the Babylonian captivity, the Book of the Prophet Isaiah calls Israel, “my servant [who] will bring forth justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1), the “light to the nations” (Isa. 42:6), those by whom Yhwh’s “salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Isa. 49:6), and those who are appointed to “restore the earth” (49:8).

To the prophets, who stood in the theological, emotional, intellectual and pastoral chasm between the unabashed calling of Israel to be God’s means of dealing with the sin of the world and the ever-precarious status of that same covenant people, it became understood that Israel’s calling would only be fulfilled by a dramatic intervention of God in history. Indeed, it would be history’s climactic moment, in which God would “bare his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (Isa. 52:9). This redemptive, restorative justice-effecting salvation would be a decisive act of God, through his people within the world, yet very much so from beyond the world. Within the Old Testmanent itself (Isa. 25:6-8; Daniel 12) but increasingly so in the intertestimental period, this expectation became understood in terms of resurrection, the post-mortem revivification of bodily life.[9]

It was as these expectations for God’s justice to break in upon the world reached, in many quarters, a feverish pitch, that Jesus, the one hailed Messiah, entered the world scene, announcing the Reign of God. This kingdom was understood by his Jewish followers to be in direct continuity with kingdom expectations  flowing from the Jewish prophetic writings about God’s justice and salvation coming to earth.[10] Though this has been the subject of numerous entire monographs, the life, message, ministry and actions of Jesus were meant, by him, to be understood in continuity with these messianic expectations. Of particular note are his actions at the temple (Mt. 21:12ff; Mk 11:15ff.; Lk. 19:45ff.) where he announced that it would be torn down and he would rebuild it, therein declaring himself to be Israel’s (and the world’s) messiah and king; and the Last Supper (Mt. 26:20ff; Mark 14:12ff.; Lk. 22:7ff.), where he interprets his impending death through the lens of the Passover, in which God will work to effect a New Exodus of freedom and liberation in fulfillment of his covenant with Abraham.[11] Jesus’ announcement of the nearness of the Kingdom, in conjunction with these “prophetic parables” indicate his belief that the long awaited time when God would decisively act to deal with the problem of sin and restore the entire creation in God’s salvific justice was happening through him. This great restoration was in fact inaugurated when God raised Jesus bodily from the dead as the firstfruits of the resurrection of the entire creation (cf. 1 Cor. 15:20). After his resurrection, he affirms that “all authority in heaven and on earth” had been given to him as the world’s true Lord and that the apostles were to go, in the spirit of Psalm 96 and Isaiah 52, announcing to all nations that God was bringing salvation, righteousness and wholeness near, putting the world to rights, and was simultaneously demanding their allegiance to Jesus as Lord and their submission to his kingdom proclamations (teachings).

The other New Testament writings, of Paul in particular, continue to implement the message and work of Jesus, in continuity with the story of Israel’s history.[12] They herald both the dawning new day of God’s kingdom of salvific justice upon the world,[13] yet at the same time acknowledging the lingering realities of the “present evil age,” including evil (Rom. 8:35-36), sickness (Phil. 2:26-27), suffering (1 Cor. 12:26), death (Rom. 8:10), decay (Rom. 8:20-21), and demonic powers (Eph. 6:12). Though God had decisively acted in and through Jesus, and makes his people agents of restoration, the earth still awaits a future moment of final salvation which will be brought by God to the earth (Rom. 8:18ff; 1 Cor. 15:23ff; Phil 3:20-21; 1 Thess. 4:13ff; 2 Thess. 1:6-8; 2:7-8; Rev. 21-22). This salvation, both its present downpayment and future fulfillment, is the possession of those who participate in the death and resurrection of the Messiah (1 Cor. 6:15, 10:16; 12:27; 2 Cor. 5:17; Rom. 6:3-11; 8:1; 12:4-6; Gal. 2:19f; 5:24; 6:14; Phil 3:8f; Eph. 2:5; Col. 2:20; 3:1-4). Those who have given their allegiance to Jesus as Lord will participate in the full life of the Age to Come, while those who are not “in the Messiah” will perish (1 Cor. 1:18; 6:9ff; 2 Cor. 2:15; 4:3; Phil. 3:19). [14]

This articulation of Christian faith is, albeit, extremely abbreviated. What it hopefully makes clear is that Biblical Christianity, when expressed in concrete terms, cannot accept the soteriological proposals made by Hick and others. Of note is that the preceding articulation of Christianity did not even mention the common stumbling blocks of Trinity, Incarnation and Substitutionary Atonement, but focused on the Biblical framework in which a historically situated understanding of Christian salvation emerges. Christian salvation is not about a personalistic and moralistic attempt to move from “ego-centeredness” to “reality-centeredness.” Rather, Christianity affirms that existent reality is itself in need of salvation, both the constituent members and the greater whole. Although this salvation will certainly affect the internal orientation of individuals, its paramount feature is that it comes from God to the entire cosmos, for those who are of the faithfulness of Jesus (Rom. 3:26), those who have given believing allegiance to the world’s true Lord, Jesus (Rom. 1:5; 16:26). Christianity is thus incompatible with the major world religions, not because of certain distinctive doctrines, but because if its concepts of God, humanity, the earth and its salvation are true, then by nature, it does not allow for the truth claims of other religions in as much as they conflict with its own.

[2] John Hick, “The Theological Challenge of Religious Pluralism,” ibid, 164.

[3] ibid.

[4] John Hick, “The Non-Absoluteness of Christianity” in The Myth of Christian Uniqueness: Towards a Pluralistic Theology of Religions, ed. John Hick and Paul Knitter (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1987), 30-33.

[5] Genesis 1:1-28, 31; 2:1-25; 5:1, 2; 9:6; Exodus 20:11; 1 Samuel 2:8; 2 Kings 19:15; 1 Chronicles 16:26; Nehemiah 9:6; Job 9:8, 9; 10:3, 8; 12:7-9; 26:7-13; 28:23-26; 37:16, 18; 38:4-38; Psalm 8:3; 19:1, 4; 24:1, 2; 33:6, 7, 9; 65:6; 74:16, 17; 78:69; 89:11, 12, 47; 90:2; 95:4, 5; 96:5; 102:25; 103:22; 104:2, 3, 5, 6, 24, 30, 31; 119:90, 91; 121:2; 124:8; 136:5-9; 146:5, 6; 148:5, 6; Proverbs 3:19; 8:26-29; 16:4; 22:2; 26:10; 30:4; Ecclesiastes 3:11; 7:29; 11:5; Isaiah 17:7; 37:16; 40:12, 26, 28; 42:5; 44:24; 45:7, 12, 18; 48:13; 51:13, 16; 66:2; Jeremiah 5:22; 10:12, 13, 16; 27:5; 31:35; 32:17; 33:2; 51:15, 16, 19; Amos 4:13; 5:8; 9:6; Jonah 1:9; Zechariah 12:1; Mark 10:6; 13:19; Acts 4:24; 7:50; 14:15; 17:24-26; Romans 1:20; 11:36; 1 Corinthians 8:6; 11:12; 2 Corinthians 4:6; 5:5, 18; Ephesians 3:9; 1 Timothy 6:13; Hebrews 1:1, 2; 2:10; 3:4; 11:3; Revelation 4:11; 10:6; 14:7

[6] Nicholas Thomas Wright, New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 249.

[7] David J.A. Clines, The Theme of the Pentatuech (Sheffield: The University of Sheffield Press, 1978), 76.

[8] Nicholas Thomas Wright, New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 252, 262-3.

[9] Nicholas Thomas Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 146-206.

[10] Nicholas Thomas Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 202ff.

[11] Ibid, 406-428; 554-563.

[12] cf. Romans 1:2; 3:21; 16:26

[13] Acts 2:16-17; 26:16-18; Rom. 3:21; 14:17; 1 Cor. 4:19-20; 10:11; 2 Cor. 5:16-17; 6:1-2; Col. 1:12-14; 4:11; Heb. 1:1-2; 6:4-5; 9:25-26; 12:28; 1 Pet. 1:18-20; 1 John 2:7-8; Rev. 1:9.

[14] E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1977), 453ff., 473.

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Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the six-and-a-half week season of Lent. The part we all know about Ash Wednesday is that people get ashes smudged on their foreheads and walk around looking somewhat goofy for the rest of the day. The part that is less well known is what the whole ritual of the ashes means. Most simply, it is an approximation of the ancient practice of placing ashes one’s head as a sign of mourning (together with wearing sackcloth). Interestingly enough, as the ashes are applied to the forehead, the priest says, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

This phrase gives a significant indicator of meaning that moves beyond an overly introspective obsession with self-abasement and self-hatred stylized as repentance. To say that one is dust often is interpreted as an expression both diminutive and derogatory. It conjures up popular notions of “the depravity of man” [sic] which cooperates effortlessly with the self-deprecation that has gradually become the automatic path of movement for our hearts the way an unremitting drip of water would eventually form a channel in soil. Returning to the Lord with all of the heart is undeniably central to Ash Wednesday and Lent, but there is more to this phrase that can and must inform our repentance.

The invocation of dust language harkens back to the creation and Garden of Eden narratives at the beginning of Genesis. The text tells us that “the Lord God formed the human person of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” (Gen. 2:7). The first thing this tells us is that as humans, we are fundamentally people of the earth. We were formed from the dust, showing that our material composition is elemental to who we are as people. It is not a “lesser” component of our being, it is who we are. This is further illustrated by the fact that the word for human (adam), in this passage and the rest of the Old Testament, is etymologically related to the word “ground” (adamah). We are quite literally earth-lings. It also shows us that, as the formation of dust was given life by the breath of God, we constantly live only in dependance upon the gracious gift of God.

Walter Brueggeman develops this idea by saying, “Thus human persons are dependent, vulnerable, and precarious, relying each moment on the gracious gift of breath which makes human life possible. Moreover, this precarious condition is definitional for human existence, marking the human person from the very first moment of existence. That is, human vulnerability is not late, not chosen, not punishment, not an aberration, not related to sin. It belongs to the healthy, original characterization of human personhood in relation to God.”1

Thus the call to “remember that we are dust” is not simply an appeal to repentance. It is an invitation to recall one’s own creaturehood and again become comfortable with one’s own vulnerability. The dominant values of our culture reward efficiency, execution, perfection and predictability. Over the past hundred years, in nearly every sector of society we have repeatedly chosen machines to replace humans and continually place ourselves in a losing battle to compete with them. Thus humanity has become increasingly like machines in a delusional attempt to transcend our frail creaturehood by imitating them. The delusional nature of this cultural neurosis could be explicated at length but is epitomized in the belief and practice that transcendence lies in machination. Like Adam and Eve we desire to reach beyond the limits of human being, to transcend the God-given limits of fragile vulnerability. Like Adam and Eve we must be told that such a pursuit is exceedingly futile. We place unspeakable demands upon ourselves imagining that we have greater power and ability than we ultimately in fact possess. For Adam and Eve, the cure was magical fruit, but remarkably, we imagine our escape will come through modeling our lives after machines. Thus Christian holiness becomes transmogrified into an irrational perfectionism, that through unyielding rigidity aspires to an inaccessible divinity.

We receive ashes on our foreheads and experience the tender yet confrontational beckoning to “remember that we are dust.” We must remember that as humans we are ever and always creatures, earth-lings, ground-lings. If it takes receiving ashes to begin grasping this, so be it. If it takes lying on the ground in the dust, so be it. We must recover this foundational truth. The Lenten recollection then no longer comes to us in collusion with the self-hatred of failure to attain an unreachable, yea, idolatrous goal. Rather, it comes to us in its truly biblical form, as an express not of God’s derision, but of his tender compassion. When God remembers our origin, it does not lead him to despise us. Instead, God’s knowledge of our beginnings in the dust is indeed the source of the heart-rending pity of a Father for his suffering children:

As a father has compassion for his children,
so the LORD has compassion for those who fear him.
For he knows how we were made;
he remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14

——————-
1 Walter Brueggeman, “Remember, You are Dust,” Journal for Preachers 14 no. 2 1991, 4.

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